#I have never wanted to be scolded about God and morality by an angel this badly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

douxspider · 4 years ago

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— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. (3)

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) — Waking up at Reader's place, we finally get a glimpse at Arvin's POV. Though, while their relationship seems to be moving forward, it seems like the whole 'running away into the sunset' deal only happens in fiction.

+ this is the third part to peachy keen! (ao3 link)

warnings: angst, almost smutty but nothing explicit is written, mentions of murder, preston teagardin lmao, rated mature word count: 4,244 published: 9/24/20 ao3 link — part 1, 2

— — • — —

When Arvin woke up leaned against you, he felt his face turn into a beet shade of red. Slowly parting from your leaning form on the couch, he rubbed his eye, unaware that he had an actual decent rest in such a cramped position. He hardly ever felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed. Usually, attempts at sleep were mostly met with staring at the ceiling blankly, recalling haunting memories on repeat in his head.

His thoughts were blank when he fell asleep. Arvin was met with nothing but the television’s staticy audio and the sound of your quiet breathing.

He looked over to take in your features— what amazing features, he thought— and found his hand carefully creeping to the side of your face to brush the knuckle of a finger near your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it lovingly.

Arvin loved you.

He knew he shouldn’t— he knew he had no idea what love was— but within the few months spent together, Arvin knew he liked you too much to be calling it ‘liking’ and ‘platonic’.

That one stormy evening alongside memories of beating the hell out of Lenora’s bullies, blood and bruising splattering his knuckles like paint, he needed a place to clear his head. He needed a place that was quiet in every way shape and form. Arvin had been driving with a foggy haze before his eyes had locked onto McCann Boys. Arvin wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything, he just needed to sit somewhere other than a damn car where he could swerve into a building and die.

When he stepped in, the immediate smell of sweetness overloaded his senses, and he found himself hesitantly sitting down in a booth, wringing the cloth against his knuckles in a patterned fashion.

Then you approached.

And by God, had you been the prettiest sight to see. If it were on any other day, Arvin would’ve been sure to come up with better words than asking if he had to buy anything.

That’s not how you talk to a pretty face, his father would scold in his head, y’wanna smile at ‘er, and make her feel all sorts of butterflies. Y’gotta make her feel like the only girl in the world, son.

Arvin often had his father’s coaching in his head when it came to things like this. Though, it didn’t really make sense most of the time. His father didn’t live long enough to meet Arvin in his ‘girl phase’. This was more than a phase, he promised himself, looking at your resting form. And my, had the universe been so forgiving of him, making sunlight drawing from blinds rest on your features, highlighting your skin and making you look like a pure, unadulterated angel.

He wanted you.

Arvin bit his bottom lip. He wanted you so bad. He wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to take you away from this lowly place in Ohio and bring you somewhere nice, somewhere with beaches and sunshine, away from disgusting preachers, dried blood and judgmental eyes.

Realizing the first time you went to that church, Arvin could see the way that no-good priest looked at you. He knew what that man did to Lenora. He knew everything. Arvin got up from the couch, his fists turning stark white as he paced towards the apartment door, red building at the sides of his eyes. Arvin had to protect all the girls in town. He had to. For Lenora, for Y/N. He had to go and—

“Arvin?”

Hearing a voice that reminded him of bells, Arvin turned around, seeing you slowly rise up from the couch and looking over to make contact with him. “Where are you going?”

Your sleepy tone was so amiable. Your eyes were so dazed, blinking as you gave a small sniffle, scratching at your shoulder.

“I was…” Arvin trailed off before coming back towards you, kneeling in front of the couch and giving a smile as he took your hand. “I was gonna get you breakfast. As a thank you.” A lie, but it was fine. He was planning on watching the priest. Though, breakfast didn’t sound too bad. Time with you was worth more than anything else. You were all he had, next to his grandmother and uncle.

You smiled. He melted a little inside.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” you murmured as you clutched onto his hand. Your eyes were studious, flitting around his body, and he suddenly felt small. “Are you okay? I’m sorry about the sleeping stuff… if your neck was stiff, I mean, I’d feel bad—”

“Y/N,” Arvin spoke sternly, “that was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your eyes turned round, diluting slightly once they met the sunlight.

Arvin could hear his father’s berating tone in the back of his head. Say it. Be a man. He looked at the ground, holding onto your hand for dear life, uneasily balancing his weight on his knee. Though, Arvin couldn’t say anything. Nothing was coming out. There you were, waiting so patiently, being so patient with him, and he was at a lack for words.

Words wouldn’t fix this. Only action. Action would fix everything, Arvin knew this. He was taught this. He was always better physically expressing his thoughts and feelings than vocally or emotionally.

Releasing one of his hands from yours, he curved one underneath your palm and pulled your soft, untouched knuckles against his lips, giving a kiss. These knuckles have never hurt a soul. This being had never hurt anyone. Arvin would make sure it would stay that way.

He glanced upwards, his cap altering his view slightly, and he could make out the way your cheeks turned a different shade, inviting lips gaping slightly.

Smiling against your skin, Arvin moved his free hand to the top of yours and gazed at you. To his surprise, he watched as your thumb rolled circles against his own. You were smiling, and it was a smile to take in. Oh, it was.

“You’re sweet, Arvin,” you giggled so beautifully and he wanted to listen to his name coming out of your mouth on repeat, “...I kinda want donuts.”

Arvin couldn’t help but give a laugh under his breath at the change of moods. He stood up, continuously holding your hand as he refused to let it go, and said, “Let’s get donuts, then.”

—

He was angry. He was a pot boiling. Staring at Preston from afar, he watched from his car as the man interacted with a female shopowner who was fresh out of highschool. Arvin’s leg bounced within his vehicle, the sun setting, and he continued to survey.

Preston would interact with girls other than his wife. He would bring girls into his car and do unspeakable, unlawful things with them, then proceed to go back to the place he calls home and force himself onto his wife.

Arvin clutched onto the wheel.

While Preston was a horrible man who deserved the worst punishment from all graces of any lord, he found himself growing frustrated. Not even just about Lenora or all the sweet innocence the man took, Arvin found himself growing frustrated at his own damn self.

He would think about Y/N.

No, not doing such acts as those forcefully, imagining the same power dynamic, he would never. He meant it when he said he didn’t hurt girls. Arvin despised the man. He despised him and he wanted him gone. He wanted that man to suffer for what he did to his sister. Though, at points, he would drive up to your apartment and stare at the window that belonged to you. He would lick his chapped lips and his hand would shake as it reached the door handle. Then, Arvin would grow a clear sense of mind, he would receive clarity, and he would drive to the opposite side of town just to avoid even thinking about touching you in such a passionate way.

After a few days, Arvin decided.

He’d have to leave you behind.

He loved you, but he also loved Lenora, and Lenora deserved justice. Arvin could hear her voice already, pleading for him to let it go. To just let the man be. To leave. Do anything else. Settle down with you somewhere far, far away, start a life, start a family. Be free.

“I ain’t ever let anything go, ‘Nora.”

The priest was dead.

Arvin’s blood rushed through his veins as the sun set on the horizon, him zooming through the city streets, eagerly approaching your apartment.

God, it was a thrill. The adrenaline coursing through his veins after watching the damned predator fall onto the church floor bleeding from his wounds was cathartic. It made Arvin’s head whirl and turn dizzy. He had no moral thoughts, he was no longer moral, no longer a man that could be forgiven. Arvin felt the rage that built up within him for years be released with three gunshots, the guilt and agony of being alone and misjudged by any person left behind within the church.

Sitting in the car and hearing the blinker click at him, he turned it off once pulling into the lot. He took off his cap, carding his fingers through his hair, debating if he was really going to let you go.

Y/N offered a future he couldn’t take. It hurt more than anything.

Arvin glanced up at your patio, seeing you move from behind the window. You were only a silhouette. You were yet to be discovered by him in this manner, this new Arvin Russell. You wouldn’t recognize him, he thought, he wouldn’t recognize you.

It would be a completely different take on his life. He was no longer himself. Was he better, or worse? Was he a criminal, or a vigilante? Arvin didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t set in yet that he was no longer only capable of beating bullies shitless. He was so much more than that. He was more.

Arvin could do anything.

It was dark out. He finally found the courage to yank open the door handle and step out of his car. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing to lose.

Entering the apartment’s doors, smelling various spices of cooking or hearing children laughing from very muffled walls, Arvin found himself stomping up the steps, his heart beating against his ribs uneasily.

Staring at the room, noticing that the others around were vacant, Arvin could just about do anything. No one would know.

He clenched his fists a few times before finally knocking on the door with his knuckles. It was like the first time you two had met, his very knuckles expressing his pain and anguish, and you read onto the signs of a lonely man seeking solace. Arvin was still bruised and broken; just not in any place where you could see it.

You opened the door, and your mouth opened before closing abruptly. Arvin knew he must’ve looked like he just killed someone. Well, he did, but you didn’t know about that.

Arvin wanted you. Though, he’d be careful, you were the one delicate thing in his life. He had to treat you with care. He had to treat you so gently this night, for it would be your last with him.

Taking a step inside, he moved his hand up and cupped your cheek, moving his thumb— once holding a gun used to kill— so that it wiped gingerly beneath your bottom lip. Your jaw fidgeted slightly as you were attempting to find words. Though, your hand didn’t disagree with his actions. Instead, it met the back of his palm, planted gently on top of his own hand that held your cheek.

Confident, Arvin moved in closer and pulled you towards him, meeting your lips with his. You made a soft noise in your throat and it set Arvin’s mind on fire. Flames danced between your faces, and he felt you eagerly kiss back, your arms snaking across his shoulders as he found himself kicking the door with the back of his heel to close it shut.

Your hands found themselves on the surface of his head and pushing off his cap to knot fingers in his hair. Arvin didn’t even care. His body was burning underneath your touch as he found himself pressing you against the nearest flat surface, which was your dining room table that held a vase with hand picked flowers resting inside and a sweet floral mat keeping it level. You were so adorable, he swooned in his head, you were so precious to him and oh so good. You’re so good.

Wife material, Arvin’s head was screaming, he wanted to steal you away and marry you. You were lifted onto the mahogany table, Arvin’s tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You were so good, submitting your mouth to him, letting him roam the inside and clutch onto your hips so tightly it could bruise. Feeling your soft, untouched, blessed hands clutch onto his belt line had him push his pelvis closer to yours.

“Arvin—” you attempted, but he wouldn’t let you. No, he wouldn’t let you worry. You didn’t need to worry about anything, not with him around. He was your protector, he would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let you die or leave. He wouldn’t let you be hurt by anyone. Thinking about keeping you close to him in his arms, just this close, making you sigh from pleasure as Arvin plastered kisses down your jaw and to your neck to test the waters of what made you quiver; it was enough to drive him insane.

He found his teeth scraping at your flesh and you gasped, arching your body upwards and he felt your hips grind against his middle. It made him give out a guttural growl of need.

“Arvin, wait— wait, honey, stop—”

Arvin didn’t want to. Though, he would, just for your sake. He lifted his head up to meet yours, and once you made eye contact with him, your expression changed from flustered to concerned. Nurturing. Your hand met his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing itself underneath his eye, and he moved a hand to hold your wrist and gently kiss your palm.

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, as if you raised it any further it would blow Arvin away. “What’s going on?”

He wanted to tell you everything. You were so kind, you were everything, you were the sun and stars and sky. Nuzzling into your hand, he murmured, “Nothin’...”

“It’s clearly something if you come into my apartment and start kissing me like this, Russell,” you spoke, his last name strong in your city accent. Your voice was so stern, so dead set on uncovering him, and Arvin gazed at you, still high from revenge and loving you.

He hesitated. Arvin pinched his lips together, licking them faintly, still tasting your lip scrub on them.

Your warm hands met his burning face, handling them so sweetly. “You don’t need to give me specifics,” you started, “...just give me something, Arvin, so I know you’re in your right mind.”

Your name made his eyes flutter shut, nudging his nose against yours. “Say m’name like that again, sweet girl…”

“Arvin.” Your tone was more of a warning. It pulled him back from the sea of desire.

Arvin sighed, mumbling, “I had a revelation, darlin’…” his thumb rolled circles into your wrist, “I had a good day… ‘m a free man, Y/N. I wanna share this with you.” He opened his eyes to see you gazing at him so sweetly. “Let me have this night with you, pretty girl. I wanna make you feel as good as me. I’m sober, I promise, ‘m just intoxicated by the thought of you.”

“Such a flirt,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt himself smirking.

“Only for you.”

Your beautiful, reflective eyes stared into his. Then, they shut, and you moved your head forward to slowly encapture his lips. Arvin was more than eager to requite this. Fervor filled his loins as he clutched your thigh once it was squeezing against his side.

“Sweet baby girl,” he whispered into your ear, “Can we move this to your bed?”

—

When Arvin woke up, he had never felt more exhausted. He was hit with a newfound clarity. There was a soft gray shade leaking from the windows, and he squinted at the clock from across the room— wiping the fogginess from his eyes— and took notice that it was in the early hours of five a.m. Arvin went to move, but was barricaded by something clinging to his side.

His eyes were round as saucers as he took a hold of your nude bodies entangled.

Flushed, he quickly whipped his head back ahead, staring at the ceiling.

The confidence he had last night was almost embarrassing. Though, he licked his teeth and looked back to you, his fingers carding through your hair. Your hair was so soft to the touch, so perfect for someone like you, never missing the latest trends.

Arvin gave a hum of contentment, taking in your features in the early morning. Last night was full of unbridled desire, a fervor that the both of you had been bottling up for who knows how long. Perhaps, since that rainy day in the bakery, there had been that weird spark that compelled you both to do this.

He buried his nose in your sweet scented hair, pressing his lips against your warm forehead, hearing you shuffle and murmur under your breath. You were still very much asleep.

Taking in your sleeping face for the last time, Arvin gave a pained smile. He didn’t want to leave you at all. He wanted to keep you forever— he wanted to wake up to this every day— but he couldn’t let you become an accomplice. Arvin had to protect you.

With that, he managed to sneak his way out of your koala arms and legs and get dressed in his old clothing. Reading over the letter he wrote yesterday, Arvin felt his heart break with each word. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better than him— someone who could keep themselves together, who wasn’t so haunted by the past. You came to this city to escape yours, and he couldn’t drag you into his. He had to escape too. Some part of him knew you would understand that with time.

Arvin had stopped by a bakery quickly, ordering a lemon and poppyseed muffin with the most bittersweet feeling, coming back to your room to see you were still dead asleep.

He placed the muffin box down on the nightstand and folded the letter so that it stood up with your name on a proud display. Arvin’s hand wringed its way through his hair before he stared at his ragged blue cap for a moment, placing it alongside the muffin and letter.

Arvin leaned down to kiss you on the lips briefly, you giving a sleepy hum, pursuing your lips lazily before drifting unconscious again. He noticed that the sun was just rising.

The sunset brought a bit of hope. He watched you sleep for a bit, the purple turning into a golden on your features, before he made his exit.

—

Your body felt like jello. Giving a groan, your hands scavenged the sheets for the warm body that accompanied you that night, but you were left with a cold absence. Cracking your eyes open and grunting at the shine of the sun, the clock spoke nine a.m, and you were surprised Arvin was not with you.

You licked your lips and sat up. Stretching your spine, you noticed you were nude and blushed, pulling the sheets up your chest. “Arvin?” You called, noticing the lack of your friend— lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits?— and gave a long exhale. Luckily you had the day off, as convenient as that was.

Looking over, you noticed the hat, muffin box, and letter. Your name was in bold pencil, and you tilted your head curiously before leaning over and peering through the plastic cover. You smiled and saw the dark spots of poppyseeds on the treat. It was sentimental, and your heart nearly burst.

Gazing at the hat, you were inquiring if he just managed to leave it behind.

You decided to take the letter, opening it up and not preparing for what you’d read.

Y/N,

You’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am too. If you asked me right now, I wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

I did something that can’t be forgiven. Maybe not by the Lord, definitely not by law, uncertain by you. I don’t want you to worry. I’m safe. I can’t come back. I can’t give you a number or address. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know who I will be.

