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literaila · 8 months ago

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remembering

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru has a bad day

warnings: canon angst, sad satoru, worried reader, etc.

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year five.

satoru has been sitting on the couch for over an hour, probably. he's been staring at the wall and he hasn't even been thinking, really, but remembering.

today is a bad day. that was clear enough when he woke up with a headache, the other half of his bed empty--because you'd been gone that past few days on a mission somewhere satoru can't remember the name of.

and today was a bad day when he took megumi out on his own mission, surveying the area for anything weak and small, and the boy couldn't manage to summon his shikigami for some unknown reason.

and it was a bad day when megumi asked why can't you do everything for us? when he complained the whole way home and said i don't want to do this. i don't want to be--

today's just a bad day.

and it was a bad day exactly six years ago, when suguru left. and it's still bad now because satoru is still alone.

even though you came home a couple of hours ago and have been messing around with the kids since.

you didn't say anything about his mood at dinner, but satoru knows that you can feel it. he can feel it--the looming, the storm. he can feel his own muscles shaking beneath his skin like they're ready to burst.

he can feel it every time his heart contracts, and every time his heart remembers that it has no purpose. that he's just a man; if only that.

and honestly--he's a lucky person. he knows that.

but he doesn't feel lucky today.

and he's been sitting on the couch, staring at the wall, for far too long. his eyes almost burn. it can't be tears though, because satoru isn't upset. it can't be tears because he doesn't cry. maybe he hasn't been blinking.

maybe he's already dead, floating in a hell designed just for him.

god, he hates being alone.

it's when he thinks this that you walk into the room, slightly bouncing, a fresh reprieve from everything else.

satoru manages a small smile at you.

“hey,” you say to him, voice soft and sweet as you walk over. but there's a question in the word because satoru knows you’ve been waiting for him. just like you always do. “you weren’t in your room. what are you doing?”

but you don’t give him enough time to respond—not that he was going to—before your leg brushes against his. you've reached the other side of the room in almost an instant, or maybe satoru's just making things up.

your hands go to his face, soft and warm, brushing against skin that satoru wants to scrub dry. “you tired?” you ask him, rubbing at the spot under his eye.

you're standing between his legs, just a bit taller than him like this, staring at him so intently that it feels cruel. satoru's face fades into something neutral--something lost. he doesn't want to talk to you like this.

it's simple when you begin to climb on top of him, hands using his shoulders to keep yourself steady. you wrap your legs around his torso, almost like you're kneeling against him, and then your hands move, playing with his hair.

“no,” he mumbles, not looking at you.

he doesn't think that he can stand your eyes right now. or your heart, or your voice. there's never been a moment where he's wanted you to move away from him, but the prickling feeling under his skin is almost instinctual.

satoru has spent his life keeping people away, blocking them from ever reaching him, and it's almost infuriating that he can't do that to you right now.

that he doesn't really want to.

you're not even that close, and still. the feeling of you relaxing against him increases his hesitation tenfold.

should he pull you closer or push you away?

are you safer falling against the floor, or into him?

satoru doesn't know. he doesn't know anything, really. suguru would tell him that if he was here now.

but he's not, satoru thinks, and his mood darkens once again.

still, you're smiling at him like you know he’s lying. “how’d your thing with megumi go? he told me that you said you thought he was improving,” you nudge him, “were you trying to make him feel better?”

satoru gives in and brushes a hand across your face, moving hair away from your eyes. “he’s good.”

“wow. ‘good,’” you shake your head. “such glowing remarks for your only son. you’re a great teacher, you know? maybe next you'll explain the ranking system to him."

“i thought you already did that.”

“i'm kidding, satoru,” you smile at him, tilting your head. and then you frown, and the world spins. “you okay?”

his heart falters. satoru hates lying to you. “yeah, i’m fine.”

“you’ve got wrinkles,” you say and smooth the furrow in his brow. “what’s up?”

“nothing.”

“you know that you’re a terrible liar?”

satoru sighs, he attempts a smile, but it's futile because he doesn't have one, right now. and he should be happy that you're here--he should feel like clinging to you, sleeping right next to you like he's wanted to for days--but he doesn't.

and maybe that's worse than anything else.

how ridiculous would suguru call him now? when he's got you right where he's always wanted you, right there in front of him and he can't even do anything?

how hard would he laugh at satoru?

“hey,” you say, a bit serious. you give him a look. “you can talk to me.”

“i know.”

“did something happen?”

“no.”

“was it megumi? he didn’t say anything—“

“nothing happened.”

“well, then what’s up?”

“nothing. i’m fine. i’m good.”

you've always been able to see through him, always known how he felt before he could. and he likes that, usually. he likes that you understand him, that you care.

he should be basking in it. in you, in your sweet smile and simple composure. you're a pillar against him, strong and sure, and satoru feels like he's suffocating.

how can you act so normal right now? today?

“you’re good?” you repeat, not a question. “you look…”

satoru shakes his head, he looks towards the floor but nothing has changed. suguru still hasn't come back and his carpet is still white. “are you bullying me right now?”

“no,” you say defensively. usually, it would be a joke, but it's like you can tell that his ego is already bruised. “i was going to say handsome.”

“sure.”

“satoru…” you’ve got a frown on. “what’s wrong?”

“like i said, nothing.”

“will you tell me? please?”

“there’s nothing to tell.”

“if somethings wrong i want—“

“can you just drop it?” his voice is hard, rough. it feels like he just swallowed dirt. satoru can tell that he's on the verge of breaking--falling to pieces under your whims and your charms--and he doesn’t want to tell anyone anything.

especially not you and especially not when you look like that. when you're one of the only good things he has. when he could so easily destroy you.

satoru swallows.

he knows he’s just ruined your mood. he knows that he shouldn’t be short with you, shouldn’t avoid or eyes or pretend like he doesn’t love it when you sit in his lap.

but currently, he would rather feel nothing, empty, than anything else. he would rather feel like bursting under the weight of his power than upset, than sick with himself.

if you keep asking him… he’ll give you an answer.

and it won’t be one you want.

“i—“ you pause, observing his face. you’ve lost the teasing in your eyes, the clarity on your face. unfortunately, satoru can feel it as you tense. “okay. you don’t have to tell me.”

he nods but doesn’t answer. he should say thank you, but he’s not grateful.

just a little more, he almost pleads, keep going.

but you won’t because he asked you not to. because you’re better than him, and you flinch away from conflict like it’ll bruise you.

“i, um, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to push.”

he sighs again. “it’s fine.”

you bite your lip, and satoru knows that you want to say something—ask something—but can’t. he can almost feel the words on the tip of your tongue, begging to come out.

there is a point. and a cause, and significance too.

no, there's not.

still, you try again, straightening on his lap. you mess with the hair by his ear. “did tsumiki tell you about her science fair? it’s in a couple of weeks.”

“no.”

“she wants to do a lemon circuit.”

“why?”

you shrug. “lemons are cool.”

“are they?” he asks, and it’s almost a joke, but it lacks the warmth of his voice. it lacks his amusement, any care.

“uh, yeah.”

satoru wants to smile at you, but it still feels impossible. his voice feels small, and if he says anything else it won't be loud enough for you to hear.

he wants so desperately to just give in to you. to shake himself out of this.

but when he tries, he meets a wall of his own creation, the same moment over and over.

he wishes he could give into this, your prodding, your smiles, but he can’t.

and then, so softly, you ask, “do you want me to stop talking?”

satoru exhales. “no.”

he doesn't know what he wants.

“okay. do you want me to get off?”

you're so arrogant.

“no.”

you tuck your chin in. “are you lying to me, satoru?”

satoru looks away, towards the wall. towards a past he can't manage to erase no matter how hard he tries. “no.”

“i can leave you alone,” you whisper, “if you want me to.”

“i don’t want you to.”

“if you need space, that’s fine.”

“i don’t.”

“okay.”

satoru nods. “okay.”

a moment passes when satoru's chest is tight, his breath short and his body completely at will. he can't do anything right now, not breathe, not move, not love you the way you deserve.

absolutely nothing.

and he wants to scream at this version of himself. he wants to pick himself up off of the floor just so he can kick himself back down. but there's no point to that, no point to any of it.

his eyes still burn. maybe he has something stuck in them.

“i just…” you start a moment later. it's almost like you know that he's falling apart like your body can feel it, even if you can't. the pause in your voice allows satoru's anger to surface.

he knows that you can't help it, really. but it doesn't matter.

“why can’t you leave this alone?” he asks, voice that same rough thing it was a minute ago. that cruel tone that he hopes will make you flinch away from him.

but it doesn't.

you frown. “because i’m worried about you. you’re not talking to me, and you won’t look me in the eye, and you seem upset.”

he looks you in the eye. he knows his face is hard, just a plane of rays and lines. “look, i'm fine.”

this time you look away first, away from the wrong version of him, shaking your head.

“you don’t need to worry about me," satoru tells you, lump in his throat. his hands are plastered to his side, but his fingers move in a familiar motion. he could burn himself down right now, he thinks, it would only take a moment.

“well, i’m going to. you think you’d have gotten used to it by now.”

satoru rolls his eyes.

you tilt your head so you can look at him more directly, get his eyes on your face. “i don’t know what to do, okay? you’re not like megumi or tsumiki, you don't tell me these things. and i can’t read your mind.”

“good.”

“why don’t you want to talk to me?” your face is soft, concerned.

satoru looks away. “i already told you, there’s nothing to talk about. i don’t even know why you’re worried.”

“because of that,” you say, pointing at him. "you keep doing that."

“doing what?”

“that. you’re being short with me.”

“i'm just talking,” satoru closes his eyes. "i thought that was what you wanted."

he can't see you, but he can feel it as you lean back, away from him, and your body relaxes--but in defeat. he wants to open his eyes and study you, observe you like some science experiment.

and he wants never to look at you again.

you breathe in, intentionally. “you don’t want me to talk to you, and you don’t want me to go away. what do you want, satoru? what can i do to help?”

“nothing…” he answers, whispering. “nothing,” he repeats.

because it's true. if you could go back and fix everything for him. if you could've been there this morning when he was still a person and not a corpse, still a father and yours instead of a boy you once knew--if you could've done that, he'd be fine.

or he wouldn't be. satoru doesn't even know anymore.

“i won’t ridicule you for whatever’s wrong,” you tell him, as a reassurance, just in case he wasn’t sure. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“wouldn’t you?”

“satoru.”

“look,” he sits up, holding onto you by your waist. your legs tighten around him. “there’s nothing wrong. you don’t need—i don’t want you to worry about me.”

“i can’t help it.”

“well, try.”

you look away, towards the door. satoru can see you contemplating the words--he can feel the argument, the call of hypocrisy. he would tell you to talk to him, he would say that you needed to get it off your chest.

somehow, satoru doesn't care. he'd rather be a hypocrite--cruel--and protect you from this than let you inside. let you mold in the core of him, rotten and unused.

you sigh, eventually, like you know what he's thinking. “do you want to go to bed?”

it takes a moment, but satoru nods. he’s not tired—he’s almost wide awake—but at least being asleep would be better than this.

at least if he can fall asleep and wake up then it won't be today anymore. then he won't have to think about all of this and try not to let the thoughts overflow out of him.

“okay,” you finally smile again, though it’s slight. almost unnatural on your face. “c’mon.”

you climb off of him, grabbing his hand to pull him up.

satoru lets you lead the way to his bedroom, focusing on the feeling of your smaller hand in his. you’re warm, and satoru could reach up and feel your pulse.

maybe he should. he’s not even sure if he’s alive right now.

but when you reach for his door handle he stops, shaking your hand from his.

it’s almost unconscious. his body knows what he wants.

he immediately feels the cold, but there’s no going back now. he can't grab your hand and pretend it was an accident, satoru can't go back to being the person who falls asleep in your arms, wrapped entirely around you.

he just can't.

you turn to look at him, tilting your head in question.

"can i--" he stops, swallowing. this time, the burning in his eyes is different.

"what?" you ask, softly.

"could--i think i just need some space. tonight."

"okay, i can--" you pause, eyes widening. "oh, you..." you look towards his door, back to him. satoru watches the realization hit your face, the pain.

he wants to look away but he can't.

"is that okay?" he wonders, voice smaller, softer. it feels almost natural.

"yeah, that's fine," you nod your head immediately, too fast, too sharp. "that's totally fine. whatever you need."

satoru leans back. "are you sure?"

"yeah, satoru, of course. i'll just, um--" you shake your head, now, backing away. and then you sidestep him, trying to get away as fast as possible. "i'll see you in the morning, okay? just... you know, get me, if there's anything. if you need anything, i mean. if..." you stop there.

satoru's heart feels rotten at the bewildered look on your face, the sudden fear in your eyes.

but he only nods. he's not allowed to change his mind.

and when you begin to back away, down the hall to your room, satoru doesn't open the door. he doesn't move.

he watches you as you run far away from him, your body tense and your back turned towards him.

if you want to kill me, then kill me, satoru hears. there would be a point to that.

he stares at the space where you were even after you're gone, shut away behind your door, not having bothered to look back at him. he waits like you might come back. like he wants you to.

and then, as if he's completely okay, satoru opens his door.

when he closes it, the sound echoes in his core.

satoru lays in bed for hours.

he'd forgotten how difficult it was to fall asleep without someone there beside him.

