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#the first handprint brings questions and the second brings answers
clotpolesonly · 11 months
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As Hazy Heaven Trembles
my first TRC fic!! 🥺 only took me several months to finally manage that, lol. why is writing for book fandoms so much more intimidating than writing for tv andoms?? | Pynch | Gen | 3.5k | Pre-Canon | Referenced Child Abuse | Hurt/Comfort | First Kiss | (also on AO3)
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Adam really should talk to Gansey about Monmouth’s front door. Namely, how easy it was to jimmy open even when it was, supposedly, locked. All it took was some aggressive jiggling of the heavy metal, not unlike shaking a vending machine to loosen a stubborn bag of chips, and the locking mechanism cheerfully gave up the ghost. It was horribly unsafe and Adam had been meaning to say something about it for months.
As he jiggled the door open, though, he acknowledged to himself that he wouldn’t. That would require admitting why he knew. It would require admitting that he let himself in sometimes when no one was home. It would require admitting why.
He closed the door behind him, sliding the faulty lock back into place. The clunk of it echoed in the cluttered emptiness of the main room, Gansey’s miniature Henrietta a harsh but silent judge sprawled out across the stained concrete behind him. Adam gave it a quelling look. It continued to judge him, like it always did, as he picked his way toward the bathroom.
He could only bring himself to care so much when his head hurt as much as it hurt right now. He was pretty sure the bleeding had stopped, and the dizziness had only lasted a minute or two, so he wasn’t worried about concussion. At least it hadn’t been the face this time. Black eyes were a lot harder to hide or explain away. He’d have to wear long sleeves for a while, though, for the handprint blooming dark and ugly around his forearm. Keep his coveralls fully on and zipped up at the garage. Hope he didn’t get heat stroke for it.
He’d be fine. He always was. Unless Mr. Lockwood docked his grade for missing first period again. He was usually pretty chill about it, so he probably wouldn’t. It was Mr. Traynor that Adam had to watch out for, but if he showered quick and pedaled fast and luck was on his side, he could still make it to second period on time.
Luck was not on his side.
“What the fuck?”
Adam swung around, his overfull backpack slipping from its careful perch on the only part of his right shoulder that didn’t hurt. The sharp stab of pain caught him off guard almost as much as the sight of Ronan, shirtless and bleary-eyed, leaning out of the bedroom he was not supposed to be in right now.
“What are you—” Adam cut off the stupid question, the answer to which was guaranteed to be a caustic ‘I live here, dumbass, what are you doing here?’, and tried again. “Your car’s not here.”
“Left it at the fairgrounds,” Ronan said, flat with the uncomprehension of being not fully awake yet and, probably, a little hungover. “Got a ride home from Jiang. Gansey’s driving me back out for it later.”
Ronan’s sleepiness was disappearing fast, blue eyes sharpening into shards of ice as they took him in. Adam was acutely aware of the blood in his hair, the hunch to his shoulders that he couldn’t straighten out and still be able to breathe properly, the bruises on his arm hidden under one measly layer of thin cotton blend, the blank fear no doubt on his face.
He expected Ronan to say something. To yell, maybe. About the blood and the bruises and the fear, or about Adam breaking into their home, or a million other things because Ronan liked yelling and was never short on excuses for it. But he didn’t. He just stood there, ramrod straight in his bedroom doorway, so tense that Adam could see the clench of his stomach muscles.
Adam swallowed. “I was just gonna borrow y’all’s shower before second. If you don’t mind.”
Ronan looked like he minded every single aspect of the situation, but he shook his head sharply, once, and Adam took that as the most permission he was likely to get. He had his hand on the door, calculating how much time he could spend on washing up and still account for the traffic around Aglionby, when Ronan found his voice again.
“You’re bleeding.”
Adam ducked his head. His hand found where the hair was damp and sticky before he could stop himself. Face burning, he said, “It’s fine, it looks worse than it—”
“Not there, dumbass.”
Adam’s backpack was yanked off his shoulder. It brought with it another flare of pain, sharper than expected. Ronan’s hand was on his back then, his palm wide and hot through the fabric of Adam’s shirt, and when he brought it around to Adam’s line of sight, there was a smear of fresh blood on it.
Adam didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say, not least because he didn’t remember receiving that particular injury. Logically, he could deduce that it was the same impact with the open refrigerator door that had cut his head open, or maybe the edge of the kitchen counter he’d staggered into in the subsequent dizziness, but there was something disquieting, on a level deeper than logic could touch, about seeing blood he hadn’t known he’d spilled.
When Ronan opened the bathroom door, Adam didn’t resist being pushed inside. Ronan didn’t offer him much choice in the matter and fighting wasn’t worth the effort. He’d wiped Adam’s blood off on the thigh of his sweatpants, red-brown on gray. It would stain if he didn’t wash it soon. He didn’t seem fussed about it.
There was a first aid kit stacked between the microwave and the toilet tank, such that Ronan had to unplug and relocate the microwave to get at it. It wasn’t really a kit, honestly, just a shoebox full of stuff that the factory’s inhabitants had thought might come in handy in case of minor injury. A plethora of loose band-aids of various shapes and sizes, peroxide, gauze, a few half-empty OTC pill bottles, some disinfectant spray, a tub of arnica, a wrist brace that looked like it had been through a war zone and wished it hadn’t made it out alive.
Ronan grabbed the peroxide and a wad of toilet paper.
“Shirt off.” He kicked the toilet lid shut. “Sit down.”
“I don’t need—”
“Off.”
Adam gritted his teeth against a rising tide of words. Biting words. Cruel words. Words that would make Ronan drop the nursemaid bullshit and leave Adam the hell alone to handle his own fucking problems like he wanted to. Like he’d been handling them his entire life just fine.
The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue. They would work. They would probably even feel good to say, in the moment.
He didn’t say them.
Getting his shirt off proved difficult, between the cramped quarters and the way his shoulder protested at being forced to rotate. He didn’t think anything was torn or broken—he knew how that felt—but it was sure sore as all hell. Might be a strain.
Ronan didn’t offer to help, thank god, and he didn’t comment on the moment of struggle. He just waited expectantly until Adam slid around to straddle the lidded toilet in front of him. The peroxide stung like a bitch. Adam swallowed down the hiss he wanted to make. It didn’t feel like too big of a wound, judging by the track Ronan followed along his right shoulder blade. Too big for a band-aid, but nothing he needed to be really concerned about. He’d had worse.
The toilet paper wad disappeared, replaced a moment later by something softer and less astringent; Ronan must have found a reasonably clean washcloth somewhere. He was rinsing away the blood. The cool water felt good. Adam let his head fall forward to meet his forearms, folded across the newly exposed porcelain tank. He did hiss then and shifted his right arm out of the way. The bruises there, tellingly arrayed, stood out plainly even in the dim light from the tiny, grimy window set high in the wall.
“I could kill him.”
Ronan’s words fell into the silence between them like a pebble in a lake. The ripples of it caught in Adam’s throat.
“For what he does to you,” Ronan added, as if either of them needed clarification. “I would kill him with my bare hands if I could get away with it. If it would keep you safe.”
The ripples took hold of his lungs. Something in Adam shook.
This wasn’t a thing they talked about. Gansey talked about it sometimes, because he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep his nose out of where it wasn’t welcome. Noah didn't bring it up often, but he had a bad habit of doing so when Adam wanted him to the least. Ronan had never said a word, though. Adam knew he knew, but he’d always known it quietly. Ronan knew it in the way he showed up sometimes to drive Adam home from late shifts to make sure he got there on time, in the way he sometimes did stupid shit on purpose to get Gansey’s attention when Adam didn’t want to deal with him, in the way he never asked a question Adam didn’t want to answer.
He still wasn’t asking. It didn’t feel like an offer either, or like the threat it could’ve been. It felt like something wholly different. Something loud and something quiet and something altogether more honest than Adam had ever known how to be.
“You know murder is a sin, right?” he murmured against his own skin. Ronan was still dragging the cloth over his back, though surely there was no blood there left to wash away. It had warmed in his hand.
It stilled, a light pressure between his shoulder blades.
“Some sins are worth eternal damnation.”
Adam turned, Ronan’s hand following the motion until it couldn’t anymore and his back was left cold and bare with its absence. He kept his head down when he said, “Don’t say that.”
He couldn’t see Ronan’s face, but he could see the way his fingers tightened around the cloth, the way his knuckles whitened. He could see the smear of blood now well-dried on the thigh of his sweatpants and the traces that remained in the creases of his palm. He could see Ronan’s bare feet against the dull, grimy tile and, from the corner of his downturned eye, the heave of Ronan’s chest as he breathed and spoke.
“I mean it, Parrish.”
Adam raised his head then, drawn by the force of Ronan’s tone.
“I know you do,” he said. “That’s what scares me.”
Ronan didn’t flinch to meet his eyes, but he did frown. The furrow of his brow was something new, at odds with his declaration of surety. In the small bathroom, with Adam turned around to face him properly, there was very little space between them, but Ronan made no move to step back. At his side, his hand twitched forward, then fell.
“You’re not the one who should be scared,” he said. “I don’t want you to—”
“I’m not scared of you.”
The words fell like another pebble in the lake, bringing ripples of silence in their wake. They were as honest as Adam knew how to be.
Ronan looked at him for a long time, brow smoothing and then furrowing again. His lips parted, but no words emerged from them. This was new too. Adam had never known Ronan to be lost for words. Even in his silences, he had always been deliberate.
Now, Ronan closed his mouth and, deliberately, he lifted the washcloth again. It found a spot just under Adam’s left eye. There was no blood there, but there was a scar. A small one, old and long-healed, from the sharp-edged tab of a thrown beer can. Ronan pressed his cloth against the mark like he could wash it off too, like he could make Adam new again.
Adam took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t want you risking your soul for me.”
Ronan stilled but did not take his hand away. He could have, if he’d wanted to. Adam’s grip on him was loose, unrestraining, but he let Adam hold him in place anyway. He was stood, now, between Adam’s knees.
“Do you even believe in the soul?” he asked, somewhere between sardonic and genuine. His eyes were on Adam’s fingers against his skin.
“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. “But you do.”
“It’s my soul,” Ronan said, a stubborn, petulant twist to his mouth. “I can do what I want with it.”
“Ronan.”
He looked away then, blue eyes downcast. The cloth fell away too and left Adam’s fingers with nothing but cool, empty air between them. His feet shuffled, carrying him out of the cradle of Adam’s knees, and Adam was struck by how bare they were, paler than the rest of him with how seldom they were exposed. The open expanse of his chest didn’t hold half the vulnerability of the way his toes curled against the tile. Adam was struck with the urge to kick his own shoes off to match. To meet Ronan where he was.
He stood. There wasn’t room for it. The bathroom, crowded as it was with a laundromat and a kitchen and two mostly-grown young men in it, often felt too small for even one of them. The motion brought Adam into Ronan’s space, almost chest to chest. He said Ronan’s name again and he didn’t recognize his own voice. It was doing something he’d never heard it do before. Something new. Something that his dad would have a lot of unkind things to say about, if he could hear.
Those unkind things were there, stinging, in the back of Adam’s mind. He’d heard them all before, launched at him alongside beer cans, thrown Gansey’s way for daring to wear color, lobbied at the TV and the guy on the sidewalk and anyone else determined to be a worthy target of his father’s rage and derision. They were there, and they stung, and they didn’t matter because Ronan’s eyes were on his again and the silence felt like a holy thing. He could feel Ronan’s breath on his cheek.
It wouldn’t do him any good to tell Ronan that he wasn’t worth sacrificing for, no matter how true the words felt where they sat on his tongue. Telling Ronan what to do was a fruitless endeavor at the best of times and an outright challenge to do the exact opposite at the worst. No, he couldn’t tell Ronan not to care about him. But he could sway forward to close the distance between them. He could let his body, at least, be honest in the way it pressed against Ronan’s, skin to skin in the dim mid-morning light, and turn his head just so until he found Ronan’s parted lips with his own.
He felt the sharpness of Ronan’s indrawn breath, the way Ronan’s chest rose against his, the way the air he took in was taken from Adam’s own lungs. His lips, though, were wonderingly soft, moving gently, questioningly. His eyes stayed closed long after they parted. Adam was sure he’d never seen anything as delicate as the way Ronan’s eyelashes lay against his cheeks. They fluttered there like butterfly wings until his eyes finally opened.
“Why did you do that?”
Maybe Ronan felt the sanctity of the moment too, because his words were hardly more than a whisper.
“Did you not want me to?”
It wasn’t really a question, but Ronan frowned as if it was. His hand rose like he wanted to reach out, to touch, and Adam found that he wanted him to. He wanted the warm weight of Ronan’s palm on his bruised back. He wanted Ronan’s callused fingers on his cheek. He wanted to step forward again until he could feel Ronan’s heartbeat in his own chest. He wanted a lot of things, with a sudden and immediate desperation, that he had never allowed himself to want before.
But Ronan’s hand still held the washcloth, damp and bunched up and turning his fingertips pruny from how long he had been holding onto it. Ronan looked down at it, his frown a living thing, and said, “That’s not why I—”
Adam laid his fingers over Ronan’s. “I know.” Gently, he pried the cloth from Ronan’s grasp and dropped it, not caring where it landed. “I wouldn’t have, if I’d thought so.”
Ronan looked like he wanted to repeat his question, to demand that Adam justify what he had done, but the words were swallowed when Adam did it again. He kissed Ronan simply, because that’s what it felt like: simple. It wasn’t, he knew, not really. But in this moment, in this nonsensical space, at a time neither of them should’ve been there, with bare skin and blood in his hair, kissing Ronan felt like the simplest thing in the world.
Ronan’s hands found his waist, then his ribs, then the curve of his neck. They were softer than Adam would’ve expected, if he’d ever given himself leave to speculate on how Ronan Lynch would touch him. Not like he was broken or breakable, but like he was precious. The tenderness of Ronan’s thumb on the hinge of Adam’s jaw, feeling the motion of their mouths together, brought with it a dangerous wave of emotion in him, something hot and cold and complicated that lodged in his stomach and would not be moved.
Those roving hands slid up into his hair next and a hiss of pain caught them both off guard. The blood had dried, but the wound remained, and the back of Adam’s head still ached something fierce.
“Fuck,” Ronan muttered against his lips. “Sorry.”
“S’alright.” Adam let him retreat, not that there was far to go. He reached up to poke at the wound himself, wincing double as his shoulder reminded him of its own damage. The hair there was molded into sticky-crunchy spikes. Flecks of dried blood flaked off between his fingers. “I really do need a shower.”
Ronan nodded. His cheeks were pink. So were his lips, flushed and wet and familiar now in a way they’d never been before. Eyes averted, he cleared his throat.
“Right. I should, uh…” He thumbed over his shoulder.
Adam had never thought he would be able to smile with his own blood on his hands, but he’d also never thought he would bear witness to Ronan Lynch looking shy. Whatever holy stillness had surrounded them a moment ago was gone, leaving just a boy in its wake. A boy who cared about Adam more than himself. A boy who didn’t make demands of him. A boy with a sharp smile and soft hands. A boy who Adam had kissed, and kissed, and already wanted to kiss again.
A boy who lingered in the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re probably not gonna make it to second period.” He even had the good grace to sound sorry about it.
Adam shrugged his good shoulder, though. “Traynor’s a jackass anyway.”
Ronan’s bark of laughter took even him by surprise. “Yeah, fuck that guy. You should skip the whole day and hang out with me instead. Save me from my lonely, hungover house arrest. You know, I always feel like Gansey’s little diorama is judging me on his behalf?”
Adam ducked his head to hide the flush that stole across his cheeks, somehow both embarrassed and pleased to have had the same thought. “We can add a few buildings ourselves,” he said around a stubborn smile. “Put an X-Mart downtown, see how long it takes Gansey to notice.”
Ronan’s answering grin was all mischief. He knocked his knuckles against the door before closing it behind him. Adam could hear him whistling something lively as he moved about the main room, probably gathering building supplies.
He should go to class. He should rinse the blood off quick as he could, get on his bike, and pedal hard to salvage as much of the school day as he could manage. But the urgency from earlier was hard to keep hold of. So he would miss a few class periods, get docked a few points, have to borrow Gansey’s history notes and ask Tad Carruthers what the homework was in English Lit. It had all happened before and likely would again. So he would have to go home tonight and keep his head down until his father’s mood had passed. That had happened before too, and would again.
For now, he had a warm shower, and hazy mid-morning light through grimy windows, and a wonderful, messy, contradiction of a boy waiting for him in the other room. As Adam finally turned the water on, he thought that maybe luck had been on his side after all.
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Inside Babymetal's ambitious new chapter: "there have been times I felt unsure if I could continue"
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Clap-clap, clap-clap-clap, clap-clap-clap-clap, “Yon yon!” Clap-clap, clap-clap-clap, clap-clap-clap-clap, “Yon yon!” The chant fills the thick air of the windowless, wood-panelled restaurant as 130 Babymetal fans at an aftershow party raise their glasses and cheer. Some have painted their faces white like Babymetal’s backing musicians, the Kami Band, and many sport official merch or custom t-shirts. All are ecstatic. 
Metal Hammer are in Chiba prefecture, 30 miles east of Tokyo. It’s Sunday January 29, 2023 and we’ve just witnessed the second of two consecutive Babymetal shows at the Makuhari Messe convention centre in the company of 15,000 other fans. As with every Babymetal gig we’ve seen, they were loud, colourful and unlike anything else out there. 
Yet until recently, there was no certainty that a Babymetal performance, or a party like this, would ever happen again. On October 10, 2021 (10/10/2021), following a 10-date series of shows to celebrate 10 years of Babymetal, a mysterious announcement online proclaimed the band had been ‘sealed’. No one knew when or whether they’d return.
Then, exactly a year and a day later, there was another announcement: ‘the seal would finally be lifted’ with a ‘two-day performance’ called Babymetal Returns – The Other One. A concept album, also called The Other One, would follow. Back at the gathering, superfan Susumu – more on him later – says he felt conflicted about the news. 
“I had a mixture of anxiety and anticipation,” he remembers. “Is the Kami Band alive and well? Could they possibly become virtual or a backing track? But on the other hand, I was hopeful that I would be able to see their amazing performance again and experience Babymetal live with my whole body.” 
Later, Babymetal co-vocalist Moametal will explain the reasons behind the duo’s hiatus to Metal Hammer. “It’s been 10 years of purely pushing forward and not looking back in order to achieve Metal Resistance,” she will say. “Taking a breather allowed me to take a step back and really appreciate how much love I have for Babymetal. So, I truly hope our fans understand that being sealed was an essential time for us.” 
Still, other questions remain: What’s the story behind their new album? Will they ever bring in a permanent third member to replace the much-missed Yui, who departed in 2018? And what does their future hold? We’ve come to Tokyo for answers.
Twenty-four hours earlier, we arrive at concrete behemoth Makuhari Messe for show one. In the foyer is a monument bearing the handprints of the wrestling and fencing athletes who won gold medals here during the Tokyo 2020 Olympics. With his pink hair, matching pink t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Funky Metal Babys’ and oversized yellow glasses, Babymetal fan Kenji resembles 90s UK personality Timmy Mallet. He’s been to more than 20 Babymetal shows. But for his Sanrio rabbit puppet My Melody, it’s the first one. 
Near some lockers, a posse dressed like the Kami Band amasses, in full facepaint and white robes. By a bank of vending machines, we get talking to Uyumetal, who’s wearing cute black satin bows in her hair and sings in tribute band Dizzymetal, which formed in 2015. Why the name Dizzymetal? “We love alcohol! Good songs and drinks make us dizzy!” She laughs and waves her arms around her head, to illustrate her point. 
What does she think will happen tonight? “A big bang! Ha ha ha! Moametal, Su-metal… big bang!” At the guestlist desk, we’re handed a grey and black ‘Savior Mask’ to slip over our plain one. Currently in Japan, masks must be worn when you’re within two metres of someone else, even outside. The good news is that, just yesterday, the government lifted restrictions on concerts, meaning people are now allowed to shout loudly. 
An usher hurries us to our seat, and we watch messages loop on the big screens in each corner of the room. They include: ‘Please wear your Savior Mask at all times’, ‘No smart phones’ and ‘No banners’ – each accompanied by a cute skeleton illustration. The most entertaining ones are ‘No other nuisances’, alongside an image of two side-by-side skeletons getting clonked on the head by a crowd surfer, and ‘No big head costumes’, showing a skeleton wearing an oversized Fox God head. 
At 6.10pm, the lights go out. A video message plays, accompanied by a voiceover: “The time has come for us to unify our voices once again,” it declares. “The Fox Gate is where a new journey begins.” 
Ten figures robed in black march slowly down a central aisle, bathed in blue light, to the suspenseful intro of Metal Kingdom – the first track on The Other One. Each bears a golden staff that looks like an upside-down pair of scissors, two large Os sticking out the top to represent the album title. 
At the head of the aisle, lights illuminate two enormous, stone-grey doors with fox heads carved into them, eyes glowing red. The doors part, and a platform wreathed in dry ice slides out to reveal three ornate thrones: Su-metal sits in the middle, Moametal is to her left… and the other throne is empty.
Moametal walks down the aisle while Su-metal starts to sing, and then she turns to face her bandmate. They end up on either side of a round stage in the middle of the walkway, sweeping and raising intricate tridents, before stepping forwards. Their podium rises. Firework showers detonate along the length of the gangway, causing a ripple of awe. Uyu-metal was right! 
Since Yui left the band, Su and Moa have appeared with one of a revolving cast of dancers, dubbed ‘The Avengers’. This time they’re joined by Momoko, formerly of Babymetal’s previous band, Sakura Gakuin. The trio run through Divine Attack - Shingeki – The Other One’s second song – on the round stage, which by this point has moved to the other end of the venue, in front of another static stage featuring the Kami Band. Still with us? 
During Pa Pa Ya!!, red and orange lights flash as pyro explodes, while the crowd whirl souvenir scarves above their heads like a Japanese version of Skindred’s Newport Helicopter. New Bring Me-inflected song Monochrome begins with a round of gunfire drumming, and the girls are thrown into dramatic light and shade. “Take your phone out!” yells Su. “Turn on your light!” The sight is breathtaking. 
But the most WTF moment comes during upbeat 2013 classic Doki Doki * Morning. Before the song, the words ‘The Other One. In The Metalverse Of Madness’ flash onto screens in the Marvel font. A voiceover says that beyond the Fox Gate, there is a world we can’t even imagine. A parallel world, in which there exists a lifeform beyond comprehension – but are they a threat, or are they a friend? The gate of the new world is about to open…
The girls begin on the round stage, in front of the Kami Band – who, despite being out of the spotlight tonight, are Slipknot levels of thunderous. It glides towards the middle of the room – and then, another round stage sails up to meet it. Another round stage with another Babymetal on it, dressed in the red-and-black colour scheme of their earlier days. They mirror each other’s dancing, collapsing in a heap at the end. It is truly surreal. Then they disappear, as if they were never there.
 There’s one more surprise. After closer The Legend, the Kami Band vanish. In near darkness, on opposite sides of the stage, Su and Moa ascend a flight of stairs, red horizontal strip lights appearing with every step. They pause in front of neon white coffin outlines, and a booming noise rings out like an advert for Dolby surround sound. The lights come up. It’s only 7.30pm, but it feels like we’ve been inside their Metalverse for hours.
The next afternoon, several hundred Babymetal fans assemble for a group photo on a staircase outside Makuhari Messe. Tipped off by a Tweet from ChiyoMetal, owner of a Fox God-themed bar in Tokyo’s bustling Shinjuku, we’ve come to take a look.
