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loveindefinitely · 5 months

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02 — 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, angst, graphic violence, slight power imbalance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, betrayal

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

"You assaulted two Special Forces Operators, kid," Price says, a barely veiled grimace contorting his features. "That's not a good look."

You tug against where your hands are cuffed to the metal bars, your brows furrowing. "Kidnapping the girl -- whose dad you killed after taking her virginity -- isn't a good look either."

...Alright.

So, if you could go back in time, and never eavesdrop on the four men who have completely ruined your life, you would take up the offer in a heartbeat.

Between landing your fist to Gaz's jaw, and where you are now, your life has become a total shit show.

Like, complete, this might just be a fever dream level of crazy.

It started from the moment you saw blood trickling from your now late father's forehead, and in the glint of the moonlight, seeing Ghost holding the gun.

Then, you'd turned, without another thought, and landed a punch right to Gaz's jaw. The man who had taken your first kiss no more than two hours ago.

You can relive the moment even now, under the harsh neon lights of an interrogation room, as if you're experiencing everything for the first time once more.

༊*·˚

Gaz hisses, wincing as he brings a hand up to the aching pain radiating from the bone that'd taken the brunt of your punch.

"You guys -- what the fuck --" You stammer out, eyes wide and borderline manic as you gape at the man before you. "You guys just killed my dad!"

"Yeah, but," Gaz starts, before backtracking. You figure he has enough braincells to realise that 'rationality and reason' isn't going to work with you, not in this state, and especially not after you just witnessed the murder of your only living family member. "Ah. Well. He wasn't a good guy."

You really, truly, cannot believe the audacity of this man.

Your mouth opens.

Gaz grimaces.

Your mouth closes.

He takes a step closer, hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Take another step near me and I'll punch you again!" You threaten, with an aggressive point of your finger.

You're extremely aware that your punch had done next to nothing, and Gaz's reaction to it was more one of sympathy, but the threat lands nonetheless.

"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt you," he raises his hands further, eyes bouncing between your own. You're not sure what he sees -- maybe resentment, or horror, or fear.

Whatever it is, it makes his frown deepen.

He goes to say something else, when your bedroom door opens with a soft click. "Finishin' up, ya read--"

Soap pauses his whisper, ice-blue eyes meeting yours. His grimace isn't unlike the one Gaz is sporting, and it only worsens your mood. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the grass beside --

Oh god. Your dead dad.

"Steamin' Jesus," Soap mutters under his breath, looking up to the roof in some semblance of a last minute prayer.

There's a moment, then, for a decision to be made. It's as if your brain can only come up with two options, and one of them will lead to your untimely death.

So, really, it's not entirely your fault when you pick up the salt lamp sitting on your bedside table and throw it right into the arrogant Scot's face.

"Holy shit," Gaz's eyes are comically wide as Soap cries out, the heavy pink rock slamming into his nose. He stumbles back, and the sound of your lamp hitting cartilage even has you wincing, panicked state or not. "How the fuck have you survived this long with those kinda reflexes, Soap?"

Soap drops into a squat, cradling his nose in his hand as he tilts his head back, squeezing the ridge between two calloused fingers. His voice comes out nasally as he mumbles, "Mighta' broke 'gain."

Your entire body is trembling, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you creep to the window with soft, quiet steps.

Maybe, you think, in the back of your mind, I can make the jump into the garden.

It's not to be, however.

"You're smarter than that," Gaz directs an unamused glare your way, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards your door.

Digging your heels into the carpet, you attempt to wrestle out of his grip -- but a trained military expert and you are no match, not even with the energy overtaking your body.

"Let go of me!" You grit out, tugging and displaying your weight in the opposite way to his goal. He doesn't even turn around as he drags you out of your room, slamming your door shut behind you.

"What the fuck is goin' on," Ghost's growl comes from the stairs, heavy bootfalls following until he's standing, gaze drifting from you, to Gaz, to Soap, back to you again.

"Fuck, man," Soap whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted back, blood running down his lips and chin. You somehow find it in yourself to feel slightly bad. Not enough to apologise, and certainly not enough to stop fighting back.

They were going to kill you. Probably. Or, like, what's the skin trade like in your area? Oh god. Fuck. Shit.

"She saw," Gaz mutters to Ghost, and his eyes narrow, black face paint crinkling where it's been put on the upper half of his face, skin not covered by the balaclava.

There aren't any lights on, and it's the lights on downstairs that cast shadows and highlights over the men's' faces.

"Fuckin' christ," Ghost groans, before turning and walking back downstairs without another word.

You continue to struggle against Gaz's hold, but both of your wrists have been collected in his hand, and he's pulled you so your back is to his chest. If it were any other circumstance, you'd be blushing, most likely turned on from such an embrace.

Right now, however, you're questioning every possible decision you've ever made.

"Ye Dad treated ya like shit 'nyways," Soap says, too loud to be under his breath, but too quiet for it to be conversational. "Dinnae why yer freakin''."

"You're murderers!" You hiss back, lips pulled back into a snarl. Your muscles ache from the punch, the hefty throw, and now from struggling against Gaz. "And I don't exactly have any other family, do I?!"

Gaz makes a sound of agreement, before shaking his head and countering. "We're not murderers, not really."

You choke a laugh, but it's entirely too wet and sad for it to be threatening or cruel. "So you guys didn't just shoot my father?"

"Si pulled th' trigger," Soap pouts, almost like a child would over a lack of candy.

"Soap," Gaz exasperates, and although you can't see his face, you're sure it's dismayed and annoyed. "Seriously?"

"What?!" Soap counters, and when it comes out high-pitched, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his nose tighter. "Jus' tha truth, dinnae why yer so shitty. Yer not tha one bleedin'."

Speechless.

You are fully, unbelievably, speechless.

What the actual fuck was wrong with these... men? And what was wrong with you for being more than ready to spread your legs for them not too long ago?

You needed therapy. And coffee.

And a time machine, preferably. If one was made available at this given moment.

"Get down here," the final man of the hour shouts up the stairs, and your blood runs cold. There's something about him that's not quite as threatening as Ghost, but somehow makes you even more fearful.

Gaz, with surprisingly careful and gentle movements, guides you down the stairs. The parallel of how Ghost's hand had been at your lower back as he invited you to the lounge room, mere hours ago, isn't lost on you.

His hand doesn't move from the tense grip it has on your wrists. You can't help but feel like it's a completely unnecessary gesture, considering the fact that any of them could take you down within seconds if they really needed to. Hell, they all had actual, military-grade weapons.

"Seriously, Gaz?" Price huffs, looking entirely like a disappointed dad in this moment as he stands, leaning against your kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, ankles crossed over. "One job, mate."

"You lot weren't exactly quiet," he retorts, but he slowly releases your wrists.

At this point, you know it's a lost cause to try and escape this situation, so you just ball your hands into wrists at your sides. You can't imagine it's an overly threatening position, considering how your entire frame trembles, and your lips wobble.

Your father was dead.

And the men that had made you feel so comfortable, so cared for, are the culprits.

Stupid, stupid girl.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

"Peas," Soap's voice is practically a beg as he stumbles into the kitchen, opening the freezer door with no preamble as he scours it for... peas.

They're in the far right of the bottom shelf.

You don't tell him that.

"Have some water," Price encourages, holding out a glass cup full of chilled water.

Your eyes narrow, standing your ground. "Not accepting drinks from murderers. Dad taught me that, y'know?"

Gaz chokes a laugh, before covering it up with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. It fools no one, and you allow yourself the tiny bit of pride that fills your chest at the reaction to your taunt.

"Ghost," Price mutters, resigned and almost frustrated as he looks at you.

You understand why, as soon as the feeling of a needle imbedding into your neck has you flinching, pain prickling at the intrusion in your muscle.

"What --" you begin, before your legs fall out beneath you, your eyes falling to half mast as Price hefts you up, beefy arms holding you beneath your armpits as your body becomes dead weight.

"Sorry, kid," are the last words you hear, before black overrides all of your senses as drugged sleep takes you.

༊*·˚

Sometime between then, and now, you've found yourself in a white-walled room, blinding lights turning the throbbing in your head from a low pound to an echoing boom of a drum.

"We didn't plan for... any of it to happen the way it did. This was our only choice." Price shakes his head, hands resting at the top of his vest as he studies you.

Right. The virginity, kidnapping and assault thing.

...Great.

"I must've forgot the part where I resisted arrest," you retort, forcing your eyes to remain open, despite the heaviness to them. It's as if a weight has been hung from your eyelids, and every blink drags them down more and more each time.

"Jesus -- you're not under arrest," Price rubs at his eyes, head dipped down as if he's recollecting his thoughts. You're not sure if he's had any sleep, although your sense of time has been completely thrown out of the window.

"Then release me," you say, voice softer than you'd intended, more pleading -- a truer reflection of your current state of mind.

The air is crisp, cool, like that of a hospital. Chemicals and bleach are a potent undertone to the clean scent, and it makes you question what could've previously been done in this room to warrant them.

Your heart pounds almost weakly, and you know if there's any more heartbreaks to come, it might just give out.

How you've resisted a complete mental breakdown is beyond you, and frankly, you'd give yourself a pat on the back if you could. Although, that act might in itself be a sign of insanity.

"Not until we can be assured you're safe," Price insists. "And not until we can clear your name from the books. We have enemies, sweetheart, and those enemies were also your father's. They are not above punishing you for your father's sins."

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to just burst into tears and pray. Pray that this is all some sick joke, some terrifying nightmare that you haven't woken from yet.

But you know it's a baseless hope. You know that this is real.

You're in a military base, somewhere, surrounded by the country's most dangerous men. The most dangerous men on their side, at least.

"So I'm not getting charged for assault?" Your voice is entirely too small for the situation, not for someone who's still cuffed to a bed, going through grief in the most ruthless type of way.

The worst part is that you don't entirely miss your father. You miss the comfort of having a family member, that's true, but he wasn't a good parental figure, and his treatment of you could be classed as abuse to most people.

And from what these four are saying, he wasn't a good man either.

People didn't often talk about how separate the two things were. It was possible to be a great man, but the worst of fathers, and the opposite could be true, too.

Fate had dealt you a bad hand, in giving you one who was terrible on both sides of the coin.

"Technically," Price leans back into his chair, his voice littered with exhaustion, "We... should report it."

Your stomach drops.

Price's eyes meet yours, and somehow, he must see the turmoil battling inside of your head, because he lets out a deep breath, deflating just a bit.

"No. You're not getting charged for assault, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," you reply, too quick for your brain to catch up. The endearment is entirely too wrong, smarting on a chafing wound, a reminder of the mistakes you'd made, and the deception these men had pulled on you. "...Please."

You refuse to meet his eyes as he nods, slowly, as if in understanding.