The world ain’t been kind. I know it ain’t been kind to you either. I don’t want to make things even worse for you, sweet girl. You’re everything I didn’t deserve. You said to me a long time ago that I deserve good, but I don’t. You are such a good girl, so much so I can’t have you. A part of me wants to be selfish and keep you. I know I can’t. I can’t do that to you.

You’re gonna hear about that preacher man. You’re gonna hear things about me, probably. I just want you to know I did it because I had to. You need to know that. I couldn’t be alive knowing Lenora wasn’t and he was. I’m sorry, baby.

I’m sorry for leaving you. I don’t want to. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be with me right now, pretty girl. I’d give everything just to see you every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ever since that day where you forgave me for the first time for my sins, smoking and drinking black coffee, I know what else I could fight for. I know what I could have just for myself. The sad part is, God is a sadist, and he won’t let me have you.

You asked me if I like Puppy Love, and I do. I’m listening to music for once as I write this, and I understand all the stuff they cry about on the radio. I know what it means to love. My heart ain’t ever been this broke before, sweetheart.

I love you, Y/N.

As I said, we’ll be seeing each other again. Look out for postcards from my initials.

A.R.

When you finished, wet spots had been dotting the paper, and the last two initials were the final nail in the coffin. You let out a choked sob, leaning over to clutch onto the paper close to your chest. You collapsed onto the sheets, weeping, unable to comprehend. You kept asking why, why, why, even though it was right in front of you.

You flipped the page, noting the sweet lyrics on the back.

I cry each night, my tears are for you, my tears are all in vain, I hope, I hope and I pray, that maybe someday, you’ll be back in my arms once again.

Sniffling and wiping at your nose, you gave a few sobs, pressing your palm against your damp cheeks until they turned red.

You folded the paper and placed it back on your nightstand, curling in on yourself, clutching your sheets that still had Arvin’s presence lingering on them. Pressing them against your wet, hot face, you gave a few soft wheezes.

How could you tell Arvin you loved him, too? How could you write back to him? How could you sleep at night, not knowing he was okay? That there was no way you could tell him you’d wait forever for him?

You must’ve managed to doze off, as the sun was no longer as golden as before. The skies were a clear blue, and you managed to tug on tolerable clothes. Standing on your patio, you clutched the metal railings, staring down at the town with dismay. He was no longer here. This town no longer held that charming spark that you’d learn to love.

Walking back inside, you gazed at the letter, muffin, and hat. Leaning over, you grabbed the blue cap and rubbed your thumbs against the torn fabric, pressing the lid against your lips and kissing it. At least you had this— something you rarely saw him without. He gave you this, and your heart soared at the thought. Placing it on the top of your head, you took the lemon and poppyseed muffin and headed towards McCann Boys.

Marilyn perked at your presence, speaking, “Sweetpea, it’s not your workday.”

“I’m here as a guest,” you murmured, gazing at her, and Marilyn’s eyebrows rose at your expression. She gave a sorry nod at you, continuing to swipe down the counters.

You sat in the booth you and Arvin met at, and you took your seat, gazing at the ashtray emptily. Picking at the muffin, you fixed your cap to hide your face.

The radio near the coffee player began to sing. Your heart dropped, and you recalled the oh-so familiar lyrics.

...This is not a puppy love.

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #the devil all the time #arvin #reader #reader insert #peachy keen #sfw #M #my writing #douxdamian #fic #tdatt #tom holland #multichap

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deniigi · 4 years ago

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anyways the discord has fucked me up 6 ways to hell.

Have some Sam/Ned/Peter/Johnny/MJ

Because we couldn’t pick a ship and we discovered Sam/Ned, and now we’re all devastated by it.

Title: Anenome’s an Enemy

Summary: The polycule welcomes Sam into its ranks.

Notes: So the polycule consists of Ned, Peter and MJ who are all romantically involved and established. Peter is also in an on/off relationship with Johnny, but Johnny is just friends with Ned and MJ. Oh. And these are Inimitable Verse characters.

It started with Ned and MJ reading the texts from the groupchat in order to psychoanalyze Peter’s teammates.

This was not new.

Peter let them read the bullshit fairly regularly. It was only fair that they got to see what he was giggling about.

What was new was Ned asking who BT was.

Peter had thought that they’d met at Matt and Foggy’s wedding, but Ned couldn’t remember Sam being there, and, to be fair, Peter had noticed that Sam had an extraordinary ability to blend himself into the background when there were multiple people having a conversation.

MJ barely remembered Sam, too, for that reason precisely, so Peter asked Sam if he could send a selfie ‘for the home team to admire.’

Sam said that he wasn’t comfortable with that.

It was super surprising.

Peter apologized for asking and Sam waved it off, saying that he just didn’t know how to take selfies for anyone besides his sister and friends and he just didn’t want to screw it up. Which was code for ‘I am actually really fucking uncomfortable with this whole thing; please don’t ask me why I’m saying no.’

Peter dropped it.

MJ didn’t forget about it, though, and so he had to explain that Blindspot was a little camera shy.

Ha.

Get it?

Because Blindspot?

Ned told him that it was kind of weird that Sam didn’t want to take a picture for him when he was cool taking them for his other friends; MJ said that it was probably because he didn’t want her and Ned to see his face and Ned relented a little bit.

“We’ve already met him, though?” he pointed out. “Surely that was worse in this scenario?”

Well. In Sam’s world, it was probably better, actually, Peter thought. In real life, he could smile and duck out of sight and stay out of range. A picture was forever.

“He’s probably got a reason,” MJ continued. “Or his folks were probably those ‘put it on the internet and it never goes away’ types.”

Uh.

Probably?

“I think,” Peter said quietly, because he didn’t actually know—because Sam never actually said the words out loud—“That he might be undocumented?”

He got two sets of eyes his way immediately.

“Oh,” Ned said. “That’s completely understandable then.”

“Yikes,” MJ said. “Does he need help? I’ve got some stuff saved if he needs legal stuff.”

No. No, Peter thought that Sam probably knew more about his situation than any of them did. He knew what kind of help he needed and he might take offense at links or brochures passed his way, so he shrugged and told the others that Sam probably had the situation under control.

The other two dropped the subject after saying that the next time Sam was in the area, they should all get dinner or something.

Peter extended this invite to Sam and got back a simple ‘thanks 🙂’.

Sam didn’t talk to him for the rest of the week.

At about week two of radio silence in the chat and in personal texts, Peter asked Matt if he’d overstepped.

Matt didn’t answer the question. What he said was that, as far as he could tell, Sam was okay at work and in their training. He noted that Sam went through cycles of being very open and chatty and then withdrawing into himself for days and weeks at a time. He left it at that.

He didn’t say ‘he has been violently reminded about all the shit he can’t do and is protecting himself from you and your ilk.’

He didn’t say that.

But Peter still felt it.

SM: hey BT, hope you’re okay. Didn’t mean to overstep the other day. Sorry about that. Let me know if you need anything.

BT: I’m okay

BT: I’ll let you know.

BT: ❤

MJ told Peter that he was blowing things out of proportion.

“If Matt says he goes through cycles, then he goes through cycles, Peter,” She scolded. “Matt can’t lie for shit. Not about people he cares about.”

…Right.

But what if—

What if—

“I just feel like shit because I don’t know how to make him feel better,” Peter admitted. “I feel like I broke his trust or something.”

“He’s not not talking to you,” MJ said. “He’s just not info-dumping. And you don’t know his life, it might not have been you making him feel bad. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your mistakes, you know.”

Right, right.

Yeah, he knew.

PP: hey matt did I fuck up?

MM: ?

PP: I think I fucked up. can you tell Sam I’m really really sorry?

MM: Sammy’s fine?

MM: He’s discovered jalapeño Cheetos and he and foggy are making my life hell.

MM: they’re both very cheerful right now.

MM: did something happen?

PP: I think so? I asked him for a picture a while ago for Ned and MJ and he hasn’t spoken to me in 2 weeks. I mean like really spoken. I said sorry but I’m not getting back more than 5 word responses

MM: ah

MM: he’s okay Peter

PP: is he really tho??

MM: lol

MM: yeah buddy he’s okay

PP: what is ‘lol???’

MM: lol

PP: Matt.

MM: I’m a confidante I cannot say. But it is very cute.

PP: ????

PP: Matt I’m spiraling

PP: can you just like tell me I haven’t single handedly ruined our friendship?

MM: HA

PP: MATT

MM: no can do. You’ll have to ask him, friend.

PP: god when did you turn into such a dad?

MM: when I got all these fuckin kids I didn’t ask for. Fuck off squirt

PP: I hate you too

MM: ❤

Johnny held Peter’s face between two palms and told him he was being a dramatic piece of shit and it was Johnny’s turn this month.

Johnny was offended.

Peter made sad sounds at him until he relented and agreed to come sit at the table with MJ to psychoanalyze all Peter’s Bad Friend behaviors.

Johnny did not like to sit at the table with MJ, mostly because MJ kept stabbing him with her eyes, but he came along and gave Ned a big hug in the doorway.

MJ stabbed him with her eyes for that, too.

Johnny paged through the texts Peter had screenshotted and printed out and tossed on the table with a collection of pens and after a while, blinked once and jerked his head up suddenly to stare into MJ’s eyes.

MJ glared at him languidly.

Peter sat on his hands, all highlighters and pen privileges having been revoked after the second guilt spiral two minutes ago, and looked between them, back and forth.

They said nothing to him.

They spoke only in narrowing eyes and squirming eyebrows.

Peter hated when they did shit like this.

“Peter,” MJ finally said after a good three minutes of awkward silence. “When you went back west to stay with Matt and Fogs, where did you stay?”

Where?

Well, their house?

“Where in their house?” MJ asked like she already knew the answer. She tangled a hand into her hair in exasperation. Johnny brought both hands up to his face to hide a huge smile.

Wh—

Where?

In the house?

Well, Angel and Louis had taken the couch and Ellie and Wade had been in the guest bedroom, so he’d stayed in Sam’s room with him.

Ned sighed loudly from the couch. His typing slowed down as he slouched lower and lower into the cushions.

Peter didn’t get it.

Why was everyone staring at him?

“Buddy,” Johnny said kindly. “You’re so fucking stupid, you make me look smart.”

“You are smart,” Peter said. “Why am I stupid?”

MJ held out her hand for his phone. He gave it to her without question.

PP: hey matt its MJ.

PP: does Sam have a crush on Peter?

MM: I don’t know MJ, does he?

MJ held the phone up to Peter’s face while Johnny shriek-giggled into his palms.

Peter felt a little like jelly.

All wobbly and shit.

“He likes me?” he blurted out.

MJ blinked slowly. Johnny pounded a fist against the table, wheezing.

“He thinks you want a picture for your friends,” he said. “He thinks you’ve friendzoned him. Oh my god. Peter.”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“Give me that,” Peter said, snatching his phone.

PP: matt this is peter this is not a drill

PP: he likes me??? Like likes-likes? Or just likes?

MM: why do you children keep asking me stupid questions?

MM: ask each other stupid questions

No.

“What do I do?” Peter asked the other two.

Johnny hummed and poked at his chin. MJ leaned over towards the couch with an outstretched hand. Ned took it in a show of moral support.

Once she’d powered back up, MJ turned back to Peter with infinite patience.

“Do you like him too?” she asked.

Did he—did he like Sam?

Well, obviously he liked Sam. Sam was funny and brilliant and always down to get in a bit of trouble. He was sensitive to others and he picked himself back up every time shit hit him.

He was warm.

His energy was warm. And welcoming. And he seemed to constantly be fighting that.

But he was Matt’s. Not in that way.

Like, he was Matt’s apprentice. Functionally, he was Matt’s apprentice, but actually, even back when Peter had just met him, he’d known that Sam was more than that to Matt.

Sam denied it. Matt denied it. But they were very, very close. Closer than Peter had been allowed to be with Matt.

Matt would fight to the death for Peter, Peter knew this; there had been a few close calls over the years. But Matt gave off this weird vibe with Sam.

It was a buzz. Peter felt it low in his neck. Humming.

The Spidey Sense didn’t like Matt being behind him when Peter was with Sam. It thought he was a threat.

And that? That was not normal. Matt had stood behind Peter for more than a decade and never, not once, had the Spidey Sense reacted that way to him.

Peter had told Wade about it and Wade’s eyes had softened. He’d clasped Peter’s shoulder and said that he was ‘touched as hell,’ which Peter didn’t understand at first.

He kind of got it more now.

Sam was Matt’s. What he was exactly wasn’t super clear. But Matt was willing and ready not just to die, but potentially to torture, for Sam and he didn’t fucking like anyone being too close to him—especially not another vigilante.

Sam was off limits.

Touch him and suffer the consequences.

That message was loud and clear.

So even if Peter thought that Sam was warm and brilliant and so easy to sink into, it didn’t matter.

Johnny and MJ and Ned considered this by drumming fingers on noses and chins and making humming sounds.

“Red seems okay with BT having a crush on you, though?” Johnny said. “He’s joking about it, after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want you to make the first move? You do kind of have a track record, Peter.”

That made a lot of sense actually.

“So what, I have to wait for Sam to say something or to get over me?” Peter asked.

“Pretty much,” MJ said. “Unless anyone else has a better idea?”

No one did.

Man, bummer.

Sam came back into contact a few days later like nothing had happened. He was concerned about definitions of seals. He needed people to help him work through them. Evidently, Matt, Foggy, and Kirsten hadn’t done the job.

Matt said nothing about no one, which was infuriating as always.

And so it went.

BT: heyyyyyyyyyyyyy peter

SM: lol hey you what’s up?

BT: m drunk

SM: oh word?

BT: Leilani told me no to taext no one butttttt I hate meself so here we are

SM: Leilani?

BT: fremd

SM: dude red said you finish all your girlfriends drinks?

BT: is my scared duty

BT: scared

BT: sacred

SM: sam you’re like 140 pounds

BT: 😘

SM: okay sure I’m proud of you. how many did you chug

BT: hey teach says that you’re a people eater is that true?

SM: people eater? No. I am spider

BT: hello spider I am dog

SM: ASDF:SAfasFDf

BT: no like he says that you go through people a lot

SM: I have a lot of exes

BT: oh neat

BT: I have none exes

SM: what?? Really??

BT: rly

SM: have you ever dated someone?

BT: I don’t date

BT: fuck em and leave em

SM: oh

SM: does that work for you?

BT: easy

SM: wow okay

BT: I don’t want to be your ex. Can we just fuck and say notging about it?

BT: nothing

BT: like it doesn’t have to matter

BT: donst have to go anwhere

SM: yeah. I’m down with that, I guess?

BT: !!!!

SM: I mean if you are. Next time we’re in the same area we can do smth

BT: nice

BT: I think Imma puke

SM: uh?? Don’t puke in bed

SM: BT?

SM: Sam?

BT: did not we’re good hey thanks

BT: that’s cool of you.

BT: I promise Ima a good lay ❤

SM: you could be more than that too, you know?

BT: Good night!!!

MJ held her face as Peter straddled her hips with his phone two inches from her nose.

Ned snickered.

“Help me,” MJ begged of him.

He shook his head. Peter shook his phone.

“Friend,” he said.

“Fuckbuddy,” MJ told him. “Don’t fall in love with him, Peter.”

Too fuckin’ late, babe.

Ned started shaking with laughter.

Once.

It happened once.

Kirsten was in New York for reasons. She brought backup in the form of Sam and some of his coworkers. They were on a 3 day mission, then Sam was catching a train to go help Clint out with a case down in Florida on Matt’s request.

Three days was plenty of time to get up to some shenanigans.

And Sam’s sides were tight. Strong.

Weirdly flexible?

“You’re great,” Sam told him immediately after their ‘shenanigans.’ “I’m leaving.”

Woah, woah, woah, there cowboy.

What’s the rush?

Sam, already back in his black hoodie, blinked owlishly and then squinted.

“Is this not how this works?” he asked.

Uuuuuuuh.

No?

“Stay,” Peter told him, pulling at his sweater. “Have dinner with me and my partners. They want to meet you.”

Sam smiled at him.

It was a bitter one.

“I’ve gotta jet, Pete,” he said. “For real. Thanks, though. Tell them I said hi.”

When he left Peter felt a little like slamming his hand against the bedside table. But that would shatter the bedside table, so he laid back and let the self-loathing begin.

Johnny thought that Sam was maybe a little insecure and so Peter should chill the fuck out.