One of the fans on the staircase is Ukky, an engineer from Kawasaki, an hour and a half away. Ukky has been a Babymetal fan “for about five or six years”. He’s wearing a new Babymetal hoodie and holding a purple puppet of the Kami Band’s Ohmura Takayoshi. Impressively, it plays a pink guitar. It turns out he built it himself. “This took about a month to make,” he says with a smile. “First I bought a book about how to make a puppet, and then I made the guitar with a 3D printer.” 
Ukky is part of a Facebook group called Bokuchi-kai. They’re having an aftershow meet-up at a nearby izakaya – a type of informal restaurant, where groups of friends or colleagues meet to let loose – but he can’t attend, because he has to get home to his family. Can we go to the meet-up? He smiles and says he thinks it’ll be OK, but he’ll have to ask his Leader. We exchange email addresses, and he takes a selfie with us as proof of identity. Then, we wait. 
At 5pm, show two begins. This time, we notice more details. The new songs are mid-paced and mature, with choreography to match – there’s a greater emphasis on hand gestures, rather than frantic jumps or exaggerated facial expressions, making the likes of Gimme Chocolate!! seem sweetly ironic. It’s not surprising, given Su is now 25 and Moa is 23. Later, Su will tell us that Divine Attack - Shingeki is the first song she’s written lyrics for. 
“From here, a new journey begins once again. It is a song about our determination to pave another path,” she will say mysteriously. The audience are rowdier, too, perhaps now accustomed to shouting behind their masks. 
Although there’s a special ‘Silent Mosh’sh Pit’ area for people who have children or just don’t want to get pushed around, the regular pit goes off for Headbangeeeeerrrrr!!!!! with its ‘dogeza headbanging’, where people fall to their knees and bow. 
It’s pretty much the same show as last night, but, because this is Babymetal, there’s one final reveal. Fox Day – April 1 – will bring a new stage for Babymetal, “together with a departure into a new world”. 
Two more shows are announced, for April 1 and 2 at Yokohama’s Pia Arena. Then, Su-metal and Moametal advance to their coffins like before. But this time, a third coffin appears in the middle, together with an unknown third person, their back to the audience. The atmosphere is electric.
The venue is emptying, and from backstage we can hear Bury Tomorrow’s Earthbound blasting over the PA. A rep from Amuse, Babymetal’s management company, appears with Su and Moa. They are still in their costumes, their holographic neck-pieces shining brightly under the harsh lighting. We congratulate them on the shows – so much energy! – and they say ‘thank you’, eyes smiling above white masks. 
The Amuse rep asks if we noticed anything different about tonight’s show. Yes, we say – there was a third coffin! And a third member! But who is it? “Only the Fox God knows!” they giggle in unison. Well, it was worth a shot… We ask about the hiatus. The band were only gone for a year, and during that time, they obviously worked on fourth album The Other One. Yet, with a question mark hanging over their future, it felt like much longer for fans. Was there any doubt about the band continuing? 
“I love Babymetal. I love our team, I love our fans more than anything, and everyone at Metal Hammer,” says Moa. “But to be honest, there have been times when I felt unsure if I could continue or not. Words or attitude without any love will hurt people. There were times when no matter how much I put into performing, I felt as if I was not loved. 
“At that moment in time, someone at Metal Hammer said, ‘Your dancing is incredible! I can’t imagine Babymetal without the dance component!’ I felt so happy to hear and  Su-metal and Moametal perform with Momoko – one of their ‘Avengers’ realise that people notice my dancing. Being commended is always a great feeling, and as I’m saying this, I realise I’m so basic, aren’t I? Ha ha!” 
We ask for more details about why she felt she wasn’t loved, but none are forthcoming – though when musicians express sentiments like this, it’s often related to unkind commentators online. Moving on to The Other One, we try to uncover more about the concept. 
“It’s about Babymetal’s other story in which 10 parallel worlds were discovered,” says Su. “All 10 tracks are based on myths, and each track represents a myth.” 
The myths are drawn from many countries, not just Japan, and the 10 worlds are called Cavalry, Illusions, Coffin, Inverted Mirror Reflection, Monochrome, Smoke, Light And Darkness, Transition, Mirror and Throne. 
In October 2021, back when the band was ‘sealed’, a new piece of merch called Black Box was released, featuring postcards of the band depicted in these parallel worlds, plus online access to snippets of unreleased music. These snippets were then ‘restored’ to become the songs on The Other One. No doubt we’ll spend hours trying to make sense of the concept. 
“It’s a bit difficult, isn’t it?” smiles Moa. “To put it simply, it’s like Babymetal existing in a world separate from the one we see now. And I think the title points to that ‘other’ Babymetal that exists in a parallel universe.” 
When we ask who was in the alternative Babymetal during Doki Doki * Morning, we don’t get an answer… Babymetal founder/producer/Fox God emissary Kobametal materialises. It took him two-three months to think up the production for these comeback shows, he explains. Once he had the idea for the symbol for The Other One – two interlinking Os that represent the infinity symbol – it came to him quickly, and he’s already planning for April. 
The trio thank us for coming, and present us with a gift bag containing a t-shirt and a transparent coffin keyring. We wave goodbye and leave them to a well-earned rest.
Back in the foyer of Makuhari Messe, we check our inbox. There’s an email from Ukky about the aftershow get-together, containing the address of the restaurant: Inawaraya Kaihin-makuhariten, on the first floor of the Excellio Makuhari shopping mall, a 20-minute walk down Chiba’s wide, immaculate streets. The Leader has approved our request. 
When we arrive at the door, a stern-looking man in a Babymetal t-shirt is sitting behind a wooden table with some papers attached to a clipboard – presumably a guestlist – and he won’t let us in. After several minutes of back and forth, he goes inside, and returns with a man wearing a name badge that says ‘Vins Metal’. 
“Metal Hammer?” We nod, and he opens the door. Vins Metal introduces us to the Leader – Susumu. Grinning from ear to ear, he leads us up the room and yells, “METAL HAMMER!” In response, everyone rises and cheers “METAL HAMMER!”, some standing on their seats and others filming us on their phones. 
Susumu grabs hold of Hiroshi, a 74-year-old senior research assistant at Virginia Tech in the US, who’s fluent in English. He waves his arm, and everyone sitting along the side of his table immediately gets up, abandoning their food and drinks to make way for us. We remove our shoes and take a seat. 
Susumu discovered Babymetal after his son showed him the video for Akatsuki, but when he went to see the band by himself, he felt lonely and walked out. Back then, you often had to apply for VIP tickets via a lottery, meaning many people ended up in the same position. Plus, he admits, many have wives and girlfriends who don’t like Babymetal, and aren’t interested in seeing them live. 
In Japanese, a ‘bochi’ is a person who attends a gig alone, so the Facebook group he formed in 2018 is called ‘Bokuchi-kai’, meaning ‘The lonely fox’. It has 940 members.
What does his own wife think of the group? Susumu lets out a long laugh, and Hiroshi interprets. “Disgusted? No, actually, it’s a very difficult word in Japanese, because it’s a combination of ‘disgusted’ plus ‘I’ve given up’! He’s already paid 10,000 Euros ahead of time for tonight, so if nobody came, he’d be short. And he says, keep it a secret, because his wife doesn’t know about it! Ha ha!” 
Luckily, the izakaya is packed. A stream of excitable members come over for selfies, and present us with homemade gifts. Mota-Metal hands us a sticker that riffs on the Red Hot Chili Peppers logo, and KIMI3 gives us a wooden keyring with a shiny golden fox head attached, plus a phone charm depicting Su-metal and Moametal on their thrones. 
Minako-Metal gifts us a sticker of herself, and thanks us for including a photo of her and her friends dressed as the Kami Band in our last Babymetal feature. Periodically, the chant from 4 no Uta breaks out: clapclap, clap-clap-clap, clap-clap-clap-clap, “Yon yon!” 
When the night’s over, we gather outside for photos. As we thank Susumu for his hospitality, he pumps his fist in the air and yells ‘METAL HAMMER!’ some more, and everyone follows his cue. We respond with a Babymetalstyle “See youuuuu!” And the group choruses “See youuuu!” and waves goodbye.
These gigs, and the imminent release of The Other One, mark a major new chapter in the Babymetal story. Since their initial burst of virality in 2014, they have been working towards establishing themselves as a bona fide metal band with staying power. 
If second album Metal Resistance capitalised on their newfound fame, and 2019’s Metal Galaxy cemented it with collaborators such as Sabaton’s Joakim Brodén and Arch Enemy’s Alissa White-Gluz, The Other One feels like a sleeker, more grown-up statement about Babymetal in 2023. Or Babymetal and their interdimensional counterparts, to be exact. 
“The theme this time around was The Other One – the other Babymetal we never knew existed. Therefore, this concept album needed to be comprised only of us,” says Moametal. “Although no guest singers were involved, now that I think about it, since we’re exploring the Babymetal from another dimension we never knew existed, maybe we are the guest singers!” 
The girls still have ambitions to fulfil. Su-metal would like to collaborate with Bring Me The Horizon again, and Rammstein – “It would be so cool to blow fire!”. 
Moametal’s are more… unexpected. “Recently, I had the opportunity to speak to the Backstreet Boys and we spoke about how we would love to perform together,” she reveals. “I think it would be so fun and interesting to go beyond genres and collaborate with them. Also, I would love to collaborate with Måneskin. I was surprised to hear that they were actually younger than us, because I totally thought they were older than me. But us both being in the same generation, I feel so inspired and also motivated.” 
In turn, Babymetal have paved the way for the next generation. Later this week, we go for dinner with rising metallers Hanabie. With a song called We Love Sweets and an immense sense of fun, singer Yukina cites them as an influence. 
“I feel honoured that a Japanese band like us is getting a lot of attention,” says Su-metal. “I would love to be onstage with them one day.” 
As for the immediate future, the third member (Momoko? Yui?!), and the parallel-universe (Doki Doki * Morning Babymetal?) All we can do is cross our kitsunes and hope for more intel on Fox Day. 
“Babymetal is constantly growing and evolving, and I believe change is always good,” says Moametal. “At times, I want to be a bit lazy and slack off, but when I think about your radiant smiles, I know I need to shake it off and do my best! Even while I am being interviewed right now, I am growing, so I don’t want you to miss a single second of it. Please keep your eyes on us, OK?”
Babymetal's new album The Other One is out now.
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cocowinterpup · 8 months
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Appetizer from "Cursed Winds in Bamboo Grass"
The room was cold, the air thick with malice. Cotton filled desperate lungs. Eyes refused to close, as if stapled open. She stared back at the visage, her blood like concrete in her veins. “And besides, I’m dead.” He said blankly. “I died cuz you questioned me, you know. Don’t you feel any responsibility?” She couldn't answer, guilt and fear clogging her throat. “And I suffered a long time cuz of you too, right? You got anything to say to that?” She sputtered, “I…I…” She really didn’t. He laughed. “No reason to clam up, you damn murderer.” The cheery smile on his face completely contrasted the brutality of his words. “No! I… I did… the most I could…!” She tried. Who was she justifying her actions too? Him… or to her?
“And this is how it turned out?” Shadow seemed to cover his eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to meet them anymore. “I protected everyone.” “But I died.” He spat. “Kai died, too.” “But…” She tried. It was getting her nowhere. “Just stop it already, Joe!! Please!” He was quiet for a second. When his voice returned, the tone was darker, threatening. “You wanna look away?” Her heart raced faster, already empty lungs fighting a frightening pressure. In a heartbeat, his face was right in hers, an unnatural smile almost literally ripping his face in two. His teeth were gritted in that horrifying grin as he screeched, “LOOK ME IN THE EYE.” It was awfully ironic, really, that he’d say that. He had no eyes to look into. Sara shot upright, hands flying to her pounding chest. She desperately gasped for air. Head aching, she attempted to gather her bearings. The room was unfamiliar. Like a hotel, a queen size mattress was centered against the wall. Grey sheets lay over her lap, matching pillows crushed behind her. Beside the bed stood a small side table beneath a warm wall light and beside that stood a completely unnecessary floor lamp of the same warm color. A large mirror hung on the wall between two armchairs.
Sara stood and drifted to the mirror, locking eyes with a mess of a woman. Her hair was strewn about wildly. Her skin was pale and sickly, the bags around her eyes less of bags and more of chasms. Cool sweat gave her already poor complexion a deathly shimmer and stuck her bangs to her cheeks. The choppy face-frame haircut only made her look more like roadkill when it stuck to her like that. Humiliated, she turned her attention to the task at hand. The Death Game. If she wanted to survive this, she couldn’t afford to admire her half dead self in the mirror, she had to get moving. “Sara…” She froze. Subtle movement drew her eye to the bed. The stain was small at first, but it quickly spread outward like ripples in a pool. The fabric grew dark and the color shifted, rapidly becoming stomach churning red. Sara jumped out of her skin when the wall light suddenly went out. “How long are you going to run…?” As the voice murmured to her, blood ran slowly down the stand of the floor lamp, as if spilling through the shade. Her eyes intensely followed the stream as it trailed down to the floor. She almost didn’t notice the pool that formed around her own feet, only realizing when it reached the foot of the bed. Again, she jumped. This time, handprints appearing on the lamp’s shade. “Die with me, Sara.” Sara watched in horror as her reflection in the mirror began to change. In place of her own ginger hair sprouted wild and flirty brown locks, matted together with dirt and blood. It was clipped away from hollow eyes with a shining golden clasp. Her horrified eyes morphed into much more sinister hollows, what were once eternally smiling now eternally gone. As she stared, she became conscious of other figures in the room with her, seating themselves beside the mirror. Before a tasteful pillow sat a mass of unruly grey hair, forming a sort of crown around the severed head. Sara’s voice was no more than a tortured whisper. “Professor Mishima…” Facing away from her sat the full figure of a man, his red apron stained even darker with the liquid that ran from his wrists. His head was hung, as if he refused to see her. Even more pained than before, Sara couldn’t voice more than the ‘k.’ “Kai…” Again her eyes returned to the mirror, the visage she saw there felt so real. It couldn’t be. She knew it couldn’t. But, God, it really felt like it was. She mustered every ounce of strength she could find. It wasn’t much. “You… You’re not Joe!” Sara cried. “This is just a dream…!” “So cold, man.” He replied. What she said couldn’t possibly be colder than his tone. “Aren’t we best friends?” “Shut up…!!” Sara screamed. She threw her fist into the mirror, hoping to silence the man herself. The glass shattered beneath her hand, his tormenting smile splitting into fragments. Pain shot through her arm and her mouth hung agape. She wanted to cry out, but her voice was gone. Sara could only babble, small gasps escaping her. “I…It hurts…” She mumbled. “Someone…help…” “I’ll make you more comfortable.” The voice drawled. Firm fingers wrapped mercilessly around her throat, the visage no longer confined to the reflection. “Stop…I can’t breathe…Joe,” Sara pleaded. The visage only grinned wider, her pleas reaching the wrong ears. ���St…op…!!” “Sara…Get a grip, Sara!”
Excerpt from my new book "Cursed Winds in Bamboo Grass." Chapter one is now available on both Archive of Our Own and Wattpad.
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aturnoftheearth · 3 years
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something about the first handprint being seared onto dean’s skin, hidden by layers of clothes unseen, questioning vs the bloody handprint being on his jacket, for all to see, answering
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slytherbun · 3 years
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confession
pairing: jay halstead x reader
summary: you find yourself in some trouble while clearing a location with your partner jay.
word count: 2.8k
tags: @specialagentsoftie @fighterkimburgess @everythingaddictxx
note: different kind of pd fic then i'm used to but hope y'all like it! ☺
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"we're eight minutes out. don't go in yet." voight said into the mic but you and jay had already entered a second too late.
jay's been your partner for almost a year now. the one he had before you was a blonde named hailey that took a position from the fbi.
when you first met him it was about a month after the previous detective left and you could tell he was obviously still in denial. you gave him space and only input your opinion about cases you worked on with intelligence.
it took about three weeks until he actually said anything besides the occasional comment. and he knew deep down that you weren't trying to replace her. but since you were together a lot during the week—jay couldn't help but make his own conclusion about you.
he started to open up more when he looked past the stubbornness after concluding that you were a decent person. for a moment there, you could have sworn he was having an out of body experience with how nice he started treating you.
jay started to invite you out to drinks on a periodic basis. he wanted to explore the possibilities of having you as his permanent partner. one night after a couple of drinks, jay was in a good mood and showed you a picture of his old partner.
the two of them were standing in front of their new work truck with bright smiles on their faces. he talked about her a lot after that night as a way of meeting you half-way. and by the end of that month—it was as if you physically knew her and who she was as a person.
the both of you hit it off pretty well and became friends. even as far as, having drinks every tuesday and thursday after work at molly's—the firefighter owned bar.
jay mumbled a curse at the order voight gave but it was already too late. "get behind me." he spoke in a hushed whisper. not wanting to argue in that particular moment you did as told.
detective halstead had his gun raised and in a firm grip around his fingers before stepping further into the house. you followed his position and warily stepped more into the creaky house.
luckily the both of you had vests already on and around your chests. the material easily gave you a visual view of his arm muscles around the freckles splayed across his biceps.
right away you spotted the cans of spray paint sitting on the concrete living room floors. crude words were traced along the four walls and you couldn't help but scrunch your nose at the horrid smell.
it only had you raising your pistol higher.
while you glanced around to survey the room closely, you couldn't help but notice the gang symbols that you were familiar with. due to the cpd database you knew at least three different affiliations drawn over the wood boarded windows.
the overused drug house looked like something out of a horror movie.
"clear." he grunted between paced cautious breaths and you continued to walk behind his careful steps around the garbage to venture into the main hallway of the house.
jay stopped at the entryway and you turned back around to double check the area once again while he scanned the front view where you and he needed to go.
both sides of the hallway were clear but he made sure his gun was raised and followed every inch of the hallway space that he inspected.
you felt a tap on your waist and turned back around to see jay was still facing forward. he probably hadn't noticed the spot he touched of your body but it still sent shivers down your spine with the intimacy of it.
but you pushed away the anxiousness to check and see what was bothering jay. the only thought you should be having right now is how to get out of the dangerous position.
the hallway was full of open and vulnerable space. a clear point of range that could be taken advantage of to take either you or jay out at any time.
jay was concerned for you. he couldn't help the anxious feeling that he had in the pit of his stomach. the unknowingness ahead in the crack house irked him greatly that he couldn’t predict what was about to happen.
the walls of the hallway smelled highly metallic and if that hadn't given it away, the walls were filled with fresh blood splatter. you gulped at the sight of the bright red handprints going down the length of the hall and glanced at jay from the corner of your eye with an eyebrow raised.
he sighed and nodded his head while pointing his gun to the left to signal the continuance of moving on. you bit the bottom of your lip and tipped your head to let him know you were ready to go.
turning your body in a three hundred sixty angle, you watched his back and felt the hairs on the back of your neck lift up in a static gesture. you could also feel goosebumps all over your arms and you just wanted to hurry up and get out of there.
it was truly the most awful scene you've ever been to. with everything you had—you kept yourself together and calm. your lips were in a straight line the whole time.
you should have known with the uneasy feeling that things were going wrong within a split second. and you were right because after jay turned just slightly he felt a gun being pressed against his forehead.
“put your guns down or else i’m going to blow his head off.” an angered voice said into the echoey hall.
not believing what was happening, you turned your body to survey the area and another man came into your view and held his gun higher. “‘tsk tsk’ miss. hand me that gun or else we’re going to have problems.” jay sighed from behind you and you rolled your eyes.
“i’m not putting down shit until you tell me your demands.” you said maybe a little too cockily but it was protocol.
voight had told the team plenty of times to stall and not give up your gun at first. in hopes that the other’s would show up and it would become a better outcome if you just continued talking to the person who was a threat.
a third one appeared and now you were officially outnumbered but you were still hoping they were dumber than they looked. the one that was pressing a firearm to your partner’s temple spit out, “listen lady. you either put your weapon down or else his brain matter will be just another body that was paved across the walls of this house.”
you tried to calculate in your head quickly if you should take the risk of surrendering. voight said they were eight minutes out. and if you’ve been in the house for almost four minutes now.
that was half the time left until they were going to show but then those few precious minutes would be enough time for literally anything.
sometimes you hated being a part of the police force. how could you ever know the correct answer and outcome within a split second of your life? could anybody be capable of that? whatever choice you decided to take would be the outcome.
you knew you wouldn’t be able to live without jay as your partner and in your life. and his blood would be on your hands if you didn’t surrender now. a shaky breath fell past your lips when you clicked the safety back on and handed it to one of them.
of course they used your gun against you and headbutted you with it. little black spots were in your vision before it completely knocked you out. you just hoped the intelligence team would be able to find you and jay.
it would be your fault and you’d feel guilty until your last breath if they didn’t.
you weren’t sure how much time had passed but a hard slap against your cheek woke you up. a blood trail still continued to trickle down your forehead and you winced at the feeling of an awful beating in your eardrums. “wake up sleeping bitch.”
you tried to speak but instead you coughed at the buildup in your throat. not being able to help yourself, in a snarky tone you replied. “i thought it was sleeping beauty?” that earned you another slap that ensured fingerprints across your cheek but you weren’t feeling any regret about it.
“now shut up and answer my next question.” he inputted before you could interrupt again. you looked at him with a devious grin and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “what were you looking for in that house?”
when you leaned forward, you realized the reason why you couldn’t move was because your arms were tied behind your back. but nonetheless you leaned forward encroaching in his space enough to feel his breath span out against your red cheek.
“as if i’d tell you.” your defiance had him pushing your head back forcefully so you hit the concrete behind you, feeling as if a baseball bat hit your skull.
he smirked at your uncomfort. “perhaps a little visit with your boyfriend will help you come to understand that i don’t mess around. if you don’t give me an answer—my boys won’t hesitate to put a bullet straight through his head.” your only reply was a silent one.
spitting blood onto his shoes and he cursed before grinning again. “yeah that’s what i thought.” turning his head towards the door, he yelled. “bring the pretty boy in!”
your shoulders immediately dropped when they entered the room. the other two men from earlier were dragging jay into the room and disposed of his body roughly on the ground in front of you. if it weren’t for his chest rising up and down faintly then you would have thought he was dead.
both of his eyes were already swollen and you knew he would have two black eyes for weeks, dried blood dripped down his face and you didn’t even want to look at the rest of his body. despite the fact he was wearing clothes, you knew he had many internal problems that would need only the care a hospital could provide.
“j-jay?” you stuttered at the sight of him.
he kept blacking out and struggled to stay awake. jay had been counting his breaths to make sure he had enough air circulating through his body. cracked ribs were no joke and he could only groan to let his favorite person know that he was still holding on.
“you think beating people is the only answer? violence?” you glanced around the room and glared at the three with a venomous look. they shared similar smiles hearing how hoarse your voice was.