"What did he do?" You don't mean to utter those words, to ask that question, but after you do, you can't find it in yourself to regret it. "What made him worthy of death?"

Price rubs a hand over his face, and for the first time, you register the lines of his face. Lines of a story having been told, proof of a life lived. It makes you want to learn, to find the origins of the small scars you can see, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"He broke many promises. Betrayed his team," Price states, and you can tell the millions of words he leaves out, the context better off left unsaid. "He did terrible things. Killed people who had made no faults."

Oh.

For some reason, it hadn't truly hit you, not before now, the truth behind his death. What hadn't you been told?

How hadn't you been made aware that he was -- he was part of the special forces. He was a dangerous man -- he was one of the men he'd warned you about. How blind had you been? For so long? Those business trips, when he'd come with bruises, brushing them off whenever you gained the courage to make attempts of caring, of forming a relationship with the man who raised you.

They weren't business trips. They were missions -- ones with impossibly high death rates.

And he just.

Hadn't said a word. Just continued to treat you like you were worthless, a nuisance, a pain in his ass. Something worth protecting, if only so your weight in gold wasn't minimised.

What were you to do, if he just. Didn't come home after a mission gone awry? If he died on the field. If you woke up one day without a single living family member left.

You only realise that tears have fallen down your cheeks when Price's thumb brushes them away, your nose scrunching with a sniffle.

Jerking back, as if electrocuted, it takes everything in you to glare at the man whose gentle hands had led you to this position in the first place. "Don't touch me."

He backs away. Doesn't argue.

It hurts your heart in a way you don't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Not right now. Not ever, maybe. Preferably.

You let out a deep, stabilising exhale, before weakly meeting Price's gaze. "Can I sleep? Feeling kinda shit after the drugs," you mumble.

Price's lips twist into a grim line, but he nods curtly. "'Course, kid. Call out if you need 'nything."

You just lay back, turning on your side, facing the white wall as the lights turn off, leaving pitch black in its wake. Your wrist smarts where the handcuff has left a red mark, your free hand rubbing at the small patch of visible skin.

If you were more aware, more... ready for the conversations you needed to have, you would've demanded all four of them speak to you right this moment.

But your head is heavy, and thoughts are few and far between.

Grief and confusion cement in your brain like a thick fog, your emotions like cars without lights in the thick mist.

No directions, no ability to brake before crashing into one another.

You're an absolute mess, and you have no one to blame but you and your sick curiosity, your reckless decision making.

But, you realise, this was a long time coming.

Because there's one thing Price -- nor the other three men -- don't know.

Your father wasn't the only one who held secrets.

And it was you who held the key to this force's undoing.

a/n. lol so like. who's ready for some enemies to lovers? sorry to everyone who wanted immediate hurt/comfort!! for some reason plot lines and depth hit me and i was like. i need to do it justice. so here we are!!!

thank you all SOSOSO much for the reception of the first part. it genuinely means a lot to have people excited about my stories??? like omg youre all SO kind. comments and reblogs make my absolute week!! mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. @captainjamster @alfa-jor @simp4miguell @yaboibauldano @dreamaboutpinkk @guyser @lovewithasideoflust @redz0mbie @ghost-is-my-bbg @astro-ghoul99 @the-faceless-bride @casterousaudrey @cutiecusp @kit-williams @lilpothoscuttings @florabelll

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writingmeraki · 1 year

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min ho as your bf hcs !

genre : fluff ! romance !

pairing : min ho x gn!reader, strangers to friends to oblivious idiots to lovers :)

warnings : insecurity and jealousy ( not anything too alarming ), attempt at comedy, kissing, not proofread ! ( lmk if i missed anything ! ) also self indulgent at times 😔

author's note : dawg it's 5:30 am pulled this out of the two last living braincells of my brains to dip my toes into this xo kitty craze i am having, especially for min ho but anyways! idk if i like this, ( it's normal I'm so sorry I'm never sure if i like what i write at times because i end up writing at the ass crack of dawn and that too unhinged 😔) i kinda find it longer than i intended it to be but hope you like it <3 I'll be writing more if I get feedback and expect something else soon :)

word count : 3.4k (💀)

how you met !

- You'd both met when it was your first day at KISS.

- Well since it's Min ho, i feel like it would take a lot for someone to put an impression on him to make him remember them.

- At the welcome party, he was pretty bored, already used to these types of parties when you'd walk in, clueless looking like a deer in headlights, in your pretty little outfit.

- It definitely made him curious nonetheless, even though you seemed lost, you still had a smile, maintaining a confident aura.

- You'd probably be nervous on the inside though, but lucky for you, someone like you, that was Kitty, happened to also seem lost.

- You both connected immediately, her being new to Korea wanting to get to know her own roots and ofc her boyfriend more while you were there because you'd been wanting a change from your life back home and what better city than Seoul !

- Well okay, you didn't really pick it, it was more so of you just throwing a dart at the map back in your room to choose where you wanted to go as a fresh start and it landed on Seoul. You'd call it fate.

- Now back to the party, as you chattered with Kitty, you walked into someone and you felt your breath hitch, upon seeing him.

- It did feel like those cliche weird movie moments, when you think that this is probably it.

- As he was obviously annoyed at Kitty, he turned to the person beside her and his eyes widened.

- It was you. The one that caught his eye right at the beginning.

- Before anything, you flashed your soft smile at him, an apologetic look in your eyes, apologizing for bumping into him, on behalf of Kitty

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to bump into you, I can get you some paper towels?" You said gently and Min ho definitely wanted to continue hearing you, already really loving the way you sounded.

Q would definitely be shocked though, seeing him look flustered, and staring at you, blinking twice. He never thought he'd ever see his best friend being so…speechless.

He literally had to bump his shoulder to snap him out of daze which seemed to have worked, for the most part.

- You all introduced yourselves, finding out they'd been Dae, Kitty's boyfriend's best friends, and with the way she seemed a bit taken aback by the way she looked at Min ho made you feel like you'd definitely didn't know something.

- And unknowingly both Q and Kitty did notice, sharing a puzzled look, at Min ho's state. They'd met a while ago but clearly there was already something there. A new thing, blooming slowly.

how you got together !

- And fast forward a bit, Kitty who was true to her matchmaking skills, knew you both liked each other.

- You'd both hang out often over the few weeks, connecting more and despite her own love life being confused, she was determined to make you both realize you were oblivious idiots who liked each other, idiots nonetheless.

- He'd upgraded to talking freely around you more, but you found out he wasn't the shy person you thought he was the first time you met him, the very next day, when he began to compliment himself and flash his annoyingly handsome smirk at you.

- But despite his cockiness, you knew he cared about those he loved. Small gestures and actions are proof enough. He was someone who cared without showing it much, giving gifts was his love language and that only made you more convinced you'd definitely gained feelings for him.

- And alas, you came to her, spilling out your feelings, how you had already found him attractive since the first time you saw him, at first you genuinely thought he'd be a jerk, knowing better than to think a handsome face had a good personality.

- And as much as you were terrifyingly nervous of having such a revelation regarding a boy you'd met only a few months ago now, you don't think you'd ever regret liking someone like Min ho.

-Now it was up to the matchmaker to make you both realize you were meant to be.

-The perfect match, in her words and Min ho definitely scoffed at her words when she confronted him about his own feelings, definitely not because you had said to never ever mention anything about how you felt to him, she just wanted to make sure, and as always her gut was right.

- As much as he scoffed at her words recalling his own family, he couldn't stop his own heart from fluttering as he thought of being together with you, and even to him, this revelation made him a bit taken aback but he was sure, he was sure about how he felt about you.

- They all planned to get you to confess during the camping trip, unsurprisingly all of your mutual friends knowing you had both liked each other and agreed, getting tired of seeing you pining for each other in secret, as cute as it was.

-Kitty would tell you to dress up nicely, saying she had planned a dinner, making up excuses about how there was this spot, perfect for chilling, you did find her behavior a bit odd, but with her persuasive nature, you agreed.

- She made you wear this one outfit, it was one you'd bought and adored a lot, you didn't even know you had packed it, but it made you look amazing and was made for you, in Kitty's words.

- Then she did your hair and applied light make up, your suspicions being even more, asking her a million questions about whether all this was really necessary if it's going to be just us chilling, her just dismissing your questions.

- Min ho wasn't too different on the other end, but Q knew him. Min ho was one who dressed to impress, more of himself nonetheless, he knew he wouldn't hold back on his style.

- And he was right because when he just told Min ho to dress his best tonight and Min ho being Min ho dressed in a fucking suit. Yeah he was not one to mess around his fashion game.

- Q made up a similar reason, something about a dinner at this cool spot. And Min ho didn't really question much, going along.

- When you were almost near the place, Kitty suddenly placed her hands on your eyes from behind you, making you chuckle nervously, asking her if she'd suddenly had a grudge and had really just brought you out to kill you.

- Kitty rolled her eyes, you not seeing her of course, having your vision being engulfed in a sudden darkness.

Whispering softly into your ears, she told you

"Just trust me on this one and you should thank me later."

- On the other side, Min ho almost screamed when he felt his eyes being covered in a sudden darkness by a blind fold, Q choosing a blind fold knowing if he kept his hands, Min ho would go on a long rant about how to not touch his face, and would probably snap back saying how he said that but he allowed you to touch his face to poke his cheeks.

"Q, bro, as much as I love you, I am not into thi-"

"Shut up."

He led Min ho, now only a feet away from the spot,

"And thank me later genius, preferably with your fancy water, it tastes amazing."

- Kitty and Q looked at each other making sure, you both were facing each other.

- Knowing you both were probably going to say something, they both just smiled at each other and let your eyes become uncovered.

- As you adjusted your eyesight to your surroundings, you'd both spotted each other, surprised was probably what you felt.

- Yet upon seeing the way your hair was done, the way your makeup only enhances your features, your gentle eyes sparkling under the soft moonlight, your outfit only adding to your beauty, Min ho just wanted to treasure you forever if he could as his heart picked up in pace, more enchanted by your mere presence.

- You were no different, a reminder that he was definitely sculpted by Aphrodite herself as the moonlight fell upon his face, his suit only making you more trapped, fitting him perfectly, his hair styled to perfection, some strands escaping and gently resting on his forehead.

"Well! Now that you're both here, enjoy! And oh, don't mess this up, please for the sake of all of us fed up with you oblivious idiots!"

Kitty said suddenly making you look at her, furrowing your eyebrows at her words and upon hearing Q's agreement Min ho narrowed his eyes at being called an idiot and before the both of you could say another word they turned around and left.

- You took in the surroundings, now noticing the glittering fairylights and the table set up in front of you, a rose bouquet placed in the middle, filled with specifically red roses and some candles.

"Looks like they set us up."