“He’s probably never been with a polyamorous person,” he told Peter. “He might be trying to respect MJ and Ned.”

That made sense.

Too much sense.

“And anyways, your agreement was ‘fuck and leave,’” Johnny said. “If you want more than that you’re gonna have to—”

Don’t say it.

“You’re gonna have to—”

Stop singing.

“You’re gonna have to communicate, boo-bear.”

Fuck off.

No words. Only unrequited feelings and misery.

Johnny laughed.

“You’re a mess,” he said.

Whatever.

Okay, but once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern, no?

Matt sent a text to Peter that said simply ‘I will end you.’

That was basically proof, right?

That was Matt’s shovel talk, right??

MJ and Ned stared at him in horror.

“I think, Peter,” MJ said, “This is a warning.”

Yeah, a shovel talk. Peter had been through infinite shovel talks.

“Maybe you should talk to BT,” MJ said.

“Rephrasing that,” Ned said. “You should definitely talk to BT.”

Okay, fine.

SM: hey sam

SM: what are we doing, man?

SM: Matt’s threatening to end me

BT: ignore him he’s got zero right

SM: are you sure?

BT: I thought we weren’t talking about this

SM: I kinda want to talk about it?

BT: 🙂 I don’t

SM: oh

SM: sorry

SM: I thought that maybe there was just something more there?

BT: there isn’t. Sorry Peter.

SM: …are you sure?

BT: yes

SM: you’re kind of not giving me confidence that you’re sure, sam. Not enough emojis.

BT: I don’t want to talk

BT: thanks for trying tho!

BT: it means a lot ❤

SM: is it okay if I talk then?

BT: I will not stop you

SM: okay great because I’m kinda? Falling? For you?

SM: like you’re really cute? And funny? And insanely smart and really nice and super good at everything you do? And you have your ideals and you don’t waver?

SM: and idk if you know anything about me or my people that that’s uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh

SM: how to say

SM: my type

BT: I’m not a type 🙂

SM: no, obviously you’re a person. And I just.

SM: I’ve got love disease

BT: don’t say that word

SM: okay?

SM: are you uncomfortable?

BT: yes

BT: profoundly

SM: okay sorry I’ll stop

BT: peter I like you but I can’t be anything more to you

SM: ?? Why not??

BT: why not????

BT: because DD is my teacher, okay?? And you’re his mentee/brother/teammate whatever.

BT: and I’m not ruining what I have with him because I can’t control my fucking emotions.

BT: this is my shot.

BT: I only have one.

BT: and you’re great. You’re amazing. But I can’t throw it away.

SM: oh

SM: no yeah. That’s fair.

SM: sorry I didn’t mean to push

BT: its fine

SM: is that why you don’t date?

BT: I don’t date because no one cares.

SM: sam that’s not true

BT: can we just? Not?

SM: no? On this thing? No? People care about you? And they would be lucky to have you if you wanted them?

BT: I don’t want them

SM: are you aro?

BT: idk what that means

SM: Aromantic? You don’t feel romantic attraction?

BT: I still don’t know what that means

SM: okay well if you are, then that’s totally cool just so you know.

BT: I’m sorry

SM: don’t be sorry, you’re fine. I was the one pushing.

BT: no this is how it always goes. I’m sorry. I’m just gonna step back if that’s okay

SM: ? you don’t have to. Lol. If you think a rejection is the kind of thing to put a dent in my relationships with people, you got another thing coming pal.

BT: I didn’t mean it like that

SM: it’s okay if you did

SM: but sam you also know that it’s okay to be known a little bit, right?

BT: its not.

Hhhhhhhhhhng.

“Peter,” Ned said. “Bud, look at me.”

Peter did--with maximum misery.

“I love you,” Ned said. “You are cornering this guy.”

FFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffuck.

“I’m never texting again,” Peter said.

“Bro, chill,” Ned said. “He likes you, okay? He literally said that. And he also said that he doesn’t want to fuck things up with his teacher. We know that Matt’s polyamorous. We know that he gets it. But does BT know that? Have they actually talked about this kind of thing? Hell no. Matt won’t talk to Foggy about romantic shit, why would he talk to BT about it?”

Fffffffffffffffffffffair point.

“Dramatic,” Ned scolded. “Here, let me try.”

Beg your pardon, sir?

“I just want to calm him down,” Ned said. “You know, apologize for my idiot’s pressure.”

Ah.

Right.

Phone’s all yours then.

PP: hi BT, this is Ned. I’m peter’s bf.

PP: listen man I just want to say that you’re completely fine. Don’t worry about this stuff too much. Me and MJ don’t mind you two hanging out and doing stuff. We’ve already talked through a lot of this for another guy.

PP: but also like, if you like Peter, that’s okay? He’s infuriatingly likeable. I know, I’ve been here since 3rd grade. If that feels weird to you, though, it might help if you talked to Matt about Kirsten and how they came to be.

PP: it’s okay

PP: whatever you decide, I promise: it’s okay. And you seem super nice and you make my partner really happy (fuckin dopey tbh) so if you ever just want to come and chill, that’s totally good. We’d like to meet you at some point, but no pressure if that makes you uncomfortable.

PP: I’ll be honest, BT, I don’t know much about you.

PP: MJ’s started following you on twitter tho and she says youre funny af. So if you want to join the nerdcrowd over here (unless you’re startrek trash) you’ll always be welcome to our place.

PP: anyways sorry that Peter’s Like That™

PP: he never learned how to quit

PP: hope you get a moment to chill and process dude. –Ned

Read 12:24

BT: are you sure?

PP: oh hey. About what?

BT: all of it?

PP: yeah man I’m sure. MJ is too, she’s just on Peter-beating duty rn so she can’t come to the phone

BT: ok

PP: hey are you shy?

BT: what? No. why do you ask?

PP: no reason. you just seem a little shy.

BT: ☹

PP: lol

PP: you okay?

BT: yes

PP: you want to process?

BT: no

PP: have you already processed?

BT: how do you know that?

PP: because you’re shy and I used to be more shy so you probably either talked it out to yourself or you called your mom or bff or something

BT: I don’t have

BT: sry yeah I talked it out with foggy

PP: you don’t have a mom?

BT: …or a bff. But there is foggy. He’s been helpful.

PP: dude how do you not have a bff? You need a bff

BT: I have plenty of friends ☹

PP: but no bff

BT: AND a sister

PP: but no bff

BT: I COULD have a bff. I just choose not to. For style.

PP: lolololol

PP: peter’s right you’re cute. Okay I’ve gotta give him back his phone before he implodes. Nice talking to you.

BT: okay byeee

Peter straddled Ned and held the phone two inches from his face.

This was witchcraft.

Dark magic.

The least he could do was share.

“I literally just took the pressure off, dude, I don’t know what’s hard about this,” Ned said while MJ watched them over the back of the couch like a cat.

“Teach me your ways, sorcerer,” Peter said.

Ned grabbed his elbow.

“You will never attain my power,” he said.

Peter dropped his full weight on top of him.

Sam came around eventually.

Peter’s heart fucking stopped. Johnny clapped for him when the text came in that said, ‘DD says he doesn’t mind and he’s already doled out threats. So? Do you maybe want to start over?’

Peter screamed.

Johnny took his phone from him and let him scream better.

“I want to seeeee,” Johnny hummed. “Give us a picture, Blindspot. Are you a little hottie?”

“Shortie,” Peter whimpered.

The phone went down and Johnny’s head came up.

“That’s deadly,” he said.

“I know,” Peter told him.

Sam was…how to say.

Light touch.

Skittish.

Not good with even the slightest bit of pressure.

Peter hadn’t realized how much of a front he put up in front of other people until he tried to get him talking about shit that mattered and only then did he fully realize the extent to which Sam was exactly like Matt.

Trying to steer him towards emotions and negotiation and heartfelt discussion was like telling a fish that it could only swim one direction.

Sam’s reaction in every case was ‘okay that’s fine, let’s never mention this again--also I’m not going to do that; you just do what you want to me and I’ll figure everything else out on my own.’

Mind boggling.

Zero skills in that department.

Ned thought it was absolutely adorable.

MJ thought it was funny as fuck.

“Matt is useless,” Peter told them. “Absolutely useless. He’s done this shit for twenty fucking years and he’s just letting Sam work it out on his own?”

“Maybe that’s his teaching method?” Ned pointed out.

No, it absolutely was his teaching method. But that was the problem.

Fuck.

“Sam,” Peter said on the phone a while later, “Listen, buddy. I recognize that you are allergic to feelings, but this is what we have to do to get what we want.”

Sam hung up.

Dude.

“Threatened,” Ned said. “Come on. Gimme.”

Ned accused Peter of not telling him that Sam was Chinese. Peter told him that Sam’s twitter was literally half-written in Chinese.

Ned accused MJ of not telling him that Sam was Chinese and MJ said simply ‘my bad’ and got away with that shit, like she always did.

Unbelievable.

Johnny asked if Sam was interested in a superhero-sandwich and Peter got to take his aggression out on his pressure points.

Still, though, Peter was kind of glad that Ned was leading the charge on this. Firstly, because Ned so rarely stepped into these things with authority and it was really warming and lovely to see him so interested in bringing another person into their polycule. And secondly because Ned had the lightest touch of them all.

Peter, MJ, and Johnny were all helmet heads wielding hammers. The only thing keeping them from self-destruction were all the YIELD signs they’d set around their circle.

Ned typically just waded in between them all to tug Peter and MJ out of the battlezone and into a semblance of humanity.

So it was nice—no, it was cute that Ned was developing a little crush on Sam.

MJ thought so, too.

“I do love fresh meat to tenderize,” she said.

Peter stared.

“That is not the vibe we’re going for,” he reminded her.

MJ waved him off.

“Peter.”

What’d he do now?

Ned held the phone seriously out to him.

“Tell Sam I want a picture of him to put on the wall next to my mirror,” he said.

Peter blinked.

“That’s creepy, dude,” he said.

“It will make him laugh and he’s still not comfortable sharing yet,” Ned said. “But he trusts you more than me.”

Ah.

Right.

Okay sure.

Peter texted.

Sam sent back only eye emojis.

Ah.

“So,” Peter said while Ned tapped a foot impatiently on the kitchen linoleum. “There’s something you should know.”

Ned cocked his head at him.

“Dude,” MJ said. “That’s wild.”

Sam’s eyes were, uh, how to say.

Inhuman.

Johnny shrieked, took the phone and climbed into Peter’s lap.

“He’s so cute, Peter, bring him home, I’ll be so nice,” he pleaded.

Johnny was not the one who was going to need reminders to be nice.

“How does he see?” Ned asked.

Uhhhhhhh.

Oh, you know…

Not well.

Johnny lowered the phone.

“He’s blind?” he asked.

“Not blind,” Peter said. “But low vision.”

The room seemed to go quiet for a minute.

“Is Matt his—”

“No,” Peter sighed.

“Are you sure?” MJ asked. “These coincidences are stacking.”

“No,” Peter repeated. “His dad’s Chinese. He was born in Fuzhou, I think.”

“Oh,” MJ said.

“So he can’t see very well,” Ned repeated.

“He does okay in daytime,” Peter said. “And he does best with high contrast. But like, pictures can be hard sometimes if they’re too light or too dark. He doesn’t really ask for much help, but he and Matt kinda puzzle over stuff if you’re not careful. And if you’re extra not careful, they’ll make their own memes and they’ll be full of blind jokes.”

The room held still for another moment.

“Okay, so what do we need to do?” Ned asked.

The first time the others met Sam, Peter had to chase him down the hall and even then, it was only via Matt’s aid that he was placed back in Peter’s apartment.

Matt pointed a finger at Sam’s eye and told him that he was to stay ‘right fuckin here’ until he was done at the courthouse.

“Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars,” Matt said as Sam tried and failed to bite that finger. “I want an intact paralegal by the end of this trip, and I will not have an intact paralegal if you go around gettin’ noticed by the fuckin’ Irish, yes?”

“I can take ‘em,” Sam said.

Matt sneered.

“I don’t know why I bother,” he said. “Stay. Those are orders.”

“Fuck your orders,” Sam shot back at him, to the horror of everyone else in the room.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘fuck your orders,’ whatever,” Matt said. “Stay put.”

Sam bared his teeth after him.

Only when the door closed, did he finally give notice that other people were in the room. Johnny lit up.

“You’re short and angry,” he said.

Sam rounded on him.

MJ loved Sam now.

MJ told everyone else to get out, Sam was the only person who mattered.

Johnny thought that Matt needed to come back and take his rabid dog with him. Sam told him to stay out of his face and they wouldn’t have any more problems, but, seeing as Johnny was incapable of not adding fuel to fire, Peter kept him behind himself for the time being.

Ned was probably the person in the most shock of Sam, however.

Peter forgot how Sam came off to other people.

Very unassuming. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. His prosthetics hid his black sclera, and even if he did tend to lift his face towards the light more often than other people, he did it so subtly, you’d think he was nodding along to a tune in his head.

Sam looked like your friend.

Your neighbor. Your classmate. The one with the baby face, you know.

His hair was getting longer, Peter noticed. He pointed it out and Sam softened enough to tell him that he was going for something a little more hipster.

“If I let it keep going, it’ll start swooping,” he told Peter. “The swoop is very in right now, Peter.”

Peter believed him.

He had no idea what that meant. But he believed him.

“You know what’s not in?” Johnny asked. “Friendly fire.”

Sad sneered at him.

“I ain’t know you from Adam,” he snapped.

Ned lifted a fist to his face in a sign that Peter recognized well and it took everything in him not to smirk and start teasing.

“Okay, let’s start over,” Peter said. “Sam, these are my friends, or, uh. Our polycule, if you will.”

He had Sam’s attention now.

“Polycule?” he asked.

Indeed.

“’Cause it’s shaped like a molecule,” MJ said. “And everyone here is also a nerd.”

Sam looked at her.

“You’re MJ,” he said.

“You’re Blindspot,” MJ said. “What makes you blind?”

“The trauma,” Sam said without missing a beat.

Peter waved Johnny off and set his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Sam’s made an invisibility suit,” he said.

He had everyone’s attention now.

“You did what?” Ned said.

Sam blinked and then shrugged a shoulder.

“What, like it’s hard?” he asked.

Oh yeah.

He was gonna fit in fine.

#samuel chung #peter parker #ned leeds #michelle jones #johnny storm #fic #ficlet #inimitable verse #the discord is going to destroy me truly #I love everyone in this bar #Matt is old and grumpy

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isthisthingeven0n · 5 years ago

Text

falling for the wrong person : t.s

brief summary: toddy providing comfort to you after a messy breakup

word count: 685 requested: yes by an anon - i hope you like the fluff angel :) warnings: shitty exes briefly mentioned

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

some of this is inspired by the song moral of the story by ashe. i love it and it’s all over my tiktok feed (also follow me on tiktok @isthisthingevenon because self promo amiright?)

“Where did you even find that guy?” Todd brings over a mug as you remain curled up on his sofa as tears continue to fall from your eyes.

Taking a long sip, you try to think about your response, but the pain burns like the heat to your lips.

“He was a total dick, honestly.” He scoffs before sitting beside you, wrapping an arm around you instinctively and glances down as you fall into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, you can do better than him. And what he said, that was all lies.” Todd tries to speak through his anger, seeing how broken you are beside him.

A small sigh leaves your lips as you take another sip, this time the burn isn’t as bad as you remembered. “Some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes, Todd.” You tell him quietly, focusing on the photo ahead of you with all of you smiling together, back in a simpler time.

“Hey,” Todd speaks up, taking the mug from your grasp before setting it down and averting his attention back to you. “you didn’t know what was going to happen, okay?” He focuses on your eyes as tears remain welled inside, he can see how vulnerable you are as you remain consumed in one of his hoodies, cowering away from the outside world.

“But I should’ve seen it.” You scold yourself.

“You were in love, Y/n.” Todd reminds you with a sad smile. “You were none the wiser about the real him.” He tries to explain, watching as you softly nod.

“How did I not notice it?” You question, finding yourself burying your mind into memories you’d blocked out. “Every fight, every dismissal, the comments, the isolation,” You reel off the memories as Todd tries to shut them out.