“i hope my team finds you all and you rot!” the two that brought jay in walked away and the one that talked to you a few moments ago stood and looked down at you. saying one more thing before walking out the door and shutting it. “and i hope next time i come in here—you’ll feel more generous and tell me what you were up to. if you don’t then our pretty boy here will die as promised.”
as soon as he left the room, you started rubbing your arms up and down the wall in hopes that the binds around your wrists would break off. “y/n.” jay mumbled. you didn’t even notice he had turned his face and you shushed him. “don’t open your eyes jay. it’ll be okay, i promise.”
he tried again. “y-y/n. i need to t-tell you something.” jay’s lip was busted and bruised. he hissed at the pain. “you don’t need to tell me anything. we’re getting out of here, detective halstead.” you stated with confidence and continued to run your hands up and down despite the sting of your wrists.
jay had a feeling earlier this morning that something bad would happen. his gut had told him something and he wished he hadn’t ignored it. but he can’t always follow everything, especially when they didn’t even have their case yet. but of course after finding out the hard way, this case was bad.
he knew it and it still put you in harm's way but jay had to tell you how he felt just in case it did go the way he was hoping it wouldn’t. “i don’t care if i need to keep my strength right now. listen to me please.” he pleaded and you finally stopped, turning to glance at his face.
jay was squinting and the visual of his state had your stomach churning.
“y/n i haven’t been completely honest with you and i need to tell you this. i’ve wanted to for a while now, but i just couldn’t find the right moment to.” it was getting to the point where you were desperately trying to keep together. and now that he wanted to confess a deep secret that he’s held close to his chest, the whole thing just had you hysterical.
jay frowned when you started laughing. he tried to scoot closer but the pain he felt was significant. it was just one of those situations where it wasn’t an appropriate response but you couldn’t help yourself either.
he noticed the tears falling down your cheeks while watching you quiet down. a reaction like this didn’t surprise your partner so he didn’t blame your outburst in the least. “i’m s-sorry. i’m sorry.” you muttered and tilted your head to both sides.
you looked back over to jay after successfully wiping more than half of the tears on your sleeve. and for a moment he just gazed into your eyes with his blue ones. a look that you couldn’t decipher nor describe appeared across his face but he seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking.
jay cleared his throat and continued with what he was about to say earlier. “it’s okay y/n. but i need you to know that i don’t blame you in the slightest for what went down in that house. i would have done the same exact thing because i love you.”
it was like time stopped and you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. after all of that time you spent with jay. him wanting nothing to do with you, then becoming your acquaintance, somewhat of a real friend and he loved you?
“you really love me?” you questioned. not being able to believe what was coming out of his mouth. you wondered if the three men drugged him and he was high or delusional. a grunt came out his mouth at the current aching pain he felt all over his body.
“yes y/n, i love you so much. if i could, i’d be over there right now and giving you a hug. then i’d lean down and give you a kiss that i’ve been wanting to give you for months now.”
that honesty from him had you laughing, “months? me too. i’ve wanted to kiss you for almost the whole year that i’ve known you.” you replied with the same amount of honesty he had given you.
“yeah, y/n. it’s probably going to be a year soon but i meant what i said. i really do love you and i’m sorry we’re in the situation that we’re in now. i wish i could protect you from this.” before you could reply the two of you heard gunshots outside of the room. “shit! i hope that’s them.” you mumbled and jay nodded as best as he could.
the door banged open and hit the wall. you almost peed your pants with how happy you were to see kevin and adam surveying the room. “clear!” kevin announced and then walked over to you and jay. adam spoke into the radio, “5021 ida. we have officers down and need two ambos rolled to our location.”
after kevin ripped the binds from your wrists, you crawled over to jay even though your arms were killing you. another tear fell down your cheek when you got up and close to him. he looked awful but now that the two of you were safe, he could begin to heal soon enough. “jay.” he made a ‘hmm’ sound due to the exhaustion he was feeling.
“i love you too.” you finally said and he smiled. you leaned down to brush your lips against his carefully. “after all of this is done. i’m going to give you a proper one.”
you winked and he grinned and responded while the medics rolled in. “we have plenty of time in the world now.”
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chiliiscereal · 2 years
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Gone gone gone part 4
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The amazing Spider-Man x sister! Reader
Summary: I think you can tell what’s happening 🤭 (again this is strictly all platonic sibling love)
——-
Peter didn’t care much for wearing suits. They made his wrists itch and they never seemed to fit him right. Whenever he slapped one on for a dance you would make fun of him and loosen his tie whenever he wasn’t looking.
He didn’t really like the color yellow either. Especially on flowers. He liked the classy red.
But you had liked yellow. And you liked making fun of his suit.
So here he was, a suit not fitting him right with a little yellow flower pinned to it.
The funeral had ended nearly two hours ago but he couldn’t bring himself to change out of it.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be.
You were just here.
You’d just been squishing yourself between him and Gwen on the couch.
He’d just been helping you study for your science test.
You’d just been waking him up for Christmas morning by jumping on his bed.
He’d just been helping you learn to skateboard, pretending to let go so he could catch you at the last second.
You’d just opened your eyes, seeing him for the first time in your entire life.
And now there was nothing more.
Would it have been different if he had told you who he was?
Would it be different if he didn’t push himself away?
You’d died maybe an hour or so after Peter found you.
The police and ambulances could do nothing.
Peter could do nothing.
Making that phone call from the hospital was the worst thing he’d ever had to do. He told May he found you and she’d been so relieved until… until he had to say the rest.
May broke down faster than she could try to pull the two of them together.
Gwen had been a source of comfort, helping him pack up your things and keeping him from tearing flash apart. She’d been there with him every step of the way. She was there to drive home with him and study to get his mind off things. She was there to support May and him. Things almost seemed to get better when they became official
Then, In the blink of an eye, Gwen was gone as well.
The same way in fact.
She was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be and fell.
She fell before he could catch her.
He hadn’t been careful enough.
He almost considered dropping Spider-Man completely.
He lost three people he loved because of him.
But he didn’t.
Spider-Man was your hero, right?
It was about time he acted like it.
For you.
If he couldn’t be there for you when you were alive he could be there for you when you were gone.
Months went by.
He still couldn’t believe you were gone.
Years went by.
It didn’t seem right that you were dead.
After a while of staring at your empty room he began to accept it.
————
The lights were too bright.
Cars honking.
People talking, arguing, and laughing.
Your head was pounding.
And you felt as if you couldn’t breathe.
“Is she ok?” You heard a little boy ask softly.
“Don’t get too close, hon. I’ll call the police. It looks like there’s blood.”
“Does she need help?”
You gasped and sat up quickly, finding your breath. It came in shallow pants but you found it nonetheless.
The people talking backed away and you jumped.
A woman and a boy.
A boy your age.
How long had they been there?
The woman’s eyes were wide but she maintained her composure as she spoke into the phone. “Honey, are you hurt?”
You felt like the answer should be yes. But when you checked your side frantically there was nothing but a pale scar.
How did that get there?
And the blood… whose was that.
There were blood handprints along your shoulders.
And blood across your cheek.
You could feel it.
How did they get there?
“Do you know what your name is?” She asked instead.
You were shocked back into reality with that question.
The boy stared at you with wide eyes, curly hair catching snowflakes in it before they could hit his face.
It shouldn’t be cold.
But… why shouldn’t it.
You couldn’t get the words out. You knew it but… everything felt so wrong. “Where am I?”
“You’re in an alley in New York, sweet heart.” The woman knelt down so she was at eye level. “The police are coming. Don’t be alarmed, ok? They’re going to get you home.”
You felt like crying.
Where was that?
Where was anything?
Nothing seemed right.
The woman stood up again and spoke into the phone. “Yes, she seems very confused and scared. I don’t know if that blood is hers-..”
You turned back to the boy as he approached. “You’re gonna be ok.” He gave you a small smile. “My name is Peter.”
————-
The heart monitors bothered you.
As did them taking blood from you.
And the questions.
There were so many questions you couldn’t answer.
“Where do you live?”
“Did someone hurt you?”
“What are your parents names?”
“What is the last thing you remember?”
The answer was always that you didn’t know.
The hospital room was too white.
The woman talked with the doctors outside of the room. You didn’t know how you heard them but you did.
Amnesia.
Memory loss.
But you felt it all right in the back of your head.
It was all there.
The heart monitor continued beeping.
Louder.
Louder.
A web shot out at it and covered the speaker, silencing it effectively.
You nearly fell out of your bed.
That.
That came from you.
That’s right.
You could do that now couldn’t you.
You didn’t know why.
It didn’t seem like you’d had it long either.
Well maybe you did and you just didn’t remember that.
A soft gasp.
The curly haired boy, Peter, saw it.
And he didn’t say anything, even though he looked at the woman to see if she’d seen it as well.
—————
One year later
“Peter!” You shouted, running down the stairs. “We’re gonna be late! Get up!”
Everything was a mess.
May couldn’t drive the two of you as she was already at work. Peter was still sleeping and neither of you had breakfast. And to make things worse, your first class started in fifteen minutes.
Great.
“Peter!” You shouted louder. “The girl from the debate team is here!”
A crash resounded from upstairs, followed by loud footsteps. “SHE IS?!”
He shot down the stairs in an instant, hello kitty pajamas barely replaced with actually day clothes.
“No she doesn’t even know your name.” You responded with an eye roll. “You literally met her just three weeks ago.” You pushed him in the direction of the kitchen. “Grab an apple or something! We need to go!”
He glared but did so anyway. “Relax we got time.”
“I’m just gonna leave without you.”
You reached for the doorknob and he turned, a string of webbing heading straight for you to stop the door.
It missed and hit the wall.
“You’re getting better.” You snorted. “I guess.”
“Shut up!” He shouted as he snatched up an apple for each of you. “And you forgot your bag!” He attempted to rush past you, opening the door.
You shot a web at his back, effectively keeping him from beating you out the door. “So did you, dunce!”
You grabbed both the bags and shot out the door before he could.
“I know you’re better at it.” He rolled his eyes. “No need to brag.”
“Yeah well I’m not going around pretending to be some hero every night either.”
“You could.” He cut in quickly. “C’mon! I could use a side kick.”
You blocked him from elbowing your side. “Pete, you know I don’t like heights. That is NEVER going to happen.”
“Why do you hate them so much?”
“I don’t know!” You groaned as you walked down the stairs. “Besides I wouldn’t be caught dead with that suit you made. I’ve seen better.”
“I doubt it. I’m the only Spider-Man this city has
So therefore I’m the best.” He stated playfully.
You stopped for a second.
That’s right.
He was the only Spider-Man.
He paused as well, noticing you weren’t in step with him anymore. “Is your memory acting up again?”
You shook it off and nodded, passing him his backpack. “Yeah. I don’t know. It’s been a year and I still can’t call back anything.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’d go running back the moment you remembered and forget about your old foster brother.” He sighed dramatically. “Forget about May and I for a change, huh? And Ned?”
You snorted and shoved his shoulder as the two of you exited the building. “You? Eh I’d give it about a week. But I just met Ned so who knows.”
You’d met Ned about a month after you’d been taken in by the Parkers. He was nice enough. Both of you seemed wary. He probably thought you’d take his best friend spot. You were simply paranoid.
Peter flicked your shoulder. “So if your family finally called and asked for you back you wouldn’t run for them like headless chicken?”
“I would in a heartbeat.” You stuck your tongue out.
It was nice having a friend your age. It felt like such a nice difference.
…well you didn’t really know what it was different from.
You just knew it was better than you thought it would be.
You were skittish when you first got there.
May had been as well.
But eventually you’d settled in.
“I do miss it though.” You sighed. “Knowing everything.”
He sighed as well. “Yeah. I miss being an only child.”
You gasped at this and made to hit him. He dodge quickly and dashed for the school coming into view. “Come on we’re gonna be late!”
————
“Peter I don’t know how to say this but your aim is terrible.”
Peter shot another web at the target on the roof but once again it fell short.
“I’m not good at this, ok? I thrive on the adrenaline not you shouting at me!” He glared up at where you were casually sticking to the wall, observing your nails. “How did you get so good at it?”
“Observing Spider-Man.” You answered confidently.
“Ha. You’re funny.” Peter groaned.
You paused.
That hadn’t been a joke had it.
“Yep. Im funny.” Was all you could offer. You cleared your throat and straightened up. “Really though, I’ve had it for a while. You just got it like, what, last month?”
He sat down, clearly frustrated. “You’d be better than me at this.”
You dropped from the wall and sat down next to him. “No. I couldn’t do that. Not like you.”
“Why not.” He challenged. “What’s stopping you?” He glared at the target.
You didn’t really know so you shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right.”
———-
Movie nights.
Raiding the fridge.
Complicated legos structures were built with Ned.
You were incorporated into their hand shake.
Spa nights with May.
Star Wars nights with Peter.
Study time for the debate team.
Band.
Freshman year was almost over.
Then the avengers.
They came and took Peter for a week and you were left covering for him.
He came back, bruised and more talkative than ever.
He got an upgrade and he got better at being Spider-Man
Another year went by.
Sophomore year.
Silently judging the debate girl that you knew wouldn’t be good for your brother.
Burning meatloaf with aunt May.
Talking to MJ.
Helping Peter and Ned track the vulture.
Watching the airplane Peter was on explode into the ground.
Worrying about Peter more and more.
It was probably time you joined him.
————
“You’re putting on the mask??!!” He nearly jumped with excitement. “Are you kidding? This is amazing!” He wrapped you in the strongest hug he could muster. Stronger than he’d give anyone but you. You were the only one who could handle it.
“There won’t be any jumping off buildings, ok?” You stated. “None of that. But you need help and I worry.”
He set you down excitedly. “Got it. Got it yeah. Ned is gonna be so excited when he hears this!”
———-
Junior year.
Helping Peter.
Watch the media scrambling over this new hero.
Running into one building and never being able to live it down.
Watching Peter drool over MJ.
Why was that so familiar.
School trip to Europe.
Mysterio.
Sensing something off.
Fighting with Peter.
You didn’t trust him.
Helping him, MJ, and Ned piece it all together.
Protecting Peter from the train.
Barely accepting his profuse apologies.
Helping him design a new suit.
May finding out.
MJ finally dating Peter.
——-
Life was great until senior year hit.
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angry-geese · 3 years
Text
Nanami Kento x Reader
Warnings: nsfw. Fingering, tender sex, morning sex, praise kink (sort of), unprotected sex/breeding kink, mention of pregnancy (its like one sentence). Established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut. Afab reader.
Notes: domsetic fluff turned morning sex
Days where you wake up in his arms are rather rare.
Usually, he's ready for work by the time you get up. His day starts earlier than yours. You still make it a point to give him a kiss before he leaves. He'd often have something for breakfast ready, and make you lunch if he had the time. Nanami was always a better cook- you were a bit of a terror in the kitchen. When he arrived home he'd tell you little about his work. You knew of it, although he had little to say. He only actively spoke of it if he had overtime, and only to complain.
That didn't mean you weren't curious. There were a million questions you had for him; if he answered one, it would only add to the growing pile of other ones.
Married life wasn't what you expected.
It took a year to convince him to date you. Prior to that, the two of you had been roommates for nearly the same time. Over time you had gotten used to having him around. He was the one constant in life. People came and went, jobs you started and quit, but he was always there.
Things weren't all that different from the way they were before. Switching to married life felt natural. So much so that it was a bit frightening. It makes you wonder if this is all there is to it. If that's the case, then you could live with it.
You're not quite sure what wakes you up, but you're surprised to feel his body still beside you. Early morning light streams in through the cracks in the curtains. His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. The faint scent of his cologne—something woody mixed with something sweet, like vanilla—still hangs onto him. Uncertain if he's still awake, you call out his name. To no response.
Slowly his hand creeps up your thigh, resting on your stomach for a moment before he's pressing his thumb under the waistband of your shorts. Nanami's touches are feather-light as his fingers just barely ghost over your skin. The soft feeling of his thumb grazing your clit makes you jump. He smooths a hand over your hair, cooing words of praise as he leans forward to nip at your ear. Goosebumps raise along your shoulder.
Nanami presses a quick kiss to your neck, going back to suck a dark mark into the skin. It'll be hard to cover up tomorrow. Gently he drags his thumb across your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. You part your legs just a bit to give him more room. He shoves down your shorts—along with your panties—baring your sex. You lift your hips for just a moment to kick them off, throwing them to the side. Your shirt quickly goes the same way. Then his. Nanami pulls you in for a quick kiss, nibbling at your bottom lip until you let his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of the slick muscle is intoxicating. You're already half drunk off the scent of his cologne.
He knows just how to make you melt under his touch. He has a way of pressing your buttons, leaving you crawling back for more. Part of you is embarrassed at how quickly you turn to putty in his hands.
When he pulls away, there's an audible pop! as your lips part. He leans back down to kiss you again. It's only a peck this time, but the same amount of fire is behind it.
A low laugh escapes him when he feels the slick that's collected between your legs. In any other circumstance you'd be a bit embarrassed at how quickly he riles you up. He hooks his arm under your knee, forcing your legs further apart. His thumb brushes over your clit, working in soft, teasing motions. When you try to grind down onto his hand, he simply huffs and pulls his hand away, leaving you aching with need.
"Ken, please-"
"Please what?" He asks. "Use your words..."
"Fuck me!"
To that, he cruelly laughs. The noise comes from low in his chest. You're almost ashamed at the throb it sends right to your cunt. Almost.
He mutters a soft "good" as he eyes you up and down, sizing you up like you're some sort of opponent.
He works you open with his fingers. Just the one at first—then adding a second—rubbing against your g-spot. His fingers are thin, but long, and know just where to prod in a way that makes you whimper. Your eyes roll back when he strokes a particularly sensitive spot. Nanami takes notice of this, and proceeds to add a third. His thumb rubs small circles against your clit. A familiar heat pools low in your stomach. His touches only make you more needy. When your pussy clamps around his fingers—you're close to your own release—he realizes his own need, pressing against your back. Grinding against your thigh only does so much.
Typically he isn't the type to tease. It makes you wonder what's gotten him so worked up.
He pinches your clit between two of his fingers before resuming their circles. His movements are skilled—he's had practice—making you melt under his touch. The wetness that collects between your thighs nearly drips down his hand, making it glisten in the low light.
He finds the squeal you make when you cum endearing, using the moment to kiss you, right on the corner of your lips.
You ride out your orgasm on his hand; shaky, but nearly ready for another round. It won't take you long- he's seen it happen before. Soon you're sitting up, facing him, your cheeks red and your lips bitten pink. He commits the look of your flushed form to memory.
He'd have to tease you more often.
Nanami palms himself through his boxers. He frees his leaking cock. The head is a ruddy color, and rather angry looking, swollen with need. His spare hand moves to knead the soft flesh of your breasts, working your nipples into stiff peaks. He guides your hand to his cock, closing your fist around his member. It's long—a little over six inches—but not too thick. The weight of it is heavy in your hands. You give him a few teasing pumps, making sure your touches are achingly slow. Instantly he notices, giving one of your nipples a harsh pinch, though not hard enough to hurt. When you squeak and mumble a weak: "I'm sorry" he only nips at your ear and chuckles. Any attempt you make to regain control of the situation only digs your grave deeper.
"Are you going to be good?" His lips press against your temple.
Weakly you nod.
"Good." He coos. "You're always so good for me."
He shifts so you're left lying on your stomach underneath him, hips lifted slightly and pulled flush to his. Your body is tacky with sweat—maybe a bit of saliva too—he drags you in closer. Nanami leans forward to mumble into your ear. Sometime during this his teeth find your shoulder, your flesh sporting a crescent shaped mark to show. You're not quite sure if it'll bruise. Probably.
"Had to work overtime." He says, the slightest bit of venom in his tone. "Again. Not happy."
At this you let out a small giggle. That's the second time this week. That must be why he came home so late last night. He never tried to hide his dislike for it. Instead of chatting with you, he simply went to bed.
The head of his cock presses against your entrance, slick with his own need. There's no resistance as he presses right into you, although he still gives you a moment to adjust. Nanami fits right in you, your pussy so tight and warm around him. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to how good you feel. He's had his fair share of partners, but they all pale in comparison to you.
His large hands knead at the flesh of your ass and thighs. He's always admired how soft you are; the curve of your breasts, your stomach, your hips. Even the harsh angles of your face, the way it twists and contorts in pleasure. To him, you were truly the most beautiful thing in existence. There's not much he wouldn't do for you.
He's always preferred to fuck you slow and deep. He could watch you squirm and writhe under him for hours if you'd let him. Nanami has never been one for quickies. Sometimes they're nice, but he always prefers to take his time with you.
Slowly he rolls his hips against yours. You inhale sharply, gripping at the sheets. His pace starts out a bit slow, but he leaves none of your sweet spots untouched.
The second you start to get a bit loud he pulls out, making you whine in frustration.
"Needy today, aren't we, love?"
You grovel at the pet name, hardly amused. "Just touch me dammit."
Nanami's relatively collected demeanor falters when you clench around him, pulling him back in. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails leaving little crescent-shaped indents in your skin.
"Oh fuck-" his thrusts grow erratic, "fuck! I love you I love you I-"
"I love you too!"
His fingers lace with yours. Momentarily he brings your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. The action is so slow and soft you're not quite sure if you feel it.
"I'm so happy I married you."
His free hand goes back to toying with your clit, harshly pinching the bud between two fingers before tracing circles around it. The movements are a bit erratic. He must be close. To stifle a groan, he leans forward, sinking his teeth into the junction of flesh where your shoulder and neck meet. Not hard enough to hurt, although it may leave a bruise. Some possessive feeling deep within him made him proud of the marks he left.
It's enough to send you over the edge. The dam has broken, the floodgates have opened. You cum around him hard, your entire body shuddering as you cry out. The neighbors certainly can hear. Noise complaints happen a bit too often for your liking. He groans as his own release paints your walls white. You feel so full.
Nanami pulls out slowly as to not spill any of his cum, taking a moment to admire his work, and the look of your fucked-out form; the red handprints on your ass, the nail marks in your soft flesh, the way your neck and chest blush along with your face. It makes him wonder how you'd look with your belly swollen with his child.
He'd have to do this more often.
Dramatically you flop down on the bed, chest heaving. A single drop of cum spills onto the sheets. He lays down beside you, taking a moment to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You'd be sore tomorrow. Your neck already sports red teeth marks, and half-faded hickeys. He presses a kiss to the mark, rather proud of his work. His arms snake around your body, holding you close to him.
Nanami has never been this much in love.
You're half asleep when he pulls away. It's almost time for him to head to work. Gojo needs his help with something, he's not quite sure what.
Gojo can wait.
He's tucking himself back into his boxers and getting out of bed by the time you turn around. If he notices you staring, he says nothing about it.
"Where are you going?" You ask.
"I'm making breakfast."
640 notes · View notes
roscgcld · 3 years
Text
RYOMEN SUKUNA || we will meet again
anime: jujutsu kaisen
characters: ryomen sukuna
pronouns: she/her
proof read: N/A
"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."
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Back in the day, when Jujutsu Sorcerers were at their prime, lived a Cursed Spirit who goes by the name Sukuna. Once a human Sorcerer himself, he had somehow managed to create himself into the Jujutsu world's most feared Cursed Spirit. He was dubbed 'the King of Curses' and rained terror over the human and jujutsu world; with super natural powers and a sadistic personality to match the title. Everyone who has crossed him shook in absolute fear.
That was, of course, before he met a particular princess.
She was a beautiful woman; the daughter of one of the then king’s favourite concubines. Born with the alluring beauty of her mother, and a heart of gold, it was hard to ignore her presence when she walked into a room. 
She was brought up in the palace, where she was given the title as princess; but she will never sit on the throne of the kingdom her father rules over. As only the King’s wife is allowed to bear the heir that will sit on the throne. She didn’t mind, she had never desired such power to begin with. Even if she was going to be married off to one of the many foreign princes asking for her hand in marriage, she didn’t care about titles. 
Since she was never destined to sit on the throne, her father had given her quite the freedom to do as she pleases. With all her free time, she tends to use it connect to the people of her kingdom; helping the needy during their time of need, always purchasing things from the local vendors and merchants that have travelled long and far. She is beloved by the people, and shines a light on the royal family that makes them more human instead of the godly image that is projected onto the royal family.