Min ho said, already catching onto what this was all about, and it made him just a tad bit nervous

"Oh and uh if you feel uncomfortable, we can go back-"

Giggling at the way he seemed sheepish and nervous at the same time, you shake your head,

"Not at all, we can't let their efforts go to waste now can we? After all, we shouldn't mess this up."

You air quoted the final words, moving forward to take a seat.

Min ho had a small smile on his face as he heard you giggle, nodding along

"Yeah you're right. Covey will probably throw me off this cliff."

You chuckled as you both sat down

"Don't worry, I'll jump after you to save you. Can't let my date be murdered by my best friend."

His eyes widened a bit at your words, you paused a bit wondering if you spoke too much maybe, but all your doubts dissolved when he replied

"What no! You can't hurt yourself because of me!"

- You were sure your cheeks would have hurt from the amount of laughing and giggles you'd share with Min ho that night, convinced you'd never laugh this much in one night your entire life.

- And as the night came to an end, you both sat on the cliff, looking at the stars, sharing sneaky glances and adorable grins. You knew it was the right moment to just let it all out

"Min ho."

Humming at you, he looked at you from his previous stargazing, sitting beside him with his jacket over your shoulders to top off the clicheness, looking just unreal and you had done nothing but call him yet he loves it a lot more than he'd admit.

"I think I'm in love with you."

You said it, there. Out in the open. Out of the temporary home the words had found on the tip of your tongue and you braced yourself for the worst of the worst.

You looked away, gulping back up at the stars.

"Come on now, you can't just look away after that."

Min ho gently cupped your face, to make you look at him, his cooler fingers a contrast to your warm cheeks.

He smirked at you, leaning closer,

"I know you do."

Frowning a bit at his answer, you narrowed your eyes at him, but he had more to say

"But, I don't think I am in love with you though, I know I am definitely in love with you."

You gaped at his words, staring into his sincere eyes, moving yourself closer as he leaned in more and more.

"Can I ?"

He asked softly, foreheads touching each other, your breathing in sync.

"Please."

- It was slow and gentle, something unknown to the both of you, letting your feelings be conveyed through the touch of your lips. You had placed your hands around his neck pulling him closer as his own hands moved to your waist.

You pulled away shortly, needing to breathe, foreheads still touching each other.

"So does this mean we're official ?" You timidly asked and he responded,

"We'll take it however you want it to be but I won't lie, I would love to be your boyfriend."

He finished with a cheeky grin and you giggled

"Okay then, boyfriend."

Pecking him one more time as his grin grew wider, you knew this was probably your biggest happiness till date.

how being in a relationship with him is !

- It was no joke when he said giving gifts was his own love language.

- He spoiled you to the brim, despite your protests. You didn't mind them of course. It's just throughout your life you'd only get such special gifts on big occasions but he got them for you on random Tuesdays and you felt like you were getting more than you deserve.

"Baby, you know how much I love you, this is my own way of showing it." He'd pouted it to you when you had protested once and you being the best partner you tried to be, just accepted them and of course treasured them safely in your room.

- As much as Min ho didn't mind showing affection to you in public because for one he didn't really care about what others thought of his actions,it was his life, he'd been living it how he wanted and wouldn't let anyone change that.

- But he was protective of you in public, holding your hand, though you didn't mind that at all when his larger hands seemed to perfectly wrap around yours as you pulled him closer to you.

- He'd probably let you and only you use his skincare routine products, in fact going in the extra mile and teaching you how to use them and what to use them for, applying them for you, a little like your very own spa treatment, and you giggled sometimes seeing him focused and serious when talking about how you didn't really need them since you were already perfect.

"You're already beautiful though." He told you as he applied a moisturizer on your face that for the love of all good things, you didn't know the name of. "This will just keep your skin looking healthy but if you don't want to use it, we can stop of course."

"It's okay. It feels nice." You hummed as he trailed his fingers gently on your face, massaging it, and he smiled at your content look. He knew you were a little stressed due to some tests hence why he insisted you take a break with him at the moment.

"I'm glad then."

- He knew you loved his cooking, even before you got together, he'd always been making food for you when you would be at his dorm. He already knew your favorite dishes so when you felt down, he'd be ready with your comfort food.

- He loved to hear your little reviews about his cooking, you always had something to say about any dish he made, whether it was just the right amount of spice or how the tofu made the dish even more delicious, he listened to your suggestions and would use that to improve his skills.

- He'd teach you how to cook as well, starting with smaller and less complicated dishes,feeling his heart swell with happiness when you were successful at one and even if you failed, he'd reassure you that it's alright and we can try it again or another dish.

- Kisses were often shared anywhere and anytime even if your friends would complain about it, calling you gross and lovesick fools, you didn't care about what they said when you felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach as your lips touched his.

- You made him a very long playlist consisting of all and every song that reminded you of him, reminded you of moments with him, reminded you of how he made your heart flutter.

- He'd listen to it, telling you what parts he loved and he too had a similar playlist, it was probably the cheesiest thing to do, as Kitty said but then again you felt all kinds of so called cheesy emotions whenever you were with him.

- He would introduce you to his mother, and that too very proudly. You were nervous but he reassured you about how his mom would probably love you and she did, a sigh of relief coming from you when Min ho told you that.

- Your parents, on the other hand, were definitely charmed by him. He knew his way with words and what to say and nonetheless they loved him!

- Study dates in the libraries tended to end up with you giggling at his ridiculous jokes and him teasing you about how you were so cute, making you slap his arm lightly as you would feel your cheeks warm up.

- Playing footsies was always convenient when you were not paying attention to him, too focused on your novel and you just shook your head on the way and stifled your laughter at his pout.

- He was not a jealous person, not at least after you became his. Before sure, he'd glare at those who tried to ask you out, being happy when you turned them down.

- Q reminding him you weren't dating him for him to get jealous but now that you were, he didn't feel the need to get jealous.

- If he felt like someone was looking at you in that way, he'd either wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you cheek, smiling with a certain glint to the other and they got the message alright. Nothing serious but sometimes he can be jealous.

- You, though, you weren't jealous but maybe you tended to get insecure at times. Thinking Min ho could have whoever he wanted yet he chose you as you would find a pretty girl leaning onto him.

But the scoff of disgust as he leaned away, and said something to her which would make her turn around in shame and walk away with her head down, made you look at him, him coming towards your way, smiling as he finally spotted you.

"Hi baby! I was just looking for you." He grinned widely as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, his eyes shining brightly as he looked down at you, in those moments you knew, even if he wanted whoever he wanted, you had him and he had you.

- He's talkative, talking about anything and everything under the sun and moon, you'd give your attention those times, nods of confirmation to questions and gasps of shock when he said something particularly astounding.

- He was grateful to have someone who'd listen to him talk, as simple as that gesture is, he's grateful for that someone to have been you.

- He loves it when you play with his hair as he lays his head on your lap, brushing through his soft locks, easing his worries.

- You love to just cuddle with him when you can, him just holding you when you need it or pulling you onto him from your previous position of sitting beside him on the couch.

- Expect all kinds of date ideas to be pulled off, sometimes by you or by him or even by your friends. Movies, adventure parks, haunted houses, you name it but you think that no matter what, even if you could stare at paint dry on a wall, as long as you have Min ho with you, you couldn't ask for more.

- Despite his cocky moments at times, you sometimes would roll your eyes at him and just sigh softly, or better yet, you love to see his flustered expression whenever you agree on his self praises.

"We all know that my existence is probably the highlight of your day, guys, just admit it." He would say with a smug grin, Q already rolling his eyes and Kitty just scoffing and you replied

"Of course baby, you're the highlight of my life!" You grinned widely at him, chuckling when his ears got a little red and he just nodded "Y-yeah see!"

"I'll be b-back!" You laughed at him,

"Oh he's so whipped for you." Kitty said which only made you laugh more loudly.

- In the end, Min ho was convinced that even if he didn't believe in star crossed lovers, he'd definitely have to thank fate to make someone like you become his.

- And oh Kitty of course.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi !

#xo kitty #xo kitty min ho #min ho x reader #to all the boys trilogy #netflix #netlix x reader #to all the boys ive loved before #x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #headcanons #min ho headcanons #min ho fluff #sang heon lee #lee sang heon #he's so bbg 😔#[ pri works ]

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dearly-somber · 7 months

Text

Yours | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!Jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. pining, fluff, unrequited love, f2l (friends-to-lovers)

-> w/c. 1867

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. This couple 💔💔

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Wed., Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:19

-> fin. Tues., Jul. 27th, 2022 @ 21:37

-> edited. Tues., Jan. 7th, 2023 @ 12:45

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

You watch in awe as Jungkook and his pack interact with one another in their wolf forms, itching to take pictures, but knowing they wouldn’t appreciate it.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Jungkook’s wolf, and you find yourself rather intimidated. He’s twice the size you’d expect him to be, and although he acts like an oversized puppy, his sharp teeth and large paws remind you of god true nature.

Jungkook whines and nips at his hyungs while the girls lounge off to the side, watching you take everything in with curious eyes. The youngest of the shifters gives who you think is Hoseok one last nibble to his ear before excitedly padding in your direction, tail wagging behind him.

Your heartbeat races as he stalks towards you, your mind emptying itself of all coherent thought. You open your mouth to ask something, but get interrupted by a wet, gross wolf-tongue being thrust down your throat.

It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook is in fact licking the inside of your mouth, and the moment you have the braincells to do something about it you yell in protest, roughly pushing him away by his chest. He takes a second to react to your pushing and jumps away the second he realizes he’s doing something wrong, a high-pitched whine leaving his throat. You wipe your mouth with your sleeve with a horrified frown, resisting the urge to gag. Jungkook whines loudly at your side, tail hovering between his legs as the other shifters look curiously in your direction, wondering what all the commotion is about.

Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your the crook of your elbow and then just below your rib cage, stepping onto your thigh in his attempt to get closer to your face so he can apologetically nuzzle your jaw. You push his face away in a panic, mortified that his tongue was in your mouth.

Jungkook whines louder, his ears pinned to the back of his head. You try not to scrape your tongue off with your nails, looking at Jungkook pace up and down with his worried eyes trained on you. You feel kind of bad, despite feeling like the victim in this situation, so you muster a small, slightly panicked smile. “Sorry, Kookie, it’s just that” —you exhale shakily— “you can’t just lick into my mouth, Koo. That’s just…”

He bows his head shamefully, his tail wrapping around his paws. You want to scream at him for looking so fucking sad, your stupid human brain only seeing an overgrown but cute dog who looks way too depressed for your heart to handle.

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again, okay?” You pat his head and twirl a finger around his soft ear, smiling when the end of his tail starts twitching. Jungkook barks happily at your forgiveness and stumbles to his feet so he can rest his head on your thigh, tail smacking your leg as it wags.