Todd will never forget the time you told him you couldn’t hang out. Simply because he didn’t want you around other men. It didn’t matter that Todd was your closest friend, he was another guy you could sleep with in his eyes.

“Stop.” Todd rests his hands on yours, making you flinch as you return to the room, a safe haven. “Listen to me, Y/n,” His voice softens as you squeeze his hands tighter, not wanting him to let you go. “he did not deserve someone as loving as you, and that’s a fact.” He states, feeling his heartbeat intensifying as you look up at him.

“You don’t have to just say that, Todd.” You brush it off, but Todd shakes his head.

“No, I’m not just saying it, Y/n. God, I’d never just say something like that to you.” He rambles, feeling his heart slowly rising from his chest as he is attempting to display it on a silver platter for you.

“But he did,” You whisper, still hearing his final words before he slammed the door in your face with a single bag of your belongings rammed inside. “I, I don’t know what to do, Toddy.” You admit, looking up at him and focusing on his gentle gaze. “Two fucking years, gone.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips before your sobs replace it.

“Come here,” Todd mutters as he holds you close, letting you cry into his chest as the tea becomes cold like his jumper from your tears. “I’m always going to be here for you. And I mean it.” He whispers into your hair as he rubs soothing circles into your back as your grip around him remains tight. “I’ll always be here. Because that’s what friends do, Y/n.”

Even if it breaks his heart to say it, he always will be there as your friend. He’ll always pick up the pieces that trail behind you and put it back together. It hurts, but nothing is more painful than seeing you in pain.

Sniffing into him you look up at his big brown eyes and force a small smile. “Thank you, Toddy.” You manage to stop your body from shaking for a split second, just catching a smile ghosting his lips. “What would I do without you?”

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years ago

Text

A bit of everthing in this new Chisaki Family au scenario of mine.

Misunderstanding

"MOM! GRANDPOP! UNCLE KURONO! ANYONE HELP! HE IS GOING TO KILL ME!"

The shouts of your son made you almost gag in your own tea as Pops look up at the door with one of his eyebrows arched up.

Your 15 years old son just barged in the room and closed the door shut before laying his back on it with heavy breaths.

"Oni-san?" Kin spoke, right besides Pops holding her own cup carefully.

"What's all that fuss and yelling about my soldier?" You asked while laying your cup down on the coffee table.

Your son, usual serious eyes just like his father, looked at you with wide and feared ones.

"I fucked up. I fucked up badly." He muttered before receivung a scold.

"Language young man, respect your little sister here." Pops said normally, patting her head "What happened my boy?"

"You two remembered that I am entering the high school right? And need to do exams for high schools."

You both nodded, unsure of what point exactly Kaito was trying to get.

"So.. speaking curt and short." He breathed in a sigh before freezing cold at the loud bagging. "Not. A. Sound." He mouthed to you three and you only shared a worried glance with Pops.

The bagging stopped and whoever was the person seemed to go away. But just when Kaito went to sigh in relief the door just exploded and from there, it came a VERY INFURIATED Chisaki Kai.

Fuming in rage, metal and bare hand curled up into fists as he sended one of the most terrifying glares of his to son.

"I'm screwed. It was a nice life, mom and grandpop, love you all, Kin don't forget to feed the cat and torment Irinaka for me." He said nonchalantly but still remained with his face of horror.

You got up in a instant and got in the middle of your son and husband hands on his toned chest that was rising and falling from his heavy breath.

"Kai calm down." You tried but his vision seemed completly darkned as he only growled in response.

"This brat. Just did the only thing. I always said to not to. And went againstnot only MY bit HIS OWN morals."

Pops got up as well, seing that the wrath of Kai wasn't going to vanish that soon.

"Chisaki, listen to your wife. He is still just a child." Kaito frowned at the elder's comment.

"He still have a brain and can think. But he still did it. Now he suffer the consequences for doing that just to anger me even more." He raised his hand to touch the floor before you gently grabbed his wrist.

"Kai. First of all, what did he do? You never got like this with him."

Kai furiously shoved his metal hand on his pocket grabbing a paper and showing for both you and Pops to see.

"Kaito... why?" You looked at your son, mentally slapping your own face as he still remained frozen in place as Pops only shooked his head.

"This time I agree with your father kid. He always let that clear, and even you share the same ideals about it just like him."

"I know but let me-"

"There's no excuse for this." Kai hissed as he showed the letter with more enfazis "Why. The actual hell. You subscribed to enter the high school of U.A Chisaki Kaito?"

Kai and Kaito had a argument just a few weeks ago, just before the day it had the date on the letter... and your older baby was going to high school now... but this was not only totally out of chatacter of your son but way too serious to be just a prank on his father.

"I..." he gagged, feeling way more nerbous than he ever felt on his life when one of the times his dad was mad at him.

"There is a difference between wanting to piss me off and making me angry Kaito. A very drastic difference." He growled darkly getting even closer to his son.

You told Pops to take Kin out of there as you were going to try to ease things down. Poor girl was with wide eyes at her father, especially at the state of anger he was.

"Explain. Or I might even do something way worse than you are thinking off."

"Ok. You want a explanation? Alright, just please stop looking like you're going to tear me apart." Your son begged monotonously as his father threw the paper at him with disgust.

Kaito sighed in relief before looking at both of you.

"There were some guys that always spoked bad about the yakusa. No matter how many times I scared them away or punched them to shut up, they would always talk behind my back."

You nodded as your husband's pacience was fading, especially when you noticed the boucing of his feet and the way his skin was appearing light hives.

"Spit it out." He spatted, not missing Kaito's flinch.

"Ok! ok! The main leader of these sick group is going to attend to U.A... so I planned on not only subscribing on my own choice of high school but also U.A to take his place and crush him on both exams to completely crash his dreams and make him lose the opportunity, then soon neglect the heroes offer."

You blinked in shock... this boy was getting more and more similiar with his father each day it passed and this was slightly concerning in some ways...

"This wasn't to piss you off dad I swear. I don't like the heroes... they are just looking for fame..." He holded the letter tightly on his hand, face crinched up in disgust as he stared down at his own feet "I just wanted that bastard Ohori to stop for once talking that we are villains or other atrocities of the Shie Hassaikai... I'm sick of it!" He threw the letter on the ground before squezzing his eyes shut to prevent any tears to fall from his (E/c) eyes.

You looked up at your husband, whose thank god had calmed down and only stared numbly at his son, arms crossed and eyes serious.

"Kaito.." you cooed, taking steps closer to your son before welcoming him in our arms, carresing his back as he trembled.

"This was all because you wanted revenge on the yakusa..." Chisaki stated quietly as he stared at his son, hidding his face on you as he still controlled his emotions.

"Kaito, attending to a high school that you clearly don't like is not the right thing even for yourself." You scratched his dark brow looks, noticing that Kai had picked up the letter from the floor.

"Your attitude was dumb, irresponsible and idiotic." You winced at your husband's venom, while he overhauled the letter and looked down at his son.

You let go of your teenager son, still with his gaze locked to the ground.

"That school not only is infested, but their exams xonsist on you to use your quirk, you could havs gotten wounded on that thing."

"But i know how to use my qui-"

"I didn't finished." He growled, glaring down at his son who winced at his tone of voice.

"Next time you use your brain brat, I know you have one. Me as your father, knows your own ideals about heroes, that are clearly not much different from mine, and I don't want my son to submit himself at such a thing." Kaito ckenched his jaw but still remained stuck, not glancing up at his father still.

He sighed before bringing his hand to pat his son head, carresing the familair dark brow looks, finally catching jis attention.

"But I am grateful to see that even after so many years, you still protect our honor Kaito. You have my gratitude for that son."

Kaito blinked up at his father before nodding with a monotonous hum, rubbing one tear away from his eye.

"You two I swear." You sighed catching both of your boys attention, the two of them arching one of their eyebrows up.

You laughed before bringing yoir son for a hug and kissing his temple softly, receiving a hearted grunt and a hesitant hug in response.

"I will call to cancel this whole thing." You muttered in the embrace receiving a thanks from your son before you stealed a glance at your husband, staring at you both.

"Come here." You chirped with a smile, extending your hand at your husband with a smile which he only glared at it.

You giggled before you pushed him anyway, noticing how his muscles tensed but soon relaxed.

"Leech." He growled as he slowly and awkwardly slowed one arm down as the other went to your shoulders.

"Oh hush we all showered." You pouted before he noticed you making a gesture with your hand at the door.

He flinched slightly at feeling his daughter hugging his waist all of the sudden and glared at you.

"I despise you woman." He growled while you sighed, givung him and your son a quick squeeze before letting go and bringing both of your chikdren close.

"Sk much that you despise me that we both had two wonderful half angels and half demons huh?" You grinned up at him, receiving a flip on your forehead.

"Shut your mouth."

He was thankful for his mask for hidding the half smirk of his.

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saranghae-hoe · 4 years ago

Text

PARTNERS IN CRIME [fanfic]

Pairing: sarawat x tine

Rating: M (depictions of murder, violence, blood, sex)

Summary: Sarawat didn't do it. He didn't do any of it, despite the evidence being stacked against him. The school, the cops, the victims...everyone was pointing the finger right at him. The only person who believed him was the one person who hated him the most, his combative roommate, Tine.

Tine just wanted a normal college life. Date pretty girls, make some good friends, get drunk, and maybe learn a thing or two if he had time. With Sarawat as his roommate, none of that was possible. Wat was being accused of the unthinkable and no one was on his side. But Tine knew Wat didn't do the things they said he did. As much as he hated the guy, his morals just wouldn't let an innocent person take the fall.

The pair are going to have to take matters into their own hands...work together and solve the crime themselves. However, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions...

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5 // PART 6 // PART 7 // PART 8 // PART 9 // PART 10 // PART 11 // PART 12 // PART 13 // PART 14 // PART 15 // PART 16 // PART 17 //

PART 18 (latest part)

Tine opened his eyes. Huh. He hadn’t thought he’d be doing that ever again. A stark white ceiling loomed over him. If this was the afterlife, it looked awfully sterile. His hearing finally registered the incessant beeping somewhere near his head. God...he was still alive. This was a hospital. He tried to take a deep breath, steeling himself for the pain that was sure to follow. There was pain in his ribcage, but not as much as he thought there’d be. They must have been pumping him full of painkillers or something.

He glanced over towards the source of the beeping. All the machines that had successfully kept him alive displayed each and every one of his vitals, his heart rate monitor easily cresting and falling. Well, if the machine said he was alive, who was he to argue?

A light snoring sound came from his other side, so Tine gingerly tried to shift over to see. Oh...him. Wat’s fragile-looking frame lay crumpled against the side of Tine’s hospital bed, his eyes fluttering as he dreamed, causing his lush eyelashes to shake slightly. Maybe it was the meds talking, but damn if he didn’t look like a goddamn angel.

He smiled, trying to raise his arm to touch Wat’s hair. The moment his still-bandaged fingers grazed over the man’s head, Wat shot up like he had been electrocuted.

“TINE!?” Wat yelled. “Tine! You’re awake!?” He tripped over his chair as he tried to run over to the panic button. When he finally made it, Tine could see Wat’s hands were visibly shaking. He struggled to get his fingers on target, finally succeeding in pushing it after a few tries. “Nurse!” He screeched into the little box. “Room 506 is awake! He’s awake!”

No one responded, but Wat whirled and came back to Tine’s side. Incredibly, he looked angry. Tine had barely been conscious for 5 minutes and already Wat was mad at him. He couldn’t help but smile again.

“What are you smiling about?” Wat snarled.

“You.” Tine said simply. His voice sounded weak and unused. How long had he...been gone?

Wat looked taken aback, his mouth hanging open a bit. Before he could recover, a team of hospital staff entered the room. “Mr. Teepakorn, how wonderful to see you awake.”

Tine blinked. “Have I...how long have I been asleep?”

The doctor looked at her clipboard. “Today’s your 9th day here.”

9 days? 9 whole days? Tine looked back at Wat. “Yeo…?”

Wat rolled his eyes and sighed. “He’s in jail right now, awaiting trial.”

He immediately felt his body relax. “Mr. Guntithanon,” one of the nurses addressed Wat. “If you don’t mind, we have some things to do here.”

A bit flustered, Wat stepped away from Tine’s bedside. “Oh, of course. Sorry.” Without thinking, Tine reached out to grab Wat’s sleeve, preventing him from walking too far. Eyes gentle, Wat looked down at him. “I’ll be right outside, okay?” Tine nodded, finally letting him go. “Besides, I’m not done yelling at you yet.” With that, Wat schlepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Not wasting any time, the nurses went about checking his monitors and getting his bed re-situated so he could sit up a bit. The doctor, meanwhile, took a seat in Wat’s chair. “So, Mr. Teepakorn...mind if I call you Tine?” Tine shook his head and the doctor smiled. “I’m going to go over your injuries, okay Tine?”

“Was I...going to die?” He asked, his voice barely audible.

The doctor looked serious. “You lost a lot of blood, Tine. Thankfully, you did make it to the hospital in time and we were able to give you several blood transfusions. After that, your condition did stabilize.” She didn’t sugarcoat anything and Tine felt a chill go up his spine. Had he really been that close to never seeing Wat again? He had resigned himself to that in the moment, of course. But hearing it again now that he was thinking clearly was an unpleasant reminder. “You wouldn’t open your eyes, but your brain function was normal so we had hope. As you may know, every day that passes without someone waking up means the probability of them ever waking up goes down.” Tine gulped. “So, Mr. Teepakorn, for the sake of your boyfriend out there, I wouldn’t recommend getting into this kind of trouble again.” The doctor scolded, but her tone wasn’t harsh.

Tine blushed. “He’s not, I mean, we’re not...um, did he tell you that?”

The doctor laughed with amusement. “No, but I’m not blind. Who else would stay here day and night even after all your other friends went home?” Tine felt guilt twinge in his heart. “Any little movement or change in you and he would be beating down the doors of the nurse’s station. I mean, for christ’s sake, he even volunteered to change your bed pan.”

“Oh my god!” Tine exclaimed, slapping his hands over his face, but the doctor just kept laughing.

“If he’s not your boyfriend, then I would suggest rectifying that ASAP." She smiled gently for a moment longer and then fixed her expression back into serious mode. “Well, everything looks good here, Tine. We’ll keep you for another day and then get you sent home for more rest. Luckily, your ribs were only cracked and not entirely broken and since you’ve been imobile for more than a week, that’s mending quickly. All your other wounds are healing nicely as well, so we’ll just need you to stop by every other day for fresh dressings, okay?”

Tine tried to process all her instructions, nodding incoherently.

Picking up on his lack of understanding, the doctor smiled again. “I’ll leave the instructions with Mr. Guntithanon since I think he’ll be taking good care of you.”

Before he could protest, the doctor and her nurses headed to the exit. A moment later, Wat slipped back into the room. “What’d she say?” He asked, his eyes flitting over Tine’s face.

“She said…” Tine stuttered, turning the doctor’s words over and over again in his head. Day and night Wat had been by his side, she said. “I can go home tomorrow probably.”

Wat sighed with relief. “Okay. Don’t worry, Tine. I’ll take good care of you at the dorm, okay?”

Tine shook his head. “You don’t have to.” He said reflexively.

Wat narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh?” He sneered. “Well too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

“But…!”

“Drop it, Tine.” Wat said with steel in his voice. “This isn’t up for argument. You’re done playing the hero. You’re done taking the hits, done tying your own rope. Do I make myself clear?”

Tine nodded, shutting his mouth tightly.

“Good.” Wat’s smile returned and Tine breathed again. “Now, the guys are all on their way over here because they made me promise to call them the minute you woke up.”

“Are they all okay?”

“Oh totally.” He spoke nonchalantly. “Barely a scratch on them, honestly. That thick skin finally served them well, it seems.” Shrugging, he continued, “Can’t say as much for the other guys, though. Ohm and Phuak kicked the living shit out of them.”

Tine felt a small smile spread across his lips.

Wat hesitated before speaking again. “I also called the cops…” Tine looked up at him and Wat held up his hands defensively. “Apparently, legally we have to. They need to talk to you about what happened for the trial. You are the star witness, of course.”

Trial. People like Yeo got trials. He almost laughed. “Great legal system we have, huh.” Tine said bitterly.