Anyone who meets her would fall in love for her - and apparently not even Cursed Spirits were the exception.
The princess have always love spending her time out in nature - horse back riding with a few of the guards in training, swimming in the river that her brothers love to hunt by, learning about the different plants and herbs from the doctors that go out foraging for medical herbs. So it came to the surprise to no one when Sukuna stumbled onto the princess by accident on the riverbed.
Sukuna had not expected to see any human about as he goes about his walk deep in the woods. It was one of those rare moments to himself where he does not necessarily have anything he needed to do on hand, and also the few rare moments where he does not have a mob of sorcerers up his ass. He was just enjoying the sounds of nature and the soft wind blowing against his kimono when he heard what sounded like a human's laughter coming from the river near by. At first he was curious, since no human usually ventures this deeply into the woods. At the same time, he had wanted to ignore it, since humans are just a pain in the ass to deal with even if they can't see you. However, there was something so alluring about that soft giggle that had him wanting to see just who this annoying brat was. So, without even him realising what was happening, his feet quietly walked towards the river and before he knew it, he had pushed the last branch aside to peek over at the river bed curiously. Sitting before him on a flat rock by the river was a woman with flowing hair, her small feet dipped into the running water below as her hands reached forward to play with a few of the fishes that swam by. The pink fabric of her furisode laid behind her like a pink halo, showcasing the intricate sakura trees and flowers that were sown into the fabric. The aura around her was relaxed and peaceful, and somehow just seeing her brings him a sense of peace. As if she could sense his stare, the woman suddenly pauses before she turns to look over her shoulder curiously; bright and seemingly glowing eyes meeting his red ones head on. Sukusa felt the world around him come to a stop as the eyes of the princess before him trapped him on the spot, causing him to loose all train of thought from before. "Oh - were you wanting to sit here too?"
"Huh?"
The casual way she just asked him that question definitely threw him off. The woman actually just lets out a soft laugh at his dry answer. "It's alright - we can share the space if you don't mind." She commented, a teasing tone taking over her voice as she patted the free spot beside her. "I promise I don't bite."
If she had known just who this man was, she might actually understand how ironic her sentence was. But Sukuna decided not to comment on it as he quietly makes his way towards her, sitting down at the spot beside the princess whose eyes had already returned to the river before her. "The water feels extra nice today. And there is more fishes then usual." She conversed with the man casually, causing Sukuna to wonder if she is pretending to be as dense as she is right now. "How are you so calm right now? I mean, do you see a 10ft tall human with four arms every day or what? Your reaction is sort of dull." 
The princess pauses in thought as she thinks, looking far too relaxed by his side. "I have always been able to see...odd things." She started off with a soft hum, glancing over at the man beside her with a soft smile. "I have asked people around me before, and after realising that I am the only one who can see them, I decided to ignore them." She admitted, running her dry hand through her hair softly. "But if I am being honest, this is the first time one has actually ever spoken to me."
"Well, I'm not the everyday curses." He said with a slightly proud tune in his voice, to which the princess beside him looks up at the taller man with interest. "Every day curses are small things, I am basically what people in my world call a Special Grade Curse." He continued, and for some reason, when he saw how her eyes were staring up at in him awe, he looked away with a light blush on his face. He doesn't even know what was about her that drags out these human-like emotions from him - he had never felt like this ever before.
"Special Grade Curse?" She echoes back with curiosity, to which the man beside her just nods softly as he leans back to rest on the free arms, the other two crossed across his chest. Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes shining so brightly with excitement that it caused Sukuna to squint a little. "Can you explain just what you are to me a little more?"
One question was all it took to have Sukuna falling, and if he was being honest - he actually didn’t mind spending so much time on this little human. From sharing stolen nights in her bedroom in the royal palace, to sneaking out to just go to the riverbed where the met for the first time; they even spent time just wandering about his domain. It was actually during these small explorations of the world around them that created a special bond between the two.
For her, he was her escape from the restrictive and repetitive routine of royal life. For him, she was his utopia, a person he can turn to whenever he feels like just killing everyone around him. Soon though, these emotions sprouted into something deeper and more personal. It was jarring at first, falling for a human - but he knows that she was worth it all.
He remembers the way her eyes shone brightly with a constant look of innocence in them, yet she is mature and realistic enough to know that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. He remembers the way she carries herself, her warm and loving smile, how content he felt whenever she wrapped her arms around him. He loves the feeing of her soft hair that tumbles around her face in soft waves, how it feels like silk whenever he runs his fingers through them. How with just one glance, she can fill the void in his heart that he didn't know existed.
Yet they were never set to happy ending to begin with.
It was during just what started off like a normal day when the town the princess was in was suddenly invaded by a rival kingdom’s army. Their goal was to conquer and take over the kingdom with any means necessarily; meaning that the royal family had to go.
Uraume had entered his hideout, panting with wide eyes as they told Sukuna of the town now plunging into chaos. Within seconds the Cursed Spirit was up and sprinting towards the royal palace, great fear and anger gripping him from within. Entering through the destroyed doors of the grand palace, he ignored the screams of anguish of the others around him as he ran straight towards one of the buildings - the building where the royal sleeping chambers were located.
When he finally found her room, he felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest at the sight before him.
The once beautifully crafted shoji doors with panels decorated in a beautiful forest scene now laid in tatters, the furniture inside looking as if though a huge scuffle had happened. Rushing deeper into the room, he felt his heart sank to its stomach when he saw the splatters of blood leading towards the small room where the princess would sleep in.
Entering the back room, his red eyes scanned over the many splatters of blood about the room, the red handprints of the princess smeared across the ornate walls whilst the body of the princess laid on her futon; the sheets now soaked in blood. "No, no, no.." Sukuna managed out in horror as he quickly made his way to his lover's side, pulling her bloodied body into his arms immediately. "Flower, open your eyes. Please.."
Slowly her eyelids begin to move, and Sukuna felt his heart break when he saw how her now dull and tired eyes shifted to look up at him, taking a moment to truly process just who he was. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna mumbles out through a small voice as he pulls her closer, trying his hardest to press his hands against the gashing wound on her abdomen. Since the wound was inflicted by a non-sorcerer, there was no trace of cursed magic on her; meaning that there was no way he can save her to begin with. "I-If only I had known..."
"Shh...it's okay.." The princess whispered out in a soft but pained tone, her bloody hand reaching up to cup his tattoo cheek ever so softly. The familiar touch brought another wave of emotion through Sukuna as he tries to blink back his tears, pulling her closer to his chest as he shifted his posture so she was sitting in his lap. He barely even acknowledge his own kimono that was slowly being soaked in blood. "Y-You didn't know this was going to happen...no one did...don't blame yourself..."
With watery red eyes Sukuna marvelled at how even though she was on death's doorstep, she still tried to put on a smile for his sake. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna manages through a pained tone, tears now sliding down his face in thick streams whilst the woman just gave him a loving smile, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't be.." She mumbles softly, forcing the man to look down at her as she gave him the same smile that had him falling for her from the beginning. "You know that...it takes more than this to get rid of me.."
The teasing words caused Sukuna to let out a soft and pained laugh, remembering the times where he would tell her how annoying she was whenever she would cling onto him and tease him relentlessly. He would trade anything to go back to those moments once more. "Brat.." He manages through his silent sobs, to which the woman just lets out a soft laugh as her fingers slowly traced along his features. For a few moments it was just silence, but the next time she spoke, Sukuna knew that the end was coming.
"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."
"I promise, my love." Sukuna mumbles back quietly, resting his forehead against hers when he noticed how much effort it takes for her to blink. "No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you." He told her firmly as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead. "No matter how long it takes.." She echoes quietly, to which Sukuna just press a loving kiss on her head just as he felt her soft hand slowly slide down his chest, falling limply on her side.
For a moment Sukuna just held her against him, quietly crying into her hair. His entire world was in his arms, and just like that she was taken away from him. From that sadness came anger, and he soon found himself with the deep desire to crush whoever took her away from him.
Thus started the true rein of terror under the King of Curses, his anger fueling him to chase for bigger goals. Whilst he strive to rid of this world of dirty humans who took his flower away from her, he kept the vow that they promised one another - that they will wait for the other no matter how long it takes.
Because he had promised you so, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.
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© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform
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goldencherryhazz · 3 years
Text
Work from home
A/N: first smut piece, let me know your thoughts, pls don’t copy my work, feedback and notes would be much appreciated!probably some mistakes 🤍
daddy!harry x sub!reader
Warnings: smut, daddy kink, oral, spanking, fluff. Pure filth basically.
WC: 3k
Harry hated leaving y/n, just so that he could endure countless meetings on zoom with his team, producers and whatnot when he could be spending time with his girl, after having to spending so long away from each other whilst he was on tour, but he knew it had to be done due to the ongoing pandemic, and the world basically coming to a halt. He loved his job and his fans, so he was going to do anything he could remotely, to try and bring some normalcy to this whirlwind.
Now Harry was a hard working man, and once he was in the zone, he didn’t liked to be interrupted until he was finished. He had left a kiss to her head when he left to go to his office a mere 2 hours ago which made her stir from her slumber. She wanted more, and had fallen back to sleep with the thought of being stuffed with his cock, leaving her to wake up again with the feeling of emptiness and need.
She tried to snap out of it, but doing that didn’t stop her from falling into subspace, she genuinely tried to get herself off, to satisfy herself, she started by lifting he shirt up, hissing as the chilly air came into contact with her nipples, hardening them, she pinched each one, twiddling them between her forefinger and thumb, before venturing lower down her stomach, tracing her hands over it until she touched the band of her sleep shorts, she wasted no time it taking them off and flinging them over the side of the bed, she then touched over her damp pussy, starting to rub light circles onto her clit, getting even wetter at the thought of Harry teasing her little cunt then fucking her into oblivion, she then teased two fingers over her entrance before pushing them in and curving them so that they hit her sweet spot, pushing them in and out, but getting no closer to cumming, she eventually gave up after about 5 minutes, and then made a decision, which led her to where she is now...
Stood outside Harry’s office, clad in one of her best sets of lingerie, that she knew Harry loved, as a lure to try and convince him, she took in a nervous breath, she hoped that he wouldn’t decline her, she couldn’t wait any longer. Y/n was willing to do anything in order to be able to have Harry make her cum, she just wanted the tingling sensation in he clit to be dealt with.
She knocked twice, opening the door as soon as she heard a gruff ‘come in` , she took two steps into the room, shutting the door behind her, before waiting patiently for Harry to stop typing and look up at her.
‘What the fuck are you wearing darling` he uttered already knowing the already obvious answer.
She took in the way he looked her up and down, almost hungrily, he was trying not to just give in to her which was quite impossible most of the time, he could feel his cock stirring in the loose fabric of his sweats, but he knew that she knew that he didn’t like to be disturbed whilst he was working, if she wanted him that badly, he was going to make her work for it.
‘Really need you daddy' she said without hesitation.
‘Aww baby, you feeling subby today` he cooed.
‘Yeah, tried to make myself cum, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same as you, my clits tingling daddy’
‘Well unfortunately for you daddy’s working, how bad do you need me baby, tell me’ he questioned, resting his head on the palm of his hand.
‘Need you to fuck me daddy, need to feel you inside me, I want you to choke me, be a little rough with me, I’m just feeling really empty` she choked out, her eyes glazing over in frustration.
The sudden sound of an incoming zoom call made its way through the room, he looked at her dead in the eyes ‘I’ve got an idea baby, how about you get yourself off on the corner of my desk, you’ve got to be quiet though, don’t want anyone to knowing what my naughty girls doing, and no cumming, you understand baby?’
‘Yes daddy` she said, walking over to his desk, her knees slightly weak.
He answered the call, greeted his team, trying not to get distracted by y/n as she hovered over the corner of his desk, before bending her knees slightly, her clothed clit coming into contact with the cold surface of the wood, making her hiss quietly, she braced both of her hands on the desk, before starting to slide her pussy back and forth, creating a delicious friction that she couldn’t get enough of.
Harry managed to focus on the meeting for the majority of it, flicking his eyes back to her every so often, watching as she traced he dainty fingers over her bare tummy, toying with her breast, he could feel himself getting harder and harder under his desk, to the point where he could feel his cock throbbing, y/n had managed to get through the call without making too much noise, only received a few warning glares when she moaned a little to loudly when she could feel herself on the brink of a release, knowing that she couldn’t cum, it was torture basically, the mixture of friction, Harry’s voice and knowing that he would probably he rock hard by now, but she knew that it would be worth it if she kept it up for a bit longer.
A little while later Harry was uttering goodbye’s to his team, sighing in relief as he practically slammed his computer shut, y/n was lost in pleasure , soo much that she hadn’t taken any notice that Harry had finished his call. He palmed himself to try and releave some of the building pressure in his cock, he knew that he would give into her eventually, but he was going to mess with her a little more before that.
‘Baby, come over here` she obeying like a little puppy, instantly walking towards him, becoming giddy at the thought that she might finally be getting what she wanted, more like needed.
Harry patted his thighs, signaling for her to straddle him, he could see that her panties were practically soaked through as she sat directly on his cock, making him hiss, she placed her hands on his shoulders, before Harry placed his hand on the back of her head, bringing her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing, thier tongues dancing with each other, the desperation making them both impossibly hornier.
Harry broke away from this kiss first, both of them gasping for air, she ran her thumb over the smooth skin of his jawline, his ringless fingers grasping at her hips.
‘Are you going to fuck me now daddy` she says out of the blue, really wanting the ache in her pussy to be dealt with.
Oh darling, didn’t think I forgot that you interrupted me whilst I was working did you, moaning whilst I was talking to my team, my friends, they could have heard you, ya know, you know daddy doesn’t like to share, dont you baby, think I need to teach you a lesson first.’
‘But I was a good girl daddy` she whimpered
‘Yes you were, still doesn’t excuse you from interrupting me though.’
She huffed ‘no baby, don’t get all huffy and puffy with me, you decided to walk into my office in your bra and panties whilst I was working, could’ve waited you know, and if you did I would be fucking you right now, but we’re here, so baby, how about you get my rings out and put them on for me, think someone deserves a spanking.
She slowly turned in his lap, reaching into the second draw in his desk to retrieve his rings, shakily placing them on thier own designated finger.
‘How many spanks do you think you should get today doll’
‘4’ she said hopefully.
‘Only four baby, best make it five then, an extra one for good look, ey.’
She rolled her eyes which Harry caught, ‘I can make it 6 if you want baby` he said gripping her chin lightly.
‘No, I’m sorry daddy’ she whimpered
‘You better be, you’re lucky that I’m even considering letting you have my cock today’
Y/n knew she had to tred carefully now, so she stood up and faced away from him, before bending over his desk, bracing herself, and willing to take whatever Harry had to offer. She secretly loved when Harry spanked her, the feeling of his hand crashing down onto her ass, his cold rings making little indents on her skin, the dominance he had over her as he marked her, she loved it and Harry did too.
Harry had stood up at this point ‘are you ready doll, want you to count each one for me.
‘Okay dad-fuck, daddy’ she squealed in surprise as his hand came crashing down, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room, his hand running over the supple flesh.
‘One’ she whimpered
*slap*
‘Two’
*slap*
‘Three’
‘Doing so good baby, only a couple more’ he smirked loving the control he had over her.
*slap*
‘Four’
*slap*
‘Five’ she cried, small tears in her eyes from the intensity, Harry marvelled over his work, as he could see what looked like two red handprints over both her ass cheeks, he smoothed over the skin lightly not wanting to cause her any more pain.
‘You okay baby’ he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t actually hurt her, they had already made a safe word, but he would never forgive himself if he hurt his girl.
‘Yeah, I’m okay daddy’ she sniffled slightly.
‘Think you deserve my cock now baby, took that soo well, such a good little slut for daddy aren’t you, went through all of that, just so you could get my cock.’
‘Oh I’d do anything for your cock daddy’ she says making him go wild, he instantly gripped her shoulder, making her stand up straight, before turning he around to bring her in for another heated kiss. ‘Jump’ he muttered between kisses, to which she obliged, wrapping her legs round his waist and her arms rounds his neck, practically like a koala bear.
He slowly back up to the desk again carefully laying her down not breaking the kiss, y/n being quiet relieved as the cool wood soothed her sore ass, Harry pressed himself into her, wanting to feel every inch of her body, she could also feel his hard cock dig into the side of her thigh.
She starts tugging at the end of his t-shirt, hinting for him to take his clothes off in which he happily obeyed, he had opted for no boxers today making the process even quicker, she saw the way his thick length sprang into his bare belly once he had taken his t-shirt and sweats off, throwing them not caring where they landed, the sight made her mouth water, she could see the large head of his cock was a shade of angry red leaking pre-cum, and the large protruding purple vein on the underside of his cock, which she couldn’t wait to feel against her walls.
Harry then wastes no time in ripping her underwear off of her, her juices now coating the inside of her thighs, she looked delicious and Harry could resist having a taste, so he dipped his head down, holding her legs apart, licking a large stripe through her folds which made her buck her hips up into his mouth.
‘Holy fuck’ she moaned, her clit being a little sensitive, but she honestly didn’t care right now.
He continued swirling his tounge around her pussy, dipping into he weepy hole occasionally, making her squirm in his grip, he couldn’t get enough of her sweet taste, he could stay between her legs all day if he could.
‘Feels so good daddy, but I really want your cock’ she whimpered.
‘Yeah, you want my cock baby, you can have my cock’ he finishes with a kiss to her clit, before trailing sloppy kisses up her belly towards the valley of her breasts, reaching one hand beneath her to unhook her bra, in which she arched he back slightly, helping him remove the lacy fabric, once she was completely bare beneath him, he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tounge around the pebbled nub, doing the same to the other. He eventually made his way back to her lips, after leaving multiple hickeys on her collar bones and neck, marking her as his ‘you’re so beautiful darling’
He put his hand on either side of her head, her hands roaming over his beautifully inked arms, tracing over certain tattoos, making a shiver run up his spine, loving the gentleness of her fingers, ‘m’gonna fuck you now baby’ he says lining his cock up with her entrance ‘please, daddy’ she begs, he finally slips into her in one long thrust, making her arch her back and her eyes roll into the back of her head ‘Daddy Fuck..holy shit, you’re so big’ she cried feeling her walls stretch around his cock.
Harry also a groaning mess ‘so tight for me, s’like you were made for me’
He regains his composure before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting sharply into her cunt, starting to set a steady rhythm ‘not gonna last long doll’, her legs wrap around his waist, wanted him to be as close as possible, her hands find home on his back, her grip starting to make tiny red scratches, which he would later be reminded of when he took a shower.
Harry was now fucking her hard and deep, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, the only sound in the room was skin hitting skin, the squelching sound of he pussy as he fucked her, breathy moans, and the occasional ‘daddy fuck yes’. He felt like he could burst with how good he felt, her warm, wet walls completely engulfing him, ‘who does this cunt belong to pet.’
‘You daddy, it’s all yours’ she breathes out, making him moan into her mouth as he kissed her plushy lips, her stomach flipping at the admittance.
‘Fuck baby gonna make me cum, you close, want you to cum with me’ she threw her head back at a particularly deep thrust, the pleasure becoming overwhelming ‘no baby’ he said gripping her chin, making her look at him again ‘want you to look at me when you fall apart, can you don’t that for me’
‘Yes daddy, m’so close, I’m gonna cum round your cock, so hard’ she whimpered
‘Oh baby, fuck’ her words making hit topple over the edge, his thrusts turning sloppy, ‘I’m cumming, cum with me pet. At this command her limbs turned limp, her head spinning, toes curling, screaming ‘daddy’ like it was the only word she knew, she didn’t think she had cum that hard in her life, Harry painting her walls, his release starting to leak out of her weepy hole, he eventually collapsed on top of her, still maintaining eye contact with her, trying to hold his weight up with his hand, so that he wouldn’t squash her. Harry hadn’t stopped thrusting into her to merely ride out thier highs, basking in both of thier releases, her cunt fluttering round his cock, milking it dry, he rested his head on hers, kissing her softly.
She tried pushing him away after a while when here muscles started spasming, in which he instantly stilled inside her, not wanting her to black out or anything. ‘You good baby, did soo well for me’
‘Don’t think I’ve cum that hard in my life’ she whispered hoarsely, her voice sore from screaming.
‘came hard too baby, can’t get enough of your cunt, m’gonna pull out now, hold my hand might sting a little’
She gripped into his hand, he slowly slipped out of her making her whimper at the loss of contact, starting on feel his cum drip down her thighs, Harry groaning at the sight, ‘looks so pretty with my cum dripping out of you’ he said leaving a soft kiss to her clit ‘can you stand baby’
‘cant feel my legs H’ she smirked knowing that this was fuelling his ego, a lazy smile spreading over her face, slowly starting to slip out of her subspace
He chuckled with her, ‘well I was thinkin’, how about we get cleaned up and take a nice hot bath, and then we can put a film on and cuddle.’
‘Mhmmm’ she hummed ‘that’s sounds perfect’
‘Wait, do you still have meetings’
‘No baby, that was the last one’ he smiled
‘Yayyyy’ she cheered her head still slightly fuzzy
He reached his hands out for her to grab so that she could sit up, hissing as all of her weight went onto her still very sore bum, that she would be reminded about for days to come.
‘We’ll get you an ice- pack as well darling’ he smirked
She managed to stand up on very shaky legs, falling into his bare chest, his arms wrapping round her so that she wouldn’t fall, kissing the top of her head ‘are you going to interrupt me whilst I’m working again baby’
‘Oh definitely daddy’ she whispered into his warm chest!
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seongsangi · 3 years
Text
can’t keep my hands to myself
pairing: johnny x reader
summary: a night alone with johnny in his apartment, what do you think happens?
word count: 2.2k
warnings: slight degradation? spanking, choking, sum good ole smutttt
read part 2
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“So, what are we watching?” you ask Johnny, plopping down on the couch beside him. His roommate is out for the night, so Johnny invited you over knowing the long day at work you had. It was nice to wind down with your boyfriend, opening your arms for him to hug you.
“Whatever you wanna watch baby.” Johnny wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can snuggle you. He lifts your legs to lay them across his thighs while tucking his head underneath your chin, his hair tickling your chest. The intimacy is not new to you and you love that about him, how touchy feely he is and how he loves being so close to you, holding you like he never wants to let go. “Can we watch anime? Oooh, can we watch the new episode of Attack on Titan? I’ve been waiting so long!!” Your voice gets high pitched, which he finds so cute seeing you all excited.
During the episode, you wrap your arms around him, caressing his hair and stroking his arm gently. His subtle hands don’t go unnoticed as they gradually move across your warm skin. First, his hands were at your waist, slipping underneath your tank top. Eventually, one of his hands travels along your thigh, the skirt you wore tonight leaving your lower half exposed. He draws slow circles on your bare skin before settling for cupping your ass, pushing your skirt up even further. He takes a deep breath, letting the scent of your perfume fill his senses. “Mmm, you smell good,” he says as he gives your ass a quick squeeze.
“I’m wearing the perfume you got me,” you giggle.
“I wish you weren’t wearing anything at all,” he snuggles his head further into your cleavage, the tank top giving him perfect access to your mounds. You give him a harmless slap on his arm, telling him you want to finish this episode first. “We can still watch, I’ll just be doing my thing.” Before you can ask what thing, he tugs one strap of your shirt and bra down at the same time, swirling your nipple around his tongue. You can’t say you didn’t expect this, Johnny loves to have his mouth on you any way he can. Even during something as simple as watching anime, he can’t resist playing with your tits.