Your hands are on him immediately, petting him all over and carding through his fur. Jungkook can’t help but vibrate with pleasure, trying very hard to get it across to his wolf that crushing you under his weight is going to get the complete opposite reaction he wants. Your gentle touches knock the breath out of him. Make him submissive and pliant—some might even say pathetic.

He cringes at a memory from two weeks ago.

You were lying next to him, reading a book while he boredly played games on his phone. Turning to you, he positioned his head in your lap.

“I’m bored.”

“And I’m reading.”

He scoffed, pinching your leg. You yelped in surprise and Jungkook smirked smugly.

You resisted smacking him with the book. “Go to bed.”

“But it’s almost dinner,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes, muttering something that sounded oddly like ‘dumb puppy’.

“I’ll wake you when it’s ready. Sleep.”

Jungkook grumbled something under his breath but nevertheless turned onto his stomach, getting comfortable with his head in your lap, pouting. How could you—

His eyes widened a fragment as his entire body relaxed the moment your fingers started gently carding through his hair. He felt his wolf slowly coming to the forefront of his mind, practically purring with contentment as he nuzzled into your thigh, huffing out a wolfish breath.

You massaged his scalp and he let out a quiet moan of appreciation, pressing his face into your thigh to hide his heating cheeks. You laughed, your heart thundering against your rib cage. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and pressed his nose into your hipbone while holding himself to you possessively, little noises of pleasure falling from his lips while you played with his hair.

Jungkook shudders internally at the embarrassing recollection, his nose pressed into your hipbone like it was back then. That memory—though cringe-worthy—is a fond one.

He whines appreciatively when you scratch behind his ears, pressing his nose further into your hip. You chuckle lowly in response, your mouth moving with no sound coming out.

You’re in awe at just how thick his fur is. You could ball up a fistful of hair and still find more fur to grasp on to. You suppose it’s necessary to survive the winters, even though they probably spend most of their time indoors anyway… “You’re so cute!” you squeal softly, cupping Jungkook’s face and bringing your face close to his so you can stare into those large, expressive eyes of his.

He looks surprised at the sudden proximity but doesn’t try to pull away even after he goes cross eyed, his tail wagging excitedly behind him. You half forget that this is in fact your best friend, seeing him as just any other dog.

A very large, very intimidating dog.

“You’re just an overgrown puppy who enjoys some good ol’ pets, aren’t you? Just a big baby boy?” You giggle when he whines and aggressively stomped his feet, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you. Your thumbs trace over his eyes affectionately, smiling brightly at his obvious excitement.

You continue cooing at him unintelligibly, his inner pup yowling and whimpering desperately at the note of affection in your voice.

“Someone’s whipped,” Jimin snorts through their mind link, shaking his head.

“I’m not whipped—“ Jungkook tries to defend himself, though his aggressively wagging tail and barely contained whimpers give him away immediately.

“You’re acting like an overgrown puppy,” Rosé deadpans, her head raised so Lisa can groom the underside of her neck.

“No, I’m not,” he tries to defend himself, doing his best not to show his growing annoyance at his pack’s testing while you’re so close to his face, fighting with his wolf to not lick your face, no matter how much they both want to.

Taehyung snorts from where he’s laying half on top of Jimin, the two looking pleased that they’re getting a rise out of him. “Coochie coochie coo! Come here, Jungoo-baby, let your hyungs groom your fur!”

“Stop,” Jungkook warns them, trying to focus on your bright smile.

“Koo’s about to roll over and beg her to—“

You squeal in surprise and fright when Jungkook turns his head to the side to snarl at his pack-mates, your heart picking up speed and eyes widening. Your fight or flight kicks in, but Jungkook is laying half on top of you, and you’re afraid that if you move more he’ll get snappy.

Jungkook turns back to you with a small huff, licking your hand as an apology for scaring you, before ducking his head to nudge your pelvis insistently. You hesitantly pet him again, wary of another outburst. Jungkook huffs angrily, pinning his ears against his head. You don’t hold his face again, much to his chagrin.

This wouldn’t have happened if his idiot hyungs kept their mouths shut. He, albeit dejectedly, settles for nuzzling his nose into your stomach.

He’ll get face pets from you another time.

As the sun sets, Jungkook’s pack-mates head inside one by one, shifting where you can’t see. Jungkook’s tail lays lethargic and limp by his side, your long, rhythmic strokes over his head and down his spine making him drowsy.

“Y/N! Jungkook! Come inside! It’s getting late and we wanna order food,” Namjoon calls from the behind sliding door that leads to the patio.

“Coming!” you call back, gently shoving Jungkook off you despite his protests. You picture him whining that, “he doesn’t wanna go inside” and to, “keep petting him” in that annoyingly adorable aegyo voice he uses sometimes, but you manage to push the thought away and stand, stretching your legs.

“Let’s get some food, hm?” You roll your finger around his ear as he follows you on your heel, huffing and puffing annoyedly. It feels a bit like having those guard dogs you’ve seen on TV.

Jungkook shifts back in the comfort of his bedroom, running downstairs to join you in the living room where everyone’s busy watching a crime documentary and eating pizza. Strangely enough, you’re no where to be seen, the single seater that might as well have your name on it left unoccupied. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the kitchen grabbing something to drink,” Jennie supplies distractedly, stuffing her face with a large cheese pizza. Jungkook nods, stepping over everyone sitting on the floor to make himself comfortable in your chair.

When you come back, you see your spot has been taken and slump your shoulders. He grins at you cheekily, and you roll your eyes. You make a move to pass him so you can sit next to Lisa, but Jungkook intervenes quickly by shooting his legs out, causing you to screen to a halt to stop you from tripping over his stupidly long legs.

You glare at him pointedly, aggressively smacking his upper leg to get him to drop it to the floor. He pouts and makes grabby hands at you to come and sit with him in the single chair instead of with his pack mates, tilting his head cutely.

You sigh and shake your head, leaning over the coffee table to grab a slice of pepperoni pizza before turning to one very delighted Jeon Jungkook. He giggles softly as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap, his legs spread so that your ass is cushioned in his thighs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and holds you close, watching the TV with rapt attention. You smile at the doe-eyed look of concentration he has, chewing on the bite you just took while holding the slice over your shoulder for him to take.

He hums appreciatively when he digs his teeth into it, thanking you through a mouthful of pizza. “Don’t speak to me with your mouth full,” you scold with a playful flick to his cheek, shaking your head when he grins stupidly at you in response.

Jungkook trains his eyes on the side of your face as you lean into him, your eyes twinkling with pictures from the screen.

He has only one thought as he tightens his grip around your waist:

Though you might not be his just yet…

…he’s most definitely yours.

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chokepoet · 8 months

Text

Cruelty & Empathy 18+

gif by @romulussy

Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.

Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting

Word Count | 8.5k

A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao

Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm

He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.

My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.

In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.

I loved him madly.

I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.

Siena, Italy | 4:21 am

He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.

“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.

“Because I work for your sorry ass?”

He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.

“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.

“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?

Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.

A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.

“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.

“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”

He did.

Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm

“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.

“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.

“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.

“Yes?”

“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”

“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.

“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”

“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.

“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.

“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”

The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.

“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.

“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.

“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.

“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.

“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.

“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.

“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”

“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”

“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”

I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.

“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.

The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.

“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.

No.

My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.

“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?

He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.

“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.

His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.

“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”

“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.

“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.

“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.

“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.

Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.

His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.

He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.

Slap.

My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.

I was still scared of harming him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”

Crack.

I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.

“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.

I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.

“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.

“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.

“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.

“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.

He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.

“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.

Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.

Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.

My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.

“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.

“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.

“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”

“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.

“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.

“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.

“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”

“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.

“Do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.

Roman didn’t want my empathy.

Roman wanted my cruelty.

“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.

Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.

“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.

“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”

“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.

“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.

My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.

“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.

The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.

“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.

It was all too much.

A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.

The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.

I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.

“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.

“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.

“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.

“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.

A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”

He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”

His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.

I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.

“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.

My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.

The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.

“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.

“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.

My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.

“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.

Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.

“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.

His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.

After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.

“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.

“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.

“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.

“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”

“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“

“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.

“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.

“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”

My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.

“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.

“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.

“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.

“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.

“How did I look at you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.

“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.

I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.

“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.

“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.

“Fuck you! I’m complex.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”

“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.

#this used to be 10k words lol #I’ve rewritten it soooo many times #Roman Roy #Succession #Succession HBO #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy one shot #roman roy fanfic #roman roy imagine #succession smut #succession fanfic #succession imagine #succession one shot #mine #can’t believe I’m following up kittens & perverts w/ this filth lmao #it still doesn’t feel perfect but she’s about to confiscate the phone from me if I keep rewriting this lol #cruelty & empathy

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lenoraah · 8 months

Text

𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦

pairing - ollie bearman x fashion student!reader

summary - reader and ollie basically hate each other. but when their best friends start dating and they have to third and fourth wheel, their friends will do absolutely everything for them to admit their feelings for each other

a/n - this came out the last living brain cell in my head, reader’s nickname is lemon for the title reason. y’know olives and lemons. also the best friends are made up and have names. like I said this is coming out of my last braincell

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“How much more worse could this possibly be?”

“Uh, if they start making out.”

At the sound of Ollie and Y/n’s question and assumption, the happy couple grabs each other’s faces in their hands and starts to smile, obnoxiously pretend to make out.

“Oh Lord no! Please! For God’s sake, stop.”

“There are children here like us!”

“Let it go Ollie, the two of you are eighteen.” Phoebe teases as Jackson places a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Y/n and Ollie share a disgusted yet longing look. Of course neither of them realize and their best friends also share a look, a disappointed one.

Ollie and Y/n both sit there bored and entertaining themselves with their glasses of untouched wine.

While the brunette curly haired Brit came straight from practice and is wearing a jeans and a, what Y/n argues is a sweater, jumper. The y/h/c girl also came from her designer job at the plaza, wearing her work uniform which consists of a long jean skirt, white long shirt with bell sleeves and a tight olive green vest.

The two of them mop around and occasionally make faces at Phoebe and Jackson.

“Can the two of you please stop it?” Y/n tosses her dinner napkin at the two and Ollie does the same.

The blonde boy and the red headed girl on the opposite side of Ollie and Y/n both sheepishly smile before returning to their kiss.

“Disgusting,” The y/h/c girl sighs and downs the rest of her glass before setting it on the table and getting up.

“Where are you going?” Phoebe asks, pulling away from the kiss making Jackson pout.

“Leaving the two of you alone to your dinner date and make-out session.” Y/n holds out her hand to Ollie. “You coming Bearman?”

Jackson and Phoebe share a look and then both then both glance at the Ollie and Y/n.

Phoebe wiggles her eyebrows at the girl and Y/n rolls her eyes in response.