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patriwoso · 11 months ago

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mami and old mama

alexia putellas x jenni hermoso x child!reader

Alexia’s daughter reunites with Jenni at the World Cup, and reminds everyone of how much she loves her.

When Mami and Jenni broke up, you were very upset.

Jenni spent all her time at yours and mami's apartment. The change of routine didn't sit well with you.

No longer did you come home to Jenni cuddles on the couch. She didn't put you to bed or give you a bubble bath at night.

You didn't like this.

"Mami" You whine, one particular night a few days before you were set to leave for the world cup.

"Sí, bebita." She turns around and sits beside you on her bed.

"I see Jenni in the plane?"

Mami sighed, pulling your small body into her lap. "Sí" She told you for the hundredth time.

"Jenni will be on the plane, she'll be with us all the time in New Zealand."

"Good. I love Jenni." You tell her, leaning into the warmth of her body.

"I know you do."

When the world cup came around, you were beyond happy to see Jenni everyday again. And she was more than happy to have her little sidekick back.

After Mami got you dressed every morning, you'd head down for team breakfast.

"Jenni!" You gasp, running to stand beside her in the food line. "Look" You lift up your kangaroo stuffed animal you got in the airport.

"Wow! Have you given it a name?"

You think hard, looking at the small brown animal and wondering what you should name it.

"Bounce"

"Bounce?" She chuckles.

"Kangaroo bounce" You grin, holding her hand and leaning your head onto her thigh as you wait for breakfast.

"C'mon y/n" Mami taps your shoulder, not wanting to cause Jenni any hassle with your presence.

"No, I don't mind having her for a while. It's alright, Ale." The taller woman smiles, looking down at you and grinning.

"Only if you're sure."

"More than sure."

Jenni helps you to get your chosen breakfast foods onto your plate, as well as getting herself something to eat.

You chose a slice of toast, fruits and a sausage. Not a fan of breakfast so early in the day.

As Jenni carries your plate over to the table where Laia, Misa and Mariona sat, you put your hand on the back of her leg as she had no free hand to hold.

She makes you put your kangaroo down, Misa tells you that she can keep it safe on the window ledge beside her so it doesn't get dirty whilst you eat.

The goalkeeper takes it from you and props it up so it overlooks the table as you start your morning meal.

"Jenni please help" You hold up your sausage, wanting her to cut it up for you.

"Of course, princesa." She takes the meat and puts it back on your plate, using her knife to split it into smaller pieces.

"Gracias Ma-" You stop yourself from calling Jenni Mama, the name you were so used to saying in the years she lived in your home.

You don't look up at anyway, knowing they're sending glances your way, then to Alexia, then back to you.

More piece of fruit get shoved into your mouth to take the attention away, Mami Alexia having to remind you from the other side of the table to eat nicely.

After breakfast, the team were allowed a free morning, no team gym session until later in the day.

Mariona suggests a walk through a forest. Mami debates whether to take you or not but you beg and beg and beg and tell her you’ll be on your best behaviour and will be a good girl. She lets you go with them.

At first you have fun, dragging sticks with Laia and showing Misa flowers you find.

Jenni helps you do up your coat when it gets a bit cold, you hold her hand for a while as you walk.

“MAMI!” You cry, letting go of Jenni and running over to Mami Alexia.

“Tired” You put your arms up, hands doing grabby motions so she picks you up.

Mami picks you up and puts you on her hip.

You lay your head on her shoulder and grasp her collar in your hand as your eyes flutter closed.

The walk carries on a while, your swapped around between Mami and Jenni’s arms, Misa taking a turn too at one point when you weren’t awake enough to complain about it not being Mami or Mama’s arms.

The group decide to stop at some picnic tables close back to the car.

Mami cradles you against her chest. You’re pretty much dead to the world, suckling on your thumb to keep your soothed and calm.

They let you nap for a while as they drink coffee and try New Zealand snacks.

When you wake, your back in Jenni’s arms, giving Mami a rest.

You eyes open and you push your face into her chest, the light hurting your head.

“Sleepy girl, are you awake?” Jenni coos stroking your cheek with the back of her finger.

“Sí” You whisper, holding two of her fingers in your hand. “I sleep.”

“You can sleep again on the way back to the hotel pretty. C’mon.”

You refuse to walk, staying on Jenni’s hip as she carries you back to the parking lot.

Mami peppers your face with kisses and tries to take you from Jenni’s arms.

“No I stay.” You ask.

“You’re only going back in the car, mi bebita.” Mami promises.

“Stay with Mama, miss old mama lots” You look at Jenni with big eyes. She has a tear form in the corner of one of her own.

“Old mama can sit with you in the car.” Mami giggles softly.

You watch as she looks at Jenni, smiling softly and mouthing something which you can’t figure out.

“I love my mami and mama.” You speak up, putting a hand on each of their cheek and giggling.

“We love you too.” Mami kisses you, Mama dropping a few on your cheek also.

#woso #woso x reader #fcb femení #woso x imagine #fcb femeni #woso fic #espwnt #woso imagine #woso one shot #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x imagine

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sylusjinwoon · 6 months ago

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{ 178 }

darling.

yandere!sung jinwoo x bi!fem.reader x yandere!cha hae-in

warnings: violence; ooc hae-in and jinwoo, i’m so sorry.

dedicated to @starzgaze

{ i want to ruin our friendship; we should be lovers instead. }

anonymous said: Helloo!! I don't know if you're willing to do a request but I was thinking an Jinwoo x reader x cha hae in since the reader is bisexual (I can't blame the reader if she's attracted to both of them Because I am too HUHU) although they don't know that they're crushes where Yanderes this whole time KABSKAKSJ :>

once you finished organizing all the reports for the chairman, you hear the older man thanking you for your time as he allowed you to go home for the rest of the day. you smile at chairman go gunhee, reassuring him that it was no trouble helping him at all as you stepped out of his office with a bounce in your step.

lately, the appearance of high leveled gates had become far and few in between. there seemed to be more peaceful days piling on as the hunters and healers alike were given little to do during such a time.

and the cause of this sudden decrease in raids?

a competition between the two most powerful guilds in all of seoul, korea-

the hunters guild vs ahjin guild.

despite being good friends with two of the most prominent members of each guild, (hae-in and jinwoo, respectively), you hadn’t the slightest clue why they were so competitive.

regardless of their reasoning, neither you or your fellow hunters and healers complained. after all, they were doing a great service, making all these gates disappear while restoring peace back to the entire nation within mere days.

as you were heading out of the association building, you felt the hairs stand up at the back of your neck. you had a strange sensation of being watched. your heart was felt pounding with anticipation… and before you could turn around to face whoever was watching you-

the sudden scent of vanilla fills your senses, feeling cha hae-in running up to you while letting out a soft coo of your name. “hello… i’ve missed you!”

her sudden affection and desire to be close to you was a bit out of character from how she usually was, you knew that as a fact. before you ever transferred to korea’s hunter association branch, she was known as being standoffish and aloof, never once getting close to civilians or other hunters since she had such a sensitive sense of smell.

you knew about her mana sensitivities and kept your distance from her out of respect the moment you transferred. however, it all changes when she actually came face to face with you. a dreamy expression would paint her features, and she would come closer to you, literally sniffing at your blouse when she giggles and says, “you smell so good… like sweet cinnamon rolls… just so sugary sweet…”

her comment about the scent of you and your mana makes you feel flustered as you simply thanked her, which was the moment she had proclaimed herself as your best friend.

hae-in giggles while deeply inhaling your scent, basking in it for a few moment before clinging to you. “hey, how about we have another slumber party! it’ll be my treat!”

“huh? hae-in, we had one just a few days ago… are you not tired of seeing me?”

“not at all! come on, the gates haven’t been appearing as much thanks to how well i have been doing, and i want to spend more time with you.” hae-in giggles while clinging to your arm.

you join her in her laughter, actually not minding having so many slumber parties with her since it was quite fun. whether it be having a movie marathon, or gaming with her while enjoying takeout and snacks, you liked spending time with her… maybe even as more than friends.

as you smile back at hae-in and ask about what she would like to get as takeout, you were unaware of the almost victorious expression on her face, her eyes glowing a bright golden hue as she sneered back at the hunter with startling, purple eyes filled with envy.

{ … }

sung jinwoo had tried to kill cha hae-in many times, seeing as though she were the sole threat when it came to obtaining your heart.

but unfortunately for him, the woman was persistent and powerful in her own ways. when she felt threatened, even feeling the tiniest chance of being ripped away from you-

that was when her claws were revealed to him.

he clutches the sharp dagger in his hand, knowing that if he just aimed the weapon slightly to his left, then he would be able to pierce through hae-in’s skull-

however, he did not wish to traumatize you.

it was ultimately the love he had for you that stops him from going through with his plans of killing hae-in right then and there-

you, being as innocent as ever, were completely unaware of the ongoing war he and hae-in shared. ever since he first caught sight of you, accidentally bumping into you as he helped you gather your belongings and get you back on your feet-

jinwoo knew that he was a goner.

he spent countless days and even hours following you, knowing that placing his soldiers within your shadow wouldn’t be enough for him.

(it was never enough for him.)

taking advantage of his powers, he made it his life’s mission to remain ever so close to you, doing all that he could to woo you with various gifts while taking you out on various dates-

however, she would always get in the way of him.

each time he purchases a nice bouquet for you, the next minute, he would find it sabotaged and ripped to shreds.

each time he would try to speak to you and ask you out on a date, hae-in would appear at the most inappropriate times and steal you away from him-

a feat that always manages to make his blood burn with hatred for cha hae-in.

he tried to get rid of her; tried numerous times to rip her heart out so that she could never breathe the same air as you ever again-

but he couldn’t do it.

the woman was far too strong-

and her love for you matched with his.

(a fact that he had to admit and accept in a rather begrudging manner.)

he hated how natural and easy it was for hae-in to get closer to you. being a naturally born woman meant that she was able to steal your attention under the guise of being your “sole best friend.”

whereas jinwoo had to use his shadow soldier’s eyes to watch you sleep-

that damn woman had the pleasure of sharing her bed with you each time she held a ‘sleepover.’ and jinwoo could feel such feelings of envy filling him to the brim as he had to bite down on his tongue to contain his rage, nearly tasting the coppery sensation of his blood from how close he was to biting his tongue off-

but he digressed.

despite all odds, sung jinwoo and cha hae-in were evenly matched-

and if he couldn’t obtain you by getting rid of her, then he’d just have to use the element of surprise…

{ … }

you were currently in hae-in’s apartment, laughing while telling stories with her as she began to paint your nails.

to be honest, she was awful at painting your nails, with each paint stroke of polish leaving an obvious streak against the skin surrounding your cuticles. when she finishes with applying the polish on your last nail, you had to fight back a giggle.

“ah, it seems as though i found the gorgeous and powerful hae-in’s weakness… nail polish.”

weak words of protests fall from her lips, but internally she was screaming with unbidden joy. you called her gorgeous! she’s gorgeous to you!

you continue to softly giggle and take her hand, not even bothering to wait for your own polished nails to dry as you slowly showed her how to paint nails in a more neater manner.

“okay, so always try to follow the curve at the end of your cuticles. it takes a lot of practice, but it’s so satisfying once such a perfect color is put on your nails!”

hae-in made tiny sounds of affirmation, seeming to give you random nods here and there. in all actuality, her face was darkened in a deep red hue, feeling ecstatic and on cloud 9 upon feeling your hand holding on to hers.

within just 20 or so minutes, you finished polishing hae-in’s nails, placing a top coat on it so that it could look shiny and dry faster. you admire your work for a few more minutes before letting her hand go-

only to feel your body being pushed against her mattress.

“eh…? hae-in?” your eyes go wide when hae-in looks down at you with glowing, golden eyes. she lets out a purr of your name all while framing at your face with her two hands.

“you know… we’ve been best friends for a while, right?” hae-in gently caresses at your features, her full lips inching ever so closely to you as you could feel her hot breath on your skin.

“ah, yes, we have…”

the gorgeous blond woman lets out a sigh before pressing a kiss against your cheek, an unexpected touch of affection that causes your heart to race uncontrollably in response.

your whisper of her name was filled with anticipation when hae-in leans closer to you. “best friends like you and i need to know each other’s tastes, right…? you would agree with such a sentiment… right my pretty little darling?”

“u-uhm…!” you couldn’t respond, your mind spinning as hae-in leaned closer and closer to your lips, ready to capture them as you clenched your eyes shut-

but the sensation of her kiss never came.

instead, all you felt was the way the air became much colder, causing you to open your eyes as a scream was heard coming from your parted lips.

a tall, looming shadow swiftly brings down a dagger against hae-in, but her senses were too sharp as she captures the weapon with her hand.

a flash of anger twists her beautiful face, her fury evident as she spat out his name “sung jinwoo, don’t you realize how close you were to hurting my darling girl?!”

“SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE HAD YOU STAYED IN PLACE!” jinwoo roars at hae-in, ripping her body away from you as he slams the woman down on the ground.

the polishes fall against the floors of hae-in’s bedroom in the midst of their scuffle, spilling various colors against the hardwood as it stains at them. your heart was racing, seeing the two most powerful hunters in all of existence fighting each other-

fighting for you.

fighting over you.

you kept seeing flashes of gold and purple clashing together, with jinwoo’s daggers trying to pierce at hae-in, yet she manages to parry each of his cuts with her sword.

you had to do something to stop this madness, but all you felt was an overwhelming sense of dread consuming you.

you adored basking in hae-in and jinwoo’s friendship, and you felt ashamed to admit it, but you developed feelings for both of them…

you never wished to lose either one of them, choosing instead to balance on the cusp of friendship and romance with them. it was hard, keeping them always at an arm’s length away-

and now, they were both going to kill each other-

you were going to lose them both if you didn’t do something now.

“jinwoo, hae-in, PLEASE STOP!”

the desperation was heard in your voice, and it echoes throughout the room. as if awakened from a trance, jinwoo and hae-in stopped their attacks on each other, eyes going dreamy as they moved away from each other. an almost longing sigh of your name was heard coming from them as they dropped their respective weapons and crawled toward you.

“oh no, my darling is afraid.”

“she’s so scared of losing me.”

“i love her, i need to comfort her and tell her that everything will be okay.”

“she’s so sweet and cute… i need to comfort her…”

your breathing becomes labored when jinwoo and hae-in both join you on the bed. they continue to whisper about their devotion to you, completely forgetting the fact that they had just tried to kill each other mere seconds before as they both surrounded you.

jinwoo places your body on top of his while wrapping his arms around your frame.

hae-in opts to remain behind you, practically sandwiching you between her and jinwoo as you shivered at feeling both of their bodies so close to you. unable to respond, you could only remain still when jinwoo and hae-in began littering your throat and neck with heated kisses, all while proclaiming their love for you.

rejoice, for you had captured the hearts of the two most powerful hunters in the world!

or perhaps… a warning for you would be more appropriate… since it will be difficult for you to escape from the intensity of their love unscathed…

a.n. - this is such a different story for me to write, but i figured i could pass time completing this story while waiting for my meeting. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ currently unedited, but once it’s posted and my meeting is complete, i’ll go back and make any necessary changes. but for now, enjoy!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #cha hae-in x reader #hae-in cha x reader #cha hae-in x you #hae-in cha x you #solo leveling x reader #yandere x reader #.stories

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sameschmidtdiffname · 9 months ago

Text

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x you #billy x reader #billy burn #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson billy #josh hutcherson burn #josh hutcherson burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson imagine #billy burn imagine

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

141 Task Force & Hitman!reader

Okay, so I got two asks about more hitman!reader and two cool ideas, so I will kind of mix them up. Also, this before knowing who (Y/N) is. Also, this will have reference to the hitman games and author has watched it a while ago. Any inaccuracies are on me.

Summary: The team learns about ICA and about (Y/N). Let the hunt begin.

Warnings: violence, weapons, probably military inaccuracies, blood,

Anonymous asked: So I want to bring a idea that I have for 141 and hitman. I want too write down just that I don't forget it. I would think because 141 has seen violence and death. That they're familiar with hitman and maybe encountered them while they work. Also Laswell must have some information about them or knows the organization behind them. So I would think they can recognize which hitman has done the job. It could also be before all off the missions they worked on these hitman cases. So many ideas maybe in the future I have more ideas. So all ways don't forget to drink and rest. 👋 Anonymous asked: I must say I love so much the hitman x taskforce 141 fic and I hope there comes more to the story maybe also with könig and my brain thinks you have these senses like in the hitman games were you can see enemies or opportunities to kill someone there are so many possibilities my brain thinks of right now. Maybe becoming closer to 141 and so on. I am sorry to ramble all my ideas to you. I think there should be more 141 x hitman fics it seems like the fandoms would work quit beautifully together. Sorry for all the text but seeing like that the 141 is afraid of the reader. Is something new and refreshing. I hope I can read in the future more of this kind. Sorry if my english is not perfect I am still learning it. Thank You and I hope you have a nice day.

Everyone on the 141 Task Force agreed that catching Hassan was hell. The mission was tiring, exhausting and the betrayal from Graves and Shepard really sealed it in for the team. It wasn't easy to recover from it.

All of them took some time off because of this mission. They just needed a few weeks off. It's not easy to weed out international terrorists and deal with a betrayal from your allies. But of course, a new mission came in and their time off came short.

They were called in and if it came during their leave, then it must mean that the mission they got was obviously a very important one. But that doesn't mean that they were happy with the predicament. They deserved their time off.

" Captain, what is this mission even? We were supposed to have our time off. " Soap said, disgruntled at the fact that the had to leave his apartment.

" I don't know sergeant, but it must be important if Laswell called us during our time off. " Price said, also disgruntled at the fact that his leave was cut short.

" Everything is important when it comes our team. " Gaz said, clearly annoyed due to his short leave time.

Ghost didn't really say anything, he just walked behind everyone. He didn't really feel different about his leave cut short. Shit happens and terrorist and criminals don't rest. Evil doesn't rest.

" Ghost, are you really okay with this? They took our time off and cut it short. " Soap complained to Ghost.

" It must be very important for them to do that. " Ghost said entering the conference room. Soap didn't say anything after entering, but he was clearly annoyed at the fact that they had to come here.

They sat down, waiting for Laswell to come. She came in, an apologetic look on her face.

" I know, I know, but trust me, this is more important. " Laswell started, pulling up a photo on the big screen. It was a triangle with the iconic pirate skull and bones and on the top of the skull, there was a crown that awfully resembled the Royal crown. Beneath the skull was a phrase in Latin, Merces Letifer.

" This organization is used for hiring assassins and mercenaries. " Laswell started. " It's a neutral organization that works with a lot of governments and organization's. Despite offering the assassinations, they don't accept orders from the enemies of the allies. " Laswell said, pulling up a photo from the guy.

" This is (Y/N). He is one of their best agents and apparently he went rouge. Also, he is killing off some of our targets. " Laswell said, putting the tablet down.

" Is that why he is our problem? " Soap asked, but Price remembered something.

" Wait a second. I think we already had a case with one of the hitman. Remember? In Spain? " Price prompted everyone to remember.

" Yeah, I remember. " Soap started, snapping his fingers. " It was... Uhm... It was in Africa. I remember. A target was killed swiftly and quickly. But we all saw that it was a very particular way that he was killed. " Soap said and Ghost nodded.

" It was done with a single stab. Just... Perfectly done. " Ghost said, looking at (Y/N)'s photo.

" But it wasn't (Y/N). That was the other hitman. The one that thankfully didn't go rouge. However, (Y/N) is one of their best agents." Laswell explained to the team.

" Do we know why he went rouge? " Gaz asked, tilting his head.

" No. They didn't tell us. " Laswell said. " As if they would. " She added the last part quietly, making the other men in the room chuckle.

" You will be joined by König, I know you have worked with him before. " Laswell said, looking at the screen.

Price was pleased with that piece of information. König is an absolute unit of a man and if there was a chance of going up against (Y/N), they are going to need every single backup they could get.

(Y/N) was one of the the most deadliest, if not the deadliest agent the world.

" So I assume we have a location? " Ghost asked, eyes moving to look at Laswell.

" We do. It's here nearby, actually. Soap will be excited. " Laswell said and Soap smiled widely.

" Scotland forever. " Soap said, pumping his fist in the air.

Ghost shook his head quietly, trying not to smile.

" We have a location somewhere in the middle of no where. Satelite footage shows a small cabin and we have conformation that (Y/N) is in there. König is going to meet you at the base in Scotland. " Laswell said and Price stood up.

" Alright everyone, lets suit up. " Price said and the others stood up too.

Soap was bouncing in his seat in the plane. Ghost looked at him with a neutral look, but he was softened by this Scot. He really was. They stood up when the plane landed. All of them geared up, stepping out when the doors lowered down.

Soap was happy to be back, but the others weren't really happy as Soap was.

" Captain Price. " A voice said from the front and there was the giant named Konig. His voice was deep with a prominent German accent. Price shook his hand with the giant and the others nodded at Konig in return.

" Laswell briefed you? " Price asked as the five of them moved to the cars.

" Yes. I know that (Y/N) is dangerous and could kill us with everyday objects. I also know that he went rouge from his agency. " König explained to Price.

" Alright. It's just the five of us so we need to be careful. " Price said before getting in. Price, Konig got into one and Soap, Gaz and Ghost in the other. They didn't have any additional backup due to the secrecy of this mission.

After 2 hours of driving, they parked a little further from the cabin. They moved in silence and Price has ordered radio silence. They need to do this quietly.

They need to catch (Y/N) off guard.

But that's easier said than done. (Y/N) was trained as a mercenary, a really good one. No, not the good one, but the best one. And if this was going to succeed, then they need to do this quickly and carefully.

One way or another.

Price broke in first, rifle ready to shoot him. This mission was capture or kill.

They moved quitely through a bigger cabin then they thought. They were on high alert, moving quietly. Lets fucking go.

They separated and moved through out the cabin. Price stepped into the kitchen, grunting in pain as something hit him in the face. He saw (Y/N) in a blur as he was thrown across the room.

Ghost tried to help, but (Y/N) jumped on the counter, using it a jumping boost before he managed to bring Ghost down. Ghost grunted as he was slammed down. (Y/N) slid in between König's legs before jumping up using the wall and climbing up on König's shoulders and using his body to bring him down.

Konig didn't expect it and let out a grunt of pain as (Y/N) managed to slam him into the ground. He lunged at Soap and Gaz, bringing them both down.

Both Soap and Gaz didn't expect it, even though they saw it coming. (Y/N) ran out, getting into one of the vehicles. He drove off, chuckling.

He never intended to kill any of them. They weren't his targets in any way shape or form. He didn't have any intention to kill anyone who didn't deserve it. Not anymore. He killed those who did and didn't deserved it.

But now he was going to change. After being under someone else's control for a long time, he wanted some freedom. And he liked 141 TF. There was something about their tenacity and spirit that (Y/N) liked.

He knew that he is going to see them again. The search has started and so has the game of nerves.

Let the fun begin. ,

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #john price x male reader #johnny soap mactavish x male reader #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #soap x male reader #gaz x male reader #kyle garrick x male reader #konig x male reader

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cu7ie · 1 year ago

Text

boredom.

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و investigating a noise in an alley late at night turns into so much more. haitani ran x reader x haitani rindou. word count: 5.4k

cw; dubious consent, brief depictions of fighting and violence. spit-roasting. minor stalking (?) + intimidation, fear.

The day passes, and your boss informs you that 'your workplace attitude is contributing to a loss in morale'. Or in other words,

your coworkers have been complaining about you.

probably the customers too.

Sometimes they say things to your face, (sometimes, because most times their comments can't pierce the veil of existential dread, stagnation. Thoughts buzz around fly-like, about how there's nothing here,

nothing for you) stupid shit, because the seniors always have something to say…

("Look excited for once, rookie. People want to see pretty smiles, you look so ugly frowning.

"At least pretend you want to be here."

one of your supervisors. So far up your ass she's coming out of your mouth.

and you love old people, but she is the rickety-ist old bitch you've ever had the displeasure of knowing.

"You can get more tips if you do a little … 'extra'. You're cute, so it should be easy for you."

Random customer you don't remember asking for an opinion, you just wanted to see if they wanted refills on wine,)

You're getting tired and people are starting to notice. You don't argue, because they're right. You're not happy, and that bothers them so much, for reasons that probably don't have much to actually do with you. They care, but not really, so when you're sent home with the day's wages, the boss tells you in a not-so-nice way to clean up your act.

Don't be so sad. (Or rather, make sure they don't know about it.)

You collect your things and opt for the long walk home. Shibuya's streets are empty (ish) and peaceful about this time of night.

The wind whistles.

It threads between the leaves of trees that hadn't yet died, providing you some company,

The noise. And maybe you're paranoid, unused to walking without headphones (you dumped the contents of your bag to check, you either lost them or left them at home), unused to seeing

the empty streets when there's usually a dozen hawkers flagging down passerby to sample wares. Because you're starting to hear something.

(First, you think it's your mind that makes the wind sound like whispers, moving smoothly along the shell of your ear. Some imagined ramblings. But that's not it at all.

There's actually someone here. Or people. Nearby.)

For once, you're certain you're not crazy. You're definitely hearing something. You don't want to look behind you, but you do just to avoid any creeps who might be lurking. The sound of chatter grows the slightest bit more intense, and —

KLANG!

A brilliant crash (definitely not behind you) that sounds like metal bashing into something just as tough, the residual sound causing your ears to ring. It , unlike many things recently, intrigued you.

You've never possessed an interest in gangs. Never have been.

(This whole situation reeks of them, though. You either don't think or you don't care—)

Not interested in their whereabouts, potential people of interest, they don't make you curious (or maybe it's a privilege to not be curious),

What happens to them never really concerns you.