His eyes are paying attention to the TV but his tongue isn’t letting up on your breasts. He’s distracting you from the episode, tickling your sensitive nub. You squirm a little when he bites just hard enough to send pleasure through your body. You tug the other strap down, grabbing his face to bring it towards your neglected mound in a silent plea. He knows you love it, and who is he to say no? He gives the same treatment to your other nipple, watching you close your eyes as you get lost in the simple pleasure. So much for finishing the episode.
His hand pushes your knees apart, finding purchase in between your legs. He smirks against your skin when he feels the arousal on your panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit. His lips detach from your nipple, opting to nip and suck around your breasts. His hot lips trail up your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses to your sweet spots. When you feel like you can’t take it any more, you quickly straddle his hips, resting your hands on his chest. His hands glide over your thighs as you settle your core right over his bulge, moving your hips back and forth slightly.
"You can’t even be patient baby, I was just trying to make you feel good.” He gives you a particularly hard slap on your ass cheek, making your body jolt. He immediately soothes the area, loving the way you grind your hips harder into his. “I know something that will make me feel even better,” you fight back a smirk when you notice Johnny taking in your figure, watching your hips move desperately. He loves the sight of you on top, chest bare and littered with love marks. He lifts your hips slightly, pushing your panties to the side. He slides his fingers across your lips, coating his hand in your arousal. “Damn, didn't know you were this wet. All for me?” You bite your lip at the question, feeling embarrassed at his words. He holds your gaze as he slips two fingers in easily, pumping them in and out of you at a pace that just makes you crave more. He knows how to work your body, teasing you in ways you can’t say no to.
“Let’s go to my room,” he makes a move to get up but you push him back down by his shoulders. “No, right here,” you demand. He cocks an eyebrow at you for your tone, which makes you lean into his face, a breathy “please, I want you so bad” ghosting his ear. He groans as you press soft kisses to his neck, your hard nipples pressing into his chest. “What if Jaehyun comes home?”
“And what if he does?” Honestly, that wouldn’t be something you’re opposed to, core clenching slightly at the thought of it. He feels the shit eating grin on your face as your lips trail his skin, wrapping his hand in your hair and pulling your head up. You squeal, but the grip he has is deliciously painful. “You’re filthy,” but he knows deep down he wouldn’t mind either. Maybe something could be arranged. But right now, he just wants to ruin you.
“Get on your knees,” he lets your hair go, watching as you get into position like the good girl you are for him. He pulls his pants off and you’re met with his impressive length. Johnny gets comfortable on the couch, scooting down and spreading his legs so you can settle better in between them. Your hand reaches out to pump his length, slapping it against your tongue as your hand trails up his shirt, exposing more of his perfect skin. Your fingers feel for his abs as he watches you take him in your mouth. He’s too big for you to take all at once, but you try to take as much as you can. His lips are parted, eyes clouded over with lust at the sight of you with your mouth full of him.
His hands create a makeshift ponytail for you as you get his dick wet, making a mess just the way he likes it. He tells you to look at him as he stills your head, thrusting his hips into your mouth as you brace your hands on his thighs. He doesn’t stop until you’re gagging, tapping his thigh a few times as a signal. You pull away slightly to catch your breath, a trail of spit connecting your lips to his tip. He groans at the sight, tears in your eyes but the way you’re biting your lip tells him you loved every bit of it. He just can’t get enough of you.
“Come up here.” Johnny takes his shirt off as you stand up, grabbing your hips and placing you into position on your stomach over his thigh, your ass poking out of your skirt. His slides his hands slowly up the back of your legs, making you bite your lip in anticipation. “This is such a short skirt baby, you should wear it more often.” He flips your skirt over, grabbing a handful of your cheeks with his large hands. He appreciates the lace for tonight, but it’s in the way of what he really wants. You lift your hips for him to pull your panties down, tossing them aside. He spreads your thighs, sliding his fingers over your slit. You can’t keep your hips still, moving them around to feel more of his fingers. He lands a harsh slap to your ass, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. Johnny loves watching your ass jiggle, giving you a couple more spanks back to back. You cry out, the way it hurts is just too good. You get more and more turned on with each spank, core clenching around nothing, glistening with arousal.
When your ass turns red with handprints, Johnny kneads and massages your cheeks while sliding two fingers into your core at the same time, trying to distract you from the pain. God, he drives you so crazy. He pumps in and out of you so fast, your hips are moving on their own. The sound of your wetness on his fingers fills the room along with your moaning, music to his ears. He enjoys watching you lose yourself, but he stops once he sees you reaching to rub your clit. He pulls his fingers out, telling you to sit up. You do without second thought, eager for him to have his way with you. Your back is to his chest and Johnny has his hand in your hair again, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. He slips his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on him and licking his fingers clean. He loves how innocent you look when you’re doing such sinful things.
He lines himself up with your core but doesn’t slide in. You whimper slightly, hands running up and down his thighs, waiting for him to stop teasing. He lets go of your hair to grab your waist instead, studying your face, eyes pleading for him to do something. He leans down so close that your lips are touching, but he doesn’t kiss you. “You still want it?” He knows you do, he just loves to see you at his mercy. You nod eagerly, burning up with every second that passes by. “Then you’ll fucking get it.”
He inches his way in, leaving your mouth open at the stretch. He lets out a guttural moan, the feeling of your warm walls welcoming him is almost too much. You clench around him, knowing it feels good for him. His hands run up your chest, wrapping an arm around your front to keep you close as he fucks you. You love this angle because it makes you see stars, his dick reaching so deep in you. “Tell me how it feels princess,” you can barely hear his voice. All you can manage is a string of curses, which tells him all he needs to know.
“Look at you, can’t even talk. This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?” He reaches down to rub circles over your clit, sending you into overdrive. His tip hits that sweet spot with every thrust and his fingers send waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “Oh fuck, Johnny,” you moan wantonly, core clenching at how close you are. “Yeah baby, you love it, huh?”
“Yes, yes, I love it, I love it when you fuck me.”
At that moment, Johnny’s phone rings. “Oh shit, it’s Jaehyun.”
“Answer it, what if he needs something?” He reaches for his phone, slowing his thrusts down but still sliding deep in you.
“What’s up, bro?” Johnny asks.
“So I know you’re with Y/N right now, but my date bailed on me and I needed someone to talk to. Are you busy?” Johnny almost scoffs, he’s currently balls deep in you, of course he’s busy.
“Umm, give me like five minutes. Are you on the way back?” Johnny rubs your clit even faster, earning a drawn out moan from you. He shoots you a glare, but the cheeky smile you boast while biting your lips tells him you did it on purpose.
“I’m actually already back but I’m glad I didn’t walk in now.”
“Yeah, don’t. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.” Johnny sets his phone down, bringing his attention back to you. His hips immediately pick up the pace again, back where he left off without missing a beat, making you scream his name over and over. He slides his hand up your front, grabbing your throat to cut off your airway just enough to make your mind hazy. He whispers praises in your ear, telling him how good your pussy is, how he loves when you moan his name, how he loves wrecking you like the slut you are. Before you know it, you cum with a loud cry, legs shaking underneath you. If it weren’t for Johnny’s grip on your neck, you’re sure you would have fallen over.
“Baby girl, I hope you don’t think that was it.” Johnny pushes you down, knocking the wind out of you. He lifts your hips up as you grab onto the couch, his hands resting beside your head. He pummels into you, chasing his own high and watching your ass bounce with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping is so loud, you wonder if the neighbors can hear. You try to muffle your moans into the couch, not wanting to be too loud as he wrecks you. Johnny finds it increasingly hard to hold out any longer, especially once you tighten your walls around him, encouraging him to cum in you. A few more thrusts, and he fills you up, coating your walls with his cum. You really feel filthy now, dirty and used, both your arousals leaking down your thighs. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Unbeknownst to you, Johnny didn’t hang up. And neither did Jaehyun.
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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years
Text
Saturday Sun I
Summary: it’s the beginning of may. mother’s day has come and gone, with your family trip coming up and things are seemingly falling apart even more. you and harry are forced to come head to head with real issues. (harry x fem!reader)
Word Count: 1.3K (second part will be the longer piece) 
Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Find all in depth warnings in the first two parts. 
Notes: hello, part three is divided into two parts, this first one focusing on some conflict & the second part to it will focus more on family dynamic & light resolution. part of this piece has harry’s pov instead of entirely the readers. 
Part One & Two (along with a companion piece) can be found in my h.s masterlist! 
-
i need to ask her
what’s going on?
are we going strong?
May - Part I
It’s the Monday before your flight.
April had come and April had gone and you were still struggling to focus on anything but your kids and issues with Harry. You suppose that’s okay, your next deadline was months away and with the trip coming up all you could focus on were those things. 
Mother’s Day had slipped your mind completely. You were busy making lists and triple checking flight info to even think of asking the kids and Harry about their plans. 
“How was your weekend? Everything went well?” Dr. Walsh’s voice forces you to look up from the new watch that adorns your wrist. 
You glance at Harry, who waits for you to answer. You shrug. “It was nice… Harry and the kids treated me yesterday.” 
The watch is a beautiful rose gold color and is a thin band compared to the band of your last watch. Your kids initials had been engraved onto the inner band. It was, by all means, a lovely and well thought out gift. Not only replacing the watch you had worn for a decade and had finally snapped, but reminding of the best parts of your life. 
“Tell me about your day!” Dr. Walsh smiles kindly. Her eyes move between you and Harry, polite and u judging, before landing on your wrist.
“I got breakfast, at the table, breakfast in bed is too hectic with three kids and a baby.” You laugh softly, thinking of the kids and their not well hidden excitement for your day. “And they all got me gifts. The twins made clay handprints in school. Seph picked out a new wallet for me and even bought it on her own!” 
It’s impossible to contain your happiness that rolls off of you when you talk about the kids. Bragging about their thoughtfulness and kind gifts makes you almost forget where you are.
“That sounds so lovely.” Dr. Walsh brings you back down. Your eyes move to Harry. His eyes are open and he’s smiling softly as you speak. But his fingers are fidgeting in his lap and you know he had hoped you would be proud of his gift too. 
And you were. But maybe that was the worst part. That it was kind hearted and well thought out and so very Harry that you almost hated it. You hated how one small gift had caused a sliver of hope to crawl into your bloodstream and make your heart race for him again. 
That it made you believe, for one brief moment, all his promises and words about never falling out of love with you and never wanting to let you go. 
“Harry got me a watch too.” You finally say, quiet and full of despair. “Mine snapped a few weeks ago… It has the kids initials in it. It was a good day.” 
Dr. Walsh nods. “It’s a lovely watch.” Her eyes move pointedly from it on your wrist to you. “So what’s wrong?” 
You fiddle with it, twisting it on your wrist and tapping the face anxiously. “It feels tainted.” You steadily avoid looking at Harry as you say the words. Dr. Walsh nods, but doesn’t say anything, silently urging you to continue. “I love it. And that… makes me feel guilty. And it makes me feel dumb because one stupid gift made me forget this bullshit for a second and I just felt that love for him again.”
There’s an intake of breath to your right, but Dr. Walsh doesn’t look at all shocked by your words. “It makes sense. You want to be angry. You have a right to be angry and when something gets in the way of that, you’re unsure of how to feel.” 
You nod. Her words make sense. You did want to be angry and after your brief elation with the gift you found you still were. 
“I am going to feel like this for the rest of my life?” You whisper. 
She shakes her head. “No. One day, this anger will be gone. But… it’s up to you whether or not you can get there with each other. If you can forgive Harry and let go of the anger. Or not. Neither is wrong.” 
You nod. Sometimes these sessions felt like she was strictly talking to you. Harry just listened. Spoke up when you asked him to, or when Dr. Walsh worked on exercises. 
A part of you found that it helped. You were able to say things you may not have ever said to Harry. But sometimes it felt like he was unsure if he should try and that made you angrier. 
-
Harry’s hopes are built up and shattered. It’s his own fault, he knows it is. Knows that this was an easily fixable marriage before he fucked up. 
You’ve talked about the cheating a little in therapy. Dr. Walsh has mentioned it, you’ve let your anger out, Harry has apologized. It’s a cycle that seems never ending. He doesn’t know what to do. All he wants so desperately is to fucking fix it. 
But...
The drive has been silent. You stare out the window at cars and buildings that pass. There are bags in the truck rustling around, a last minute stop for last minute items needed for the trip. 
You had been silent in the store too. Quietly checking off your list as Harry pushed the cart behind you. Had his gift upset you this much? You still loving him made you this angry? 
“I… I don’t know what to do.” Harry finally says, forcing his voice to cut through the silence. You startle and turn to look at him. “Tell me what to do.” He pleads. 
He knows you can hear the desperation in his voice. Whether or not you were angry at him, you knew him, you knew his tells and his emotions. 
“What do you want me to say, H?” Your voice is a whisper but still harsh. “I don’t know! I don’t know what you can do! Build a time machine. Don’t cheat on me.” 
“It feels like we’re going in circles.” Harry tries to keep his calm. He wants to keep the anxiety and hurt out of his voice. “Like, you’re angry then you see this chance and there’s hope, then there’s anger again.” 
You scoff. “I’m sorry my pain isn’t linear enough for you! I’m sorry that sometimes I see glimpses of you and I’m reminded of us ten years ago, so in love and oblivious to the outside world. Sorry that it all comes crashing down when I remember that you fucking cheated on me!” 
Harry sighs and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I fucked up so bad. I know. I know. God, what can I do? Anything.” 
“Why did you do it?” You ask instead of answering. There’s a coldness in your words and Harry’s aware you’re both trapped in the car for another twenty minutes. So are you, apparently. “And don’t give me the same bullshit about being selfish and not knowing why and it being a mistake.” 
Harry feels desperation claw at his throat and tears burning in the corner of his eyes. It’s like he can’t breathe, trapped in a coffin of your anger and his guilt. He tries to keep his eyes focused on the road as he talks. “I… I felt wanted. I liked the attention.” 
There’s a sharp intake of breath, but Harry keeps his face forward and eyes focused. “Tell me what happened.” 
“Y/N…” Harry trails off. “I… I can’t.”
You groan and fall forward with your head in your hands. “I need to know, H. I don’t… I just need to know because all I can think about is these what if situations and scenarios in my head. And I’ll just keep running through them until I hate you.”
Harry bites down on his lip and spares a glance at you. “What if… What if I tell you and you hate me anyways?” The question is unfair. He knows it is. But he can’t fathom a world without you in it. A world where he sees you on drop off days and has to plan separate holidays. 
“I don’t know.” You say quietly. But, it feels like answer enough. There’s no reason for you not to leave. 
And Harry guesses a promise to try was never really a promise to stay. 
-
notes: thank you for the patience! i understand this piece is short, this part has been a lil tricky and i wanted to get the first part to may out before summer courses begun. i’m hoping i’m able to continue writing through them, but i will warn readers i am enrolled in two of the three week classes that have a lot of work and move quickly. so patience will be appreciated. i hope everyone is safe & healthy and has a wonderful end of school/university/spring! and congratulations to all the grads these next two months. i’m planning on ending this series with a total of five parts (march, april, may, june, july) w/ two endings.
tags (im tagging a couple ppl who messaged me awhile ago (after the last part), if u dont wanna be tagged anymore let me know! sorry!@alwaysclassyeagle @yourgoldengirls
if u wanna be tagged just message me & let me know if u want it for just this series or for all my h writing! ❤️
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nsfwjjk · 3 years
Text
take it, knj
you humiliated your boyfriend in front of his friends and told him your ex can fuck you better— when the truth was you boyfriend always fucked you good and hard.
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⇥ pairing :  dom!namjoon x sub!reader
⇥ genre : smut, a lil bit of angst
⇥ word count : 2.1 k
⇥ warnings : bdsm, sex toys, restraint, overstimulation, oral (f.received), fingering, penetrate, unprotected sex, rough sex, kinky, spanking, punishment, pet names (slut etc)
⇥ safeword guide :
green - go for it
yellow - slow down
red - stop
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➫ masterlist || © hardggukk 2020. Do not repost or modify
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It was your fault. Indeed. You should not have told it to anyone and most importantly to your boyfriend’s friend. Kim Taehyung. Well, it was not hundreds percent his fault but if he didn't mention about you encountered with your ex during the dinner, you will never be in this position. You knew Taehyung didn't deliberately state about your ex in front of your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon considerate that you already told Namjoon about it but when he saw how you went surprised and Namjoon started to ask about what he talked left him baffled. Taehyung knew how Namjoon acted about you, how he detested when any guy eyed you, always so overprotective and possessive for what was him, and you was him. His everything.
You yelled at the sound of Namjoon kicked the door of his bedroom behind both of you, his hands still wrapped tight around your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, your face strained and pale. You was not ready with whatever punishment he had inside his mind for you. You fucked up. So badly. You knew how much trouble you brought but you can’t help your thighs clenched and excited. After all, you loved to be treated like that. You could not fail to be stimulated with it. You kept your palm on his forearm, tried to loosen up his tight grip against your throat but to no avail, he choked you harder.
You deserved it. You knew no one even your ex can fuck you good like Kim Namjoon, himself but you dared. You dared him by saying ”Why you so jealous!? You afraid he could fuck me better than you!?”— most stupid things ever to say. Plus, to say it in front of your boyfriend’s friend madded him. It hurt his ego. You couldn't contain your anger when he started to think you acted sus when you exactly not, you didn't know why after three years with him he still not believe in you. You will never go to another guy except him. You knew how much your boyfriend drove you crazy and it will forever him.
You yelped when Namjoon pushed you on his bed, harsh. Your face met with the soft mattress at first along with your body, you got up immediately faced him as you crawled back. Your eyes followed every his movement as he strode towards his wardrobe, his hand reached the cabinet you wished he didn't, the drawer he kept his toy. He pulled the bottom drawer too hard until it was unattached from the furniture, he placed it on the floor harshly as it landed on the floor with a thump. Your heart thumped with fright, you never witness your boyfriend in a state like that.
”Namjoon!!” you shouted to bring his attention on you but when he turned his eyes on you, you could feel shivers ran down your spine as you sucked in deep breath. He was extremely enraged with you, his looks made you stopped in your tracks, the looks screamed ’you are going to take the punishment, there is no where out’.
”Don’t fucking open your mouth now.” He gritted his teeth, he paused for a second and whirled his feet towards you. You gulped your saliva to see him, you dazed as you stared at him walked at you. ”I don't want to hear any words coming out from your pretty fucking lips.” He warned.
His warned made your blood run cold, you couldn't predict what he will do to you but what you knew it will be hard. You blinked nervously when Namjoon reached the king-sized bed, he put his knee on the bed before yanked you by your ankle close to him. You shrieked but quick enough to shut up when his breath touched your face. You wanted to kiss him right away to calm him down but you freeze on the spot. It was like you didn't know who was the guy in front of you. ”You think your motherfucking ex fucked you better than me huh?” He said with an amused tone, his lips curved up to a wide smirk while his tongue pushed against his cheeks.
”N—No, it was a mistake, joonie. I d—don’t mean it like that,” You whispered up to him, even called him with favorite nickname but it seemed it was not even helped that time when you tried to reach his cheek but he slapped your hands away before grabbed your chin.
”All I ask from you is some loyalty and speak about whatever you think can bring you into this position, tsk but seeing who bratty you are even when I gave you punishment after punishment, you still choose this option. Am I too easy on you? Is that it?”
He brought his hands around your throat and choked it like a piece of the necklace he didn't want to take off from you. You breathed deeply as you looked up at him before your eyes followed his other hand went under your skirt, you gasped when he pushed his fingers inside of your entrance over your silk panties. You reached over his wrist but his glare enough to make you pulled back your hand instead gripped the mattress however you still wanted to try your luck as you attempted to scoot away from him but he slapped your thighs hard, you yelped and looked down on your thighs which get redden, Namjoon’s handprint even plastered on your skin.
”Don’t move. I warned you. You will sit here like a good slut you are and I will use your body like how I wanted. I will show you there is nobody who can fuck you as I do,” Namjoon said the words slow with his deep voice as his fingers pushed his fingers inside of you through your silk panties. You let out a moan at the weird feeling he gave you, you could feel your wetness gushed out from you began to seep through the silk fabric. Namjoon chuckled in mockery when he pulled out his fingers and rubbed his index fingers with his thumb to feel your wetness. ”You love it, dont you? When I treated you like this. Did he make you feel like this huh, pretty slut?”
Your moans got louder than before when he tapped your clit, you gasped at how incredible and amazing the man in front of you. He even can find your clit without even need to look and bother to open your panties. You froze at your spot as he left you like that went back to the broken drawer, you shook your eyes when you saw what things Namjoon reached to use on you. ”Yes, you are going to wear this.”
You were out of words, your boyfriend never had used it on you and never you experienced to be used with it even how bad and bratty your attitude sometimes; well a lot of times but Namjoon never once used it on you, you scampered back but Namjoon was faster enough to catch you by your ankle and immediately cuffed both your ankle with the spreader bar.
You wriggled your legs struggled to escape but you were shocked when it went even wider. ”Oh, you didn't know how this works since I have never used it on you but it's okay today you will found out.” You didn't like the mockery tone in Namjoon’s voice. You stared back at him as he walked around the bed towards your left and before you could even blink, Namjoon had pushed the button, button to get out the chains from his head bed. ”Urgh-Namjoon!!” You yanked your wrist from the cuffs attached to the chains but your legs got pulled as well made the spreader bar widened.
Your position on his bed like an alphabet x, your legs and arms prohibited her to move any muscle of your body. Your eyes helplessly followed Namjoon who smirked at you as he gazed at every inch of your body. His gaze enough made you felt like you were naked but you were still in your clothes. You were about to open your lips but Namjoon next action appalled you when he gripped the spreader bar and twisted your body before he pushed it to the front made your ass raised by him, the way he wanted.
You screamed when Namjoon gave a harsh slap to your ass as the sound of it echoed through his master bedroom. ”I’m so sick about your attitude.” That was what he said before he pulled your panties, left them above your knees as you felt his clothed bulge aligned against your ass. You shuddered when Namjoon gave a sharp slap against your folds, coated your wetness with his fingers. You sure Namjoon’s friends outside heard how harsh and loud his slap. ”You made me treated you like this slut.” He groaned before giving another slap.
You whimpered against the sheet as you fisted them, before you could process anything Namjoon had your eyes rolled back when he without any notice had pulled on the band of his sweat before plunged inside of your entrance. Moans slipped out your lips when he started to thrust, didn't even bother to let you used for his massive size like always instead he fucked so hard, rough, fast. Namjoon’s hip met your ass brutally, he gripped the side of your booty as he groaned. ”Tell me how he fucked you.” He demanded, his voice full of anger and jealousy. Your voice stuck in your throat by how vigorously your boyfriend's hip smacked against you.
You didn't realize when Namjoon let go of your cuff out frrom the chains when he gave another harsh smack on your butt, gripped your hair as it pulled you up. ”Tell me how he fucked you.” This time his hoarse voice lowered but enough to see how furious he was with you not reply to him. He yanked your hair, rest it on his shoulder as he whispered into your ears. Your back arched, allowed him to went deeper inside of you. You shook your head, refused to answer back to him but it infuriated Namjoon. He disliked when you didn't answer him, that was the reason you got treated like that by him. Just because you didn't answer a simple question and started to act suspicious by trying to mix up the real topic with him being possessive of you. He wouldn't if you told everything to him.