Jackson’s eyes widen at the boy across from high and Ollie shrugs and gives him a, ‘I don’t know’, look.

Either way, Ollie take Y/no’s hand follows her out of their booth.

“We are going to leave now. Uh, don’t get back to the apartment too late. It going to sound like a burglar got into our place, so, yeah.” Phoebe and Jackson wave off Y/n’s concerns and urges them leave.

“Got it, yep. Stop worrying about us. Just go and have fun.”

“Yeah, we’re leaving.”

Ollie and Y/n wave the to one more time before leaving the restaurant as fast as they can, trying to escape Phoebe and Jackson’s lovey dovey-ness.

————————————————————————

“Two lemonades please,”

“One with olives. And spiked,”

The bartender, Lilly, raises her eyebrow and looks between the two.

“For me, not him.” Y/n punches Ollie in the arm. “He’s a lightweight,”

Ollie scowls and shakes his head. Lilly snort laughs and rips their orders from the notepad.

“Cute couple, you too.” She says before she leaves.

“Oh no-“

“We’re not-“

“Um hm,” Lilly nods before raising and eyebrow and leaving.

Ollie and Y/n are then left alone, sitting at the bar while everyone else was in the pub was dancing.

Y/n nervously taps her keys and keychain against the table while Ollie looks around, drops of sweats dripping down his forehead.

His eyes wander until he notices the keychain that Y/n has holding her keys.

“You still have that?” Ollie motions the tiny stuffed bear that is swinging against Y/n’s apartment keys.

“Of course I do,” She smiles as she looks at the keychain and then Ollie. “You don’t just just throw away something that you’ve been keeping since you were thirteen.”

Ollie hums and nods. He still remembers when he gave her the little gift.

It was Y/n thirteen’s birthday and Ollie had to rush to get her a gift from after his race. He had past this small store and his eyes had immediately fallen on the adorable keychain and thought about Y/n.

He could remember the expression on her face when she opened the box. The smile on her face was showing everything she was feeling and he could just tell how happy she was.

And then that was the last happy moment the Y/n and Ollie shared before he went back to racing and she left for design school.

After that it was just competition after competition between two until Jackson and Phoebe just couldn’t handle it and started getting the group back together.

“Hey Lemons. Why do we hate each other?”

“What? We don’t hate each other, bear-boy.” Y/n makes a face and gently caressing the tiny face of the bear keychain.

“Sure doesn’t seem like you love each other either.” Lilly raises an eyebrow as she sets the two drinks on the table.

“I- what- we do not-,” Y/n shakes her head rapidly and Ollie helps her out by asking Lilly a question.

“Hey Lilly? What are all these etchings?” Ollie runs his fingers over the carved-in markings on the table and

Lilly glances over the table and lets out a laugh. Her eyes don’t leave one of them the markings.

L.A + A.M

“It’s just all of the people that fell in love here. They engrave their names here and, well, the rest is history.”

“Whose is this?” Y/n asks before taking a sip of her lemonade. She points to the engraving that Lilly has been staring at and then looks at the bartender.

“Oh, that’s just me and my husband.” The two notice the ring hanging around Lilly’s neck. “Lilian Andrews and Alex McCulway.”

“It this where you first met?” Ollie looks around the bar and then back at Lilly.

“Yes it is, and we use to come here every anniversary under he past away.” Lilly smiles fondly as she wipes the other side of the table.

“Oh,” Ollie and Y/n share a look before looking back at Lilly.

“I’m sorry,” The two both say at the same time.

“It happened a long time ago, don’t says sorry. It wasn’t your fault,”

Ollie and Y/n both hum and nod along before awkwardly sipping their drinks.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.”

Ollie and Y/n nod and smile. They leave it like that for moment. The two of them losing themselves in each other’s eyes. They sneak one more glance before pulling away and blushing, hard.

“Also, you’re one weird girl.” Lilly motions toward Y/n’s drink. She snort laughs and Ollie smiles too, his cheeks brighting by the moment again, knowing who was the person that created that drink with her, him.

————————————————————————

“Honey! Shut up!”

“Baby I know, sorry.” Jackson winces as Phoebe steps on his foot.

The two had finally got home from dinner and Phoebe had a gut feeling that Ollie and Y/n had already got back to the apartment. That and the fact that their shoes were already there when the got home.

“Where are they?” Phoebe looks around the house as Jackson follows her around like a scared toddler.

Just as Jackson is about to open his mouth that he sees Ollie and Y/n on the balcony, Phoebe pulls him by the neck behind the large plant where they can listen without being seen.

Ollie and Y/n stand outside, the two in their pajamas, nervously staring at the stars.

“Do you hate me or-“

“I think I’m in love with you and-“

“Wait what?”

“Ollie you’re what?”

“You don’t hate me?”

“Why- what?- why would I?” Y/n stutters over her words and uses her hands in exasperation.

“I don’t know it’s just that we’re always competing and I’m so confused because we went from barely seeing each other to living together and now some a night at some bar fixed us? And I know it’s really late for this now but I’ve had a crush on you since we were thirteen and I don’t know if you do, and you probably don’t, but-“

Y/n cuts him off by grabbing his right cheek and pulls him in for a kiss. His cheeks flush a bright color and he looks like he’s in a trance when they pull away.

“Are you okay?”

“What- what was that for?” Ollie stumbles over his words and Y/n can’t help but laugh.

“You weren’t going to shut up and I needed to tell you something, so.”

“What is it?”

“I like you too, stop worrying.” Y/n smiles shyly and Ollie’s face relaxes and he half grins.

“That’s really, really great.” Ollie smiles pulls her in for another kiss.

The two stare into each others eyes again before smiling holding each other in their arms. Ollie’s hands wrapped around her waist and her arms around his upper body.

They’re both smiling like idiots as they hold each other. A thousand thoughts running through their minds at once. Happy and nervousness. One thing they were sure of was that matter how chaotic their schedules were, they were going to make this work.

And you know what?

A couple years later, the two walked through the doors of the very same bar and they both grinned as they carved their initials into the table, their wedding rings shimmering under the bar lighting.

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman fluff #f2 #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #original writing #original post

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sanjoongie · 4 months

Text

Sports Fan

✯Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f) ✯Au: sports Fan au, arena worker au ✯Trope: s2l ✯Rating: 18+, MDNI, SMUT ✯Word Count: 795 ✯Warnings: deep throating, smudged makeup fetish, oral (m), fingering (f), masturbating(f), kinda free use ✯Dedication: @smallfrye when your braincell decides to write seonghwa smut and infects you to do the same unknowingly. Hate Love you. thanks to @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland my wonderful talented loving beta team ✯Summary: you've been put in charge to give four idols a tour of their favorite teams arena but instead decide to deep throat one of them for funsies ✯A/N: inspired by this

You hate sports fans. They obsess over the stats of their favorite team. The many jerseys bought with their favorite players' last name. The fanatic screams with the wins and the losses. You couldn't stand them. And yet here you were, guiding four men for a private tour of the arena you worked at. Yes, the irony wasn't lost on you that you worked at a soccer stadium, but you had bills to pay and a friend who got you a job.

What wasn't a part of your job was taking one of their dicks in your mouth but it was starting to feel like a perk.

Seonghwa was enjoying his personal tour of the arena, the fresh jersey on his back being pressed against the wood of a locker. Your mascara streaked down your cheeks, lipstick smeared across your face, and yet you never tapped out. Seonghwa thumbed your cheekbone, thinking you looked so fucking disgraceful and beautiful, just for him.

He took a moment to obscenely poke your cheek with the head of his cock, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feel of the soft flesh against his most sensitive area. He cursed under his breath as you let him do whatever he wanted, your eyes watery because of withheld air.

Seonghwa had pushed his sunglasses over his beanie a long time ago in order to get a better view down your deepcut shirt. His bronze skin gleamed with sweat dripping down his face and neck. His tongue licked his bottom lip, flashing teeth before he let go of the plumb flesh.

"Ready?" He spoke roughly, voice low.

You nodded quickly, even though your thighs were hurting from balancing on the balls of your feet, and your throat felt scratchy. Seonghwa crudely pushed the head of his cock against your lips. You spit on his cock and made even more of a mess of the situation.

"You're such a fucking slut," Seonghwa breathed out, in awe of what you're willing to do with an attractive stranger.

His cock pressed your tongue down as it traveled to its destination: your throat. The only way Seonghwa can get his entire cock inside of your mouth is by fucking your throat. You don't even get to moan or whimper at your oral fixation, because all you can manage is to keep your gag reflex under wraps. The wet, choking noise is all that Seonghwa needed, however.

"Let's see you spread those pretty pussy lips for me, huh?" Seonghwa suggested, the words sounding so debauched but elegant at the same time.

You flipped up your skirt over your thighs and used two fingers to spread your pussy lips for Seonghwa. He smirked and laughed and then purred a command. "Fuck yourself full of your fingers. I want you completely stuffed."

You don't break eye contact as you rub two of your fingers against your sopping entrance and then push them in. Seonghwa’s eyes rolled into the back of his head again, the wet noise of your throat being fucked raw and the squishing of your fingers into your cunt being utterly everything for him.

"You're my new favorite thing," Seonghwa whispered before he holds you down on his cock and released down your throat.

His noise scrunched as he panted and resisted slowly fucking your throat through his climax. "Don't-- gasp-- you-- pant-- DARE--ugh--stop!"

Seonghwa pulled out enough that he wasn't choking you anymore but remained in your mouth as his cum spurted weakly from his slit. You let it pool on your tongue and make desperate, hungry noises.

Seonghwa’s head bangs as he tipped it back, exhausted but satisfied. "Wanna hear you…cum," He panted.

You roughly pinch your clit as you add a third finger, searching for a high that's just within your reach. It didn't come until Seonghwa opened his eyes back open, however, half lidded, and licked his lips. That tongue is fucking long and narrow and you're starting to regret not insisting on sitting on that beautiful face first. Regardless, Seonghwa pulled out of your mouth just in time for your climax to surge through your nerves. You let out a long, drawn out moan and stick your tongue out, the combination of saliva and cum dripping perversely down between your legs.

"Seonghwa, how long does it take to find your phone? Come -" Yeosang burst into the locker room and halted mid step, eyes growing wide at the scene he just caught you and Seonghwa in. "Should I come back? I'll come back," Yeosang giggled nervously, turning on his heel immediately.

"No, Yeosang," Seonghwa croaked and then cleared his voice of his lethargic state. "Come use my favorite new thing. Her throat is fucking to die for."

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #atz smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader #topaz's work #ღatz #✯drabbles

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sgiandubh · 2 months

Text

Sketch for a possible aftermath

Did you ever ask yourselves how would that almost fabled Day After look, as in the day after a Reveal?

Yesterday should be a good indication.