Knowing what he was thinking, Wat clasped Tine’s hand. Their eyes met and Tine felt a burning in his chest. Being knocked around and having his skull rattled hadn’t changed his feelings about Wat one bit. Thank god. “I’ll be by your side the whole time, okay?” Not trusting his voice, Tine nodded quietly. “Just a little more and this will be over for good.” He gave Tine’s hand a squeeze and Tine felt his heart tighten. He knew. Now he knew. When they were alone, really alone...Tine had something he needed to say. He wouldn’t miss his chance this time.

#2gether #2gether the series #tine x sarawat #sarawattine #wattine #sarawat #tine #brightwin #bright vachiwarit #win metawin #thai bl #fanfic #my fanfic #2gether fanfic #2gether au

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tae-cup · 4 years ago

Text

.hamartia. ‘Part 2,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 2.2k Words

A/N: Okay I need to make up my mind if this is yoongi x reader x taehyung x jimin or just taehyung and yoongi. Please help me- also I haven’t read this over so...I’m sorry if some sentences like don’t make sense

I’ve had Heather by Conan Gray stuck in my head all day. Anyway...I’m not sure if I like this chapter, but it’ll do haha

Other:

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Next

self·ish/ˈselfiSH/

adjective

(of a person, action, or motive) lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure.

You took a deep breath in.

“Okay, Y/N, you’re going to try Jimin’s approach, just this once.” You muttered to yourself. You searched around your mind, begging that innocent girl from a year ago to come out. You found her hiding in the closet, door shut, and light off. Her eyes were dark, but her body still radiated a pure glow. She looked up hopefully at you.

“I always knew you’d come back!” She squealed.

“right...” You spoke to yourself. Then you scolded yourself, promising you’ll lock her away for good once this is over. For the last time, you handed her the reigns.

Your hand opened the door quietly. You still had yet to apologize to Jimin, but you decided to get to that later. Of course, when you looked up at Taehyung, he was already awake. Did this man ever sleep? It was still rather early in the morning; around 4 A.M.

“Hello!” You chirped. You sat down, trying to make conversation. “Are you hurt? Do you ache?” You asked, taking on the caring tactic in full force. You had tugged along a first aid kit to really help solidify trust.

He didn’t answer, of course. But instead of getting annoyed, you simply smiled warmly at him.

“It’s okay! Take you’re time. I understand this is all pretty crazy.” You continued, hoping he would see you trying to be genuine. However, trying will never be the same as actually doing it. The dark haired male looked...confused, to say the least. His head tilted to the side, observing you, picking apart your words and trying to understand where this sudden kindness was coming from. There were a million red flags, but you didn’t seem to want to harm him...yet.

“I see there’s a pretty bad bruised.” You pointed towards his cheek.

He didn’t respond, then going on to drink in your outfit. With that, he let his lips tug up into a smile. That outfit gave him hope, it made him start believing you weren’t there to hurt him after all. After a moment of thinking, he nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” His voice was deep and smooth, almost melodic. It soothed you to listen to. “Your friend decided to give me a nice wake up.”

“Ah, I’ll tell him to stop that. I apologize for yesterday. I had been informed of your arrival so suddenly. I was,” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I was nervous, a little frazzled.” You sat very innocently, unlike yesterday. He felt he could trust you as you were right now, but it was still terrifying to know that girl yesterday still existed within you.

“I also think...I think the rope is too tight.” He mused, seeing how far he could push it. This didn’t faze you. You simply nodded, stood, and, almost hesitantly oddly enough, went to loosen his ropes. After you had sufficiently loosened the bindings, he grasped your wrist tightly.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked.

“I had a moment of clarity, yesterday.” You explained lamely.

“Hmph.”

“Why do you trust me?” You cocked an eyebrow up, your face somehow shifting to allude to the monster below. It was to your surprise when he chuckled.

“Your outfit.” He said slowly. If there was anything he learned in his short time being in this room, it was that black was for blood. Leather meant blood and gray meant bruises. “Your outfit is white.” He breathed. His words were light against your neck where you had crouched to loosen his ropes. How did he know about your outfit coordination? You assumed he was very observant.

You stared at him this time. He was almost devastatingly handsome. Dark eyes and pitch black hair. It made your heart flutter. You quickly put your beating heart into check. Monsters don’t have hearts. You stood, tearing your wrist away from his grasp.

“Well, I’ll try to make you comfortable.” You said quickly. You wanted to leave the room as soon as possible. Something about being near him made you feel ill.

“If you really wanted me to feel comfortable, you’d let me out.”

“You know I can’t do that.” You whispered more to yourself than anything else. You knew he heard it when he let out a little sigh, tossing his head to the side to move his bangs.

You left in a hurry, feeling him stare at your back.

Yoongi didn’t seem pleased.

“Please, Y/L/N, tell me why you let Jimin talk you into this idea.” He sighed. He looked exhausted, but he always did. You found yourself wondering if he had eaten and slept well. You shooed those thoughts away, not wanting them to distract you.

“Oh drop the formalities, Yoongi.” You sneered. Yoongi didn’t respond, but his eyes did narrow at yours. You didn’t feel intimidated. You knew that look, you’d seen it a million times.

After a brief pause, you continued, “I felt...I felt bad for something I said to him earlier. I thought I could give it a try, but it’s harder to build trust than I thought.” You trailed off, thinking to yourself: It’s so much easier to just break it.

He nodded slowly, listening to your explanation. The pale man sat in his leather chair. He was a laid back sort of man. One leg was crossed over the other as he leaned back lazily. A drink of whiskey was in his hand. He swirled the brown liquid around in the glass before setting it down. Now he leaned forward, seeming to ponder the idea.

“I think it might work, actually.” He wasn’t entirely sure, but he liked watching you squirm.

“Really?”

“Is there something wrong with trying a new tactic? Your job is to get information, I never said how.”

This was the sort of argument often used in the other direction; the argument that allowed you to do whatever twisted thing came to mind.

“But, Yoongi,” You pleaded. “I’m not cut out for this. I was just not made to love.” You looked down at your twiddling thumbs, feeling yourself turn back into that little girl from a year ago. You hated her. You should have just put her back in that closet, but here she was, popping out to say hello again. “You should know that better than anyone else, Yoongi.” Your voice was soft, but it held a certain steel to it.

He softened instantly. That voice was all too familiar; that tone.

“Y/N.” He cleared his throat before looking you deep in the eyes. “Every human being is made to love.” He turned around, facing the windows at the end of the office. “Sometimes, you just don’t know how to.” His mind was slowly getting lost in grief. He was grieving you, us, together. “Dismissed.” He couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy at the thought of you being close to another man other than Jimin. He had to let it go though, you guys were over and you have been for a few months. Besides, you never showed any signs of liking him still so he had to let go of you a little.

You didn’t even bother trying to argue. You could sense he had become distracted, lost in thought. You were glad for the dismissal as you could feel yourself getting lost as well.

“Oh god, please, no.” The young girl shook like a leaf. She looked to only be a year or so younger than you. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

The sound of a gun cocking shut her up. Hesitation flickered through you. You thought of your own family, now dead, and your own morality. Ever since coming to the mafia, you had refused to hurt anyone. Now you were being forced to. It was your humanity, your sanity, V.S. a new found family known as the mafia.

In contrast to her sister, the girl who was actually in danger, Hwayeong, stood absolutely still. You didn’t plan on humiliating her. You just wanted the job done and over with. She was directly involved in the murder of Yoongi’s father. It seemed insane, but she did have nerves of steel, despite her angelic face. You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

“I know you’re scared.” Hwayeong had a soothing voice, like a calm lake that washes over you. “And I know you were forced into this life, but you can change.” She didn’t sound fearful, though you knew she must be. “I’d welcome you with open arms.” She didn’t sound concerned or even pitying, she just sounded genuine. The dark haired girl sounded understanding and compassionate.

“I have to do this job.” You said quietly, gun still pointed at her, but now shaking. Hwayeong seemed to understand because she nodded her head, stepping forward. She grabbed the gun’s end and moved your arm so it pointed at her forehead. Her eyes stared into yours, pools of obsidian.

“Then do it. I have nothing left to bargain and I’m not going to deny the killing of that cruel man.” She held her head high. She seemed a proud woman. “But for the love of god, stop shaking, I want the shot to be clean and the death soon and blessed.”

You couldn’t help but gape at her request. She wrapped her slender fingers around yours on the handle.

“Shoot me.” She didn’t break eye contact, and you didn’t either. “Shoot me and we’ll all call it a suicide. I know how it feels to be in your position.” That raised a million questions. Was this the right choice?

“I-” The bang of the gun shocked you. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps as you stared at the body before you. You had held the gun. She had pulled the trigger. While her family screamed and sobbed, tied up and terrified, you ran outside and heaved the contents of lunch onto the lawn out front. You brought your sleeve up and wiped away the food around your mouth. Then you went back inside.

The house felt so small now. It was almost suffocating as you untied the family members. They stood in silence. You picked up the gun and slowly rose. You looked each member in their eyes, barely acknowledging their hollowness.

“This was a suicide.” You nodded at each of them. They nodded slowly back. “If I hear otherwise, you’re all dead.” And that was the last straw. The last humanity left in you. Those obsidian black eyes still burned into you.

Unlike last night, you jerked awake with this one, your heart racing. Why now? Why were you reliving these painful memories now? For the past few months it’s been so easy to just push and push the memories deep down. You had locked them in your basement. So how had they flooded back up so suddenly. They were suffocating you.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You reached out for someone to hug, someone to hold, only to find no one. Instead, you curled up, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible. You weakly hit your head with a fist as if to release these memories. You let your mind to turn to something else. The reality of the dream slowly slipped away. Her eyes left your mind temporarily; it was something you had sworn you’d never forget.

Fuck. You still needed to apologize to Jimin. He would probably be upset to know that you didn’t even notice that he wasn’t there all day. But the point was that you thought of him now. Only now did you realize how much you missed his company.

He would have known what to say to Taehyung to get him to talk more. Jimin, yes, helped you get information, but he was also a silver tongue. He could talk his way into and out of most things. That’s how he was “hired” for this mafia. He actually had been kidnapped, much like Taehyung. But, he managed to talk the, much more naive at the time, interrogator to move him upstairs. Then he talked them into letting him borrow a car. By the time he could escape, he knew too much and he knew the other members too well. He didn’t want to leave them.

You suddenly felt very sympathetic for him. Maybe it was because the old you had the reigns. So now here you were, standing outside his room, lost in thought. You didn’t even knock when he opened the door.

“I suspected you would come.” He scoffed, trying to look indifferent. You didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence as you engulfed him in a hug.

“I’m sorry, about everything.”

He carefully hugged you back, hands going to your neck to pull you in closer. “I know.” He whispered.

ahhhhhh that’s it for part 2, I’ll make part 3 soon! Let me know what you

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#bts #yoongi #taehyung #bts mafia #taehyung mafia #yoongi mafia #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #fluff #angst #hamartia

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shamelesslypoetic · 5 years ago

Text

The Sugar Mentality

Summary: Virgil doesn’t like sweets. Patton will simply not stand for it. Shenanigans ensue as Roman and Logan make bedroom eyes at each other in the background.

Wordcount: 3.5k

Pairings: Moxiety, background Logince

Warnings: A light make out at the end (but don’t take my word for what ‘light’ means) and cavity inducing fluff.

Read on ao3

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

Mm. Bliss.

Laying on the sun-warmed couch feeling all dreamy and smiley and happy, Patton settled fully beside his very own personal cuddle partner. Except Virgil was much more than that; Virgil was his boyfriend. Through relentless waves of emotions, countless brief glances and a thousand smiles exchanged across the rooms, it was finally true.

Patton marveled at the word ‘boyfriend’, letting it roll pleasantly around in his head. He was enjoying a cup of hot chocolate laden with marshmallows, reveling in Virgil’s warmth, taking in the fruity shampoo he used to wake himself up in the mornings, and another smoky smell Patton couldn’t quite place. He took a sip of his drink as Virgil went on with a ramble about My Chemical Romance’s music that Patton had long since lost track of, absorbed by Virgil’s eyes, his bangs, his fingers, his everything. Just, him, in all his glory.

Virgil, without missing a bit, twirled an imaginary mustache and Patton licked the cream away from his own upper lip.

To mask that he hadn’t been paying undivided attention to his shadowy but angelic songbird, Patton pressed the rim of his mug to Virgil’s mouth, offering him some of the chocolatey goodness.

“No thanks,” Virgil’s nose scrunched up—more often than not an adorable expression that Patton held as dear as any of Virgil’s faces. But this time he leaned his head back slightly too. “I don’t like marshmallows.”

A blanket of silence draped across them as Patton’s heart sank to his stomach in shock.

Virgil, ever fine-tuned to the signs of distress, asked, “Pat? Are you—?”

“But, but how can you not like marshmallows?”

Patton gave his boyfriend a doe-eyed, incredulous stare as he propped himself up on his elbows, practically sprawled across the anxious side’s lank form. They were flush from chest to knee.

Virgil’s face relaxed into a fond smile, moving the hair out of Patton’s face with just three of his fingers, feather light as he brushed the stray strands back from the slope of Patton’s freckled forehead. Tentative, despite the fact they’d just been cuddling on the couch with cat videos on Virgil’s phone. Patton wondered how Virgil could be so open, full of affection, and adoration in certain situations, yet so hesitant and closed off in others.

A clear example of the anxious side’s shyness presented itself in the way Virgil barely let himself touch Patton’s skin as he spoke, “I don’t know, Pat, I just never found them particularly tasty.” His eyes averted away as he fiddled with his fingers. Patton took his hand and gently traced his fingertips along Virgil’s knuckles, urging him to breathe out the tension. “They’re too sweet, sugary enough to turn bitter. And their texture’s kinda all wrong.”

“Does that mean you’ve never tried them?”

“No, I have!” Virgil chuckled. “I just wasn’t keen.”

“Wh-What about other sweets?” Patton tried desperately, grabbing Virgil’s hand with a pleading look. “Chocolate! Cotton candy! Cookies!”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He didn’t sound very sorry, and the glint in his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together would not distract Patton from his question. “I can only handle so much sugar in my life with you here. You’re an overwhelming sweetness I’m far more willing to bear though.”

The little sparks fizzling in Patton’s stomach as Virgil leaned in for a kiss certainly distracted him. Their noses brushed first and then Virgil’s teasing smile dropped. He let out a short breath that warmed Patton from his lips to his shoulders and spread down his back in twinkling tingles. The contact was slow and sweet, Virgil’s lips like melted chocolate sliding against Patton’s mouth.

Virgil shifted slightly, lacing his fingers with Patton’s and bringing his other hand to cup the side of his face. A slab of vanilla sunlight shined across Patton’s eyes and he opened them through a haze of delight to meet the warm caramel brown of Virgil’s. Then and there, he decided Virgil would grow to like sweets at any cost. Patton would make cakes and cookies and doughnuts and bring out all of his best cookbooks. Immediately.

Virgil let out a deep throaty noise, not unlike a purr, followed by a low whine as Patton drew back.

After he found a way off this couch then. Out of Virgil’s arms, out of his mind that screamed it didn’t want to have to move its body, out of this gumdrop sweet adoration.

Giving tender touches to show all his clumsy words couldn’t do justice, Patton completely fell into strong, grounded eyes and Virgil’s kisses and Virgil’s voice and Virgil, Virgil, Virgil.

A few hours later, once Virgil had had his fill of snuggles (for the time being), found Patton in the sunlit kitchen wearing his favorite polka patterned apron. His eyes roved over the counter with an indecisive frown. The flour, eggs, butter and sugar rudely neglected to transform into delicious cookies that would fill the mindscape with a warm aroma sure to lure Virgil out of his room. Patton forgave them, shifting his gaze to his cookbook and skimming the words.

“Patton,” Logan’s voice jolted the moral side awake, hands safely clasped around the heavy book to keep it from falling. “Would you be so kind as to remind me why Roman and I are here?”

What he meant to say was, Patton belatedly realized: My room’s door was locked and we were making out, how dare you interrupt us for such silly displays!

“To help me bake these cookies, of course!” Patton explained as he took the book from Logan. The moral side’s arms stooped under the weight, wiggling like overcooked noodles as he hefted it onto the counter with a puff of flour. “Hey, Lo, do you think milk chocolate would be better for this recipe?”