”Namjoon—” You barely can speak as your body struggled to take each intense thrust from him. He slapped your butt again, even harder than before. You screamed so loud by that. His rough action made your body shivered and it scared you. Your body fell forward as you cant hold your weight anymore, you knew he had strong stamina more than any ordinary man had, his cock plunged inside of you with the same rhythm, it never slowed down. ”Namjoon-” you called out his name again, begged for his mercy.
A high, squeaky moan left your throat. ”Tell me. Tell me all the ways he made you cum, slut. Tell me.” Namjoon urged, your body trembled as you gripped the sheets harder. His thrust so wild, the room filled with his skin slapped against yours and the bed frame hit the wall until you can see the mark it left against it. ”Tell me,” Another slap on your ass. ”Did he know you liked to be yelled at? Did he know you liked it rough and how you liked it to be in pain?” His voice had become increasingly strident, you flinched a slap from Namjoon made touch to your ass. You screamed as you tried to reach your ass to cover it but Namjoon reached your wrist and lock both of them behind your back. ”Did he know how to fuck you right? Did you know how to make your pretty pussy squirted?” His voice was raspy as he asked you that, you were more than turned on. His cock slide in out of you so easily because of your wet ass pussy, he pushed your lower back made your cunt went higher, changed his angle as he propped up his right legs and hit the spot that drove you crazy.
As soon as he changed his position, you felt your core began to clench around his massive cock made you rolled your eyes as your jaw dropped. ”Yeah, that spot right there. I’m the only one who knows that spot, Im the only want can make you do that when I want to...” Namjoon started to speed up and went even harder, your body rocked forward and back as your ass bounced with each rammed into you. ”...I’m the only one who knows how it feels when your pussy tightens like how it is now, how your ass clenched together and I know that means that beautiful pussy is going to make a mess for daddy.”
He was right. Whatever he said was right. No one was better than him. You were foolish to say your ex can fuck you better when you know he couldn't even last for one minute. You were so mad at Namjoon for accused you fucked your ex that night you guys chilled at the bar, you just said everything came to your mind and a part of you wanted to test him. You let out a loud moan as he shoved his cock again and again at your sweet spot. Your toes squirmed together as you panted, let Namjoon took over your body. He pulled out of you and ran his cock up and down your slit before you squirted. ”Yeah slut just like that,”
You were still in above ecstasy, the feelings of pleasure overtook every bone in your body even so before you could think Namjoon firmly placed his fingers into of you, your tightened your pussy didn't want his fingers to be shoved inside of you but not that he minded when he forced his two fingers went inside. Your squirted ran down your thighs as Namjoon moaned, enjoyed the sight in front of him. ”That’s what I fucking thought, look at these pretty mess. Did he ever make you did that, baby girl? hmm?” Namjoon moved his third fingers inside of you along with his other two fingers caused you to screech with discomfort.
”Fuck! Namjoon! Okay.” You yelled out, you couldn't handle the overstimulation after yoh had squirted out. You felt your eyes threatened to cry as you sensed the sharp sting of tears inside your orbs. ”Answer me.” Namjoom commanded. His raspy voice sent shivered down to your body. ”No! He didn't!” You screamed and gasped at how Namjoon kept his motions fast, didn't gave you any sort of break at all.
”Tell me how many times do you think I can make you cum in one night?” His fingers took the toll on your brains, continued to move in and out of you. ”How many times until you can't take it anymore?” His voice was rough with barely suppressed fury. He propelled his hip harder, you felt light-headed with the tremendous amount of pleasure and stimulation given to you. You felt wobbly on your legs, your body was almost worn out that your knees can't support your ass up however Namjoon noticed it and circled his arms around your hips pull your body up, his thrust had never wavered. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth agape and you reluctantly took every of his hard thrust.
”Fuck. I don't know.” You mumbled shakily, your face pressed against the mattress. Your replied aggravated Namjoon, he reached your clit and made a rigid circles on it. ”Fucking take it like a good slut.” His voice became a husky, erotic whisper. You had become fatigued after two times orgasms and you even had squirted but Namjoon not even once showed sign he will stop soon. Namjoon let out a final angry moan as he pulled out of you, left your hole empty. You shrieked when Namjoon turned your front body faced the ceiling with the spreader.
”Namjoon, please I’m sorry.” You apologized as your teary eyes met him when he flipped you over, but his eyes so cold and dark. He was not showing any emotions as he got up from the back, You looked up at Namjoon bare body as it glistened because of his sweat under his warm white lamp. You were also drenched with sweat, your hair stucked everywhere on your face.
”I don’t fucking care.” A deep growly voice of him replied to you. He leaned down on you as he moved the strings of your hair out from your face, your eyes wandered on his expressionless face to beg some mercy but he didn't even look at you. He then walked towards the damaged drawer, your eyes widened when he pulled out a vibrator from it. He walked back towards you and attached the cuff on both of your wrists against the chain again. ”Did he ever make you cum with his tongue, baby? Slip his tongue inside of the slutty hole until you quivered?”
You moaned louder when he placed the vibrator directly on your clit. Your body reflected the sudden sensations as you moved backward on the bed. Namjoon cocked his head to the side in disappointment as he pulled your legs with the spreader bar kept you under his control and set the vibrator at the highest peak of level, you cried out at it and wanted to keep your legs shut from him. ”Stop struggling.” Namjoon warned you before he attached his lips down on your hole. You tightened as the combination of the vibrator and his tongue made you shuddered. Your nerve was on the edge already from your previous orgasm, it won't take you a long to reach the climax again.
Namjoon’s tongue opened you up for him, allowed him more access inside of you as his saliva mixed up with your slick. He pulled away momentarily, took a look at you, somehow enjoyed to see you struggled. Your head was thrown back against the mattress, your back arched as you bit your lips harshly enough to cut them with your teeth. He kept the vibrator in place abruptly, positioned the vibrator on your small bundle of nerves that held so much pleasure to you. You could already tell you were way oversensitive as Namjoon watched you intently, knew that it wouldn't be that long until you come undone.
”Look at you slut-you don't even dare to talk like that to me now,” Namjoon chuckled, arched his eyebrows before bringing his lips to your core again as he moved his tongue in and out of you, slow and deliberate. ”I won’t! I promise!” You screamed, battled with such intense pleasure you underwent. You fisted your palm together, your body spasmed violently and your pussy clenched jointly as you splurted your cum. Namjoon smiled against your core, still kept the vibrator at your clit and his tongue still worked on your hole. ”How many times is that? You are going to count it for me.” Namjoon ordered.
”three! three-oh my god!” You choked out your saliva, Namjoon took the vibrator away as he stood up. A rush of relief filled you but only for a second before he pushed two fingers inside of you and started to move. You inhaled a sharp breath, you can't take it anymore, your pussy started to sting after all the pleasure. ”Namjoon! Stop please!” You yelled out again as your hole squirmed against his fingers.
”I won't stop until this pretty pussy stops reacting.” Namjoon exclaimed with his deep voice. He gripped your inner thighs firmly as he plunged in and out his fingers inside your hole. ”Baby-” You whined, a stream of tears fall from your eyes, you pussy still gave him reaction as he eyed you closely. After a quiet second, you stopped clenching when your fourth orgasm reached. You sighed as you closed your eyes, your chest fell up and down tried to breathe properly, you thought he was done with you but you were wrong when he opened the cuff but still left the spreader bar locked and carried you up as he pushed you against the large mirror adorned the side of his master bedroom. ”Namjoon please. Please,” You begged, your eyes still produced tears as it fell on your cheeks.
Namjoon looked up and look at your face through the mirror as he warned, ”Stop crying, slut.” Your legs trembled, your palms rested on the mirror. You cursed out when Namjoon shoved his massive, thick cock inside your throbbed hole. He was not giving you any break at all, each snap of his thrust brought you pleasure mixed with pain. You wanted him to stop but at the same time your pussy called for him, you decided to shut your eyes as you tried to focus on the pleasure. You yelped when Namjoon spanked your booty, ”Open your eyes baby, look how wrecked you are now.”
You opened your eyes immediately as you stared at him through the mirror. At this point you cant denied, he was the only one who can fuck you right, he was the only want who can treat you like that, who you put enough trust to do you as he wanted. You moaned again when Namjoon threw his head back, his mouth gaped open as he let out a deep groan and moaned. He looked so scary but at the same time so intimidating and so attractive. His movement still at the same pace, rough and fast. The pain started to develop inside your body, you clenched your palm into fists. ”yellow.” you muttered under your breath.
Namjoon gave a soft kiss on your shoulder as he kept going to reach his climax, you felt yourself tighten again. ”Good girl.” Namjoon praised softly, his palm rubbed your red ass. You moaned same goes to him when he splurged his cum inside of you, he stayed still for a moment, cockwarmed inside of you. You gasped stared at your pussy surged with his cum and yours as it trailed down to your tight. Your body almost gave up at the moment but Namjoon reached your body immediately. He carried you as he laid you down on his bed, you tried to catch your breath.
You got distracted when Namjoon walked away after giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. What was he doing? You were surprised when he turned around to see a dildo in his grasp. He grabbed you closer to him with the spreader bar before pulling it up made your legs widen and your pussy spread for him. It was crazy how you still can think how hot Namjoon right then, his built arms flexed when he grasped up the spreader. He looked at your hole before averting his eyes on you briefly and pushed the dildo inside of your core, your hands instantly wanted to reach your pussy but Namjoon’s glare halted your moves. Namjoon chuckled as he pushed in and out the dildo inside your pussy, ”Look at this dildo fucking my slut pretty pussy, my cum looked hot inside your hole, baby. This pussy is mine, do you understand?”
”Yes! It's yours!” You squealed helplessly, you squirmed when Namjoon pushed the spreader higher. Your ass practically hanged against the mattress, he gave a push of the dildo into you forcefully. You moaned when he turned it on, your mind went insane by the dildo vibrated inside you wildly. ”Fuck! Baby!” You yelled as you tried to clench your thigh but the restraint kept them opened. ”How many times now?” Namjoon asked, your voice stuck at your throat. Namjoon disliked it when you didn't answer him as he pushed the dildo further inside you. ”Four!” you replied.
Namjoon nodded, he stayed there, just let the dildo inside of him made all work for him. His right hand went up and grasped the spread bar, he smirked as he gazed down at you as you squirmed and moaned, begged his mercy but Namjoon just stayed there hold the spreader up with both of his hands and watched you rode your fifth orgasm. ”Namjoon, please... I beg you to stop, It's too much,”
”I will stop until you knew the weight your words have,” He replied, his eyes enjoyed how wrecked you looked under his gaze. ”Namjoon!” you were getting angry at the moment, ”Baby please I’m sorry okay, I didn't mean it!”
That got his attention as he crouched down, gripped your chin and stared deep inside of your orbs. ”I know you didn't but I have to make sure you won't talk like that to me again. You both know, I’m the only one for you.” His words made you angry but you can't stop your stomach coiled up, you felt butterflies from it. ”I’m the only want who can treat you like this and giving you satisfaction.” You yelled when Namjoon pushed the dildo inside of you again as it became slippery because of the cum stuffed inside of you. ”Please take it out!” You screamed, you cant held it anymore.
To your surprise Namjoon muttered ’okay’, you were relieved at second but gasped when he pushed the spreader higher to the air as he removed the dildo but pushed his hard cock inside of you. ”Namjoon! Stop!” You had tears rolled down your cheeks.
”You know your safe word.” He replied as he looked down at you, pushed his hips inside of you roughly. Your moaned became louder as the pain started to approach you. He gave a few more thrusts inside of you then replaced his cock with his fingers. Your orgasm started to swell again, you pushed his wrist off from your hole, Namjoon shook his head at your moves. He put the spreader bar down before he slapped your face, ”Stop fighting and take this like a good slut, baby.”
This time Namjoon shoved his cock inside of you, he snapped his hips into you, he supported his weight with his arms beside your face as he plunged inside of you so rough. His hard breath fanned your face, he then pulled out again from you then reached down and pushed his three fingers inside of you. You screamed and shut your eyes as you felt another orgasm came. Namjoon pulled out his fingers when he felt like your orgasm started to reach and placed his dick inside of you. ”Come around my cock like a good whore.” Namjoon groaned.
Your hands tried to push his chest off from you but to no avail he didn't move at all instead pushed his dick inside of you so rough, ”Namjoon stop!” you begged, your body tried to fight him. Your orgasm started to reach again but Namjoon kept thrusted his hip. You can’t do it anymore. Your breathe quickened, ”Namjoon!” you screamed out, wished he pulled out but Namjoon gave a kiss on your forehead still thrusted like a wild animal. ”Namjoon!” you yelled again. ”Red”
”What?” Namjoon abruptly stopped his movements, baffled by what you said. His grip on your hip loosened a bit, he looked down at you with confusion. You never once used those words every since you and him together, he knew you liked it but today he heard those words. ”Red!” You repeated, your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks left him shocked, he slowly took his cock out of you, afraid if he took it out abruptly your body will ache even further.
”Shit! What is hurt baby?” He crouched down on the floor opened the restraint from you. You immediately brought your legs up as you curled up against the mattress, you broke down and sobbed like a child. You brought your hands to your aching private part, put on the pressure against it to lessen the pain. Ykh was in great pain, Namjoon didn't hurt you but it was too much, you couldn't take the overstimulation.
”Baby, what do you need? What can I do for you?” Namjoon panicked, he felt guilty about the way he had treated her. He should not punish you that hard, he knew you already apologize but he was too angry, he wanted you to know you were him, he never wanted to make you hurt. ”I-I don't know,” you chocked on your tears made Namjoon ashamed by himself. Namjoon quickly stood up and took the comforter he had thrown earlier before he punished you on the floor and wrapped your body with it.
”Please, don’t cry, baby,” Namjoon wiped your tears as he kissed your shoulder from the back, ”I’m sorry, I had hurt you, I’m so sorry, Princess.” Namjoon caressed your hair as he nibbled your earlobe nonstop whispered sorry, you felt sorry for him. He didn't even hurt you, you were just too sore to take the punishment.
”No, Namjoon, you didn't hurt me. I was too sore, I promised you I enjoyed it,” You slowly turned your body to him and wrapped his naked body with the comforter as well, you rested your head on his chest. ”I’m sorry.”
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clairenatural · 4 years
Text
Suptober 2020, Day 4: Branded | ~900 words, destiel
Sometimes, when Castiel claps Dean on the shoulder just right, it sends a bolt of electricity through his entire body. It happens a few times before he realizes why—at this point, it feels like the handprint was gone as quickly as it appeared, and Dean tries not to think about it. He has too much other shit in his life, Hell, even just with Cas, to worry about. Instead, he does what he always does; he sets his jaw and ignores the buzzing under his skin.
It works until one day, in the library, Cas covers his shoulder with his entire hand as he leans in to see what Dean’s reading, and Dean noticeably starts. And then freezes.
“Dean…?” Castiel questions, and Dean grimaces.
He considers trying to distract him with the research in front of them, but Cas is looking at him in a way that tells him he won’t accept that as an answer. He considers lying, but Cas has always seen through that. He sighs and forces himself to look the angel in the eye. “You remember when you pulled me out of hell and left that—” he gestures at his shoulder, where Castiel’s hand remains. “Y’know. I guess it was, uh. Right there.”
Castiel’s eyes widen and he pulls his hand off, taking a step back. Dean tries not to miss the contact. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and now Dean is the confused one. “I didn’t think you could feel it.”
Dean frowns. “What?”
“The mark,” Castiel answers, as if that clears anything up. “Where I first touched you, in Hell.”
Dean shifts in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. “Does it matter? It’s gone now.”
Cas breaks eye contact. “No. Well—it is, in a way.” He takes a deep breath. “The handprint healed, but that was only how it physically manifested. It’s branded into your soul.”
Dean stares at him for one second, then two, then—“You branded my soul?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Kinda feels like something you don’t do accidentally, Cas.”
“We didn’t know what would happen, Dean. My grace touched your soul and they—I don’t know, bonded. To an extent. And it left a mark.” Now he looks frustrated, which Dean thinks he has no right to be. “We have talked about this.”
Dean scoffs. “You mean the ‘profound bond’ crap.” Castiel nods, and Dean looks at him, incredulous. “I thought you meant…I dunno, you’d imprinted on me. Like a duckling. Not that your handprint is branded into my soul.”
“My true form doesn’t have hands, Dean.”
“Great, so I had an angel tentacle inside me. I feel so much better.”
“You know that’s not—” Castiel cuts himself off, reconsidering the argument. He sighs. “Regardless. I didn’t know you noticed. I’ll—I’ll stop.”
He looks so resigned that it takes a minute for all the pieces to click, but when they do, Dean’s jaw drops.
“You can still see it.”
“Of course I can.”
“And you’ve been touching it on purpose?”
Dean thinks his tone is puzzled, not angry, but Castiel flinches anyway. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m not—” Dean pushes himself out of his chair. “I just, um. Why?”
They’re face to face, now, but Cas still won’t look at him. His jaw is set, resolved. “It’s comforting,” he says, finally, like it’s some big secret. “It reminds me of who you are, and who I am, and how we ended up here, and all that…‘profound bond crap.’” He doesn’t move his hands, but Dean can hear the air quotes. “It’s almost automatic. But,” here Cas drags his eyes back to Dean’s, and it looks like it takes an effort. “I will stop.”
It’s the second time he’s said it, but the first time Dean didn’t really know what he meant. This time, it fills him with a weird sense of preemptive loss.
“No.” the answer is immediate, instinctual, and surprise flickers across Castiel’s face. “I mean—” Dean clears his throat and tries again. “It’s not, you know. It’s not bad. Just…” he forces a laugh, a breathy thing. “Warn a guy, will you?”
“Okay,” Cas replies, in the way he does when he’s not entirely sure what’s going on. He glances at Dean’s shoulder, then back to his face. He squints, just a bit. A question.
Dean answers. He reaches down for Castiel’s wrist—because wrists are still part of his Winchester-patented Safe Touch Zone, even if nothing about this situation is safe—and guides his hand back up to his shoulder.
“Oh,” Cas breathes, in understanding, and then he’s reaching for Dean all by himself, fitting his hand perfectly into its rightful place on his shoulder.
It’s not a shock this time. It’s still buzzing, but it’s warm, and Dean doesn’t fight it. He lets the warmth spread, creeping down his arm and unfurling across his chest. It feels safe. It feels right. It feels like home.
Like Cas.
Dean brings his other hand up and across his chest to cover Castiel’s hand on his shoulder, and the angel visibly relaxes. He smiles at Dean, and Dean smiles back, and they stand there, silent but together.
Maybe, Dean thinks, having a weird angel-tentacle soul brand isn’t so bad after all.
487 notes · View notes
downondilaudid · 4 years
Text
Not Just a Genius
This is a third part to Anatomy Lesson, second part to Secret Sex Buddy.
Requested: Yes
Prompts: None
Word Count: 5.2K
Warnings: Smut of course
“Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.”
― Criss Jami
You walked into work, your steps slightly slower than usual. You and Spencer had, let's call it a late night. Spencer had spent the night but took his own car to work to not raise any suspicion. You had arrived first, actually early for once, you assumed Spencer had stopped to get coffee. He had woken you up early this morning, horny as hell, forcing you to give him a blowjob, after that neither of you could go to sleep. You pulled out your phone getting ready to send him a text. 
Y/N: You better be bringing me some coffee. 
You stuffed your phone into your back pocket. “Gasp, is the one and only Y/N Y/L walking like she had some hot sexy time last night?” A voice teased from behind you. 
You let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff, “really, Pen?” 
She giggled, “oh please, you don’t need to be a profiler to tell you had a good time. So, who is this sex genius, do we know him?”
That’s one way to put it, you thought to yourself. You set your stuff down at your desk, Penelope hovering over you like a bee. 
“Don’t worry about it, Pen. You don’t know him.” You answered.
“Know who?” Another voice chimed in. 
You turned, seeing Spencer walk over to your desk, a drink carrier filled with two coffees in his hand. Before you could answer, Garcia took the opportunity to poke more fun at you. 
“Y/N’s supposed sex genius she was with last night. No girl walks like that unless she’s had a wild night.”
“Garcia!” You groaned out, running your hands over your face. 
“Oh, please, it’s only Spencer!” She laughed, before patting you on the head and bouncing off to her computer room. 
Spencer watched Garcia walk away, before turning back to you, “sex genius, huh?” He questioned, a smirk on his face.
“Her words, not mine.” You teased, grabbing your coffee from the carrier, taking a sip of the warm liquid.
Spencer rested his hand on your desk, leaning over you slightly, “hmm, so you don’t think I’m a sex genius, sweetheart?” His voice was low and teasing, a beautiful sound to hear in the morning. 
“I-uh, Spencer we’re at work!” 
“Please, baby? I really need you.” Spencer whined.
You rolled your eyes, turning in your chair so you were facing him directly, “go take care of yourself in the bathroom.” 
Spencer leaned in closer, his plump lip catching on his teeth, “please, sweetheart. Just suck me off real quick, we can go down to the file room. Remember last time we were there?” He leaned in once more so his lips were next to your ear, his next words came out in a low whisper, “you had such a hard time keeping quiet for me.” He brought his hand up, running it over your bottom lip. “I need you, baby.” 
Ugh, he knew exactly what buttons to push, he knew exactly what to do to get you to break. Luckily, your brain overpowered your body, and you pushed him back lightly, “no, Spence. We’re at work, you can fuck me later. Garcia’s already suspicious, and JJ already knows.” 
Spencer groaned lightly, he knew you were right, he was just too horny to accept it. 
Turns out Spencer would have to wait a while, you had a case. A case that took place in Austin, Texas, three men had turned up dead, all with the same M.O.
You took a step back, a finger placed against your chin in concentration. You and JJ were putting together a victim board, and so far you could only tell that these three men were all very openly gay. 
“They were all taken from different gay bars, the only connection is that they’re gay.” You stated.
“We’ll see what Garcia can find about their lives. It’s not against their sexuality. All unnecessary  wounds were done post-mortem, they either didn’t want to hurt them or are trying to make some sort of statement.” Hotch deciphered. 
You nodded along. 
You were talking to one of the officers, who, unfortunately, was being extremely unprofessional. He was making sexual jokes left and right, alluding to how “good he’d bet you’d be in bed.” It was revolting, you didn’t even know this man. 
“You’re sure this is all the gay bars in the area?” You questioned, pointing to a list of bars he had handed you. 
“That I know of, babydoll. Granted, I’m not gay.” He stated, adding a wink to the end of his statement. 
You cringed, trying your best to keep up a professional act, “alright, thank you.” 
He smirked at you, nodding his head, “anytime, doll, and I do mean anytime.”
You turned away rolling your eyes as you brought the list to Hotch, this case better be over quickly, you thought. 
Apparently, luck was on your side, the case had ended quickly. Apparently, a man had been frequenting these bars, picking out the most flamboyant men, killing them for media attention to bring awareness of the struggles the LGBTQ+ community goes through. His brother had recently taken his own life, due to avid bullying from his peers because of his homosexuality. 
The case was overall disturbing, and you couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and take a nice warm bath. 
You were clad in a towel, waiting for the bath to fill up, when a knock sounded through the room. You let out a sigh, praying that this conversation wouldn’t take away your warm bath. 
You peeked through the peephole, you could only see a torso, clad in a blazer, button-down shirt, and a tie. You unlocked the door, pulling it open to peek your head out. 
“What do you want, Spence? It’s late” 
He placed his hand against the door, pushing it open and slipping in. His eyes were dark, and filled with desire. “I saw that officer flirting with you earlier.” 