So why now, are you stepping in front of this alleyway? Why did you choose that this time, on a frigid night walk home, you'll be interested. You'll be concerned with the sounds of commotion in the alley.

… This feels like boredom. It feels like exhaustion has pushed you to your limit. You crave dissent. Novelty, actually being a part of something. Maybe you need it so desperately that in this moment,

You reach out to touch the darkness. A gaping maw of shadow. Light does not enter and it does not escape. This place looks a bit like

Those kinds of places, where you could go missing. Get lost. In some kind of adventure, and that ambition clamps down on that drowning anxiety, making you feel quite bold. Nobody will know you came here. (Nobody will know that, in spite of the pit in your stomach, in spite of the fear, in spite of the sweat in your palm, the tremble in your knees,

you stepped forward.) The shadow swallows you up to your ankle, then your body is engulfed in the darkness.

You've never disappeared before. You think it'll be okay (hopefully), that it might fulfill something within you that's been desperately missing; maybe it'll be better than

being safe,

than being

comfortable.

Just a quick peek. You'll only be gone for a second.

(you think the voices get louder and you shift, narrowly avoiding a shallow bacteria laden puddle, using the wall to quickly navigate while placing emphasis on not being seen by anyone if they happened to run past. You don't hear movement, but the talking gets louder as you get closer, and closer, and closer, and …)

(The talking has become more like shouting, and the silence from before has been replaced by the sound of a fierce impact, cracking, crashing, more yelling. Everything is loud now, the moon and street light cascading down on the scene but not revealing your position, flattened against the alley wall.)

"Rinnie.." A tall fellow sighs, his shoulders sagging forward with effort, and ‘Rinnie’ a good ways away from him looking crazy with some sort of excitement. The tall one, dead amused eyes and two braids pigtails framing his face, dark roots growing towards blond tips.

The little one is the kind of bleach - platinum - blonde, maybe a shade or two less yellow. He shares a similar look to the man standing adjacent to him, but his hair is frizzy and wild, sticking to his forehead. The tall one looks scuffed up and his eyes look tired, betraying the hint of a lip curl, a smile, maybe?

What exactly did you stumble onto? You lean in closer to catch the words that fall from their mouths, careful not to step onto the bottles and cans discarded on the ground.

"Rin rin, you might kill him before we can learn anything useful." ‘Rin’, is the belligerent one, his fist dully thudding and knocking across the face of an unknown man sprawled out on the floor, who doesn’t appear to be moving. The man must already be unconscious, or worse- dead - the flurry of blows not affecting him in any way you can discern from here.

"Ahaha! But Ran, this is really fun!"

Thwack! Rin’s right knuckle catches on the man’s cheek, his other fist flying with assuredness and dead-on accuracy towards his stomach.

It is only then that the body groans, and his struggling renewed somewhat. Rin’s arm pulls back with poisonous intent, all the muscles in his fist perfectly poised to,

Hurt and maim.

Ran hooks Rin’s arm in his wrist and drags him off of their victim, who lies cowering before them, too weak to flee or do much but shake like a leaf.

"Okay. Okaaaaay. Now you're making it no fun." Ran drags Rin to his feet; doesn't respond with anything other than a snort and a shove. Rin only barely avoids flying into some refuse, his distress blowing his pupils as big as saucers, easing into relief as he stumbles and catches his balance. They look like a fever dream in the streetlights, an anomaly that should have remained hidden from you and walking down this alley has never felt like a utterly terrible idea until now - They drag the man to the side of the building and prop him up. They smile at one another, as though there’s a joke lingering in the air that nobody’s let you in on.

It makes you shiver.

Just as cold shakes start to wrack your body, your teeth chitter for a fraction of a second; just a bit too loudly. Their heads begin to turn. Directly facing away from the light, their expressions are encased in darkness,

And while you thought they may be drunk or delirious, or both, the mood shifts neigh instantly, and you frantically clasp your hand over your mouth and stop breathing. They are looking dead at you. You don’t know if their pause is because they don’t exactly see you but instead, shadow, but your arms tense up and feel like coiled springs attached to your shoulders; legs trembling trying to maintain balance and not fall and make a sound.

You don’t move.

Your eyes burn because you don’t blink and you’re sweating, lying in anxious wait. They don’t close in at once, because when Rin says “Ran,” that dastardly tree of a man lumbers towards the mouth of the alley and,

He, who is not fooled by the darkness,

Dragging you out flailing, on your back and dragging your nice leather jacket across gunky, disgusting pavement -

You gasp as the tall one forces you to your feet, shoving your back into a wall and evacuating the air from your lungs. You immediately launch into a frantic explanation, your lip blubbering and your body shaking and your eyes wandering to that man up against the wall - who takes advantage of their utter fascination with you, and tries to crawl off.

Rin kicks him in the ribs and sends him sprawling. Back to you, being held up by your neck, lightly enough that he’s not choking you, and you can breathe and speak freely. Their eyes narrow at you, the baton slung on the tall one’s hip looking none too friendly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” “Shut up.” Considering your franticness he sounds quite playful, although the growing pressure behind his grip is not friendly in the slightest. He squeezes your throat and Rin is the one who laughs then, slithering up to your side and giving you a long, long look up and down. “You’ve interrupted some important business here,” He says, gesturing to the battered man with his open hand, “But you think yourself more important, huh? Quite a pesky little shit aren't ya?" Ran finishes the statement, and the look you fix him with is frantic, wild eyed. “But that’s okay. Clearly you have something important to share." Rin smiles coolly. His demeanor unsettles you, (feels like his eyes pierce you, makes your heart pound out of your chest, your fingers tremble,) your mind is screaming to go far away. “So tell us,” The tall one hisses through an artificial smile, coldly amused, voice rough on the ears, “Who are you, and what’s in it for us if we let you go?” Rin slides a finger down the side of your waist, making you shiver. “I .. uh..” “Uh? Uhm? That doesn’t sound like any name I've ever heard of.” They laugh at you, and something about their ridicule triggers something in you… tired of being harangued and hung out to dry, mounting tension threatening to collapse you. Your legs buckle. You feel yourself begin to cry.

"Aww. Don't cry… we were just playing with you." Ran leans uncomfortably close, wet sheen on your cheeks glimmering in dim light. Rin sees his brother lick a slow stripe up your cheek, doesn't say anything. You whimper, petrified.

Ran's eyes bore into yours. "Who are you?"

You tell them your name. "I … I wait tables! I was just trying to get home from work I - I - I-"

"Through back alleys? It's like you're asking to get hurt." The one named Rin mutters, and Ran, who seems wise to your lies, presses you.

"You weren't getting home anytime soon, hunched over in that alleyway. You were watching us." He moves from in front of you and grasps the back of your skull, forcing you to stare at the battered man a few feet away. "Do you know him?"

You shake your head frantically.

"Then why the fuck are you here?"

"I just - I heard something. I heard something and I thought, I thought .." You struggle to find the words to describe your thought process. Rin helps you out.

"You must've thought: 'Oh, those guys must be having so much fun! I want to play too!'. " The blonde mocks the lilt of your voice. The one with the pigtails barks out laughter, pulls your head back until your neck bends, staring you in your eyes. "Our … friend over there is all played out. But,"

"You're not. Playing with you for a bit sounds fun. Oh, Rin?"

"We should walk our new friend home. Seems like the polite thing to do, yes? Wouldn't want them to get hurt. There's dangerous people lurking at this hour." His smile is particularly wicked, your anxiety mounting.

"Sure thing, Ran."

….

They call someone else to take care of the man, ( you can't tell if he's still alive - they usher you out of that liminal space expeditiously,) terribly eager to dip into something else that night. You tell them your address at their goading, the two men leading you through alley's and backroads you never even knew about. As you exit the dark, the moon can be seen from where you've emerged from in-between buildings, faces of the men surrounding you lighting up at once.

It's hard to describe the emotion you feel upon meeting eyes with such striking faces. Distinctly similar, uniqueness to be found in both, (Ran looks nonchalant, at ease in his movement. Rin remains stern and orderly above all, offsetting his brother’s lack of care,)

When you talk to them, they don't divulge anything personal, not even their names, (they know you know them already) but you notice they seem more interested in you than you'd expect them to be, taking turns asking questions, fixing one another with this look whenever you answer a question a certain way. It’s nice to have people listen to you - or at least do a good job pretending. They don’t seem … as threatening as they did in the alley.

Rin is more cordial and polite, and talks to you more emphatically than Ran does. He seems unbothered by your chatter, but is less active of a participant.

From what they observe, you seem to be a particular person. Even though you are scared (your fear, it makes you look so beautiful, vulnerable), you aren't boring. You're not trying to impress them, but they find themselves intrigued regardless.

They fish for information.

You are an open book.

They learn more about where you work and the assholes that run the joint. They learn about your small family. They learn about how you don't have many friends. You mention you used to have a roommate, although -

"She moved away, maybe a couple months back." You talk without fear now, acclimated to their presence for the time being, for your sanity's sake.

"Oh? How sad." Rindou says, and a part of you feels like he's mocking you.

Ran makes the mental note that you live alone. They've begun walking closer to you, occasionally bumping into you on purpose because they know you won't complain or argue about it. Ran's hand slips into your back pocket while you're talking to Rindou, and the expression of shock, then embarrassment as you feel him squeeze—

"You were saying?" Rin glances at you.

"Yeah, sorry - uh… " Your face burns (you know Rin knows what’s happening, you see the way his eyes narrow, you see his lip twitch) and you don't know how to recover so you don't say anything. It's a safe option; he doesn't badger you.

For a few minutes, your moonlit walk is dead quiet. Rin doesn't touch you, but Ran has hooked his arm around your waist and is poking his fingers into the top of your jeans. You don't do anything to stop him.

His fingers are fast and he is not courteous he is not polite,

when the palm of his hand zips down and two fingers stroke your clit you gasp. Ran tugs on your waist and your hip bumps his a little as he slowly runs his finger over that sensitive piece of flesh. You feel like your skin burns where his finger meets your clit, and you can't suppress your whine as he pushes on it,

(It's like your body jumped out of your skin and he was striking a nerve, raw. You're on fire you're on fire you're on fire)

And Rin only looks straight ahead, his mouth opening like he wants to say something -

But your building is coming into view.

You gesture to your side of the complex (Ran takes his hand out of your pants, for now) and they walk you inside the building, patiently wait for the elevator with you,

And you are suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of your emotion; which upon retrospection, felt like your brain had gone numb. Your stunningly composed self becomes a trainwreck in the four elevator stops (and short walk) it takes to get to your apartment. You feel dizzy with how hot your body has gotten and how tight and uncomfortable even your skin feels,

And you're mewling and whining,

"Th-thanks for walking me home," many flustered thanks, appreciative hugs, trying to wave them away from the door, but they get inside before you do (when Rin whispers ´Let me help you’, your skin gets goosebumps and you toss him the key), and act as if for a moment they were the kind of people that you'd want in your house.

Rin is commenting on your art, 'critiquing' (shaming) your arrangements and decor, touching nothing, taking up no space,

While Ran is on everything, everywhere, all at once. He's opening your fridge and taking out the drink you were trying to save for later, flipping through the tabs you left on your computer and,

Maybe they could be friends, with the way they both get so comfortable. But eventually their eyes start drifting over,

to you. Sat on your couch, house burning down around you, you've gone too far, too deep, and they are not going to let you go. (it's not like that was the plan, anyway).

…

Ran mentioned something about playing earlier, didn't he? You hadn't a mind to negotiate a 'fair exchange' for them walking you home on such a dark night. Maybe you hoped they'd just forget about it.

(They don't. You know because before they make you show them where the bedroom is, Ran pokes his fingers through the belt loops on your jeans and tells you how much of a courtesy he brought you back, he could have fucked you and left you in the alley.

"But I didn't." Ran smiles, and you can only imagine what Rin's face looks like. Though, you can feel him on your back, grinding his erection into you.

"Just relax." Rin leans to your ear, lips close enough to kiss the shell of it. "We'll play nice, won't we Ran?"

The aforementioned laughs once, reaching for your belt buckle. "Speak for yourself." )

Your bedroom isn’t terribly small but your massive mattress takes up most of the space. Ran doesn’t care about kicking around your things to get to the bed easier, dipping down and baring his teeth to your neck, nibbling. Rindou does not knock over a thing (he picks up a figurine that you hadn’t noticed had turned over, flicks on your lamp, mutters something) walking between your door and hurrying himself along to the bed alongside Ran.

At that point, you’ve already been undressed from the waist down, your clothing discarded on your living room couch. You’ve been pushed back first onto your bed, Ran is on top kissing you with the feverishness of a school boy, his tongue slipping into your mouth (which surprised you, your pussy throbbed a little) and his hand slipping down towards your cunt.