“You’ve never asked before, Padre,” said a still flushed Roman. His mouth had a ‘just punched’ look like he’d unevenly smeared lipstick across his face and since Roman’s make up applying skills were top notch, Patton couldn’t help but be a teeny tiny bit embarrassed as their gazes met. “What gives?”

“These have to be perfect,” Patton explained, hot to the tips of his ears. “They’re for Virgil!”

Roman’s tune changed into a passionate flurry immediately, his eyes lighting up. “Ah, I see, an endeavor of the heart!”

“I thought,” Logan interrupted, tone reserved. God, he could be scary sometimes, “you said on May 24th, seven weeks, four hours and thirty two minutes ago that any food will automatically be good if done with love and care.” There was an expectant pause. “And a dash of sugar,” Logan relented.

Patton turned to Roman for assistance, who’s lidded eyes took a moment before opening long enough to scold Logan instead of continuing to admire the logical side. “My love! These aren’t just any old cookies! Our Padre has asked for assistance in his quest to woo Surly Temple! We must deliver!”

“Well, if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s assistance,” said Logan.

“A little vague, my dearest nerd.”

“Feel free to take the words out of my mouth and twist them on your tongue any time, my halfwit.”

Patton cleared his throat. Logan staggered back as gracefully as one could, having unknowingly taken a few steps towards Roman. He blushed as he adjusted his neck tie.

Roman grinned proudly before sashaying towards Patton, hands eagerly clasping together. “Let the baking commence!”

A disaster, Logan called it; a marvelous attempt at baking done in the fashion only a true prince could achieve, Roman retorted. However much Patton wanted to encourage Roman though, the first batch of cookies came out lumps of coal that Roman slathered with icing and cream to mask the...overwhelmingly wonderful taste.

“Perhaps it was a bad idea letting Roman be in charge of taking the tray out.”

Patton went about doing chores and Logan needed to answer Thomas’ call. Who else could Patton have asked?

Fixing his gaze on Roman, Logan continued, “Especially since he doesn’t have much finesse when handling heat.”

Patton couldn’t help but notice the hint at an inside joke even as Logan’s wryness only invited a ghost of a smile to his features.

“I do, thank you very much!” Roman managed to say through his offended princey noises. Which were louder than usual…for some reason? “I only burned them because I’m hot as heck.”

Logan shook his head. Patton’s next words withered on his lips as Virgil came rushing down the stairs. “Guys! I smelled smoke! What’s happening?”

Catching sight of the tray, he stopped short and stared. His shoulders dropped from their tense line, fists eased open as his face became lax, then confused.

No, Logan had been right. It was a very bad idea leaving it up to Roman.

“Finding Emo! Huzzah!” Roman said. Why did he look so happy? “These fiends have put down my stupendous work. Would you mind taking a bite and disproving their drivel?”

Virgil gave Roman an unimpressed look. Thank goodness.

“Sure, whatever.”

Wait, what was that? Why was Virgil reaching for the white-painted black bricks?

Patton tried to say something as Virgil popped a ‘cookie’ into his mouth but found he couldn’t. He waited for Virgil to spit it out, to grimace, to scrunch his nose up, or to do anything. Instead, Virgil inhaled sharply, swallowing.

His eyes didn’t waver as he brushed off crumbs from his lips.

“Mm,” Virgil hummed. “These are actually really good, Princey. You makin’ more?”

For a moment, they all thought his usual sarcasm took over in such crucially called-for situations, but then he reached for another one and they all looked on in horror. Even Roman.

Virgil’s chewing sent a crunch-crunch like gravel rumbling through the kitchen. His eyes slid between their faces as he swallowed. “What?”

Instead of luring Virgil out with the aroma of cookies as planned, Patton had to go get the anxious side and resist the invitation for cuddles Virgil made. Red faced and mildly tired from kneading the dough, he longed for the embrace more than ever, but as his situation deemed it necessary, he ushered Virgil down the stairs, placing him in front of the dining table. A fresh batch full of chocolate chips with golden honey glaze waited for him.

“Oh,” Virgil breathed, eyeing the tray uncertainly. “These look really nice. Just kinda...too sugary?”

Roman snorted, reaching for one after the long wait where Patton had to repeatedly swat his hands away from the raw dough. “Just try it, Gerard Gay.”

Under their expectant gazes, Virgil ambled towards the sweets, almost sheepish as he took a bite. He winced, though it was evident he’d tried not to.

“These are…lovely, Pat,” Virgil said, smiling a smile absent from his eyes. “But I think the chocolate is a bit much so I’ll pass, thanks.”

Patton slumped, a tiny niggle of disappointment zinging through him. He quickly shoved it down. He wouldn’t give up. He hadn’t even started yet. No tree falls from the first blow, after all. Even if Morality didn’t favour cutting down trees in the first place.

Logan looked up from his book, wide-eyed as Roman spluttered, “But, how can you not like chocolate?”

From then on it was a series of trials and errors, ending mostly in the same way the first event had.

The following endeavour was Project Cotton Candy. Patton wanted to give Virgil the full carnival experience complete with the delicate spun sugar melting on your tongue as soon as it entered your mouth. He had Roman arrange a date in the mindscape in exchange for two coconut cream pies.

And by the sweet pasta, he’d delivered.

The creative side perfected the weather into a cloudy, airy atmosphere that sent a soft breeze into Virgil’s hair. As Patton took him from one ride to another, the Ferris wheel lights reflected rainbows in Virgil’s eyes and Patton found neither of them could stop smiling. Until.

“Pat, this date to the mind carnival is amazing, really,” Virgil said, squeezing Patton’s unoccupied hand. “I couldn’t be having more fun.” He glanced down at the cone of cotton candy in Patton’s other hand. “But, I don’t want the cotton candy. Can we go on the dark train again?”

The next morning, Patton managed to rouse himself out of bed and be rid of yesterday’s roller coaster nausea before Virgil could wake up. A cake with chocolate icing, blueberries and all sorts of decorations stood proudly in the kitchen not two hours later with Roman’s swirly ‘Happy Birthday, Virgil!’ written in icing on the top. In stunning script, Roman repeatedly pointed out.

“Pat, my birthday’s in December.”

That was right. Just a tiny oversight on the creative and moral sides’ parts.

But at least Virgil took a slice and didn’t grimace like a lemon had been shoved down his throat.

“Pat, I’m sorry,” Virgil said to the weekend’s macaroons, eyes on them instead of Patton’s sugar-dusted face. “I’m allergic to coconuts.”

“Pat!” Virgil said on one morning’s breakfast table. “I don’t want the waffles, honestly!” He dumped his round, perfectly golden circles onto Roman’s plate. “Let Roman have them.”

For the most part, Patton didn’t mind. The food, never wasted, was happily gobbled up by anyone close enough. Patton loved making the sweets anyway but the question of how Virgil could stand for this sort of happiness to be left unshared still baffled him.

Patton sank into the couch, tummy hurting from all the waffles he’d eaten to compensate for the stupidly hollow feeling in his stomach. The toasted, buttery circles didn’t taste like they usually did, as if a plate of water had been dumped over the top and dried by the time Patton took a bite.

After a while, Virgil had caught on to his game. Patton had seen suspicions dance in that pretty head of his but only smiled over his food all the while. Patton was no quitter after all. He would keep persevering like Roman on his quests, like Logan nearing his deadlines, like someone trying to make his boyfriend happier.

Virgil wandered into the living room as if breaching past unregulated territory, voice scratchy and barely audible. “Pat? Are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not, kiddo!” It was, even in Patton’s opinion, unseemly that he called Virgil ‘kiddo’ when they’d made out for a lengthy period of time not a day before and he shook his head, going on, “I just thought—”

“Oh, thank Brendon Urie!” Virgil cut him off with a relieved sigh. “Every time you came up with another one I thought you were gonna give up on me altogether.”

“What?” Patton propped himself up, the words flicking him on the raw. “Virgil, sweetheart, of course not. I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.” A subtle difference in the lilt of Virgil’s voice, even as he lowered it on those magical three words, told Patton he meant it that way. His tone shifted into one of worry immediately after, fingers knotting with reckless abandon. “But you’ve been working so hard on ‘em I felt kinda a lot bad.”

“It’s nothing a few cuddles can’t fix,” Patton soothed, patting the space next to him on the couch.

“Look at you, so cute…” Virgil muttered, almost absently. “Now how can I say no to this?”

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SAY NO TO THIS!” Roman trilled across the living room, bustling overhead and riffing like a stupidly talented moron. “OH MY GOD HE LOOKS SO HELPLESS, AND HIS BODY’S SAYING HELL YES!”

“Shut up, Princey!” Virgil growled, staring daggers from where he stood.

Roman’s voice continued in the same tone he’d sang Hamilton in, fading slightly as he made his way to Logan’s room. “To not like sweets! Virgil, you must have forgotten the Earth’s oldest language! The one of skin on skin and wind in trees! Oh, how my heart mourns for your self-inflicted misery!”

Virgil’s jaw clenched and his brows bumped but the scowl softened. Or was that just Patton, unable to see Virgil for anything other than the one he loved and treasured, never feared?

“Shut up or I’m coming over there and pounding you into the ground!”

Roman cooed back, voice distant, “I appreciate the offer but I have a boyfriend.”

A decisive click as Logan’s door room opened and shut guided Virgil down onto the couch’s pillows with a grunt. His face was blushed a deep red, nose flaring slightly from that little argument, lips parted as his breaths came in a hitched in-out in-out.

“I’ll be right back,” Patton whispered as he pressed a quick kiss to Virgil’s forehead, finding something in Virgil’s high cheekbones and his violet-veiled eyes.

What Roman had said about skin was only vaguely related to the cogs working in Patton’s head, but he was pretty sure this was a brilliant idea. A very non-Patton idea, too. It led him to his stash of spare marshmallows and what remained of the Nutella jar in the pantry. With such ingredients in the mix, this could only be described as sweet.

After lightly garnishing a few marshmallows with some chocolate, Patton appeared in front of Virgil. “Close your eyes!”

Patton’s urgency forced Virgil into a sitting position, weary eyes wandering until they settled on his boyfriend’s hidden hands. “What do you have behind your back?”

“Viiirrge!” Patton whined, not giving himself a chance to start feeling ridiculous. “Close! Your! Eyes!”

Virgil huffed out a confused laugh, but obliged. “Fine, fine.”

“No peeking!” Patton sat back down on the couch. He had no idea what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me.” He draped a thigh across Virgil’s lap in a too casual to be natural move.

“Babe, is there a point to this or…?”

Patton’s face heated up even more, Logan would say he’d caught glandular fever. His voice broke with rising desperation. “Just do it, please!”

Patton set the chocolate covered marshmallow into his mouth and bent, closed his eyes, breathed in, breathed out and ignored his heart trying to break through his ribcage.

Virgil’s voice came out garbled, “P-Patton, what’re—!”

Too shakily to be gentle, Patton reeled forward, colliding with Virgil in a messy, wet meshing of lips. His rapid breathing steadied as Virgil’s hands found their way to his hips and gripped there. Virgil tensed for the first few moments, bony shoulder digging into Patton’s but he didn’t lean back and sure enough, relaxed, his heart a steady thump-thump reverberating in Patton’s chest.

Patton’s every cell scorched as he pushed his tongue into Virgil’s mouth, the taste of his mint toothpaste and the chocolate and marshmallow overwhelming. This wasn’t quite what he pictured and most of their previous kisses, as they’d decided to take things slow, were soft, hesitant. But this was different. Patton’s body had been locked in a trance ever since the idea lodged itself into his cobbled brain. Even after, the only anchors stopping him from floating in mid-air were Virgil’s lips, Virgil’s hands gliding across his back, Virgil’s hair in his hands like mounds of silk and shuddering breaths and half-giggles, half a delicious sound an entirely different sweetness from the one melting on both their tongues.

Patton didn’t know the days that had passed or the soreness in hours spent preparing sweets. He didn’t know the birds were twittering outside or that the microwave was beeping far off. He only knew the taste of caramel, milky white where the tips of his fingers roamed. He only knew the cold burn of mint in his lungs and faint traces of chocolate and marshmallow. There was only this, only his body being coaxed onto Virgil’s lap, only the back of his head supported by Virgil’s fingers. Their eyes opened slowly, lips unwilling to part as quivering smiles met in the internim. The two sides stared for a moment, caramel brown into blueberry blue, caught. Patton looked away first, hiding his face in the crook of Virgil’s neck and at long last tasting its curve like his own personal lollipop.

Virgil’s hand slipped under Patton’s shirt to his lower back, the touch itself feather light, the press of it heated, eager. “Maybe marshmallows aren’t so bad after all,” Virgil rasped, raising Patton’s face to his level. Patton grinned at him, all smiley and dreamy and happy again, drawing ever so slightly closer. “Can you—?”

Patton didn’t wait long enough to let the anxious side finish his sentence but when he grabbed another marshmallow off the plate Virgil didn’t hesitate to meet him.

“Yes,” Virgil’s lips said against him. “Yes, yes, yes…” Again and again, turning from a whisper to a rasp to something less a word then just one syllable holding for a second and then fading into the air.

Patton smiled, melting into a relaxed puddle of giggling joy. He’d gotten his wish. It was giddy, the thought. He couldn’t tell how long it had taken in this addled state of mind but as he leaned in again, it was all he could think of.

The kisses that followed attempted at a proper lock but, interrupted by gentle smiles and bubbling laughter from both sides, only ended in the occasional peck. Patton, through a thudding heart and shaking fingers, couldn’t remember ever being happier.

Victory is sweet.

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

A/N: Huge thank you to @ace-corvid for beta reading this, they're a life saver and their edits were very very much appreciated! Also thank you to my qpp and treasure @drown-in-lava-choke-on-rubies for her continued support. Love ya, my Ruby!

I hope the words are treating you all well. Stay safe! <3

Tag list (ask to be added/removed): @drown-in-lava-choke-on-rubies @ace-corvid @ymmm-someone @seouqi @shitpost-sides @theraymondgem

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #my writing #og post #moxiety #logince #moxiety fic #fluff #moxiety fluff #dried ink #long post

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adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

Three’s a crowd

| 7 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation…

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader,

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 8.6k

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tags: spanking, slight daddy kink, master kink, pet kink, degradation kink, humiliation, bdsm, heavy bondage, blowjob, male receiving, begging, hair pulling, toy kink, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, light whipping, scratching, doggy, double penetration, squirting, dom!jimin

Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

Your head was groggy and it felt like your skull was going to cave in at any moment, it took a second for you to even realize where you were. Where were you? You felt confusion wash over you as you glanced up from the dingey bed, this wasn’t the hotel...and that was definitely an arm around you. Your head snapped to its owner as your lips parted, that was Jungkook, you slept with Jungkook....again.

Licking your lips as the vague memories of the previous night came to mind, some were more clear then others as you groaned. You really slept with him despite knowing he was in a relationship, forced or not. God, what did that say about your morality?

You felt a cringe pull on your face as you scanned over his peaceful expression, how could he be okay with this? Was the better question. You got it, he obviously didn’t love her but still, she clearly held some sentiment or at least affection for him.

Pulling open your phone you groaned at the time, it was nearly ten in the morning, sitting up you rubbed your head before sighing, god this headache was killer. Your head throbbed and your back was immensely sore, your body satisfied but damn, at what cost? You kept asking the question in hope for some answer that didn’t seem to come. Glancing back at Jungkook, his nose scrunched up in disdain from you pulling out of his arms, still fast asleep.

For half a second you thought about smash and dashing, having already fulfilled the first part. But then you’d feel bad, not that you didn’t already but you’d feel even worse. Biting your lip you rubbed your head in contemplation, what were you supposed to do?

It’s not that you had intended on aiming for a relationship with him, because inevitably in your case: relationships never worked out. But finding out he was actually unavailable was...admittedly off putting, because what if you did end up liking him more then just as friend? Were you even friends? You had only met him a few days ago.

“What’s with the long face?” Fuck.