You groaned, “everyone did. It was so obvious.” Your hand tightened the towel on your body, walking into the bathroom to turn off the running faucet. You leaned over the side of the tub, your towel riding up your thighs.
Spencer hummed in approval behind you, one of his hands brushing gently up your thigh. “Why didn’t you stop him if it was so obvious?”
“I was trying to be professional, Spencer. A lot of women get hit on, we just choose to brush it off.” You reasoned. A yelp escaped your mouth when a hand yanked on your hair, the towel falling from your body onto the side of the tub. Spencer pulled you up, his clothed hips rocking into your bare ass. 
“Spencer” you sighed breathily, squirming lightly in his grip. 
He ignored you, his hands grabbing your elbows to pull you harder against him as he ground into you. “You know you’re mine, right?”
You nodded meekly, pressing your ass back against his crotch. “Please, just do something, Spence.” 
“I want to hear you say it, say you’re mine.” He whispered. Despite the two of you being unofficial, you were unofficially official. This was his way of letting you know, communicating through rough kisses and late nights, that the two of you were indeed exclusive. 
“I’m yours” you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him pepper kisses over your neck, working his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“Bend over the tub.” He commanded, grabbing your hair and pushing your head forward, you stumbled to your knees, crying out at the pain. His hand released your hair, digging into your hips, he shoved you forward so the front of your thighs hit the tub. 
You yelped once more, shooting your hand out into the warm water to keep yourself from falling headfirst into the bath. “Spencer, fuck” you groaned out.
He chuckled behind you, before landing a sharp slap to your ass. Your body jolted forward at the impact, a low moan falling from your lips. Spencer laughed, a genuine laugh, “you like that, baby? You like it when I mark your pretty little ass?” His hand came crashing down again, this time harder. 
You choked on a moan, your ribs digging painfully into the side of the tub. His hand rubbed the soft flesh of your ass, trailing down the back of your thighs and back up. 
A gasp left your lips as his hand dipped into your folds, sliding up and down slowly. “You’re so wet for me… how pathetic.” 
You whimpered lightly, trying to push yourself back onto his hand. You felt so amazingly filthy at that moment, his words should’ve hurt, they should’ve humiliated you, but instead, they only made you wetter. His hand retreated, “oh, no, no, sweet girl. You’ll get what I want when I want.” Spencer chided.
He loved seeing you like this, he loved making you like this, so desperate to be fucked. It made sense when you really thought about it, he was quite submissive in his workplace and dominating you gave him that authority that he craved.
His large hand crashed down onto your backside, and you yelped at the stinging, “shit!” One of your arms reached out of the water, grabbing onto the other side of the tub. You jolted forward as Spencer continued his assault on your backside, alternating between cheeks. 
Mewls and moans escaped your mouth, you tried your hardest to keep them in, praying you wouldn’t alert the team. The worst thing that could happen is someone coming to check on you and finding you naked, bent over the side of the tub, with Spencer at your backside.
“You look so pretty with my handprints all over your ass.” He muttered, his hands running over the soft flesh, kneading it ever so often. 
You hummed lightly at his words, subconsciously pushing back into his grip. A low chuckle left his mouth, you felt him lean over your back, his hard-on pressing up against your ass. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and his hand ran up your back to tug on your hair. Your arm bracing itself against the tub fell back into the water as your head was jerked back. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?” 
“Yes, yes, daddy.” It took every ounce of strength you had to resist pushing back against him. “Please, please-” you were cut off by a shriek as Spencer's hand smacked your ass once again. 
“I don’t think you are.” He teased, his fingers trailing up and down the burning flesh of your ass.
A moan left your mouth, not able to hold back, you pushed back against him, begging for friction. Spencer’s hand yanked so hard on your hair you were pulled from the tub, and onto your sore knees. Spencer’s breath was heavy against your ear as he whispered, “I’m starting to think you’re deaf with how much you’re disobeying.”
You whimpered lightly, “sorry, I’m sorry.” Despite your words, you rolled your hips, grinding your sore ass into his pelvis. 
Spencer growled at the friction, sighing angrily through his nose, “fine,” his hand released your hair, roughly grabbing your arms, he pinned them together behind your back with one hand. “You want to cum so bad? You’re going to cum.” 
Two of his fingers filled your pussy quickly, rubbing against your walls. “Fuck!” You cried, your head dropping forward with a strangled moan. Spencer’s hand holding your arms shoved forward, digging your ribs into the side of the tub.
“You’re going to cum on my fingers, again, and again, until I decide I want to fuck you.” He spat, his fingers curling as his hand picked up speed. 
Your back arched as your orgasm neared. Moans and mantras of Spencer’s name tumbling from your lips. “Spencer, Spencer-fuck, daddy.” 
He chuckled in your ear, his fingers working impossibly faster, “cum, cum on my finger.” 
A flash of white filled your vision, your eyes squeezed shut. Shivers ran up your spine, and your head tilted back with a moan. Spencer’s fingers didn’t stop their relentless pace, working you through your orgasm. 
“Hmm… again.” Spencer commanded, stopping momentarily to add a third finger. You groaned, leaning forward to try and escape the overstimulation. But, Spencer’s grip on your arms tightened, pulling your back onto his fingers. “Shit!” You yelled, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The obscene sounds of his fingers working in and out of your went cunt filled the room. 
“Are you going to cum? You going to cum all over my fingers?” Spencer questioned, as his fingers brushed against your g-spot. 
Your thighs shook around his hand, groaning as your second orgasm coursed through your body. “Fuck-daddy, yes!” A sob tore through your mouth, your vocal cords strained and raw, all thoughts of the team completely disregarded. 
“Good girl” Spencer praised, his fingers slowing as you came down from your high. 
You panted, your shoulders aching from the grip Spencer had on your arms. “Please, please fuck me.” 
“With my fingers? Since you asked so nicely.” Spencer teased, a fourth finger prodding at your entrance. 
“No! No, no, your cock!” You cried, genuine tears flowing down your face. 
“That’s not what you said,” he whispered, as he pushed his fourth finger into you, stretching your walls. 
You screamed, thrashing in his grasp, “Spencer, fuck-fuck.” You were delirious, mind completely clouded with a suffocating lust. It was like you and Spencer were the only two humans on planet earth, the only beings that mattered. 
“One more and I’ll give you my cock” Spencer groaned out in your ear, his own primal lust beginning to take over. 
Broken cries of his name were the only words you managed to say as your third orgasm consumed you, the pressure building in your stomach finally being released. 
“There you go” Spencer praised, pulling his hand from your cunt, as your juices ran down your thighs. 
“Spence-I can’t” you whimpered out, your thighs still shaking from your orgasms. 
Shuffling could be heard from behind you, followed by clothes rustling and the distinct sound of a zipper. “I didn’t ask if you could, you’re going to, baby.” 
He released his hold on your arms, and your body fell forward once more, arms just barely catching yourself from plummeting headfirst into the tub. The head of his cock brushed against your sensitive cunt, and Spencer’s hands grabbed onto your hips, sharply tugging you back onto him. 
You let out a loud scream, the pain and pleasure blending together to form a sweet bliss. “Fuck” you moaned, his hands helping to guide your hips back to his. 
“Fuck, that's it, Y/N” Spencer moaned, adjusting his grip on your hips, the sheen layer of sweat on your bodies causing them to slip. 
Spencer’s hips slammed into your bruised ass, the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the bathroom. Your knees were definitely going to be a pretty shade of pink tomorrow. 
Then, strangely, all of the sensations were gone, Spencer had scooted away from you, leaving you empty and used. “Spence what the fu-ah!” 
As you were about to question him, his hands dug into your hips again, yanking you away from the tub. Your arms slipped from the tub, falling to the floor. Before you could get out another word, Spencer’s hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair. He pushed your head down, causing your arms to collapse, leaving your ass in the air, and the side of your face squished against the cool tile. 
A sob tore through your chest as you felt him fill you once more, and your nails scratched against the tile, searching for something to hold onto. Spencer growled into your ear, lust possessing his body as he pounded into you viciously. You had no clue how you were going to be able to walk tomorrow without arousing suspicion. 
                                                            … 
When you thought of the jet, you thought of peace, it was the calm after the storm. After seeing the horrors of your job, it was pure tranquility to gaze out the window at the blue sky and feel the slight bumps as you ascended through the clouds. 
“You okay, Y/L?” Derek asked from beside you. 
“Hmm?” You said, his deep voice pulling you from your pensive state.
His brows furrowed at you, his head tilting slightly. 
“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I was just looking at the clouds.” 
Derek nodded, starting to pull the headphones hanging around his neck back up to his ears. 
“Did you guys hear that couple last night?” Emily chimed in.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and it took all of your willpower to not shoot a glare at Spencer, but you knew that would only arouse suspicion. 
“Yeah, they were… loud.” JJ said, and you could feel her blue orbs bearing into you. Shit
“Someone was getting some.” Derek chuckled. 
Emily and JJ laughed along, and you took this as your opportunity to gaze up at Spencer, seeing his nose stuffed in a book, eyes speedily scanning the pages. The title definitely wasn’t written in English. 
Spencer’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, one of his eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner. You quickly looked at your lap, like a schoolgirl who had been caught staring at her crush.
“Speaking of, Penelope told me you’ve found some sort of sex genius, Y/N” Emily teased, leaning forward slightly. 
“Ooooh, now I’m listening,” Derek said, turning his attention to you. 
Your eyes darted to JJ, a nervous smile on your face, “he’s not a sex genius, he’s just a guy I met.”
“Oh, so there definitely is someone,” Derek concluded with a laugh. 
You groaned, “I’m going to kill Penelope.”
They chuckled at your statement before Emily spoke up “he must be good if he’s hindering your ability to walk into work.”  
A blush crept onto your face as the three of them erupted into a fit of laughter, you hid your face in your hands, sighing in annoyance. If only they knew said “sex genius” was sitting five feet away from them. 
“Leave Y/N alone.” A gruff voice spoke, a small smile on Hotch’s face as he walked by.
“Thank you!” You screeched, your hand gesturing to him. 
“Did Hotch just smile?” JJ asked, a giggle in her voice.
                                                             … 
You dragged your sore body into your apartment, lazily tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter. The case wasn’t horribly rough, as mild as murder can get. But, Spencer was definitely rough, not that you disliked it. 
You stripped off your blouse, throwing it in the laundry bin, working on your pants next, which you had worn due to your bruised knees. Right as you were about to unclip your bra, a knock sounded from the front door. 
A groan could be heard throughout the room as you trudged to the door, eye peeking into the peephole. Another groan escaped your mouth at the sight of Spencer, you begrudgingly unlocked the door, pulling it open.
“Spencer, what the hell? I’m still sore, and tired.” You complained, turning on your heel to walk back inside. 
Spencer followed, his eyes trailing you like a predator to prey, he leaned leisurely against the counter, his arms crossed. “I never really punished you for letting that officer flirt with you.” He voiced aloud. 
You rolled your eyes, turning to face him, your hands planted sassily on your hips, “seriously you wouldn’t call dicking me down with my face against the floor a punishment?” 
Spencer laughed, a smirk dawning his face, “hardly” his head tilted slightly watching as you shifted your weight in discomfort. 
You weren’t uncomfortable with him, per se, but rather, how vulnerable you felt. You stood, clad in a lacey bra and panties, and he stood, fully clothed, just watching you.  
“C’ mere,” he said, gesturing with his hand. You complied, walking towards him with an awkward shyness. His hand brushed some stray hair from your face, tucking it securely behind your ear. “You’re such a pretty girl, you know that?” 
A shiver washed through your body at his touch, his fingertips trailing lightly down the side of your face, and to your shoulder, playing with the strap of your bra. “Y/N” he started, his hand grazing between the valley of your breasts. “You know that right?” He questioned, his tone more assertive than before. 
You bit down on your lip lightly, nodding your head. His hand trailed back up your chest, curling under the strap of your bra, and in one sharp tug, he had pulled you to his chest, growling lowly in your ear. “Then you understand why I’m not fond of you allowing men to flirt with you, thinking they have a chance with you?” 
Each sharp breath you took pushed your chest even further into his, eyes bearing up at him. He released your bra strap, resting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from him. “Then, make it up to me.”
You grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as you dropped to your knees. You reached out, beginning to unbuckle his belt, before his hand grabbed yours, halting your movement. “Ah, ah, bra off first.” He teased, his own hands finishing unbuckling his belt. His lust-filled eyes watched as you reached behind your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it off your shoulders. 
He hummed in approval, and his hand reached into his slacks, pushing them down slightly as he pulled out his hard cock. His head fell back with a groan as you quickly wrapped your lips around the head, your pointer finger running up the vein on the underside. 
He let you tease, surprisingly, and his hand laced in your hair, pulling some of it out of your face. “Fuck” he muttered breathlessly. 
You moaned lightly around him, taking more of him into your mouth, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t fit. Spencer groaned, his brows knitting together, as his hand applied pressure to the back of your head, forcing you down on him. 
You let your hand fall from his length, placing it at the back of his thigh to brace yourself. You breathed steadily through your nose, suppressing your gag reflex as you took him deeper. His hand stopped, grabbing a fist full of your hair, and pulling your head back. 
“That’s it, baby, show me how sorry you are.” His words seemed to ignite something in you, the grip on his thigh tightened, and you bobbed your head along his length. Spencer moaned at the feeling of your lips around him, yanking back on your hair, causing you to gag slightly. “Good girl” he praised, and a muffled whimper escaped your mouth. 
You pulled back, slower this time, letting your tongue run along his cock. “Hmm… you want me to cum in your mouth or your cunt?” Spencer asked, pulling your head off his cock, saliva dribbling down from the corners of your mouth.
“Cum in my pussy, please?” You begged, both of your hands pressed against his thighs, begging at his feet like a puppy. 
Spencer smiled down at you, one of his hands stroking your face affectionately. “Okay, sweetheart.” His hands grabbed yours, helping you to your feet. Once you were upright, one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him for a soft kiss. You hummed lightly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Bedroom, I want you to ride me.”
You grinned at him, giddily grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall. 
He stepped in first, pushing off his blazer, his hands beginning to unbutton his dress shirt, “you going to help me?”
“Of course, daddy” you replied, stepping forward to work on his pants while he took off his shirt. 
A dreamy sigh left your throat as you watched Spencer clamber onto the bed, turning to prop himself up against the pillows. Quickly, you shed your panties, not bothering to look at the obvious wet patch. “Ride daddy,” Spencer said, his hands folded behind his head. 
You crawled onto the bed, stopping next to Spencer, about to throw a leg over him, when his hand grabbed your hip, stopping you. Your brows knitted in confusion, “Spene-” 
“Wrong way, sweet girl.” Spencer smirked at you.
Your jaw dropped, “Spencer, please, I want to see you” you groaned out.
He chuckled at your whining, his hand pointing forward as he spoke, “you will, baby. And I get to see your pretty little ass.” Your gaze followed his hand, jaw dropping even further when you saw what he was pointing to. Your vanity mirror. 
“Okay” you replied meekly, turning your body towards the mirror and crawling over his lap. His hands met your hips, helping you onto him. 
One of Spencer’s hands left your hip, using it to guide his cock up and down your cunt. “Fuck” you moaned, your hands digging into the soft flesh of Spencer’s bare thighs. “Please, daddy, ple-fuck!” You cried as his cock slipped into you. You ground your hips down onto him, moaning as your walls dragged along his length. 
“Such a good girl” Spencer growled, one hand on your hip, and the other coming down to smack your ass. You shrieked, your hips working faster, your gaze fell onto the mirror, watching as your tits bounced and Spencer’s cock disappeared inside you. You moaned at the sinful sight, you didn’t think watching yourself fuck could be so erotic, but guess you were wrong. 
“You love this don’t you, baby? Such a slut for me, love watching you ride me.” Spencer muttered, the exhaustive lust beginning to overpower your tired bodies. 
You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach as you weakly nodded at Spencer’s words. “Can I cum? I wanna cum for you.” You groaned out, one of your hands leaving his thigh to rub small circles against your clit. 
His hand grabbed your hair, yanking your head back as he growled out “you’re mine. Say it, tell me who you belong to!” 
You cried out, your hips beginning to falter as Spencer rolled his hips up into you. Your eyes crossed, a weak moan falling from your lips. “You, you-I’m yours” 
Spencer grunted harshly, giving another sharp tug to your scalp, “watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum around my cock.” 
A squeal left your body as your orgasm hit you like a train. His hand released your hair, causing you to fall forward, arms planted firmly against the comforter as your body tensed. You watched in the mirror, as moans spilled from you, and Spencer grunted behind you, his own orgasm washing over him. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and your thighs shook around Spencer’s. His hands shot to your hips, digging into your skin, his nails leaving crescents and red streaks as he readjusted his grip, pulling you down onto him one last time.
                                                           …
You basked in the feeling of Spencer’s warm body against yours, head laying against his chest, listening to his heart beat. 
Spencer’s hand ran soothingly through your hair, “I love you” his raw husky voice broke the silence.
You giggled like a schoolgirl, tilting your head to look up at him, “I love you more.” 
“Actually, statistically men tend to say ‘I love you first,’ which I did not. Women do tend to say ‘I love you’ around ten times more than men. Men and women express their feelings of love and affection in different ways. Men are usually-” 
His rant was silenced by your lips melting into his, upturned in a smile. You pulled back, a smile still on your face, “we have all day to ourselves tomorrow, go to sleep.” 
Spencer chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer into him. His lips placed a kiss to the top of your head, the two of you drifting off to sleep in each other's embrace. 
The unfortunate ringing of your cell phones brought you out of your slumber. You rolled over groggily, grabbing your phone. Pulling it away from your face, you let your eyes adjust to the light. You were met with the sight of two neglected notifications. 
Hotch: We have a case, meet at 9.
At least it was an hour later than usual.
One missed call: Aaron Hotchner. 
Fuck. Your eyes darted to the time at the top of your phone, your stomach doing backflips as your read, 9:12.
You scrambled from the bed, whacking Spencer awake in the process. “Jesus, Y/N” he groaned, sleepily running a hand over his face. 
“Get up” you said, grabbing his clothes from the floor and chunking them at him, “we have a case, we’re late.” 
He was out of bed so quick on any other day you would've thought he had watched a dead body be resurrected. “I can’t wear these clothes, I wore them yesterday!”
“There’s no time to stop, we’re already ten minutes late!” You groaned, throwing on a t-shirt, hoping you could dress up the look with a blazer.
“Dammit” he cursed, following your lead. 
Spencer walked through the glass doors, you hobbling behind him, still sore from yesterday. At the sight of the two of you, all jaws dropped to the floor. 
“No. Way.” Emily enunciated, her head shaking in disbelief. 
Derek laughed loudly, “you’ve been holding out on us, pretty boy.” He said between breaths.
“W-what? No-I don’t-we didn’t” The two of you began to defend yourselves, talking over each other, a stupid move in a room full of profilers. 
“Y/L your shirts on inside-out, and I’m pretty sure that’s the blazer Spencer wore yesterday.” Derek pointed out, now catching his breath. 
You looked down and sure enough, he was right, your shirt was on inside-out, and you had unknowingly grabbed Spencer’s blazer from the floor. No wonder it was so big. 
“So Spencer’s not just a genius, but a sex genius!” Garcia squealed, an enthusiastic smile curling her purple painted lips. 
Spencer flushed at the comment, his hands digging into his pockets. “Dear God” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands. 
You all shuffled into the briefing room, taking your seats. “And cue the never ending teasing.” You groaned. 
“Did they finally figure it out? You two need to stop sneaking around like teenagers.” JJ chimed in, walking into the room, handing files out to everyone. 
“What, you knew?” Emily gasped, looking at JJ bewildered. 
“You guys told JJ?” Derek accused. 
“Oh, no one told JJ, JJ found out herself when the two decided to get frisky at the club!” JJ laughed, joining in on the torment. 
“Ah, ah, ah! Stop it, stop!” You cried, not being able to stop the smile that broke out onto your red face. 
“Leave the teenagers alone, we have a case.” Hotch said, making his appearance in the room. 
“Seriously, you too?” 
“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” Spencer pointed out meekly, peeking up at you, his red face matching yours. 
You giggled at the revelation, things would definitely be different now, and maybe for the better. 
2K notes · View notes
justimajin · 3 years
Text
Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.5
➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut
↳ (4.5k), Arranged Marriage AU
➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.
➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, nightmare depictions, discussions surrounding death 
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gif credit.
➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 19 
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The room is pitch black. 
Your feet are submerged within a pool of translucent water, a light breeze nipping at your features. Taking a cautious step ahead, your eyes hesitantly glance around. 
“Hello?” You call out, your voice morphing into an echo that faintly bounces off the walls. You turn to look behind you with no avail, “Hello?” 
Silence greets you once again. A deep frown marrs your features as goosebumps begin to rise on your skin. Your hand comes up to hug your cold arm, and it leaves a red handprint in his stead. 
You involuntarily flinch at the sight, but that’s when your eyes narrow below you and you finally notice the water contaminating with red.  
Nearly stumbling back, it splatters all over your pearl dress, drenching it within moments. No matter how much you splash around and kick it away, it caresses your feet, like a hand clasping onto your limb. 
“W-What?” Your breathing grows thin, a hard knot constricting around your throat. A flash of red passes by the corner of your eyes, and your gaze snaps up, only to be struck by horror. 
Taehyung is clad in the colour, his back facing you. Although you can’t catch a glimpse of his face, the eerie feeling curling in the pit of your stomach is telling enough. 
“T-Taehyung…?” He doesn’t turn to face you, but you still plead, “W-Where am I?” 
“Why are you asking him?”
You whirl around in an instant, knees on the verge of giving out. 
Eunjoo stands before you in the sea of crimson, but unlike you who's been tangled in it, she’s completely drenched. There’s a familiar butter knife in her hands and you dryly swallow, chest tightening. 
She reaches out, as if wanting to hand you the knife. You viciously shake your head, your trembling hands raising in defense. 
That’s when you catch sight of them, eyes transfixing on the drenched nightmare in the flesh. 
“No….” You whisper, desperately attempting to rub away the scarlet residue from your hands. It clings uncomfortably close and despite all your efforts, it’s tainted your skin permanently. 
“N-No, please…..” An overflow of tears accumulate in your eyes, voice cracking. You glance up petrified, orbs practically begging for help. 
Eunjoo stares back at you with hollow pupils, disappointment crossing her features. 
Your body quivers in fear as the scarlet begins to only spread, bleeding through your skin and consuming you entirely. 
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Eyes flashing open, you wake up in bed with a sharp gasp. Your chest is heaving, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat uncomfortably clinging to your body. Placing a heavy hand over your racing heart, your irises carefully roam around, dawning upon you that you were simply in your bedroom and not on the verge of drowning. 
You swallow hard as your trembling hand fists the material of your shirt. You wonder how many times it’s been now, how many times those images have managed to enter your head and threatened to split it in half; a familiar wretched scent wafting through the air as sanguine hands ultimately tug you back. 
Slowly sliding off the bed, you wipe away the excess water that’s collecting in the corner of your eyes, and dart your vision over to the large couch in the corner of the room. 
Eyes shut and arms loosely crossed, Namjoon carries a peaceful smile on his lips through his unconsciousness. It contradicts the horror that’s been replaying in your head, keeping you awake even in pitch black and willing to drive you insane. A tired sigh passes by the seam of your lips, gripping the sheets underneath you as your brows snap together. 
Despite your desperate attempts, you’re not even granted a lick of sleep during that night. 