You make a mewling sound as he rubs circles on your clit, and Rin groans loud enough for you to remember he’s still here, “Jackass, you’ve been hogging them the whole night. You said-” Ran pulls back molasses-slow, fixing Rindou with a look you can’t read. “I know what I said. You don’t have to get so emotional over it, Rin. See?” He pushes himself up on his arms and leaves you there, gesturing with a sweeping motion. “I was just getting them ready for you.” Rin snorts, grabbing your arms. “Whatever. Now, you.” Your eyes meet, but the intensity in his is unlike Ran’s. Something about him seems more driven. Came here for something, refusing to leave without it. “Flip over. Get on your stomach. Make sure your head is hanging off the bed.” You don’t hesitate to do as he says.

Ran steps into your view, tugging on the band of his boxers until his cockhead is visible from the top. You try not to drool. He pushes his cock between your pillowy lips, letting out a long low whistle.

"Just relax. Open your mouth a little wider - that's it - just like that .." Ran is already groaning and barely half his dick is inside your mouth, but drool is racing down your chin and you have forgotten how to breathe out of your nostrils. He cups the back of your head.

"Eyes up." Tears sting at your eyes at your lack of oxygen and Ran just smiles dreamily downward at you, his brother out of your sight entirely. Now you’re as bare as the day you were born, courtesy of Ran, and you nearly forget about Rin until you feel firm hands spreading your legs; a damp muscle wriggle and work it's way in between your folds so boldly,

You cry out, groaning on Ran's cock. It's too big and your jaw has to work and strain and it hurts but he makes you do it anyway (his smell is rich between his legs, and he keeps reminding you to breathe through your nose), telling you how much of a good job you're doing.

"... you're good at this. I didn't think you were a slut though… maybe …"

"It's just a natural talent. Like you were born to suck dick."

He thrusts his hips and holds your face so that he's in your throat, and no matter how hard you beat at his thighs he does not give. You wiggle and squirm, Rin's hands clamping around your hips and giving you less room to breathe. You're so occupied with the dick in your mouth that you don't notice how wet Rin has gotten you.

His brother has all your attention. Even when he stands at attention and lines himself up, you don't notice. It's only when he's pulling your hips towards his, that you feel the blunt head of his cock probing at your pussy and waiting for a good moment to

Thrust in, and as Ran pulls you off his cock to cum on your face, it's a perfect opportunity for Rin to pull you onto him, and the squeal you let out sounds absolutely delicious, (made his balls clench). He begins tentatively, resting a hand at the small of your back, and thrusting into you with as much force as he can muster behind his hips, enjoying hearing you whine and whimper (perhaps more than he expected). Your body is hot to the touch and your back is a little slick with your sweat.

Rin grunts with effort as he tries to fuck into you, getting some give as you grow weak in the hips. His cock feels like it's tearing you up, like he might break you before he night is done and the more you moan and squirm the rougher he gets, the slick sounds of his balls slapping against your clit drowning out the sound of your own thoughts.

(Ran has fun with you. You lick his cock clean as Rin speeds up so much he's practically fucking the breath out of your lungs. Your ass feels battered, your pussy abused —)

Rin has been noticeably quiet most of this time. Too focused on the sound of your yelps and the way your body dances beneath his fingertips. You move so much. He likes the little defiance in you. He has no problem fucking it out.

You grow to gripping Ran's legs for support cause you can't hold yourself up on the bed, the tingling burning feeling of strain zinging up the muscles in your legs.

“Ah! Oooh..” They’re teaching you new things about yourself. Wherever they caress you, the back of your head, along your spine, on your hips, it’s like you’ve been alight with fire. Ran makes sure you’re looking at him, and he’s cooing at you, feeding you crumbs of praise as he strokes under your chin affectionately. Your heart jumps a little at the fond look he gives you, the approval is pronounced and makes you feel warm and anxious all of the sudden, moreso when Ran presses a kiss to your temple.

"Almost." Rin says to no one in particular, his grip just shy of bruising. "Just … fuck." Rin slams your hips into his, his spine stiffening as he fucks a load inside you, pulling his cock out slow so he can see himself dripping down your legs.

What followed feels a little uncertain. You know they stuck around, but their words felt floaty and distant, fucked into a stupor, you seemed a bit … dotty. (Ran thinks it's cute. You don't talk, don't ask questions, just let them pet you. But Rin liked the tension in your muscles, that skeptic's gaze, that substance. Something about having you like this appeals to him, just less.) They came hot like a fever and left you feeling ice cold.

Rin, perhaps feeling sweet, helps you slip your nighty on before Ran is forcing him out of the door, chastising him for being so soft.

You wouldn't know.

You awake in a sea of blankets, with a salty taste in your mouth and this dull ache zapping up your spine…

You are late for work the next morning, but even as your alarm gets grating and beep, beep beeps a few feet away from your head, you're trying to shake off day dream after day dream — you get up when you realize your door was left unlocked, you rectify that, head back to bed. The supervisor who's in charge of arranging your schedule calls you, ten minutes before you are supposed to come in, and you are still lying down.

You honest to god do not have the heart to tell this withering old man over the phone that you can’t come in today. You can hear his voice sort of trembling over the phone (and you later learn that one of the head chefs quit earlier that day, this poor guy is this close to the edge) and decide you don’t need that weighing on your conscience in the future, a good enough reason to force labor upon yourself for the day. You feel weightless sitting in the tub washing off the prior night. In some places you can see indentations from fingers, lightly bruised skin around your hips, that your hands run over with your loofah and that sweet smelling body scrub,

You take your time, not urged by the ringing of your phone or alarm. Your mind decompresses and feels loosened by the steam that rises to the top of the room, fogging up your vision and keeping you warm even when you step out of the bath. Since last night, you notice you seem a lot more one track minded. There’s no dreading the shift, or fear about being asked to stay for overtime, or worry that your coworkers are going to say something to you (they always do, so fucking annoying). There’s nothing. Your head feels manageably empty. Something about it is relaxing, your underlying nervousness of ‘ Is there something i’m missing? Have I forgotten something? Am I doing something wrong?’ all gone.

You’re smiling in the cab to work. Maybe it’s been years since you went there having a positive expectation for today, you can’t remember and you don’t care. You work your shift and ignore your coworkers, boss and customers. They comment, because of course they have something to say.

“You look glowy. Something happen?”

“... I slept well?” Your supervisor rolls her eyes at you, but doesn’t belabor the point. “Must’ve been one helluva good night’s sleep, huh?”

You don’t respond, ready to clock out in the next thirty minutes, hoping and praying nobody keeps you from clocking out at 8:00, because the day’s been going sooo good for you so far,

But one of the managers ends up running in; out of breath, trying frantically to stop the kitchen staff from closing down for the night, from leaving. You’re stopped in lieu of all the commotion. Apparently some big-wigs from the city came in to eat, and would not accept the owner’s hurried apologies of ‘I’m sorry, but the kitchen is closing for the night,’; or their attempts at placation: ‘We can accept your patronage first thing tomorrow? A bottle of wine on the house?’. The owner looks frightened half to death by the time he comes across you, shocking you with the abruptness of his request.

“The… the patrons. Do you know them?” He whispers, deathly close to your ear. His lungs sound like they might collapse, and he looks hot and uncomfortable. “They requested you by name. I-i know you don’t like working overtime, but this could mean big tips.” You roll your eyes. “Move over man. Let me get my menus.” He clasps his hand together in prayer and in thanks, and you mentally prepare yourself to take an order for a much larger party.

There’s only two people sitting in the booth as you walk up, their silhouettes triggering your memory immediately. Ran turns lightning-quick, his expression giddy unlike anything else. He looks so pleased with himself, licking his lips like he’s slick as your confident power walk slows to a few steps.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice is so smooth, makes your ears tingle. Rindou is sat next to him, and looks up at you fondly for a moment. Looks back down at his hands after.

“So, Rin. Ran.” They look a little surprised you actually said their names, but Ran gives you a toothy grin, and leans a bit further forward.

“Here are your menus.” You set them down on the table, allow them to pursue the selection. “I’ll be back with your water.” You about face, looking nothing short of cool, level-headed professionalism. On the inside, you are screaming. Telling them so much maybe was a bad idea in hindsight, (because not only is this OT blowing you, but it’s hard to look them in the eyes, for a reason you haven’t yet grasped.) you sigh, trying to make it out of the end of dinner service without your heart giving in.

You try not to be curt with them but a part of you can’t help it. Ran knows what he’s gunning for, eyes alight with desire as he stares at you up and down in uniform for the first time. Like he’s just about ready to eat you up. He keeps staring at your lips. Rindou is ever the gentleman, is patient with you when you get flustered by Ran’s boldness, occasionally apologizing for the inappropriate comments he sprinkles in. From the moment he’s seen you, to the moment you take his order, serve him the food, give him the bill, he’s flapping his gums.

Rindou seems irritated by this at some point, fixing him with hot hard glares, kicking him under the table and eventually telling him to BE QUIET.

He says it with so much authority that when Ran gets as meek as a mouse, you can’t help but giggle from behind your palm. (Ran shoots you a look, but you ignore it.) Other than what he’s saying to you - working this job, you’ve heard far worse anyway - it’s not a hassle to deal with, maybe just a little awkward,

Because he says shit like:

“Hey sweetheart. There’s another kind of tip I could give you, too.” After he slides nearly half a stack into your uniform pants just because he can. That was probably (definitely) more money than both of their meals combined.

“Hey!” The tall one shouts from the threshold, a little drunk, and swaying from Rin tugging on his arm so hard.

“Maybe.. You get out of your little uniform and meet us outside. We’ll walk you home again.” You don’t say anything, but your face is burning.

“Maybe i’ll take you up on that offer. Some other time.” You bow politely and hurry back to the storage rooms, where your coworkers are packing up their things and heading out the back.

You sigh, taking your time changing out of your work uniform.

…

Imagine your surprise when you’re walking out, head down as you look in your bag and make sure everythings arranged how you like, easily accessible ..

And they’re still there.

Waiting for you.

#tokrev smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #ran haitani #rin haitani #ran haitani x reader #rin haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #rin haitani x you #tokyo revengers x you #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

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bon2bonn · 4 months ago

Text

2 Steps

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

" Once in a morning breathe prequel "

Words count : 1.7k.

*I'm looking nervously at my WIP list and they're glaring at me .

Carlos had a bad weekend . That's the least of he could say and he was trying his best to move on from it and pretend to be ok . His tired eyes and stiff shoulders made it hard for him to hide as the almost permanent frown made itself right at home between his brows for God knows how long .

He sighed for the hundredth time and looked away from his yet again emptied glass , ordering another one seemed like a good idea . Pretending took too much of his already drained energy and he was about to call it a night and burry his thoughts in favour of some decent sleep, that if he could with how loud his mind was and still is for the past couple of weeks , and at this point all he could hope and pray for is a decent slumber, let it be two or three hours, he won't complain as long as his mind would let him rest for a moment.

He turned sideways on his seat , contemplating , he wanted to leave yet not fully sure as the buzz of the crowd rose above the ticking of the gears spinning in his head , and before he drove himself into another spiral a yelp snapped him out as a figure slumped on the stool besides his , waiting patiently for the bartender to make his way over to place her order , a slight pout forming on her face and a light tint upon her cheeks which he thought was from having a couple of drinks , her hair was down with strands curled around her face and some were curling against her neck, a [f/c] dress suiting her well , just as well as the smile she gave as she turned her eyes his way only to find him already looking at her .

He was startled when she repeated her question, tilting his head with a deeper frown when she let out a giggle at his confused expression and asked softly with her head leaning on her hand " why such a sad face with such pretty eyes ? " His sour mood turned with his face heating against his will , keeping his eyes locked into her warm ones for far more than he anticipated himself to usually do, but not that he was complaining at all , somehow his tense shoulders slightly relaxed the more he looked at her .

On her side she patiently waited for him to say something, anything , too transfixed on his eyes to urge an answer out of him , but their small forming bubble bursted when the bartender placed her order before her and moved away , leaving them both contemplating whether to courage and carry on the have a conversation or to let the moment of connection get lost as a once in a million coincidence and move along in silence .

Carlos then looked at her after making up his mind , turning back to sit on his chair facing the bar instead of turning to leave and answered her question with his frown returning " I had a shity weekend, No , my whole week was from hell " , she looked back at him with wide eyes , taking few seconds to fully comprehend that he actually answered her , a wide smile lit her face and she didn't hesitate to speak, " you know what should be done when you have shity weekends/weeks ? " He gave an amused smile as he asked leaning his crossed arms against the bar top " I don't know , what should be done when you have a shity weekends/weeks ? " She huffed at his teasing but kept her smile while answering, lifting two fingers to demonstrate " two steps " , a small smile made it's way to his lips as he asked " which are ? " She lifted her glass as if showcasing "first you have to have at least a decent drink , what did you have ? " She looked at his forgotten empty glass and made a face shaking her head " that won't do . May I ? " She asked him pointing to the glass then called the bartender once again when Carlos gave a nod , watching her order a new drink for both of them , she smiled eagerly as he took a sip of his , and waited as his face went from sceptical to impressed as he drowned the rest of the glass , then turned to her " that was actually good " she nodded " told you " then stood when he asked " what's the second step? " , offering him her hand which he took after a second of thinking and was dragged to the dance floor , his steps a bit hesitant , he called over the loud music as the approached " I'm not a good dancer " she shrugged with a smile and called back " neither am I , but you don't have to be a good dancer to have fun " she let go of his hand and called over her shoulder " I'll be right back! " he could only watch her back disappearing among the crowd and minutes later a loud bass rung around the dance floor , erupting loud cheers from everyone who started dancing to the beats , and then she came back to him , a mischievous smile already on her face and her hands raised as she danced her way back to him .