You glanced back at Jungkook’s groggy figure, yawning as he stretched out, the amused smirk on his lips as his eyes washed over you. Above all else, what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Oh hey sorry, I was just wondering if I’m qualified whore now, thanks’

You gave a shrug as you rubbed the back of your neck before stretching your arms out. Ignoring his question altogether as you yawned, “We should get back soon, my phone’s dead and knowing my mom she’s probably freaking out.” Your body ached in objection but you pushed yourself off the bed anyways. Not really sure if you wanted to be so close to Jungkook.

Given everything that had happened, surely he’d understand your reasoning. It was a lot to take in and now that you had finally caved and slept with him regardless on his relational status, you felt a bit sick. Maybe it was the hangover, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to hang around any longer.

Jungkook said nothing for a moment, his chin lifting slightly as he tilted his head, his expression unreadable but you could almost feel him trying to figure you out, quickly catching up on your shift in demeanor, though not understanding why, “Let me call my driver then, daylight is too exposing to walk back on foot.”

You had been pulling the shirt over head as you turned back to face him, flannel in hand as you nodded before pausing, would it be too obvious if you wanted to walk back by yourself? It probably would, and honestly it made you cringe a bit internally.

But maybe going out with him last night wasn’t such a good idea, you hadn’t brought him with the intentions of sleeping with him. You just wanted to get to know him more as a person. And you did, but it still remained cemented that you had slept with him anyways. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself, Jungkook had been very clear on not feeling guilty, and furthermore he wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty.

It wasn’t that you had regretted it, or well maybe you did? You weren’t sure anymore, what you did know was that you needed time to digest everything that had happened.

Pressing your lips together as you clasped the flannel, “For you…” you nodded in agreement with him as he curved a brow, making you shrug as you felt obligation creep up on you, “I think I’m just gonna go on foot, it’d be more discreet anyways than going back with you. I’m pretty well known for all nighters.” You had turned around again, grabbing your phone from the floor, it must’ve fell from your jeans, or did you throw it? You couldn’t remember.

“Okay…” Jungkook had pressed his lips together, his expression contorted as his eyes puzzled in confusion, but he wasn’t going to ask questions, “You sure? It’s a long walk back.”

Why did he have to be so fucking sincere? It almost struck a nerve at how considerate he was, you turned back as you nodded, trying to keep your face as mellow as possible, as if you weren’t dying to drop kick the door and bolt for your life, “Yeah it’s cool, on my feet nineteen hours a day, remember?”

You forced the smile on your lips, not feeling as natural as it should’ve been. But then again that was subjective given the situation, really it shouldn’t have felt natural and that thought did make you feel a bit better.

Jungkook didn’t look sold on your smile either apparently but covered both his confusion and suspicion as he nodded, the smirk coiling on his lips as he leaned back against his hands, the rays of sun seeping through the blinds really did make him look angelic, even with such a devilish smirk on his face, “Fair enough, see you around Y/n.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you exited the room, exhaling in relief as you paused outside of the door, closing your eyes before forcing your feet forward.

You weren’t sure why you felt so odd, you didn’t feel guilty, but you also didn’t feel right doing this with him. You had slipped out of the motel, the streets busy and the crowd thick as the sun blazed, your head was still groggy and the loud noise made it pound as you groaned. This was gonna be a long walk back.

It felt like the walk back would never end but eventually you did arrive, dragging your feet beneath you feeling dead to the world as you ignored all the stares you had gained in the lobby, well aware you stuck out more than ever. But now? Now you just didn’t really care, you had a killer headache and all you wanted was tylenol, some fish crackers and sleep.

That luxury didn’t come to you though as you opened the door to your room, “Oh god…” you had muttered it under your breath as you sighed, rubbing your forehead as your mother paced back and forth in your room, head instantly snapping towards you.

You had half way turned around as she snapped at you, “L/n Y/n, over here right now.”

You groaned as you turned back around, trudging into the room as you shut the door, your mother’s brows had knitted together in both anger and worry as you slumped down sitting on the edge of the bed as she paced back and forth, “Twelve hours and not a single word from you! I was worried to death! Y/n we are not in Seoul, you can’t just go run off and not come home until morning!”

And there it was, she kept on ranting as she paced back and forth. Your mother was- a little protective of you, and given your past you couldn’t necessarily blame her, but you were 21 now. Sure you weren’t that old, but you had been navigating the harsh world as soon as you could be employed as a teen.

You use to get into a lot of arguments with her about it, but eventually you gave up altogether, just letting her yell as much as she wanted, chastise you until she felt better, and then you’d go on your merry way.

You didn’t mean to make her worry, but you were going to do what you wanted regardless. You weren’t a kid anymore, you hadn’t been a kid for a long time now. You felt the surge of bitterness squeeze against you as you sighed leaning back against your hands.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” Your mother scolded, pointing an accusing finger at you as you nodded, granted your expression looked spacey and less than interested, “Y/n this needs to stop! I understand that you work nightshift at home, but we aren’t at home. You can’t just go out all night without telling me.”

There was a pause as if she was waiting for you to object. But honestly? When she got like this you would space out, waiting for her to finish because ultimately the conversation wasn’t going to anywhere. You were going to disagree, she’d say you were too young, you’d argue you were old enough, rinse repeat.

You weren’t interested in fighting about it anymore. She huffed as she crossed her arms, “Well? Where did you go?”

“Oh my god,” You sighed, having sworn you weren’t going to argue but her words made you groan anyways, standing up as you rubbed your head, “I went out with Jungkook last night, okay? He’s never been to an arcade before and I took him. Plain and simple, I’m not a kid mom christ.” Just seeing her expression made you sour further, her look all too familiar and you had swore, you truly did, that you wouldn’t fight with her, but you could already feel it brewing.

“Went out?” She repeated your words as if they were poisonous, “Jungkook is engaged you have no business going out with him Y/n.”

Ah yes, just what you needed to hear right now. Sighing you ran a hand through your hair as you nodded exasperatedly, “Yeah mom, I know. Keyword we went out, why do you just assume there was something more there? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not interested in marrying rich!” It was the truth and also a lie. The truth being you genuinely weren’t interested in marrying someone- hell even dating someone with the amount of wealth Jungkook had.

The lie came from the fact that you had literally lied through your teeth about going out with him, because you did in fact, sleep with him. Not like you’d ever admit that to your mom,

Your mom huffed, fumbling with her hands as she began to pace again, “Y/n I am not with Seung because he is rich! I’m with him because I love him! Even if you were just friendly with Jungkook that could still come off the wrong way to his fiancee!” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Oh nevermind, you wouldn’t understand, you’ve never been in love a day in your life. You’ll know what I’m talking about when you meet someone who changes your life Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows as you pressed your tongue against your cheek, she was really gonna pull that card? So what if you had never been in love! You couldn’t help that! “This trip means a lot to me Y/n, please be considerate before running off without saying anything. Understood?”

Sighing, you collapsed against the bed, letting your arm cover your face to keep your annoyed expression hidden, “Yeah.”

After hearing the door clicked shut you sighed, curling against the middle of the bed as you tiredly closed your eyes, your head still throbbing in immense pain. Why was it you always had to be considerate of her?

You were the one who was lied too, you didn’t want to have a stepdad or brother and honestly you didn’t care. Okay? You really didn’t, everyone could consider you officially unbothered. If it made your mother happy? Cool, but you didn’t want anything to do with this shit.

Maybe it was your pounding headache that made you so cynical, or the stress you were putting yourself under with Jungkook, and god forbid you even think about what you had done earlier that day with Jimin.

On the bright side, things couldn’t possibly get worse from here.

By the time you had woken up from your groggy state you had felt a little bit better, rubbing your eyes as you sighed, pulling yourself the covers as you briefly glanced at your phone.

Groaning you flopped back down, most of the day was spent with you sulking in bed, Jimin had tried coaxing you to come out but you had refused, saying you weren’t feeling well. And it wasn’t exactly a lie, you were really ready for this trip to be over.

Jungkook had also sent a text your way, not explicitly saying he wanted to fuck, but that’s what it had alluded too, apparently he had an hour break coming up and was hoping to spend it you. Well that was to fucking bad because it would be a frozen day in hell before you got out of this bed.

You had blew him off, giving him also a lame excuse for not wanting to see him, your phone had went off five minutes ago but you weren’t mentally prepared to look at his reply. It wasn’t until roughly around two hours later that you had got up.

Aimlessly walking down the hallway with phone in hand as you explored around the hotel. Looking through various floors and ignoring everyone who store at you, looking close to probably homeless in their opinion but you didn’t care.

Eventually you had even found yourself in the same store this mess had all started, looking at all the gowns you wanted, letting your hands run against the soft materials in hopes of maybe grounding your mind that was far away. Unfortunately it didn’t work as you stumbled back from accidentally running into someone. She blinked surprised before bowing instantly apologizing, you had quickly recognized her though, Irene. The seamstress who had been taking Jungkook’s measurements a few days ago.

“Oh it’s fine! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You had replied casually making Irene glance up from her bow, realizing she knew you as she gave a sheepish smile. Maybe a little too use to dealing with the snobbish upperclass for her own good.

“Y/n! It’s good to see you again, how have you been?” She tilted her head, curiously, but her words made you furrow your brows. Had you told her your name before? You remembered how informal she was with Jungkook and briefly you wondered if they had been an item or, friends with benefits? She seemed to know him well, well enough to talk the way she did.

But her words made it sound like she knew something was up, which made you tense slightly as you shrugged, giving a sheepish smile, “Oh...I’m okay, just a little overwhelmed with all of this,” you waved your hand in gesture of the hotel making her laugh with a nod.

Irene had folded the fabric in her hands as she nodded, as if understanding what you meant as she replied, “Yeah I can understand that, it’s a lot to take in if you didn’t grow up around it. Has Jungkook talked too you at all…? He’s been a bit, spacey lately.” She hurried her last sentence in explanation as if realizing her question was weird.

“Oh well…” You glanced away, and maybe that was enough of an answer for her, but you had shrugged again, thinking back over the last few days before your lips quivered into a frown, sighing as you glanced back at Irene, “I mean we’ve seen each other a few times...Are you…”You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to pry but also extremely curious, “Are you acquainted with Jungkook?”

You weren’t really sure what to allude by that word because you didn’t really know where they stood, he didn’t act the way he did with you, like he did with her. It was still possible he had an affair but, you couldn’t say for certain and most of all you didn’t want to assume without any actual evidence.

Not like there was a problem if he had but...Her words were odd. Irene’s eyes dilated slightly as she pressed her lips together, gaze flickering around the room before she sighed altogether giving you an apologetic look, “We are...Look I can’t talk about it, it’s really something for him to tell you, if at all. But yeah, we’ve known each other for a long time.”

She nodded, fiddling with the fabric, suddenly looking nervous as she fumbled, “Ah anyways, I better get back to work. I’ll see you around.”

Irene had quickly excused herself with another bow before hurriedly walking away leaving you more confused than before. Why was she so anxious? It felt like you had left the store with more questions than answers, but it’s not like you had went with the intention of that regardless.

Sighing you eventually got a brisk text from your mom, demanding you sit in for dinner. You had left her on read as you went to get prepared. You had got about three more texts in the process before you had showed up for dinner, looking a little more decent as you saw the visible relief on her face, shooting you an unappreciated look as you sat down.

Both men had greeted you as pair usual and given your observant nature Seung hadn’t suspected anything, Jimin however had been persistent in trying to get you to talk, not like that was anything new. That was until you felt his hand press against your knee from beneath the table.

Swallowing harshly as you shot him a look, the smirk pulled on his lips as he leaned in, “You’ve been a shut in, all day. What’s up.”

Closing your eyes you sighed, grabbing his hand as you wrangled it off your knee, “Nothing, I just haven’t been feeling up to doing anything today.” His hand latched onto the inside of your thigh giving it a small squeeze making you shift in your seat.

Watching your mom laugh with Seung as they continued their lively conversation, Jimin leaned in closer, as if waiting for them to see your interaction, “You look stressed, not trying to stroke my own ego. But I’d like to think I could take your mind off whatever it is. Tempting right?” He gave a cocky smile as his fingers stroked against the skin of your thigh.

Your mind was screaming at you to not be a dumb bitch, but your body was saying you were dumb anyways, might as well go for the 0.2 IQ anyways. It was a bad idea, but if there was one thing in your life that you could not fail at, it was making terrible decisions, “I’m listening.” You glanced towards the table as you murmured, unable to watch the victorious look on Jimin’s face as his hand trail up to your burning core.

Fuck he was gonna do this now? “Well imagine this,” Jimin licked his lips, leaning in closer as his voice softened like velvet, purring out, “I have handcuffs in my room with your name on it. Mmm, all tied up against my bed post, if you’re too loud I’ll have to gag you though, your choice of a ballgag or my hand.”

It was getting difficult to keep your face from blushing and your legs not squeezing together as his hand gave a feathery stroke against your wet core, “Oh look, you’re already wet.” Jimin laughed softly against your ear, suddenly leaning away as you tried to muffle a small whine.

Jimin had cleared his throat gaining both parents attention as he gave an innocent smile, “Y/n just told me she isn’t feeling very well. If you don’t mind I’m going to escort her back to her room.”

Both Seung and your mother were none the wiser as they dismissed you both, and as soon as you were out of sight his hand wrapped around your waist, dragging you close to his body. Standing in the elevator as you bounced against the heels of your feet, feeling antsy at your decision. God this was a bad idea, a really bad idea.

But at the moment you didn’t want to think anymore, you had thought all day and honestly all you wanted was your body to ache in pain and be fucked until you physically couldn’t think anymore. When the elevator opened to the next floor though your face had instantly paled.

Oh jesus christ. This could not look good to his eyes, there’s no way it could.

“Oh Jungkook, where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day.” Jimin casually greeted, making you remember he had no idea what you both had been up too the last few days.

Jungkook had raised a brow his eyes only looking at you as he stepped into the elevator on the other side of you, tightening the loose black silk tie he wore as he nodded his head in greeting but you could tell by his gaze he was analyzing your every nuance you radiated.

His eyes burning into the hand that wrapped around your waist, “Busy day, was stuck in a meeting half of it,” You didn’t remember his voice being so deep, Jungkook had shifted slightly closer, his eyes on you again, “Are you feeling better?” his voice had softened a little at the question directed towards you.

Swallowing thickly you looked up towards his tall figure, feeling sheepish under both males gaze as you nodded, “Y-yeah um...I’m feeling okay, I think I need to just get some more sleep is all…” You would’ve used your hangover as the excuse but with Jimin present you knew that was a bad idea, one of the few you weren’t so keen on trying out.

But you could feel Jimin’s heavy gaze on you now, wondering how Jungkook knew about your excuse, or well your false illness. Oh god would you ever reach the final floor? Jungkook only gave a hum, glancing over your features before letting his fingers capture your chin, tilting it up so he could have a better look, “You do look a little pale, you haven’t skipped any meals have you?” Jungkook had tsked at the idea but you had to resist from curling inward at the sudden attention.

Why was he asking this? You couldn’t even answer though as you felt a tug on your waist, your body pressing back against Jimin’s as Jungkook’s gentle grip on your chin broke, “She’s fine.” Jimin replied curtly, your gaze shot straight to the door as you inhaled sharply. Dear jesus almighty give you strength.

You had dared to take a peep at Jungkook but you had almost regretted it, his face contorted into a harsh one, his eyes almost glaring at Jimin with a clenched jaw. Jimin had gave more of an icy look in return, his disinterest showing heavily as you shifted uncomfortably. The silence was thick enough to choke you for a moment, and briefly you thought it was until you heard the final bell of the door slid open. Thank god.

Jimin had tugged on you to lead you out of the elevator but a hand caught your wrist, “Y/n can we talk?” You glanced back at Jungkook, his eyes darting towards Jimin as his continued voice gritted, “Alone.”

Jimin had opened his mouth ready to deny Jungkook, and maybe that was for the best. You weren’t sure you wanted to talk to him, but those dark warm eyes were just so tempting. His voice always had that soft note that made you weak. You had spoken before Jimin could as you nodded, “Uh, yeah sure.” You glanced towards Jimin who’s gaze darkened broodly, welp you were in for punishment big time after this. He let go of you reluctantly, giving a silent nod as if saying he would be expecting you in his room later.

Saying nothing as he walked off, you and Jungkook both stood there quietly for a moment until the sight of Jimin had disappeared. Gaining some courage you finally glanced up at him, your expression hesitant as he sighed, “Can we go to my room? It’s too open out here.”