Prudent celebration, but clear celebration here. And across the street, a stunned, heavy silence. It's only fair: shite has been eaten in colossal amounts, in Mordor, on a daily basis. S has been particularly maimed, in the process, the daily divertimento of women sniper commandos, their own sexual fantasy poorly disguised as snarl.

Two of the three sopranos remain silent and the Ur Troll still has to distance herself from the last Harlequin fanfic, featuring something that never was, on a distant shore she has no idea about. The one who immediately spoke, paid perfunctory tribute to her favorite, C, and that's about it. The other, speaking only today, answers Anons about Xena's teeth, Xena's filtered Instagram and Xena's bra: where is her vulgar courage, now? Oooh. Right. Lame, as usual and I have to say I am surprised. And their Investigator in Chief remains silent as we speak: her inflated ego blew a fuse, in the process and anger is always a lonesome territory.

The Spanish Evil Twin does not count. Her attempts at irony are tinged with her proverbial stupidity and, perhaps for the first time, with clear and present panic: she sounds drunk, just like my Anon. She is laughable.

So long for Reason. So long for Braincells. So long for all those painstaking, intricate webs of lies. Something snapped, in the Narrative and you all know it. And it happened not because all those bitter honchos at *** had a sudden Damascus like revelation, but because their complete lack of professional ethics, shamelessly lying to an entire fandom, backfired in the most horrible way they could have ever imagined.

Yesterday was a wonderful day.

Credits given to @themusicsweetly, for this wonderful gif that clearly shows just how much these two people hate each other.

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hollandorks · 8 months

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter four

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: had today off work so I wrote two chapters while watching the film for the *checks notes* millionth time. Anyways, in this chapter we get to see why the reader hasn't figured out Batman's identity...and it's because she as one (1) braincell to her name.

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“No,” he said. He went to walk away, the lines of his body rigid, but paused. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said over his shoulder.

She wondered if it was true.

The next morning, y/n woke up to good news in the form of an email from her editor granting her a leave of absence and temporary assignment at the Gotham Tribune. The editor there had been cc’d and asked her to call at her earliest convenience.

Then she saw the small package on her nightstand, delivered by Alfred sometime while she’d slept. Her phone had been returned and his short note told her to check to make sure everything was in order.

She immediately called the editor of the Gotham Tribune.

“Jansen,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Hi, this is y/n, we emailed about my temporary assignment?” She absently spread the articles about Batman across her bed. One of them was a huge picture of some sort of…light signal against the night sky. Her brain turned that picture over while she spoke. It looked like a bat. She almost laughed. Subtle.

“Oh, right!” She could practically hear the editor, Jansen, sitting up eagerly. “We heard about your attack, but your identity is being protected by Gotham police. What are you proposing? A tell-all?”

“Well, I’m glad they’re tight-lipped. You heard one of them got away?” A noise of assent. “And a tell-all is only part of it. Part tell-all, part investigative report, part vigilante op-ed. I want to investigate who was murdered and why. I have a hunch that this was…not your run of the mill hit. There were four of them, two victims bound and gagged. And then this bat guy–I assume you know plenty about him–he steps in and tells me to run.”

Jansen paused for so long she was afraid he would tell her no and hang up. “That’s a lot of work,” he finally said. “But if you do it right…hell of a piece. Front page, at least.”

“You’re not going to tell me my hunch is made up? Or tell me not to go after the Batman?” She raised her eyebrows. Part of being an investigative journalist was getting the boss to believe in it enough to pursue the story–and part was pursuing it even after being told no.

Jansen scoffed and said, “Fuck no. My source at GCPD is thinking the same thing about the murders. One suspect may have ties to the Gallo family in New York. All three who were caught lawyered up real quick without a word. And the Batman? Three years this guy has been around, even made national news last year, and you know what I have on him? Squat.”

Y/n scrambled for a pen and flipped over the picture of the light signal to scribble notes. “Can you get me that source’s name?” She wrote out a note about the Gallo family and underlined it twice.

“Nope.” He popped his lips on the P. “But I heard that Gordon took a shine to you. Batman’s right hand man.”

She hummed and wrote another hasty note. “I preemptively asked for an interview but he told me to shove it.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Listen–can I work from home? Since the fourth suspect got away, I…don’t really want to be out and about in the city if I don’t have to be.” She would go into the Tribune offices if she had to, though, but working from home would also offer her a lot more freedom with the article. She was concerned about her safety, sure, but really she needed free reign to do what she wanted.

Jansen chuckled darkly. “I get it. Sure. Send me updates as you get them and weekly summaries of your work. If I come across any leads, I’ll send them your way. Are you in protective custody right now?”

She glanced around her room and thought about all of the security Wayne Tower offered. “Yes,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the police protecting her. It was the Wayne legacy.

“Well, be careful. If it is the Gallo family and they’re trying to set up here in Gotham….” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“I will be. I have a lot to research right now anyways. And thanks–this helps me out a lot.”

Jansen outright laughed this time. “Listen, kid, if you turn out right about any of this–or even manage to get more information about our friendly neighborhood vigilante–it helps me out a lot. I’m not being altruistic here.”

“Thanks anyway,” she said with her own laugh. She had known as much when he had agreed to the assignment. It was a big thing, and she was willing to tackle it. She knew how the business worked. She could make the paper and its editor look really good if it worked out. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I’d tell you to be safe, but we both know you investigative types aren’t like that. So I’ll just say this: don’t die before you get me a story.”

They hung up.

Y/n immediately opened her laptop and typed up everything she’d learned from the phone call. Then she made a list of research topics: the Gallo family and their potential ties to Gotham, how to get the GCPD to feed her information, the Batman, and a whole lot of other things that may or may not be connected.

Her eyes fell again on the picture of the light signal–to the bat in its center.

She chewed her bottom lip as she stared at her phone on the bed. Gordon wouldn’t give her an interview, at least not yet.

The idea was a flash of lightning.

Officer Martinez, with his mustache and wide eyed wonder at the home of Bruce Wayne.

She did a quick internet search but couldn’t find any contact information for him specifically. There was, however, a general call number for the GCPD station he worked at.

“Hi, I, um, had you guys come out for a robbery not too long ago and this really cute–” She gave a fake giggle, “–officer came to take my report…I’d like to send him an e-giftcard, you know, to say thank you? So if you have an email or something I could use…I promise it isn’t a scam. This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry–”

The woman on the other end of the call sounded like she mostly just wanted y/n to hurry and hang up. “What’s the name?” she interrupted.

“Officer Martinez. Cute mustache and–”

“I know the one. Hang on.” The sound of a keyboard clicking filtered through the call. “Here’s his official work email. So no funny business, alright? Or we’ll trace it back to you.”

Y/n typed the email address in as the woman gave it to her. “Oh thank you so much!”

Before she even finished hanging up she was writing the email.

Officer Martinez–

You came to Wayne Tower after I witnessed a murder, and I was just reaching out because you seem trustworthy. I know that one suspect got away and, honestly, I’m afraid. If you have any information you can give me it might help with my peace of mind. Another truth? Lieutenant Gordon intimidates me, so I definitely can’t ask him.

Anything you can give me would really help.

Feel free to email me–I know giving out any more personal information would be unprofessional and I really respect what you do. I don’t want to get you in any trouble.

Sincerely,

Y/n

She read through it and wondered if she was laying it on too thick. But she knew, the same way she knew this case was big, that Officer Martinez would be a willing source. Even if he didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

–

Y/n spent the rest of the day in a deep research hole, her eyes aching by the time the sun set. She hadn’t seen Bruce or Alfred either time she’d left in search of food or caffeine.

She was in the study again, feet bare against the chilly hardwood floors, staring at a spot that looked like faded…white paint? She frowned as she ate her sandwich one-handed. Since when had someone painted on the floors? She tried to make out what it said, but almost all of it was scrubbed away. Maybe it was leftover from the bombing investigation. There was a section of flooring and a window that were much newer than everything else.

It was late again, nearly one in the morning. Time always passed quickly when she was deep into a story. Her back and eyes hurt, her wrists cramped, and her brain was mush. But she hadn’t thought about her grandmother all day, and the ache in her chest was a little better than it had been the day before.

She leaned against the nearest window. She wanted to go out, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t still scared.

She rested her forehead against the window as she finished the last bite of her late dinner. Something bright caught her eye.

The light signal. The one with the giant bat.

She straightened. What had that article said? A way for the city to call the vigilante when in need?

She stared at the light. It was cloudy, which made it almost easy to trace the path of the light down, down, down…

She could see the half-built tower in the distance. Wayne Tower had a perfect view of it, in fact.

A thrill ran through her blood.

Forget staying in–she needed to get to that light before it was turned off.

She ran down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps reminding her of a million games of tag, half of which had ended with a sleepy Alfred scolding them for waking him. She slowed her steps automatically. She didn’t want to be caught now, either.

She grabbed her shoes, jacket, phone, and pepper spray then ran back out again.

The elevator ride felt like it would never end. She was afraid that she would step outside and the light would be gone.

But no–when she stepped out to the chagrin of the security, whom she had to remind weren’t there to keep her prisoner–the light was still bright in the sky.

She held a hand out for a taxi. Thankfully one was passing by.

Maybe her luck was turning, she thought as she got in. Things had to go right after going wrong so often, right? Especially lately. That was one thing she believed in her life–things would always revert to the mean. A lot of bad meant a lot of good would come to even out the scales. Bruce had broken her heart…then she’d accepted an offer for her dream job in Bludhaven.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked as he scrolled Instagram with one hand.

“Um,” she said, smushing her face against the window and trying to estimate the distance. “Can you just take me like ten blocks straight that way?” She pointed.

The cabbie set his phone down and looked at her skeptically. “Whatever you say, lady.”

The ride was quick, made quicker still by the lack of traffic. She paid and got out, eyes on the sky. The cabbie muttered about crazy rich people as the door shut.

It was harder now that she was closer, but there was an entire city block nearby that seemed to be under construction. And there were two really tall buildings there, each still only half-finished.

She jogged down the sidewalk. One hand clenched the pepper spray while the other held her keys between the fingers. It wouldn’t be enough if a murderer wanted to shoot her in the head, but it was all she had. Maybe it was stupid, coming out so late when she was probably the target of a mob hitman. But she couldn’t let it go.

The block under construction was surrounded by a huge fence topped in barbed wire. The only way in, as far as she could see, was a gate that required a code for entry. She cursed under her breath, the words fogging in the chilly air.

There was a roar from behind her.

She whirled and ducked behind a trashcan in the same breath. Her heart stopped as the noise came again.

Headlights pierced the air and a car sped straight up to the gate.

Calling it a car was like calling a dinosaur a lizard. It had armor or something on it and an honest to god rocket on the back. It was less of a car and more of a tank. She could see the bones of it underneath, some type of semi-familiar sports car. Bruce would love a car like that, she thought. He loved adding ridiculous modifications to cars.