She pointed two finger " now this is step two of my glorious plan " giving a twirl and dancing exageratly making him laugh before taking her outstretched hand to dance along . " Carlos " he spoke while twirling her , she gave a confused look at him before he added " my name " her face lit up once more and she gave him her name " it's nice to meet you Carlos " , they both danced and sang their lungs out for the rest of the night , finding themselves having the time of their lives with eachother to notice the time .

They made their way into the cold air , with her dragging him out by his hand and him letting her take him wherever she pleased , both stumbling in a laughing fit as they searched for a cab to hail but found none so they turned to walk instead . The conversation went on as they kept walking , from their favourite food to their music taste, their least favourite movies to their drinks of choice , they kept talking and unknowingly getting closer until they were leaning against eachother, Carlos arm around her waist while the other held her hand and her arms crossed with each holding one of his , her head leaning on his shoulder while his leaned down every once in a while to share his opinion against the shell of her ear , lingering a few more seconds before leaning back up as they went on . This kept going until they reached the final crosswalk , both turned to face the other " this is my stop " , sharing a look before crossing the road to reach the hotel , walking side by side until they walked in the elevator where each stood leaning against a wall facing eachother .

She leaned her head back and asked after watching the numbers going up to their destined floors " so ....? , " He leaned back and asked " so what ? " Holding his smile when she scoffed at him mumbling " and here I thought I liked you " , but he heard her and let his laugh out , taking three steps to reach her on the other side , one of his hands found the railing on the wall and leaned his weight on it while the other tucked her hair behind her ear " and what if I like you too ? " Watching her bite her lower lip before breathing out , locking eyes with him while tilting her head " hmm , but you still didn't answer me " , he leaned in and whispered, their lips a hair away from touching , she's very aware of his hand sneaking around her waist while hers went up around his neck " did the two steps worked ? " . He gave it a thought, dragging time until she smacked his chest making him answer " it did , but .... " She asked with a frown " but what !? " Taking in her forming pout he whispered " it's missing a step " , she whispered back " which is? " . Both leaned in but a loud 'Ding!' snapped them to get off at her floor .

With a sigh she looked at him sharing an apologetic smile as he stepped back , letting his hand fall to his side but the other lingered around her until she stepped out nodding as she pointed " so this is where I get off " and spoke a quiet " yeah " with a small wave he leaned back on the wall facing the doors as it started to close , watching her back while she head down to her room but cursed and put his hand to stop them and made his mind to go after her , and when she turned to look back with words on the tip of her tongue she was met with his lips on hers , they pulled away and he leaned his forehead against hers to whisper after stealing one more kiss from her lips " that's the missing step " , she smiled up at him and dragged him down the hallway , slamming her room's door behind them with a startled laugh when he scooped her up once they stepped in .

#carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #once in a morning breathe #once in a morning breathe prequel

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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

Note

I found myself rereading an old discussion about AO3 commenting culture (ye olde "Authors aren't owed comments" vs. "Readers aren't owed fic either" wank). And you know, it strikes me that a lot of the drama in such discussions is rooted in the fact that people only ever seem to engage with the worst things the opposite side says. And of course that leads to miscommunication, because the extremes are not generally applicable to most people.

Like, for instance. Someone going "I comment so regularly I practically gave myself burn-out commenting". Authors complaining about people who act entitled to stories aren't talking about you, I promise. They're talking about people who genuinely can't be bothered or go on flippant "Why don't you just write for yourself?" rants, while still enjoying other people's work. Ditto on the other side: people get offended at being called entitled authors, but odds are good the person isn't referring to you, who would simply like to not shout into the void, odds are good they're referring to the asshole authors they've met who'd throw hissy hits over comments that weren't phrased exactly to their liking, because yes, people like that do exist so it's simply flat out wrong to say "Just comment, authors are always happy to see comments, no matter how short! :)"

Also, a particular comment jumped out at me:

"It's not a consumer's job to compliment a promote an artist's work"

I generally agree that acting like people are owed comments is useless and stupid, but if I had to pick a phrasing that sums up my misgivings about common commenting culture, it's this. So many people seem to act like authors are getting a paycheck for this and don't need any additional motivator.

The other thing that bugs me is when people talk about all the reasons they don't comment (low spoons, anxiety, tired, etc.), but ignore the fact that authors have to deal with all of the above, too. And not just in fanfic. It seems any time there's any kind of social conflict being discussed (like, say, replying to a friend's messages in a vaguely timely manner) a ton of people will trot out excuses for why they can't do [insert what's generally seen as the vaguely courteous thing to do], but inadvertently act like that makes them special and like they're the only ones who have these legitimately valid excuses.

This started in one place and led to another, sorry. I guess I'm just frustrated with the Tumblr mental health culture of "I have a semi-specific reason I struggle with this so I'm not even going to try". I think people overcompensate too much for "Just don't be disabled!"-style ableism and swing too hard in the embraced helplessness direction.

Back to fanfic, every time I see the "I can't do it because of X" thing in the context of commenting, I can't help but think of how many authors also deal with depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, low spoons, etc. and how easy it would have been for them to give up, but they got through it and posted the fanfic anyway, and how often they're then met with silence because the prevailing attitude among their audience is e.g. "I read this before bed and was too sleepy to comment, and too forgetful to comment the next day". I think about some of the fic I've written, often fic written when I maybe should have been doing something else, or fic written at the cost of sleep, or hyperfixating at my keyboard for six hours instead of going for a nice hike with my family, and it's hard not to get a little bitter, you know? Talking about legitimate reasons for why commenting is hard just so often comes across as "You're free to make sacrifices to write the stuff I read, but I won't make any"

I also feel a bit bitter that it's impossible to even discuss these things in a vacuum without someone going "Discussions like this are why I've stopped commenting", as someone inevitably will in the notes of this post. "Just shut up and make your Content(TM) and don't complain about anything", is what it feels like.

The entire phrasing of reward and owing is stupid.

The reality is that lots of people won't produce work unless they feel like someone cares. No amount of moralizing or excuses will change that.

It's also the reality that posting to the masses on AO3 or tumblr will result in maybe one like or other interaction per hundred hits if you're really, really lucky. The rate has never been much better than that, and it never will be. It's often very much worse.

If one personally wants to encourage people, sure, go out and do that, but any call to action that ignores the above two realities is like fighting the tide.

I do think "It's not my job to promote you" typically comes up in the context of meltdowns about letting artists "languish in your likes" instead of being reblogged onto your actual blog and/or contexts where the artist/author/etc. is selling their work.

Here's the thing: people who never comment do not count.

They think they're part of a community. They're not. If you don't participate, you're a ghost.

When some author moves to a more enclosed space, a lot of people who saw themselves as part of something are suddenly left out in the cold, wondering why. But the fact is, if you don't pay the entry fee of socializing with others, you're nobody to them.

The entitled randos don't matter. If they bug you enough, take your toys and retreat to a discord with your friends.

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deyisacherry · 1 year ago

Text

3 steps for a love confession — DCA x Y/N

First step, analyze their feelings for you. Done.

Second step, accept them. Done. Hardly.

Third step…

Confess.

There you were, sitting behind the desk. The kids had recently left, the Pizzaplex hadn't closed yet.

Good, great, wonderful. They have time.

Sun had excused himself to you, saying that he had to tidy up some things in his room. Of course… walking around the site, accustomed to nimbly dodging the pile of things lying on the floor, was the complete opposite of that.

Thank the stars that he and Moon can communicate internally, or his incessant nervous chatter would have been noticed by you a long time ago.

"How is someone supposed to confess their feelings? What are we supposed to do? You know how bad I am at telling the truth, I'll just say something stupid to avoid it and ruin it, I'm sure. Very sure!" Sun paced back and forth, his beams spinning as he tried to think. Poor thing, anyone who saw him from the outside could tell that he had gone crazy. He even moved his hands in expressive gestures as he communicated with Moon.

"Staying up here, not talking to them, probably not much will happen if we keep doing this."

"Moon! I'm serious! I'm not good at this, and you- neither are you!"

"Rude."

"You know what I mean."

"So cruel."

"Moon."

"I know, I'm just playing."

Sun sighs, stopping his pacing. "Maybe a letter? They're nice, and personal, and… oh, no, no, I'm going to get carried away and probably make them feel uncomfortable, plus I don't have self-control with details, and drawings, and glitter glue-" Sun he lets out an exasperated groan in his mind space, causing Moon to growl. "Why is this so difficult?!"

"Noisy."

"Please be of more help, you also want them to know how we feel." Sun says, with a tired expression.

"Flirt until they find out?"

"Oh, please…" Sun says annoyed, placing a hand on his forehead in disappointment.

"Hey, it's not even that terrible." Moon defends himself against his reaction. "You don't have to be too obvious… just play around."

"It's easy for you to say, you always do…"

"Not like this…"

Sun is silent for a few seconds, and then groans softly knowing that he is accepting his proposal.

"I guess we can try." He crosses his arms, looking down at the Daycare through his balcony.

"I have an idea."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"… Should I trust you?"

"Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn't." Moon responds, with a very soft laugh.

Sun has a feeling that he's going to regret it.

———

When the crepe paper rose is ready, Sun holds it in one hand, while the other one holds a piece of sticky tape.

"… This is goofy… even for me."

"If you don't try, you'll never know."

"Don't apply my sayings to me!"

"Just do it."

Sun complains silently, and begins with the last step of Moon's idea. Best scenario, it really works. Worst scenario… he'll resign himself to letting you see him and will stay in his room forever.

"… I'll blame you if anything happens."

———

There's at least an hour left before the Pizzaplex closes its doors. You are reviewing some messages that you forgot to reply to. Yep… it was definitely a good idea to have disabled the option to show when you read a message. It saves you from the idea that they will hate you for losing social energy mid-conversation and leaving them on seen.

You're in the middle of drinking some coffee you ordered, when you feel Sun approaching. You usually let him talk or do something, so you don't turn to look at him. But he doesn't do anything, so oddly enough, you look away from the screen to where you know he is.

And you're immediately greeted by the sight of Sun, with a paper rose taped to his smile. His eyes narrow with excitement as he leans across the desk. "Hello, Sunshine~"

A wink from him, and- Oop.

You just choked on your coffee from how badly that caught you off guard, coughing and covering your mouth as you look away in panic.

"Oh no, no, no! Sunshine! Sorry! Sorry! Bad timing for that! I'm really sorry!" Sun tries to get his hands closer to you but he doesn't know how to help, and seeing him with the rose still stuck to his mouth doesn't help your coughing stop.

———

"I knew it was a bad idea! I knew it! I knew it! And you knew it! You wanted to make fun of me!" Sun yells into his headspace, pressing a Freddy stuffed plushie against his face.

"But the flirting worked, they were blushing and embarrassed."

"They weren't blushing nor embarrassed! They were choking!"

"… Isn't that how embarrassed people react to something like that?"

"Moon!"

… The third step will have to be postponed.

---

edit: god dang it i just realized i made some mistakes with the font color AAA

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veintrry · 2 years ago

Text

pre-show !

idol!scaramouche x gn!reader, reader has female genitalia, teasing, biting, sucking.

exact same fic different sexual genitals: f | m

ac: ??? (comment if you know!)

It was a somewhat difficult and draining thing to be dating someone in the performing industry. You had to witness your partner in tiring states, and you both has to give up a lot to make things work, but you two still continue to try and you could proudly say you are content where you are.

There's something that boosts your ego knowing that despite the thousands of people that are watching him, only you get all of him. Though, you hadn't missed how much more clingier he had grown to be, and that was made all the more evident with his rash behaviour this evening.

Here you stood in his room at the backstage area, awaiting his arrival before he had to get on stage. This had become somewhat of a ritual for you two, to see each other before a performance; You were there for each one, from when he was but an underground name till he had gained enough traction to be known merely by the title of 'The man who speaks with his eyes'.

Still, this fame did nothing to change your relationship, not in a personal way. It did affect your time schedules and you found yourself more concerned about him due to not wanting him to overwork himself knowing how difficult this industry may be, but other than that you two had stayed relatively the same and you both were happy with that, knowing that there was nothing wrong. Although, you'd be lying if you'd say you didn't feel a tad bit jealous when you hear others shamelessly complimenting him.

The sound of the door opening with a click brushes past your ears and before you could turn around to greet whoever it was you are pulled into a tight embrace and the door had already been closed, the lock snapping into place harshly.

A whine enters your ears as his head rests on the back of your shoulder, "I need you."

It isn't a question but a statement that he is aware you both must share, and it isn't uncommon to feel this way when it comes to one another, especially with how difficult things can be for him within the industry.