***
Time is an illusion. 
It would pass slowly within the walls of the Kim household ‒ that much you knew ‒ but now it was playing with you, deluding your thoughts into thinking that the loss of it was natural when in fact, you can’t even recall the last time you’ve gotten a decent night of rest. 
The days flow by too quickly. The nights take too long to end. And you are dangling in between them, waiting for the nightmare to be over. 
A low yawn leaves Namjoon’s lips, and he forces himself up with a grunt, rubbing his parched throat in dismay. Rising from his makeshift bed, he nearly stumbles in his attempt to leave the room, hoping to retrieve something to ease his thirst. 
That’s when he hears it, so faint but enough for his keen ears to pick up on. 
He spins around with a frown, tired eyes suddenly widening at the sight of you twisting around and convulsing in bed. 
Approaching cautiously, he notices the way your shoulders are quivering and the deep breaths that escape your lips by the minute, almost as if your lungs were on the verge of giving up. 
Namjoon lowers himself onto the bed, whispering in a soft tone, “Y/N…” 
You continue to shift around, sweat forming at your temples. Namjoon places a hand against your shoulder, gently shaking you. 
“Y/N….” Your breathing abruptly escalates, and he tries again, this time quicker, “Y/N‒” 
You suddenly grab onto him and Namjoon jolts back, eyes completely awake. Fisting the material of his shirt within your hands, a handful of broken words leaves your lips. 
“P-Please….” Voice wavering, water begins to form within the corners of your shut eyes, “Please....j-just leave me alone.…” 
“Please….” You plead again. Namjoon takes your hand that has a hold of him and carefully loosens your grip. However the moment he does, you nearly slump down into arms, appearing exhausted beyond belief. 
A deep crease resides between his brows, and he peers behind him, staring at the bedroom door. After a prolonged pause, he turns back to you, a pang of distress beginning to spread through his irises. 
With a swift tug, your blanket is raised, and it’s not long before he nestles himself in, keeping his arms wrapped around your quivering form. Your head rests against his chest, faintly hearing the soft rhythmical beats of his heart. 
Gazing at you once more, Namjoon places his head against the pillow and closes his eyes, plunging into a deep sleep. 
***
As if caught up in the middle of a daze, you wake up the next morning with empty irises and a pale complexion. You barely pay any attention to how the blanket covering you has been ruffled and messy, or how there’s a  light layer of warmth that emits from only one side of the bed. 
You spend the rest of dawn aimlessly eating breakfast, something you quickly scraped together. Lingering in the kitchen for too long has your hands trembling, so you opt out for taking your meal in your bedroom as familiar whispers echo around you. 
You’re in the midst of consuming your food when the door creaks open. The sound of light footsteps, shuffling cautiously against the ground doesn’t instantly register with your ears and it’s only at the second call of your name with a jerk to your shoulder that you jolt. 
The food splatters onto the ground, creating a mess that ultimately breaks you out of your stupor. 
“O-Oh, my bad.” A light chuckle leaves you, but it’s too strained. “I-I’ll clean up.” 
You aimlessly glance around, all while Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t leave you once. There’s something indecipherable brewing in his eyes as he remains kneeling in place, before he rises immediately, striding over to you. 
His hand clasps around your wrist, halting your actions.
“Leave it.” 
You peer at him puzzled, but it doesn’t take him another second to intertwine his fingers within yours, heading towards the door. Reluctantly following behind him, you nearly stumble when he swings by one particular corridor, before reaching a certain door. 
It’s one you recognize right away, one that offers a gush of wind when it’s opened, an ocean of flowers welcoming you instantly. 
The scenery draws perplexment out of you, yet the open breeze spawns effortless air into your lungs, making you almost feel like you can finally breathe again. Your eyelids are on the verge of fluttering close as your shoulders drop, but you keep them astray once a lingering question conjures in your thoughts ‒ the very reason you’re here. 
Whirling around with furrowed brows, you’re taken aback by Namjoon’s heavy gaze, wide eyes recognizing the scrutinizing manner his orbs take up. 
You flush from the immediate attention, “W-Why did you bring me here?” 
Cautiously peering up, you’re baffled at how something seems to ease within his irises, the familiar warmth you were accustomed to spreading through. 
“You looked like you needed some fresh air.” 
You tilt your head to the side with a frown from the comment, wondering why he would have such a thought.
A deep silence washes over, the sound of the wind simply echoing as you peer above the sky and Namjoon surveys the flowers beneath his shoes. You’re not quite sure if you should say something in rebuttal or as a counteract, but you don’t ponder over it for long.
Namjoon is the first to clear his throat, disrupting the lack of words. 
“Why….” His voice is low, close to a whisper, “Why don’t you go back?”
Your head snaps around to face him, eyes wide, “W-What?” 
He clarifies, louder this time, “Why don’t you go back home?” 
“I-I….” You struggle for an answer, one question only spilling, “Why?” 
For a moment, Namjoon hesitates. You catch onto it right away, the reluctance evident on his features. 
“The burden of my future rests on your shoulders because of our marriage…” 
He sucks in a sharp inhale and at this point, your heart is beginning to viciously thud against your ribcage. It worsens when Namjoon abruptly glances up, staring at you flat in the eyes. 
“And you don’t seem to be happy.” It’s not an observation, but a mere fact. 
“I‒….” 
“Think about it. For as long as you want. And if‒” 
There’s an ocean of distraught lingering in his pupils, “And if there’s a need to divorce..... Then let me know.” 
His brows knit together, and his jaw tenses, lips settling into a firm line. He appears to be patiently waiting, waiting for you to speak up about your thoughts. 
You dip into a brief silence before answering and when you do, your voice cracks. 
“I-I can’t go back…” 
Namjoon’s brows shoot up, “What?” 
A somber smile surfaces on you, “My parents, my family,” You quickly clarify, “They won’t let me come back.” 
Namjoon still looks just as baffled, “What? But how can they‒” A lightbulb immediately goes off in his mind, voice falling into a whisper, “The union….”
You robotically nod and it finally dawns to him that what has occurred between the two of you isn’t a simple marriage. 
It is a union of two families ‒ two families that would have otherwise been at each other’s necks hadn’t it been for some type of peace offering. 
And if you were to go back, it would mean the delicacy holding this union together would ultimately crumble, creating chaos unlike no other. 
Namjoon scowls as he spits out the cutting words. 
“Of course it’s about the union at the end of the day.” 
The sudden change in his tone results in your head snapping up, a gasp nearly leaving your lips. Namjoon meets your gaze, suddenly very aware of your eyes on him. 
“Do you remember how you told my parents the reason that you didn’t want to get involved in your father’s business?” You nod at the abrupt inquiry, and Namjoon sighs, a bitter smile lining his lips, “I don’t think I ever told you the reason why I got involved.” 
Namjoon chuckles at your instant curiosity, “You’d be surprised, it’s quite on par with the reasoning behind our marriage.” 
“When I first found out about my family’s business, from my father, my view of it was similar to yours,” He gestures to you, “Indifferent, apathetic, but at the end of the day, what I thought didn’t really matter.”
“I sort of fell into it initially,” He explains, “Some of it because of interest, some of it because of skill, but a lot of it was because of obligation.”
Your eyes meet his silently. 
“I was given the title of heir even though I just wanted to help out my family, an opinion I still believe to be my first mistake.” 
“They’ve convinced me that this business needs me to survive and prosper, but ultimately,” He laughs, but it isn’t out of amusement, “I'm just a tool.”
Your heart rate nearly stops, breathing stilling completely. 
Namjoon peers in your direction and you attempt to paint an attentive expression onto your features, but it’s harder to do so this time around. 
Instead, there’s a certain anguish in your eyes that reflect his own, almost as if he were gazing into a mirror. 
As the breeze picks up, he eventually leads you away from the garden once you’ve had your ample intake of fresh air. Heading back into the house, you silently follow behind, sight glued to his back.
In the midst of your hushed trailing, the words vividly return back to you. 
"You're a tool now, Y/N. From here on, you must follow our every instruction and order."
***
Namjoon stands outside of your bedroom door, patiently waiting for you to finish walking up the stairs. The moment you’re on the same ground level as him, he warmly smiles. 
“I have to head work now, urgent duty calls….” 
You solemnly nod, “‒But I’ll be back before night falls, in case y-you know....uh, you need me….”
Your eyes instantly light up, like a deer caught up in headlights. Namjoon teeter totters from side to side, a rapid flush suddenly rising onto his skin. You ponder over its cause, but the thought immediately dissipates once he cups your cheek with his hand. 
If your eyes were wide before, then they were tremendously wide now. 
Namjoon leans forward, pressing a soft kiss right at the centre of your forehead. You are completely frozen during the interaction, mouth falling agape as he takes a step back. 
You’re once again his mirror, but alongside the rapid hue of scarlet dusting on your cheeks, you have the addition of your skin tingling from the contact, breaths becoming caught within your throat.
His flush has deepened considerably, and he laughs, as if trying to ward off any lingering embarrassment. He lingers for a moment, like he was debating on whether or not to leave, before ultimately remembering that he was supposed to be at work soon. 
As Namjoon departs, your vision remains on his back, following his descent down the stairs. Once he’s clearly gone, you spin around, hands finding the steel knob of your bedroom’s door. 
You freeze for a moment, staring down at the door handle for what seems like an eternity. Reaching up, your other hand softly touches the tip of your forehead, right where his lips brushed across. 
For some strange reason, it’s like someone had released a bundle of butterflies and they were all fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. 
***
The room is murky, a large shadow casting itself over the lavish bed. Soft knocks resonate from one particular corner, the plastic container balancing within your hands as you remain crouched down in position. 
You patiently wait for a moment, the correspondence going silent. An exhausted sigh escapes your lips, legs beginning to slump down and spread out across the ground. 
There no longer seems to be a spark of urgency in your actions anymore, obligation taking over more than necessary. You wonder if it’s because you’re simply tired, tired of running away from a nightmare that has become your reality. 
For a brief moment, your head comfortably lulls back against the wall and you allow your eyes to flutter shut. 
Static echoes immediately. 
You jolt up in alarm, vision dazed until it lands upon the box. You lift it in your hands, freezing for a moment. 
Be on guard. 
The corner of your mouth twitches and you unplug the cord within an instant. The static dies out and you bring your knees closer to your head, fisting your dangling locks with your hands. 
Although the words seem to carry concern and distress, you know you’re not far too naive to understand the underlying implication. 
You need a plan. 
But the problem is your mind is completely void of anything. Clouds have overtaken the place where there should be buzzing electricity, the task being as easy as knowing the back of your palm. 
For a split second ‒ you ponder if you actually have it in you to figure something out to get back on track. 
Fisting your hands into balls, you slowly rise from the ground, taking a second glance at the container before packing it away. A heavy exhale escaping your lips, the dismay rooting deep in your eyes. 
***
You slide down the layering staircase, the mute atmosphere of the residence making you fidget your hands around. Vision landing onto a nearby window, you peer outside, noticing the white flowers getting drenched by the heavy rain. You sight lands beneath them, pools of translucent water beginning to slowly collect. 
You avert your eyes immediately, hands slightly quivering. A shaky deep breath escapes and your lips press into a tight line, down-turning into a frown. 
The front door comes slamming open. 
You spin around, shoulders instantly spike up and a hand pressing against your chest. Namjoon stands before you, nearly drenched from the downpour outside. 
However, that’s not where your sight lands. It’s the frightful expression he holds that draws your attention more. 
Swallowing hard, you take careful steps towards him.  
“Y-Y/N…” His hands latch onto your arms right away, eyes rapidly flickering. 
You tilt your head to the side, appearing as puzzled as you can. Yet that’s easier said than done, and you hope Namjoon doesn’t notice the way your hands are trembling and how stiff your shoulders have become. 
 “I-I…..” 
You faintly touch his shoulder, “Namjoon, what is it?” 
Namjoon’s gaze meets yours and you hold your breath, attempting to brace yourself as much as possible. 
“....Taehyung’s been killed.” 
Your heart rate shoots up to an alarming rate, and you fight back the urge to cower away from him. There’s no excuse for you to be reacting this way since after all, the information he presents isn’t new knowledge at all. 
You’ve been waiting for this. 
Eunjoo has been reported missing, and Taehyung is nowhere to be found either. 
The latter was presumed to be occupied with business, on an urgent trip of some sorts that led to his absence. 
But you know that such a tale can’t be woven with evidence. 
The next question that sits on the tip of your tongue makes your heart want to burst, yet it has to be asked regardless. 
“W-Who would do such a thing?” 
“I’m not too sure.” He presses a hand against his temples, “They found the corpse nearby here, but it was barely identifiable...almost like he was set aflame.” 
You swallow hard. 
Namjoon deeply sighs, shaking his head, “An investigation has opened up so hopefully we’ll be able to find out soon.” 
You visibly relax, shoulders slumping down. There’s a crease between his brows, and he appears lost in thought as you glance at him in confusion. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“It’s nothing, just‒” He shrugs and fumbles around, “Eunjoo went missing around the same time Taehyung was killed, so I’m just wondering if there’s a possibility of the two instances being connected.” 
Your eyes immensely enlarge as you morph into a block of ice, pupils fixated on Namjoon. He was an extremely keen thinker based on his profile and you wonder if that particular trait of his was going to ultimately be the one following your downfall. 
Namjoon turns to you, “That brings me to another matter‒what do you think about hiring someone to replace Eunjoo for the time being?” 
“H-Huh?” You blink, noticing him waiting for your response. A hard knot is starting to restrict around your throat and the longer you stand beside him, the more your chest has begun to painfully tighten. “Uh, sure‒yes, that’s a good idea.” 
Namjoon nods with a smile, patting your shoulder before heading into a room on the ground level. The moment he’s out of sight, you escape right away, entering your bedroom within seconds. 
Once the door is tightly locked behind you, your trembling hands reach out to cover your face. Hot tears roll down your flushed skin, your knees giving in as you slide down the wall, collapsing against the wall. 
***
Sunshine floods into the house past the curtains, a bright piercing light that only seems to sting at your swollen eyes. You descend slowly down the stairs, careful not to succumb down to fatigue and stumble on your way down. 
The moment you reach the bottom, your eyes widen and transfix with horror. 
Namjoon is seated on a couch, the remaining three shareholders surrounding them. They seem to be in some sort of deep conversation until Namjoon catches sight of you, a warm look residing within his eyes. 
“Did you sleep well?” He wonders as you draw near, pupils sweeping through the shareholders expressions. They hold an air of both distraught and somberness, but there’s something brewing underneath that nearly has you staggering back. 
Anger. 
Motionlessly, you nod in response and Namjoon gestures for you to sit down with him. No one speaks a word against him for your inclusion and for a moment, you wonder if it’s worse to have it that way. 
“Taehyung left during the night after you returned from escorting Y/N to your driver.” There’s a sheet of paper in front of Yoongi, containing a range of scribbles and bullet points that have obstructed circles and multiple question marks around them. It gives you an inkling to the conversation that was being held before you entered, unease stirring within the pit of your stomach. 
“He had a gun with him.” Hoseok explains, brows intensely furrowed as his eyes scrutinize all over the notes, “Or at least, that’s what the servants at his mansion said.” 
“Why on earth would he need a gun?” Yoongi whispers, shaking his head at the information. You uncomfortably shift in your seat, hands beginning to fist the soft cloth of your skirt. 
“Do you think it’s because he thought someone might try to kill him?” Jungkook immediately says, glancing back and forth with wide eyes. 
“Or maybe because he needed to kill someone.” Namjoon darkly retorts, locking eyes with Yoongi in an instant. Something sparks within his irises, and he rapidly scribbles down on the sheet of paper. 
It’s almost like someone has wrapped their hands around your throat, cutting off your air supply with every word they pronounce. You attempt to keep a face of naivety and confusion on, acting more like an innocent doll than anything. 
Yet there’s murmurs of your hands tightening on instinct, or the way your eyes can’t help but dart around manically ‒ simple things that glitch out the more you try to repress them. 
As Namjoon and Yoongi ponder over if Taehyung has made any new enemies recently, you decide it would be best to look for a route of the situation, something meek that you can excuse yourself with and that Namjoon wouldn’t even bat an eyelash over. However that’s when your eyes come into contact with foreign ones, and the glitches are on the verge of magnifying by tenfold. 
There’s a face before you that you haven’t encountered beyond, round with a wise smile and eyes kind that reflect the desire to be useful more than anything. Your breath grows thin within an instant and the urge to stagger away hits you. 
“Did you want something to eat, Miss Y/N?” She tilts her head to the side, humbly offering her services. “I can make some tea with tarts for you if you’d like.” 
The fabric beneath your fingers is tightened until your knuckles turn white and you remain frozen, simply staring at her as if her words made no sense. 
Hoseok suddenly speaks to Namjoon and the sound of their interaction jolts you back, mind running in alarm as you hurriedly rise from your seat. 
There’s a bittersweet smile on your lips, “No thank you, I should be fine.” 
She nods understanding and then bows, but you easily catch the look of distress she holds from your refusal. You pay her no mind as you scramble away, heading straight into your room. 
From afar, you notice the look in the corner of Namjoon’s eyes as you scurry away, a linger of concern painfully radiating in his irises. 
***
Namjoon has completely lost track of time. 
He can’t recall moments his mind wasn’t preoccupied with Taehyung’s investigation, the reminder of the day sending him through a loop as he constantly tried to come up with conclusions with Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook. Even when he offered to temporarily halt their actions and look at the case with fresh eyes later, his suggestion was shot down and refused nonetheless. 
He pinches his eyes together with his fingers, a deep sigh slipping out from the seams of his lips. Blinking a couple of times, his sight lands on the door to your shared bedroom, thoughts immediately arising about you. 
He hasn’t seen you all day, and the new maid tells him that you’ve been in your room for hours since he encountered you this morning. The news about the entire mayhem is already too much for him, so he can’t help but wonder what’s swirling in your mind about it. 
Entering the room carefully, he already notices you lying asleep on the bed as he quietly heads towards the couch, prepared to collapse down at any second. 
The sound of sheets ruffling immediately catches on to his keen ears. 
His head snaps up, gaze landing on your shaking form. Drawing closer, he notices the sheets have been considerably tousled, and that your breathing is coming out alarmingly erratic, as if you were struggling to breath. 
Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to occupy the side of the bed opposite to you, his arms wrapping around your form like it was second nature to him. However in the midst of his actions, he doesn’t notice that your eyes have fluttered open, freshly awake from the ongoing nightmare. 
To his complete surprise, you roll over and tug him closer. 
195 notes · View notes
toomanyrobins2 · 3 years
Text
a little birdie told me pt. 4
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Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business.”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader
Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, mentions of forced marriage, sex, mentions of alcohol abuse
series masterlist // next part
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It had been a little over a week since the dramatic return of Y/N. She had been hiding out at her childhood home and was on the mend. Her confidence was slowly returning and she started to resemble her sarcastic self. Touch was still a bit of an issue after her first day back. Loud noises made her jump and nightmares had come and gone throughout the night. Pepper had tried to get her to talk about what she had gone through, but Y/N had refused to share after that day in the bathroom. Tony had stayed true to his word and, after a week, she was summoned to the Ivory. She looked a lot better than before but still had to dress strategically and cover some bruises with concealer. When she arrived, her father wasn’t the only one there. George Barnes was waiting too, leaving against the large, antique wooden desk that was the centerpiece of the room. When she turned, she saw that Peter, Steve, and Bucky were sitting on one of the leather couches. Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, all of the men wanted in on this reprimand. The Barnes patriarch walked forward and scanned Y/N’s face. He noted the mottled bruising covered with a heavy concealer, “I can’t believe this.” She took a step back, wanting to put some distance between them. Thankfully for her, he stayed where he was, “What the hell happened to you?”
“That’s the best you’ve got after 3 years, George? Maybe a ‘Hi, Birdie’?”
“Hi, Y/N,” he deadpanned, “Now, answer my question."
She shrugged, “Got bored. Decided I should visit.”
“Visit? You run away into the night before your 18th. No calls, no messages for three years, and now you’re just ‘visiting’… And, according to my children, you show up looking like you got run over by a car.”
She clicked her tongue and grinned at him, “You say the sweetest things.” Tony chuckled as he looked up to the ceiling, willing the universe to give him patience with his pain-in-the-ass daughter. She heard the three younger men on the couch trying not to laugh. If there was one thing everyone knew, it was that Y/N loved to mess with her godfather. George asked again what had happened. She seemed to weigh her options and went with her go-to: sarcasm, “Car accident.”
Tony snorted and went to pour himself a drink, leaving George to handle Birdie. “Cars don’t leave handprints on your neck. One more chance.” Y/N just stared at him defiantly, refusing to say a word. He slammed his fist on the desk, “Answer the question!” Y/N flinched at his raised voice and then grabbed her ribs as pain spiked through her torso. Steve was off the couch in a second, ignoring his adopted father, and wrapped an arm around her. George cursed under his breath when he saw their reaction. He ordered her to sit down in one of the chairs opposite Tony’s desk.
Steve crouched down in front of her and spoke softly, “Come on, Y/N. Who did this to you?”
“My boyfriend,” she knew what the next question was going to be, “I’m not telling you his name.”
George scrubbed a hand down his face and grabbed the drink Tony passed to him, “For fucks sake, Birdie, this is not a game.”
Y/N’s eyes blazed. She hated being spoken to as if she was a child. “Really? And here I thought my cracked ribs were the prize.” George’s jaw was clenched.
Tony laughed at her answer and settled behind his desk, “George, I think I need to speak to my daughter alone. Would you wait outside? Barton should be on his way after the call I left.” Y/N was left in the belly of the beast, alone. Tony steepled his finger, “You always did know how to piss him off.”
She smirked at him, “Well, you did raise me. Mom says kids are like sponges and I absorbed all of your personality traits.”
“So, have you decided whether you’re sticking around this time?
Y/N stumbled at the question and looked down at her hands, “I don’t have anywhere else to go, Dad.”
“I’m going to be harsh for a moment. You did well disappearing and you weren’t on anyone else’s radar. We had stopped looking for you. So I need to know, why come back if you needed to get away so badly?" She felt the breath leave her lungs at the harsh truth. They had stopped looking for and probably didn’t want her back.
Her heart felt like it was stuck in her throat, “I just want to feel safe again and that’s here.” Tony tried to pull more details of her ‘rough situation’ from her, but she rolled her eyes and gestured at her face, “I’m sure you can guess what went on.”
“Your neck looked like one of your old art projects,” He took a deep breath, “You hurt a lot of people when you left, Birdie. We looked for you and it killed people when I told them to stop.” He swirled his drink and didn’t speak for a moment, “I’m going to offer you something I’ve never offered anyone else. If ever you decide you want out, I’ll let you go. No questions asked. However, this is a one time deal. You leave again, I won’t be able to welcome you back.” Y/N couldn’t believe it and she just stared at him. He walked out from behind his desk, pulling her into a hug, “Now, I can stop being the boss and just be your dad instead.” He led her to the door.
When it swung open, they were greeted with a unique sight. Bucky had his hand wrapped around the collar of a man’s shirt, with Nat and Steve trying to separate them. Becca and her father were shouting at each other, but they all fell silent when the door opened. Everyone was staring at Y/N, who wanted the ground to swallow her up. She turned to Becca, “Can we get out of here?” Her friend nodded and quickly kissed the guy that had been fighting with Bucky. Y/N realized that it must be her friend’s fiance. The three women left quickly, avoiding the group. The minute they were out of sight, all four men turned their attention on Stark. All of them had questions and Tony just walked into his office and poured himself another drink.
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