She shoved away the thoughts of Bruce and quickly took out her phone to take a couple of pictures, just in case. She’d left her actual camera in her room and silently cursed herself for it.

The gate slid open and the car sped through. The gates started to slide closed almost immediately.

This was her chance. The signal light was still on for the moment and she doubted many other cars would drive into a construction zone at nearly two in the morning.

She ran through the closing gates.

They clanged shut behind her a second later.

Okay, now what? she wondered, glancing around. One of the tallest towers was to the left, another one to the right. Now that she was almost directly below them, it was nearly impossible to tell where the light was coming from without circling the whole block. It looked like it was coming directly from the spot where she stood, but she knew it was only because it was coming from somewhere close.

She chewed her lip and glanced around more carefully. And–there. That weird tank of a car was parked beneath the tower to the right. She heard soft clanking and then a caged elevator started to lift on the outside of the building.

Bingo.

She ran over, wishing she had more skills suited for being a secret agent. Her footsteps were anything but silent and her breath gasped through her teeth as she ran. She kept to the shadows as best she could, which was made easier by the lack of lights on the whole site. But if there was anyone else around, she wasn’t being that stealthy.

She looked up.

The light switched off right as the noises of the elevator faded.

Double bingo.

The elevator was descending, empty now.

There was another car, too, half-hidden.

An unmarked police car.

She took a picture of that for good measure. She knew for sure now that she was on the right track.

That fire was back within her. She was so close to finding out if her hunch had been correct. She was close to…well, something. She knew it.

She went to the elevator and stepped inside. One button, and she was headed to the top.

Her palms were sweating. The long ride up gave her time to think, which was bad. She had fucked up. She realized that now, but hitting the button to go back down did absolutely nothing. She really should have thought things through more.

She had no idea what–or who–was at the top of the building. She had no idea if the Batman was actually a nice guy or not. He could very well take one look at her and toss her off the edge. Her mind spun with possibilities, including her death being ruled suicide, the trauma of the deaths of her family too much.

Or what if the murderer who’d gotten away had lured Batman up there? Or what if they were in cahoots? What if that editor, Jansen, was in on it too?

She really, really should have thought this through a bit more.

The doors opened with a noise so loud she winced.

When she looked up, she was face to face with a gun.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @slovakshadow @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa

#bruce wayne x reader #the batman x reader #battinson x reader #batman x reader #the batman #the batman 2022 #battinson #bruce wayne #haven #haven fic

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hearts4youz · 8 months

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"The Captains Daughter" Chapter Two

comment if u want to be added to my tag list <3 @abbiesxox A/N: Thank you all sooooo much for reading chapter one, it means a lot!! Heres chapter two. From here on out you can expect like 1-2 chapters of this to come out per week!! i'm so excited to share the rest of this story that has been marinating in my braincells for so long lmao.

Word count: 1.5k

Reader pov: You marched into the training facilities for your first session with the masked Lieutenant. You donned a hoodie and leggings, the training rooms were chilly. You walked into the changing rooms to lock up your bag, although it was highly unlikely someone would steal it, this was a military base after all. Fastening the lock around the small cubby, you took off your hoodie and threw it inside as well. Leaving you in a thin cropped t-shirt. You left the locker room and took in the smell of the training area, it was the size of a warehouse and smelled like your high school gymnasium. There were multiple different areas of the facility. A gym, featuring endless sets of weights, squat racks, benches, etc. There was an enclosed area for weapons practice, boasting many different kinds of guns, knives, and any other device used for bodily harm. The base also boasts, an impressive, multi story agility course with different obstacles at each level. Last but not least, there is a recovery room, mostly used for warmups and cooldowns.

After you took it all in, you spotted Ghost doing squats with a great deal of weight on the bar. He sported a skull print balaclava instead of the mask he wore at yesterday's meeting. He also had on tapered black sweatpants, a fitted t-shirt which hugged his muscles in a very flattering way, and tennis shoes. You walked toward him, stopping short and standing by the weight rack so you didn't interrupt his workout.

You watched as he did rep after rep of squats, face contorting more with each one, you could see his face more now with the absence of eye black he wore yesterday. Sweat dripped off his brow, his eyes squeezed shut as he finished the last rep, the bar made a clattering sound as he rested it back on the hooks of the rack. Wiping his face with his sleeve he turned to you.

"Do you sleep with your eyes open," he says abruptly.

"What?"

"Your eyes, are they always like that or am I just that impressive," he says smugly

"No- I," You start.

"Save it, lets get started."

He starts walking at a fast pace to another area of the gym, you jog to catch up. Ghost leads you to three boxing style rings.

"lets start with a spar, consider this a pre-test, I wanna see what you are capable of," Ghost gets straight to business.

You gulped, you're not a bad fighter, but he has an unfair advantage. He's at least 6'2, not to mention you just watched him casually squat 600+ pounds for reps. The two of you stepped into the ring, you tried to not let your nervousness show on your face. You weren't going to be able to overpower him, you were going to have to outsmart him, or be faster than him. Lucky for you, you used to be a competitive runner in high school, placing well in state championships for Cross Country and Track yearly. You also practiced Yoga, agility will be your friend in this matchup.

"Ready?" Ghost said.

"Yes, Simon," you taunted.

hopefully your mention of his name caught him off guard, you ran at him, faking a punch and slipping between his legs, popping up behind him. Your surprise worked, his delayed reaction gave you enough time for you to kick the sensitive area behind his kneecaps. Ghost stumbled forward but caught himself, turning to face you. He threw a punch, you tried to deflect it but he was too strong. Quickly recovering you ran at him again, trying to juke him out by performing another fake move. He must have picked up on your style quick because he stuck his leg out to trip you before you could jet by him. Realizing you lost the upper hand, you tried to stand up before he could pin you. Instead, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and hauled you up from the ground.

"Round two," he said gruffly

The second time around was worse than the first. You didn't have the element of surprise. He took you down within seconds

"I've seen enough," dissatisfaction present in his eyes.

"I know I did poorly, but to be fair," you tried to justify yourself.

"Do you think fights are fair?" He chastised.

"Let me tell you that none of the men you face in the field will be as gentle as I. Your little trick? Do you think an enemy soldier would even give you time to talk?" He continued, voice becoming more of a yell.

"How did you even get here?" He questioned.

"I'm not a bad shot, for what I lack in strength I make up for in speed and agility too."

Ghost raised a brow

"You've got a lot to work on in terms of hand to hand combat, but lets test your aim," He said.

Feeling more confident for this next test, you followed him over to the shooting range. The two of you entered the room, paper targets on one end, soldiers practicing their aim on another. Ghost picks out a variety of firearms. He hands you a Pistol first.

"Go ahead," he gestures to the targets.

You nodded, drawing a deep breath in and exhaling as you lined yourself up with the target 50 yards away. Inhaling again and holding it this time, you brought the gun up in front of your face, extending your arms and firing 3 shots rapidly. Two hit the center circle, one skimmed the edge between the center and the ring next to it.

You turned back to face Ghost, he only handed you the second weapon, a rifle. You repeated the same process before, this time letting the gun rest in the crook of your neck and holding it against your cheek as you fired three more shots in quick succession. All three hit the center this time.

Ghost handed you an SMG when you turned around. Holding the new gun in the same way as the rifle, one pull of the trigger fired multiple bullets, these were less accurate but still impressive. Clicking the safety on the gun, you handed it back to Ghost, he put away the weapons without a word.

"That's all for today, you are excused Sergeant," he says bluntly.

"Thank you for training me sir," You said, Mock politeness dripping from your tone.

"By the way, don't call me Simon. It's Ghost, or Lieutenant." Ghost grunted and turned to go, leaving you alone in the range. You stood for a moment, replaying the last 45 minutes in your mind. You had hoped to impress him with your marksman skills, but he seemed unimpressed. You needed to decompress, a run would relax you perhaps? You walked towards the locker rooms to change into warmer attire, the weather was cold in late November.

Ghost's pov:

The first day training the Sergeant, Y/N wasn't a total bust. I recalled the events of our session as I changed. She was a decent rifle shot, a terrible fighter though. Her use of my name was alarming, a clever move though. Soap probably told her, they talked through the meeting yesterday. Can't blame em' though, Price sure does love the sound of his own voice.

As I was about to leave the changing rooms, I spotted Y/N leaving the building, it was awfully cold outside to be going out. She had earbuds in, so it wasn't hard to follow her out the door. She lingered in front of the door for a moment, I stayed inside the vestibule leading to the outdoors. She took a breath and started jogging, turning the corner and leaving my sight.

I didn't know she was a runner, she mentioned she was fast after our spar though. Training after hours is quite admirable actually. Maybe she won't be such a letdown for the team after all.

I shuddered at the thought, Remember what happened last time you overestimated a newbies skills. I told myself. I will never let that happen to someone under my command again. Wincing at the memory, I tried to push the thoughts aside, but it comes flooding back to me

"It wasn't your fault Simon," Price

"There was nothing we could do," A doctor

"I'm sorry," Another doctor

Two lives

Gone because I authorized them for the mission

I thought they were ready

I didn't train them hard enough

I treated the two of them as friends, as brothers. I grew attached too quickly. I wasn't as close with them as I am the rest of the squad, fuck I barely knew them.

One week

One week they were here, their first mission they were so giddy, so eager to prove themselves, two boys about to become men. I remember the feeling when I was in their position.

Next, they were gone.

Never again will I let that happen to someone.

Never will I let that happen to Y/N.

For now, I'll pretend I don't care.

She can hate me all she wants, she can think I don't give a shit about her. Better that than her trusting me and me letting her down. For now, I won't care about her. Until she can prove herself worthy, I won't treat her as a friend.

Because I don't want to see a friend come back in a body bag.

#captain price #cod 141 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #task force 141 #simon riley x reader

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tonkatsubowl · 8 months

Text

false love ii.

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl).read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until...

TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color ◖l/n: last name

♡ requested tags: @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @kimura-uzuri @ieathairs (hopefully i didn't forget anyone)

part one. / part three. / part four. / part five. / part six. / part seven.

"yanqing."

"yes, general."

it was just the two of them. the general and his admirable lieutenant, speaking privately to one another upon the balcony that revealed the splendid display of xianzhou luofu. you were asleep peacefully in the other room, but because of your fears of being...hurt in the middle of the night, you were more comfortable sleeping in a private room rather in same chambers as the general's.

"do you feel safer sleeping with me? or do you wish to be given your own room, y/n?"

"...m-my own room. preferably... if possible. thank you...f-for asking."

a question like that was brought to you because jing yuan was observant. extremely observant. your flinching, your shyness, your fears of being hurt...it was all too easy of a solution. normally, he wouldn't mind sharing the same bed as you, considering it was...well, a general tradition for a husband and wife to sleep on the same bed, no? but this was different. entirely so.