He lifts his head, placing his chin onto your shoulder as he tilts it to gaze up at you. "That damn manager held me up. I was getting my makeup and hair done and then they just decided to dump more information about our coming schedules too. Who do they think they are? And to tell me so abruptly too. They're wasting my time," He complains, and you notice the way his eyes narrow, glaring at the recollection as though the entire team had practically imprisoned him and kept him from what he desired.

You think he is overreacting a bit, but you'd be lying to say you didn't feel the same, and you'd be a bigger liar to say you don't like it.

"I could be staying with you instead." He finishes, relishing in your body warmth, inhaling your scent as though he had been addicted to it, to you, and what it did to him. He wanted you, badly.

You like the sound of that, and he might've - no, he definitely picked up on that - He wasn't dense, far from it. He knew his schedule must be exhausting for you. I mean, how could you ever survive this long without him? He should be more attentive to you.

A smirk found its way onto his lips and his hands began to trail from your stomach to your waist, rubbing on your sides as he hummed into your clothing. "We haven't gotten much time to ourselves recently, have we now?" His voice had the essence of honey, attempting to fool you with its sweetness despite your knowing of the venomous intent behind it. "You know you don't have time to be doing that, especially right now Scara." You say, cutting to the chase, and he almost sends you a disapproving whine.

"You know I don't like you calling me that." He lifts his weight off your shoulder, nearing the side of your ear, mouth too close to the outer shell as he whispers in that familiar deceiving tone, "Say my name." A thumb laps circles onto your stomach, patiently awaiting your reaction, timing you.

"You have to get on soon- '' You're spun around, an arm lacing around your back, fingers wrapping around your waist firmly pulling you closer to him, too close. "Say my name."

And you see the way he stares at you, demanding you, commanding you. Hell, if you didn't say it you were sure he was going to have it come out of you with his own methods. And despite how much you didn't want to admit it, you didn't mind that, either. You didn't want him to be late, but there was a good feeling about being the reason why he's late. Plus, you were curious, just how would he make you succumb to him this time? "Make me."

That was all he needed. Those two words were like the seal to break his restraints and give his all to you, as he always should've been. It was impressive the little time it took till his lips were crashing against yours, pleading for you, you didn't even blink.

Divine is how he always felt. The softness of his lips was always so passionate and demanding, yet always with that desperation tinged in and this dawn it was stronger than usual; He yearned for you. He wished to devour all of you.

You match his pace as best as you can but he doesn't wait for you, he doesn't want to, he wants you to feel the mess that this is, he wants to make this imperfect; It's almost like he wants you to make him a mess. It would be a sight to see for someone like him to go out looking like that, the public and news outlets would have a field day. But hey, more eyes on him right? And yet he only found himself wanting yours.

A hand crawls up your spine, his fingers feeling as though they are touching your bare skin through your clothing, leaving a cold trail that makes you arch your back with a yelp. They find home in your hair, entangling into it and pulling you deeper into him, wanting you to breathe him, take him, take all of him.

But you push away for a moment, hands on his torso. You need air, and you were aware he did too. Still, he did not care. He wouldn't waste this, waste this chance to rile you up, to show you who he wants to entertain is you. Who else would tolerate all of him the way you do? "Off," His voice was hoarse, deep breaths being taken and the desperation appeared to only grow. You glance up to meet the gaze that was already long planted onto you, savouring your reactions, the puffiness of your lips and the wrong you felt for doing this but the thrill you gained from it. "Take them off." He gestures to your pants with his eyes. "Scara-" You whined as you attempted to speak, though cutting yourself off realising your mistake.

You could see the state he was in and you having called him that probably didn't help. His hands departed from your waist, his chest pressed up against you as he reached for the zipper and the way he looked at you tells you that he didn't care about the aftermath or the possibility of being caught, you might even say he enjoyed it, your response to it. And his grimacing smirk widens at the thought. "I know you want it. I bet you'd love for me to have you bent over and fucked here." Your body appeared to squirm at his words, reminded that he knew you and your body more than you did. It was only natural he'd understand your cravings. "There's no need to deny it. I know."

He leaned his face in closer to you, your noses touching and you see those pretty lashes of him cover his eyes like a veil but you feel it, you feel his hunger and you witness its coming when he licks his top lip, the zipper of your pants slowly being inched down anticipatingly. You hated how he took his time, how he knew you were still focused on the time, how unconsciously your eyes would glance over to the clock hung up above the vanity desk, and you knew that he knew how despite all of this you still wanted him to not show up– to be late, unrefined, fucked up– all because of you. He liked you like that, when you were selfish.

You latch onto the hand on your jeans and push the zipper down completely, losing your patience. "And I thought you were eager to get started?" Now you reciprocate his cocky confidence as your half-lidded eyes encounter his, daring him to see how much he could do with the time he has. And you knew him, he would do anything to prove you wrong. "Who said we haven't already?" He retorted.

The hand on your waist is slowly moved to your stomach, then dragged down to your unzipped pants that you began to hastily remove, his nails lightly touching your skin, leaving a feathery sensation and as he closed in on your most intimate spot he eyed you in silence, but he spoke to you with those emotions that whirled inside them. Bastard. His fingers make way to the bottom of your undergarment touching your wet self, rubbing his fingers around just to feel how soaked you'd gotten all by yourself.

He begins to touch you through your underwear, and the hand that was once in your hair slithered under your top, undoing your bra with ease and disposing of it with little to no care as he goes back to cupping your breast. You both are breathing heavily against one another and you're the one to latch your lips onto his again, and once you do you don't regret it, you kiss into him deeply, and you feel the moistness of his tongue press up against your bottom lip, swiping it in an ask of permission, and you wholeheartedly welcome it, opening your mouth for him as your hips jut into his touch.

His tongue was warm and naturally moist, the strong feeling of its shape and the way he roughly handled it in your mouth making it feel more prominent. He swirled his tongue around yours, pulling it deeper into his and as went on his fingers began to rub on your clit, touching you with your garments still on. He adored the insolent whines that would leave your mouth, the desperation you reciprocated in those stuttering hip movements as you attempted to get as much friction as you can, but if you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask.

The warmth you had discovered within your mouth soon disappeared as he departed from your lips, however his pillowy lips never left your body, they merely trailed down your jaw, leaving soft kisses as he climbed down your neck. You feel his teeth grazing your skin before sinking his teeth into it like he was blood hungry. His breath hitches at the quick breath of relief you release and how you wince at the pain in pleasure. Then he kisses it, lapping the bruise with his tongue to apologise, but he only does it again and again till you were sure your neck and shoulders were covered with marks. You didn't want to think about the struggle you'd have of hiding them, but he could offer you a better solution of simply not doing so.

He continues onto his path, riding up your shirt up to your chest as he resumes in journeying down to your stomach, leaving feather-like kisses in their wake, before feeling the wet heat that's up against you again. You look down to see him licking up your navel with a smug smile, snapping you out of your thoughts. You were stupid to believe that he would simply tend to you kindly. Was this to be loving? Certainly. But kind? No, anything but that. He'd love you with everything he has, and you'll take it.

Crouching down to be at your groyne as he resumes planting sloppy kisses downwards, he finally allows his finger to latch onto your undergarments waistband, slightly teasing you as he rubs on it, making you more aware of your need for him. You let out a grumbling whine, and he sees how you furrow your brows at him but it does nothing to deliver frustration when you wore such a cute pout. Still, he was a very generous man, so he wouldn't torture you for too long. He begins to lower them till you are laid bare for him, and the only time he ever looks away from you is when he finally has a moment to relish in the divine sight of your soaked self. A pleased hum leaves him, and his eyes meet yours again and you see the satisfaction that lay within them, how he scrutinises you, teases you, with nothing but his observing violet orbs and that gleam that reflects only more to come.

You were far from the kind to feel humiliated when being seen bare by him. This wasn't the first time you two had felt each other this way, spoken to one another in such a way or let out these sounds of yours. But, the difference here was that, you certainly never had done it like this, during a time you knew you shouldn't, when you had such little time, when there was a risk of getting caught, and it made you squirm into yourself all the more, your thighs pressing against one another and thus his thumb that had rested on your inner thigh.

"Ah ah, ah." He tutted, scolding you with his tone as though you had made a measly mistake. "That's no good," The heat of his breaths meet your skin with each word he speaks, granting goosebumps amongst your skin and you are certain this was intentional. "Don't tell me you're getting all shy now, are you?" And he cocks his head to the side as he gazes to you, awaiting your answer, and you can't make eye contact, not with this view of him knelt down, so eager for you. Surely he knows.

"I see. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're completely relaxed. You don't have to worry about a thing." His words are painfully slow and the longer he speaks the softer his voice gets, the more dewy and venomously sweet it is that you wish to intake it once more.He knew how to get you going and he didn't back away from using his dirty tricks, planting a kiss atop your abdomen.

Such a pretty face he had, but he bore the personality of a snake. I suppose it would be somewhat twisted for you to admit that you found yourself to enjoy that about him, allowing yourself to be a willing prey…

#wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin kunikuzushi #scara x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #kunikuzushi smut #wanderer smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x y/n

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whirlwindimagines · 2 years ago

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Hi thereee, can I request a Wolfwood with a s/o who is touch-starved when they're about to sleep plz? 👀

Of course! Here's a short little thing <3

'And the name of the game's just the living'

Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader.

“Please.” You begged hands clasped together; you were making sure to do your best puppy dog look. Wolfwood was ignoring you, sitting by the window with a smoke in between his lips.

You need to use a better tactic it seemed, dropping your hands you join Wolfwoods side you don’t touch him you want to, but you have no idea what was okay and what wasn’t. It was easier when Wolfwood initiated contact, but he was mad at you.

It was justified anger, you knew that and you knew Wolfwood wasn’t really mad at you, but at the person who shot you. But you were fine it was just a graze; he was more upset that you ran out of cover to help him and got shot.

He bandaged you up in silence after he had yelled at you, and you had done some yelling back. But now you were tired and just wanted to sleep with him beside you. It had been a new thing, a bit of an accident really. Touch was something you were hardly given but craved and when Wolfwood held you that first night so many nights ago you were hooked.

A part of you said you were pathetic, that you survived this long without a cuddle buddy for sleep, but another part of you felt like you deserved good things, and comfort. You also knew Wolfwood enjoyed it too, he’d never admit he was too tough for that. But when he thought you had fallen asleep, he would pull you closer and run his hands through your hair, it nearly brought you to tears the touch too much but so wanted.

Hovering over Wolfwood you hear him sigh, he turns his gaze up and catches your own gaze. “I understand why you're upset, it was stupid. But that doesn’t mean I regret it.” You say it sternly to him, he stubs the cigarette out on the windowsill and then stands. You don't back down, he looks like he wants to fight, but then his shoulders drop and he rubs a hand over his face.

“I'm too tired for this shit.” you jump when he grabs your upper arm and drags you towards the bed, a thrill shoots through you when he pushes you onto said bed. You laugh as you move to lay under the covers, and he joins you. Rolling your eyes when he lays on top of the covers, but you won't complain you're getting what you want in the end.

Slowly hands still unsure you reach for him, curling into him as you rest your head on his chest. “I'm still mad.” he says it quietly bringing his arm around to wrap around you, “I know, but we're both here don't go down that dark place Nico” you lean into him more, as he doesn’t answer. Just wraps his arms tighter around you.

Sleep comes easier to you when you’re with Wolfwood, closing your eyes you let out a little sigh. You grin when Wolfwoods hands run through your hair, “You’re such a sap.” You whisper, “And you’re supposed to be sleeping, or should I leave.” You laugh holding onto him tighter, “No I promise I’ll go to sleep.” you tease.

The nights were truly your favorite thing, you would never know what the next day would bring either danger or something else, but you could find peace in the night in the comfort of his arms.

#trigun #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede imagine #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #nicholas d wolfwood #wolfwood x you #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #wolfwood imagine #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x sister!reader #nicholas d. wolfwood

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bored-storyteller · 1 year ago

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WARNING: Angst and spoilers of Spider-Man: across the Spider-Verse. Implied Spider!Reader. I don't know Spanish so I limited myself a lot to try not to spoil anything, even though it's one of the best sides of Miguel. If anyone has any suggestions for me, they're welcome.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara x reader

The right part

You wouldn't be able to say exactly when you gave your affection and trust to Miguel; maybe it was that time when the world seemed a little quieter than usual -although it wasn't for real, of course-, where everything that was important was developed on orange screens and he, the big, thick, arrogant Miguel, worked with little Mayday crawling on his lap.

Spider-man's impassiveness hadn't made you aware of her sweet presence until the little red head had sprouted from over his shoulder, she had looked at you with those big bright eyes and she had smiled at you smugly.

You laughed tenderly and at that point Miguel too turned to look at you to understand what you found so funny.

Well, maybe that was the moment you thought that Miguel O'Hara really could be the really good guy.

But in the same way he can't tell when you became a partner, someone that he should have protected in the first place.

One evening you had dragged yourself to him at his request, evidently exhausted after a mission out of dimension. He could imagine you were tired, but he needed you, and you hadn't complained.

You sat side by side, in silence, each concentrating on his own part of the analysis you were doing.

"A little more..." you had started to murmur at one point, and he remembers it well, because when he had looked at you out of the corner of his eye, it was the first time he had seen you with your sleepy face. Yet, despite this, Miguel didn't expect to feel the weight of your head leaning gently on his shoulder.

Your efforts to stay awake had melted away, and in that moment your face was calm, your cheek pressed against his muscle and it genuinely felt like not even an earthquake could wake you.

As much as he should have woken you up, there was only one thing that was buzzing in his head at that moment: you had completely abandoned yourself to him. You were one of the best people around there in his judgment, and you trusted him enough to completely lower your barriers with him.

"What would I do without you?" He had thought unfiltered in his head, and that fleeting thought had slowly become essential.

And you had become a problem.

Miguel couldn't think of you as someone who could be on the wrong side, at least in big matters, so when you first mentioned that maybe he could let Gwen visit Miles Morales he thought you didn't really understand the situation

"I admit it's risky but...do you really think you can keep them away from each other?" You put your hand on his arm, reassuring, and for a moment he feels you close and accomplice, but you kept talking: "they can change things."

Neither he nor you knew what things two unconscious little teens had to change, but he wasn't surprised that your sensitivity was moved by their distance.

And it hurts him that before your eyes he was passing for the villain of the situation.

“No soy el malo.” He'd muttered to himself, in a vague plea to make that thought a reality, and then he'd turned to you trying to remain calm and maybe somewhat kind: “Look, I don't do it because I'm happy to do it. But I know what happens when the canon breaks, you know, and Miles Morales-”

“You can't compare him to you. It's different, the dynamics are different."

You'd interrupted him with a seriousness he'd never seen on your face, but he certainly wouldn't falter before you, though his eyebrows had drawn together in a look of painful questioning.

“It's the same thing, you know what I lost-” He tried to tell you, but you were even stronger.

"Your Life. But was that your life?”

You had spoken those words with a firmness he hadn't expected, and for a fraction he stood there motionless, speechless and out of breath, as if he had just been punched in the stomach, one of those punch that completely empty the lungs.

His subconscious understood the implication of that question, but he wasn't ready to accept it. But what if that meant giving up on you? Giving up what might really have been his, of that one Miguel O'Hara?

He didn't know how to react, because his claws were pressing, he wanted to shout, but it wasn't what he had to do, he knew it. He hadn't hit rock bottom yet.

You watched him expectantly, as if you were waiting patiently for him to woke up from too deep a sleep; but he saw the exact moment you gave up, the moment you looked down and started turning to leave.

And his hands had grabbed your shoulders: “Repítalo.” A break. "Repeat it."

He had growled it, a low growl that he really didn't want to let out though, because he didn't want to be like that with you, and he really didn't want to hear those words again.

But you weren't afraid, even though he was hurting you as he held you in his grip. His fingers loosened slowly, not enough to let you go but allowing you a softer, more careful touch.

There was a sorry stuck in his throat that desperately wanted to get out, but he couldn't take it, he couldn't.

“No, Miguel. Forget it." You told him with an infinite sweetness in your eyes, looking at him with a feeling that he was afraid to call by name.

Your hand had reached up, caressed his cheek and he, despite himself, had leaned a little against your palm, looking for your presence.

"I don’t want to hurt you." You told him, and he believed you and accepted it.

He couldn't and can't picture you on the wrong side, so you should be together, next to each other. Yet when he passes you to chase Miles Morale, Miguel knows you won't be with him.

You didn't try to stop the kid, despite everything and everyone, despite him asking you to.

You, one of the best people he knows. He can't believe you're choosing the wrong side.

“We are the good guys.” He says. “We are.” He repeats.

He repeats it to the crowd of heroes in front of him, but he repeats it to himself, to his chest and to his heart.

He's the good guy there, he must be. But you can't be the bad one.

He knows you'd subscribe to Mayday's raspberry if you weren't busy avoiding looking at him. He knows you'll be close to Peter as soon as he's gone.

He would like to tell you too that he doesn't need you, that he doesn't want you, he would like to save his arrogant pride and show you that it's not you who chooses not to be with him, it's him who chases you away. But Miguel O'Hara isn't heartless, he couldn't lie that stupidly.

You don't look at him when he stops in front of you, and he doesn't look at you either. He doesn't want to see when what might have been his life slips out of his hands.

“Are you going to hate me for this?”

If you're going to end his hopes, he wants you to do it now.

You're surprised, he knows it, you know you're now trying to study his expression - his pain - that he tries to hide from you.

"Let’s go out together." You say, your voice is cracked and weak “when this is all over, let's go out and have some fun for once. Okay?”

His instinct tells him to take you in his arms, but his fists clench and for a moment his eyes closed shut, pushing something inside him that threatens to come out.

Here is your special power, your disarming heart, your love for him that goes beyond tragedy. He knows you're not sure there will still be a together for you two when this is all over, but you hope so.

And as he walks away from you in silence, he knows that you are one of the best people he knows, the only future that still shines, and that you will try to save him. Maybe you won't succeed, because not even a hero can save everyone, but you will try, and you will believe until the end.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man: beyond the spider verse #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #angst #slight fluff

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marvelmymarvel · 2 years ago

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I Hate Your Friends

Tenzo x Reader

Synopsis: Tenzo had decided long ago that he hated your friends as they always put negative thoughts in your head. But this time they had gone too far.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

Springtime was always your favorite season for many reasons. The weather was nicer and the people were happier, but your favorite part was the napping. You didn't know why, but taking a nap in the afternoon with open windows made you feel serene.

You were lucky that Tenzo felt the same.

The sound of a mother scolding her child in the market below your apartment woke you first, eyes opening slowly as you took in the afternoon glow of your room. The weather had gone from hot to cool within hours, but you weren't complaining. It gave you an excuse to cuddle deeper into his arm.

You let out a soft sigh as you tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. More commotion from the market below floated through the air, making it difficult to fall asleep. Part of you envied Tenzo for being able to sleep through it, but on the other hand, it allowed you to admire him.

Pulling your face from his bicep, you let your eyes travel to where the tattoo resided. It was just red ink in a swirl shape, nothing special. But it meant more to you. Safety. Security. Home. Tenzo knew you loved it but didn't understand why, even though you've told him the reasons a million times before. He argued that the mask should bring you comfort, not the tattoo. And while he was right, he was wrong about one thing.

He'd remove the mask around you, but the tattoo - his strength - would remain. He would always protect you, keep you safe. Therefore, you loved the red ink more than you probably should. Your finger rose to the tattoo, eyes twinkling as you traced it repeatedly. You had become so entranced with it that you didn't even realize he had woken up. "Sometimes I wonder if you love that thing more than you love me."

You gasped, hand flying to your chest as you faked being hurt. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing!!" Tenzos lazy smirk made your heart skip a beat as he rubbed at his tired eyes, "I feel like you'd marry the tattoo but not me-"

"We both know that isn't true" Your whisper made him freeze, and he was thankful his hand covered most of his face. Meanwhile, you held your breath, waiting for him to acknowledge it. You had been with each other for years, and your friends were getting anxious that he had not once talked about marriage.

"I don't think he likes you, Y/n."

"Ya. Part of me is concerned that he's just using you!"

"You deserve better. You deserve someone who wants to marry you."

They were all cruel things to say, but you somewhat understood their point of view. What was taking him so long? Wasn't five years of dating long enough to begin discussing marriage? Your sigh seemed to jolt him from his shock as you exited the bed. Your face was full of pain and betrayal as if he had stabbed you in the heart.

"Y/n-"

"Are you not interested in marriage? Because if not, tell me. I can't keep listening to my friends go on and on about how they're married, and I'm not, despite us being together the longest of the bunch" Tenzo was feeling mixed emotions at your words. He was happy you were bringing it up, but he was sad you felt this way. He sat up in the bed to face you better. "Of course I'm interested in marriage-"

"Just not with me?"

Tenzo sighed, eyebrows crinkling together as he rubbed at his face in anger. Your friends were the worst, he had decided that long ago, but he hated them a little extra right now for putting these negative thoughts in your head. Real friends don't make you question things like this. Real friends reassure and point out instances that would counter those negative thoughts.

"Yes, with you. Why in the world would it not be with you?"

"I don't know, you seem pretty reluctant to me. Five years is a long time!"

"Y/n"

"I mean, come on. You could bring it up occasionally, make me feel wanted."

Tenzo's heart seemed to stop at your defeated tone. He let his eyes drift to the dresser. "Swear to God I'm going to kill your friends someday," he muttered as he moved from the bed to the dresser. You gasped at his statement, storming after him and angrily shouting for him to take back that statement. The drawer opened, and he rummaged through it. You didn't quite understand what he was doing, but the action made your anger disappear quickly—worries of him running away from you filling your body with an unbearable dread.

"Wait, wait, don't leave." Your fingers gripped him tightly, hands shaking as you realized that pushing him away wasn't the answer. Maybe he wasn't ready. Perhaps you had to be patient. From birth, he was trained to be a killer, a machine. He didn't know love when you met. You had to show him, teach him.

Marriage was a scary thing.

Tenzo let out a chuckle. Leave you? Why the hell would he do such a thing? He smiled when he finally managed to find what he was looking for. Pulling you off of him, he turned around to get a better look at you. Your eyes were wide with panic, and your lip was pulled between your teeth as you fought your gnawing anxiety. The sight was heartbreaking.

"I hate your friends."

They instilled this fear and doubt in your mind that he didn't love you and especially didn't want to marry you. They were lies. Tenzo nervously rubbed the box in his hand, and he suddenly grew shy. The blush started at his neck before it climbed to his cheeks. He has had this ring for three years now. He just never found the right time to ask you. Even now, it didn't feel like the right time to ask you. "Tenzo," your whisper was light and airy as you finally let your eyes drift to his fidgeting hands. He inhaled sharply as his gaze dropped to his hands, "I've, um, had this for a couple of years now. I just never found the right moment to ask"

He didn't look at you. Couldn't look at you. But he didn't miss the way your body relaxed in front of him. Shame started to eat you alive, hating that you listened to your friends about something they didn't know about. They didn't know the 3 AM talks when he'd get back from a mission, and he had to know how your day was. They didn't see how he held you close to help you fall asleep or how you rarely slept when he was gone. They never saw the loving gazes, heated kisses, and bone-crushing hugs.

They didn't know, but you did.

"I'm so sorry."

Tenzo sighed as you uttered those words. You didn't have to be sorry. In a way, your friends were right. He should have done this years ago. Silence fell between you both, and shameful tears fell down your face. After what you just did, you didn't think you even deserved to marry him. "Will you-"

"I don't know if I deserve you anymore."

He gripped the box at your words, fear shooting through him as you backed away. Your eyes were wide with panic, and only then did he notice you were crying. For every step you took away from him, he took two towards you. "Hey. Don't say that."

"I mean. I believed my friends over you. You deserve someone better. Someone more stable."

Tenzo shook his head at that as the grip on the box tightened, "I don't want anyone else, Y/n. I want you" he finally grabbed your wrist, stopping your retreat before you managed to run away from him. You didn't fight him off of you, you didn't have the energy to. He didn't know the right words even though Kakashi has coached him on this a million times, so he opted to place the box in your hand without another word.

You just stared at it. Not entirely processing that he was silently asking you to take it and be his forever. He let out a frustrated huff at your reluctance, this was not the perfect moment at all. But he needed you to know that he only wanted you, only needed you.

"Will you please marry me?"

Your e/c eyes flicked up to his dark ones. You should be happy. Should be overjoyed that you were getting what you wanted. But all you felt was sadness. "Tenzo I don't think-" His lips slammed against yours as he dragged you into his chest, tired of you acting like you weren't deserving of this. Like you weren't the most important thing to him.

The box fell from your fingers so you could grip onto him for support. His hold on you was tight as if you were going to float away if he wasn't careful. You pulled back for air, chest heaving as you tried to catch you breath "Tenzo-"

"The only word I want to hear from your mouth is 'yes'. Is that clear?"

Your eyes widened at the annoyance laced within his words. You knew he wasn't annoyed with you, he was just mad at your friends. You let out a sigh, mentally making a note to stop talking to your "friends" for their sake. Your eyes drifted to the box on the ground. It had opened upon impact with the floor and the ring laid haphazardly next to it. You smiled softly at it before dropping down to grab it, "Sorry I dropped it-"

"What did I say about saying anything other than-"

"Ya. Ya, I know. Sorry,'' you teased before standing up once more. Tenzo watched with bated breath as you examined the diamond in the afternoon sun. You slipped it onto your finger; it was beautiful and perfect. You took too long apparently as he pulled you to him, trying to encourage you to say that one word he wanted to hear. Your giggle filled the room as you rested your head on his chest, eyes watching dreamily as the light bounced off the diamond.

"Y/n"

"Yes, Tenzo. I'll marry you"

#tenzo imagine #tenzou imagine #yamato imagines #yamato imagine #yamato x reader #tenzo x reader #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto x reader

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