"have you look into the l/n family?" jing yuan had asked his lieutenant, his voice briefly interrupted by the sound of his own sipping. the same jasmine tea that he served you before.

"yes, sir. lady y/n is the eldest daughter in her family. her bloodline is known to have successful members of the military, but only for those who are...well..."

jing yuan looked over, his eyes casting towards his lieutenant.

"...male. successful members tend to be the eldest sons of her bloodline. y/n happened to be the first eldest daughter in her entire family. each eldest son was known to be successful. but there is no history in regards to her being, well...successful in any way. according my research, there is no history of her attending education services or anything the like. it is like she was hidden up until this very moment."

"i see." jing yuan fell silent. "i trust that you have seen it too. the obvious flinching. the shyness. the fearness of getting hurt. i would only presume her family is harsh on her due to the fact she is not a man."

yanqing pursed his lips, as though annoyed with the situation. "...yes, sir. domestic abuse. it is obvious so. the faint bruises on her arms⸻hidden by her sleeves⸻say it all. what do you suggest we do, general?"

jing yuan shook his head. "nothing. we are married now, and she is my wife. she is no longer in that situation, neither will i allow harm come towards her way. however, i will...command you to do this for me."

"...? yes, general?"

"at one point in our marriage," jing yuan looks to yanqing, who remained kneeled by his side, "we would have to oblige to her family visiting in the sanctum here due to in-law traditions. once that happens, do not let them near her. be by her side."

"...yes, sir."

your eyes flutter open to the soft light of the sun beaming through the curtains. for once, you woke up peacefully rather than the palm of your father who scolded you for oversleeping. for the first time, you felt well rested. you were greeted by the soft birds that sung you awake, and the light of the radiant sky.

you weren't sure how long you were asleep for, but you...were definitely peacefully asleep. you were unused to it, but your body felt the need to rush itself to get ready...and you did so.

anxiety filled you immediately⸻what if you had to be somewhere with your husband? will the general hit you? scold you for it?

you scramble up from your bed and hurried to get dressed. you put on your clothes, and ready your hair...but you weren't quite fast enough. the knock on your door caught you by surprise, your heart racing. your mind began to overthink, fearing itself that you would get in trouble for not getting ready soon enough.

"⸻lady y/n?"

you froze, hearing another woman's voice behind the door.

"are you awake? i believe i heard your footsteps and⸻"

entered the woman, who was adorned in a house-servant attire. you began to sweat, expecting this woman to scold you or something...but you were a mess. you were already getting ready, but your hair wasn't done. ah, gosh. what will you do now?

"i...i'm sorry. i'll get ready immediately. i'm so⸻"

"huh?" the woman tilted her head, looking at you puzzled. "ah, lady y/n. you didn't have to rush to get ready. i'm here to help you get ready for the day. general jing yuan has requested me to assist you this morning, but if you do not need my help..."

"...a-ah," your face turned red out of embarrassment. you weren't used to this. you had a house servant to help you now? the house servants you lived with didn't even care about you. they also, alongside with your biological family, saw you as a useless piece of...

"...n-no, it's... it's okay," you shook your head, the ornaments in your hair that you failed to put on began to fall a bit. "i-i can get ready myself."

the house servant blinked, before her expression softened.

right. the general had informed her about something...something about you. but you didn't know about it.

there was a soft smile on the servant's countenance as she stepped closer, causing you to flinch. but she was patient with you. she had to be...especially when she was assigned to be your assistant until her last breath, or your last breath.

"milady, allow me to help you, please." she whispered in a soothing tone. you open your eyes, your shoulders easing up from her voice...you felt okay, but you were still cautious.

nodding slowly, you sat down in front of your mirror, allowing the house servant to pamper you up. you flinched every time her hands went near your face, but slowly, you were getting used to it. all it took for you was...time.

you needed time to heal, and everyone who now entered your life would be patient with you. jing yuan, especially.

it didn't take long until you were properly dressed and looked less of a mess, thanks to your house servant. you looked at yourself in the mirror, and surely enough, you looked absolutely stunning. did you believe it? no. your self esteem was absolutely terrible, and you hated yourself. you hated everything about yourself.

"you look so⸻"

ugly.

"⸻beautiful, milady."

liar...liar.

you frowned, gazing upon yourself at the mirror. you didn't believe it. you grew up hearing insults about your appearance...that you weren't enough. that you could look like a rodent so easily. a measly little mongrel. so these compliments that you were hearing...you were not used to, and it would take an eternity for you to accept these compliments.

you said nothing, but looked down to avoid your own gaze. you can't stand seeing yourself in the mirror. you just refuse to see that ugliness before you.

your house servant had noticed your behavior, and decided to change the topic. putting away your other clothes and ornaments, she looked towards you, "ah, yes. your husband has invited you for breakfast this morning. you may attend if you'd like, milady."

you blink. breakfast...with jing yuan? ah, right. you are probably obligated to attend breakfast, lunch and dinner with him now. you were mainly used to eating by yourself, but... despite having the option of eating alone, you decided to go along with it.

you nodded slowly, rising up from your seat, unused to the fancy dress you were wearing. "...okay."

"good morning, y/n." jing yuan greeted you with a smile as he lifted his own cup of tea, the scent of jasmine and eucalyptus greeting your nostrils. yanqing was in the background performing a bow towards you, but he wasn't attending breakfast.

"good morning," you whispered softly, your tone audible enough for the two to hear. you looked around for a seat, realizing that your seat was across the general's. it seems that jing yuan was allowing you some space...? or was it because he didn't want to sit next to you? was it because you were filthy?

no, no. stop. just eat. stop thinking about the negative things and just eat.

you were quiet as you sat across from jing yuan, looking down at the table... it was filled with a bunch of different foods. something you've seen before with the luxury of your wealthy family, but you always ate this alone.

"how did you sleep last night?"

you slept well, but you weren't feeling hungry at all. you were so used to skipping breakfast and eating so little, you just...didn't want to eat. yanqing and jing yuan exchanged looks, but you answered a moment after.

"i slept well," you said truthfully, "the bed is nice. it's more quiet here."

"i'm glad!" jing yuan exclaimed, beaming brightly as he took a sip of tea, "i want to make it known to you that i want you to live comfortably here and freely. my home is now your home, y/n."

your gaze slowly rises up, looking to jing yuan. it...it was a scary thought. the fact you were going to live here for the rest of your life, living in fear of not knowing who this man is, who everyone is... you felt trapped. even at the comfort of his own words, you just...didn't believe it. you believed in too many false promises in the past, and this is just one of them, you thought.

"...i see."

you didn't even touch your food yet. you just weren't hungry. yanqing took note of that. jing yuan was very attentive⸻and he was reading every motion of your body, your expression...everything.

god. what happened? who did this to you? how did you become like this? you didn't deserve this.

jing yuan embraced the silent atmosphere for one moment before clearing his throat. "...a-ahem. well, y/n. i decided to take today off to show you around this area. have you been to aurum alley? i assume you haven't been around these parts since your family lives rather far, yes?"

you nodded. it was true. you weren't really from here. it didn't help that you were more of an indoor person, too.

"i haven't been to aurum alley, no." you say, shaking your head.

"i see. well, i'll be glad to take you there, if you wish."

....honestly, the thought of going to new places⸻as scary as it sounded for you⸻was a bit exciting. you were free, now. you could go wherever you want, right? well...maybe that's what jing yuan was promising, but he was giving you the opportunity to show you around. so, you'll take this chance to see the world.

you nodded. "...a-alright." you murmur, earning another smile from the general.

you still didn't touch your food, and it was getting cold. but that's alright. progress is progress⸻and wants you to feel comfortable more than anything.

aurum alley.

for the weekend, it was always so busy. everyone was on their off day, spending time with each other and their families, and also just getting drunk too with their friends. truth to be told, you heard about this area before, but because you were so sheltered and you remained inside, you haven't really been here before.

jing yuan was escorting you, and there were many people greeting the both of you. to your discomfort of this, you were hiding behind him, clutching onto his arm...which he didn't mind at all. he was happy that you at least felt safe enough hiding behind him. jing yuan was basically protecting you, preventing these random civilians from getting close to you. the drunkards too, even. you were already going through alot mentally, so the last thing you needed was a drunk man just talking to you randomly.

"i think you would enjoy the food here." jing yuan would say as he approached a stand which was selling pastries. he decided to pick one out randomly, purchasing it, and handing it to you. you looked towards the pastry that he held out for you before you took it, bringing it up to your nose. it smelled very sweet...mixed with some chocolate bits and vanilla. slowly, you opened your mouth, taking a very tiny bite out of the pastry before realizing that it was...delicious.

your eyes lid up, your cheeks brightening with a blossoming shade of rose as you took another bite. god, jing yuan admired this sight. seeing your eyes light up from the deliciousness of a pastry he bought for you, your smile... he was happy he took you out here.

that was when you began to feel more comfortable around jing yuan a bit. he took you to several stands, showing you all the minigames, all the rewards that he basically won bought for you, and all the different types of food that were being sold. it was obvious that you were enjoying this moment...enjoying this bit of freedom you were experiencing with him. for the first time, you felt so free and so happy. all of your worries were gone⸻it was as though you could finally lean onto someone...

...or can you?

as jing yuan took you to a nearby stand, he realized that there was too many people crowding around that...and he knew you would be uncomfortable being surrounded by that many people. sitting you down at a bench, he knelt by your side, taking your hand gently. "y/n," he murmured, "there's something i want to get for you over there, but you're gonna have to wait here for a moment. is that okay?"

at first...you were a bit hesitant. you were growing a bit of separation anxiety from the man, considering jing yuan was the only person you knew at the moment. but...you decided to trust him.

what a mistake.

you nodded, pursing your lips. "a-alright. i can wait right here." you say.

jing yuan gives you a soft smile as he gets up, still holding onto your hands. "...thank you. i will be right back."

you watched as he disappeared to the crowd that was gathered around the stand, and to your discomfort, you waited...by yourself.

jing yuan wasn't that far, and you could predict that he'd probably be prioritized as a customer considering everyone knew who he was...

...but it felt like forever.

you were waiting too long⸻well, it felt like you were waiting for hours, when it only had been five minutes. but it was better than being around the crowd, no?

as your eyes cast upwards towards the sky, you admired the starry night. how the stars greeted you with their sparkling glory, how you wondered if there was another world out there...if these stars were actually planets.

...right. the night sky...it was so beautiful.

but your admiration for the stars went to an end when a hand went over your mouth. the scent of chloroform was inhaled through your nostrils, and you were immediately fallen into a sedation period of unconsciousness.

the last thing you heard was,

"think we'll finally make some money once we sell her off. her father paid us well."

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan

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