You gave him a weary look but said nothing as you followed beside him. Stepping into the room that had become shamefully familiar as the door behind you closed, sighing as you wrapped your arms around yourself. This trip was supposed to relax you, but the only thing it had done so far was make you more stressed than you’d ever been before, what were you even supposed to do?

“Look…” Jungkook sighed, trailing behind you as he slowly circled around, “I know I came off a bit...strong yesterday,” he finally stopped in front of you, the dimmed lights of the room making body more silhouetted as the rain gently pattered against the window wall, thunder softly rumbling as lighting filled the sky, briefly lighting his dim face, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal honestly. Any girl I’ve been with before hasn’t care…” Obviously he had been able to deduce throughout the day why you had suddenly pulled away.

“Jungkook,” You sighed, dropping your arms as you closed your eyes, hearing the hesitance in his voice as you continued, “What are you trying to say?” You had already explained to him it was a lot different in the regular world, cheating wasn’t okay, even under different circumstances. Trying to explain that again would’ve just been a waste of your breath.

Jungkook shifted slightly, stepping closer as he gave a hum, fingers restless against his sides as he answered, “What I’m trying to say is,” he paused for a moment as if trying to figure out his own thoughts, “I don’t want my engagement to ruin this- I do like you- W-well I mean, I think you’re really fun and…” Jungkook’s words began to rush a little and if you didn’t know any better had the lighting not been so dim his cheeks would’ve been a little red, “I don’t know about you but… I wanna see where this goes.”

It was your turn for your face to flush, oh god was this a confession? You felt like you were in highschool again as you parted your lips, closing them several times like a dumb gulping fish as you finally coughed a stutter, “Uh..! See where this goes like….?”

“Romantically.” Oh wow, fuck, fuck, fuck he said it. You didn’t think he’d actually say it, but Jungkook’s voice had grown more confident again as he stepped closer, “Not saying that it will, but...I don’t know, I’m just curious...aren’t you?” Oh hell no you had barely known this guy for three fucking days, you’d admit easily you got along well. And yes you were very compatible but there was a lot of problems for you to even try and consider a relationship with him.

Honestly, it almost seemed like too much work for you to even try, he came with a lot of baggage, not like you didn’t but- his was different, a whole world different. Furthermore you weren’t really looking for a relationship at the moment, work was too time consuming and regardless if a guy was high maintenance or not, or you just didn’t have the time to invest. But Jungkook’s voice had lowered a tone making it deep and velvety. Seduction lacing his every word as he softly spoke them.

He was the epitome of gracefulness, you though? Your face had to be bright red and you were almost sputtering too loud, your mind splintering at just the idea of commitment, were you even mature enough for that? “Uh...I mean...I guess? No offense but like...yeah we have sexual chemistry and all of that but…!” You jumped slightly as his hands that had gripped your waist, gentle but firm enough for you to not bolt, “But- but! Ah! I-I mean I don’t know if we’d make a good um! Couple y’know?”

You were suddenly backed against a wall, Jungkook’s lips, just as soft as you remembered pressing against your neck as he hummed, “You didn’t say you weren’t curious though,”

you almost choked on your own spit at his warm tongue dragging up your neck, his hands still placed firmly against your waist, “I’m not saying it’s going to go anywhere, but I wanna find out. I did tell you I was keeping my options open.” Jungkook was a fucking bold guy to add that light little teasing comment to his sentence, the playful smile on his lips grazing your skin as the little flutter of kisses met against the base of your neck. Wasn’t he being a little too casual about this?

Your eyes had already closed as you shifted against him weakly, “I-I guess…” You stumbled out, “I can’t exactly tell you not be interested in me…” you muttered weakly, “But..um..I haven’t really known you long enough to say the same.”

Jungkook had let his fingers trail against your waist, stroking against the fabric of your shirt as he hummed, “That’s fine, I never said you had to be,” he bit down against the base of your neck, making you breath out a tiny whimper, “But I don’t give up easily either,” You could feel the wicked smirk on his lips against your skin, “Have you slept with him?”

This time you did choke on your own spit as you coughed, feeling your face become even hotter as your face contorted into one of horror, was it really that obvious? You thought for sure that maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have figured out so quickly, “Uh what?”

“Jimin,” You could feel his grip on you tighten, his voice deepened into a more guttural one as he scoffed out, “Did you sleep with him. I haven’t forgotten about him taking you to the sauna, that wasn’t as innocent as it looked, was it? Hm?”

You could hear the jealousy spitting in his tone and you supposed, given his sudden interest in you it would make sense. Your body was already hot as it was, but thinking back to the sauna only made it worse as you murmured, “W-well you see..um not really?”

Jungkook’s fingers dug into your sides making you jump as you let out another breathy whimper, “Hope he fucking enjoyed seeing my marks on you,” Jungkook muttered, okay wow this guy was a lot more possessive then he looked, your body though only found it hotter and his deep voice was really doing something to you, “See babygirl? They were useful for something after all.” Fuck he was gonna start with the pet names now?

But with Jimin being the topic on demand your mind went back to his dark gaze, he was gonna kill you. Your body had stiffened at the thought as you shifted against him, “I...I need to go Jungkook... he’s waiting for me.”

His grip tightened for a second and you could feel the strain of his jaw, obviously not wanting to let you go now knowing where you’d be going and what was about to be done to you, “Tch let him.”

“Look,” Your voice firmed a little bit, making his grip on you loosen at the seriousness in your voice, sighing as you placed your hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly to get a good look at him, his eyes dark and glossed with a claiming lust, “I get it, you wanna see where this goes between us. But you don’t own me okay? I’m willing to…”

You glanced away, expression faltering slightly as you sighed, “See if I actually like you, but until then, you’re more than free to sleep with anyone you want. Same goes for me, and right now, if I don’t go back to Jimin it won’t be hard to connect the dots. Didn’t you say it’s better if he didn’t find out?”

Jungkook’s jaw only clenched, glancing away from you in annoyance as he sharply exhaled, but you could tell by his face he knew you were right, “Yes...Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he muttered under his breath, reluctantly letting you go as he stepped back, “But I expect you in my room first thing tomorrow morning.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as the tiny spark of mirth danced in your eyes, “Sure, if I can still walk.”

Humming as your lips pulled into a small smile, almost waltzing away from him as he huffed, muttering under his breath, “Oh I’ll give you something to limp over tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at his words, it was almost amusing to see the shift in his attitude. But there was a lot to think about now, Jungkook was a little too interested in you. And while you made it very clear the feeling wasn’t mutual, you had made the mistake of saying you were curious as well. Curious to see if you would develop something deeper with him, and that alone was enough for Jungkook to pursue.

For now though, walking down the empty hallway, you were about to go into the lion's den and just remembering Jimin’s expression let you know you were in for a very long night. Stopping in front of his door you took a breath, deciding maybe you should ask for some words of wisdom before entering

Okay that was useless but it was worth a shot, sighing you shoved your phone back in your pocket before gaining the courage to open the door into the dark room.

Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, legs spread and his jacket had been discarded, his tongue pressed into his cheek as his dark eyes landed on you, “Hope you’re ready for punishment slut, talking to other men was a bad way to start your night.”

His words had instantly shot between your legs as your lips quivered slightly, “Don’t just stand there, strip. I want you over my lap. Now.” Jimin demanded, his eyes dark as he leaned back against his hands. His face ran icy cold but your body was contrasting it hotly as you quickly fumbled with your clothes. Letting them drop from your body leaving you exposed in nothing but a bra and panties.

The night hadn’t even begun but your legs felt almost numb as you quickly walked over, Jimin let out an impatient huff, grabbing you and hauling you over his lap, “You’re such a naughty girl,” Jimin tsked out, his hand running over your ass making you shift under his hot touch, his voice giving a false sense of security you knew he was taunting you, daring you to try and relax, “Last time we were like this you were in my lap for punishment.”

The slap rang out and the skin of your ass stung harshly as you cried out a whimper, Jimin lifted his hand again spanking you harsher than the last, “Understand your punishment right? You know I really can’t fucking stand Jungkook some days.” Your ass was undoubtedly red but Jimin gave an even harsher blow making tears sting in your eyes, “Don’t act like an innocent baby either, I know you’ve noticed him eye fucking you anytime we’re all together.”

Your core was burning hot and arousal was beginning to shamefully seep through your panties at his rough manhandling but fuck- it was hot seeing him get like this.

“Imagine being spoken for and still fucking other girls,” Jimin practically sneered out, his spanking had stopped though as you heard something rattling, that’s when your body stiffened at the realized he was taking off his belt. Oh shit you weren’t gonna be able to stand after this...were you?

“But you’ve been a good girl haven’t you? You’re only filthy for me, aren’t you?” On any other occasion it would’ve taken a whole lot of self restraint to not laugh at the irony. But feeling the sharp sting of his leather belt suddenly slam down against your ass, the noise echoing through the room louder and the pain etching into your skin forced you to choked out a sob.

“Y-yes I’m daddy’s good girl!” You whimpered out, but Jimin ignored your pleas slamming the belt down against your ass again making you bury your face into the bed to muffle your sobs.

Jimin scoffed as he lets out a growl, “You don’t deserve to be with daddy tonight bitch. Apologize to your master for talking to other men, I’ll consider stopping.”

The leather stung into your skin again, the pain close to unbearable but your body was practically running a high of its own as you choked on your own words, “I-I’m sorry master. P-please let me make it up to you, please I’ll do anything master.”

Jimin’s lips coiled into a sadist smirk, his fingers trailing your sensitive bruising ass, your body trembling beneath his touched as he hummed, “Anything?”

“Y-yes…” you whimpered out, the tears still trickling down your face.

Your body tensed in anticipation as Jimin plucked you up by the hips, setting you on the ground as he stood up, “Very well, you can seek forgiveness, but I hope you're prepared for it to be at the expense of your throat.” Jimin had opened his nightstand, “Are you on pill.”

You swallowed thickly at the shiny silver cuffs in his hands as you nodded eagerly, you lower body in immense pain at your kneel sitting position, “Y-yes.”

“Good.” Jimin hummed his stride was slow in no particular hurry as he stopped behind you, “Because I’m filling you up all night long, you’ll be a good little cum dumpster and take it, won’t you?”

You felt the metal wrap around your wrists, the rapid clicking as he shut them. They weren’t tight enough to cut off circulation but tight enough that they would definitely chafe over time, “Yes master.” You answered obediently. Your body aching and burning for relief but you had a feeling you weren’t going to achieve that for a long time.

Jimin wheeled around until he stood in front of you, undoing his pants before letting his cock spring free, eyes lidded and dark as he commanded, “Open your mouth pet. I’m gonna fuck your throat until your a gagging crying mess. Only then will I forgive you.”

You had already obediently opened your mouth, giving it a stroke before pushing his tip into your throat, it was big making your mouth stretch as he gave a hum. Grabbing the back of your head before forcing your mouth to take all of him.

Your jaw ached and feeling his large cock down your throat made you gag immediately, your throat tightening around him making him moan lowly.

Jimin didn’t cease though as he firmly pulled at your hair making your head bob against his length. You body was desperate for what little air it could get and you were choking on him, making your eyes sting painfully but Jimin ignored your whimpers forcing you to bob on his cock harder.

Your panties were beyond soaked, constantly shifting and moving your sore bruised ass in hopes of trying to touch yourself but nothing was working. Your hands continually tried to move towards your aching core but the only thing it provided was a dull pain in your wrists.

“Keep choking pet, you’ll get relief when I say so.” Jimin growled, your head was beginning to ache at the feeling of his tight grasp yanking against your scalp. He forced your mouth all the way back to his base as he moaned again, forcing you to stay at his base as he listened to those sweet little gags and pleas from beneath him.

Tears were already blurring your vision as they trickled down your face, saliva was drooling from your lips from how much you were gagging on his cock but Jimin only ignored you, focusing on how your small throat squeezed against his cock. Jimin finally began to rock his hips slightly, making his cock stretch against your throat, a new round of wet noises filling the room as you choked again. Your body desperately seeking air only forcing you to gag further.

“Mmm fuck what a good pet,” Jimin praised out, his tight grip on your hair didn’t cease though, “Your little throat feels so good around my dick kitten. Keep gagging for your master.” It wasn’t hard to fulfill his request. Your throat was greedily trying to suck in what oxygen it could forcing you to continually choke and gag on him, your wrists continuously shaking forcing the once dull pain to sharpen.

Jimin let his hips roll away from yours, his cock sitting back against your tongue before suddenly flicking his hips back towards you, his thrusts coming unexpected as you gagged again. Your tears were non stop now but it was symphony to Jimin’s ears as he ruthlessly fucked into your mouth, your throat burned intensely and your eyes stung in match with your wrists but he didn’t stop until you felt his cum squirting down your throat.

His head was thrown back as he let out a moan. Panting as he took a moment to gather himself, letting his softening members slip from your mouth as he thumbed your tears, “You’re forgiven kitten. Get up, I have a treat for you.”

You weren’t honestly sure if you could stand, your wrists were dug into your cuffs and your lower body was near numb from the pain of your spanking. You nodded though, not even daring to attempt to speak after your throat being fucked raw. You didn’t want to know what your voice sounded like.

You struggled to get up, your lower body throbbing in protest and your legs weak but you managed to sit up on the bed, the key to your cuffs sitting on top of the nightstand but that wasn’t what Jimin had went over to get. Just the sight of the vibrator in his hand made your legs shake, it looked like one of those high tech expensive ones too.

Jimin licked his lips as he turned back to you, the smirk pulling back on his as he walked over, “You’ve been such a patient kitty haven’t you?” He rubbed the top of your head, your neck craning for the attention as he grabbed you by the hips shifting you further into the bed as he parted your legs, “Lay down while master treats you.”

Your legs were shaking and nothing had even been done to you as you laid down uncomfortably. Your wrists still cuffed behind you making your back awkwardly arch and your shoulders ache as the metal dug into your wrists again. There was a loud buzz sounding almost like an electric razor, your legs weakened at just the noise but the next thing you knew Jimin had opened the band of your panties placing the vibrator inside setting it against your clit.

Your voice tore out a loud moan, your throat sore and raspy but your body was sent into shock at the sudden thrum in your clit.

The vibrator pounding into you making your legs shake and your body twist and turn as the heat in your core rapidly built, “Cum for your master kitten.” Jimin purred out, his nails raking into your thighs, just enough to leave a small sting as your body contorted with a whimper. Tsking he let a hand reach inside your panties, turning the vibrator up.

The noise heightened and so did your moans, the vibration brutally burning into your clit as Jimin continued to scratch down your thighs delicately. One shift of your hips made the vibrator move, suddenly pounding into your sweet spot that triggered your orgasm. Snapping in white pain as a scream ripped from your throat, your hips bucking and your body withering as you whimpered continually at the vibrator that pounded away into your gorged bud.

Your legs were shaking and voice was scratchy but Jimin only licked his lips, placing his hands on your thighs to steady you as your voice got louder. Your body already sensitive making the pain wave over your bud, “Keep going kitten.” Jimin encouraged, his hand going back to the vibrator to turn it up even more making you cry in pain. He only shifted the vibrator slightly though. Letting it hit back against your sweet spot as your moans strung out cracked, your hips trying to buck again and your second orgasm was making you see stars but Jimin was still fiddling with the vibrator.

“Keep going kitten, you wanted a treat don’t go crying on me now.” Jimin mocked but your eyes already had a fresh batch of tears, the overstimulation burning in your body but Jimin had finally grabbed the vibrator only to rock it into your clit. You had let out another loud moan, twisted into a sob as your hips obediently bucked into the vibrator, your hips spazzing as he ran it over your sweet spot again. Your little abused bud forcing you into a third orgasm that had nearly made you black out.

The pleasure forcefully tremoring through making you whimper and moan repetitively as Jimin took the vibrator off of you. Clicking it off with that devilish smirk on his lips, “See? That wasn’t so bad was it kitten?”

“N-no master.” You whimpered out, your voice quiet and it hurt to just speak, even if it was a whisper. You closed your eyes as your breaths heaved, ready to let sleep over take you but you knew it was going to be a long time before you were granted that.

You felt a hand pop your thigh making your eyes snap open as you shifted, swallowing as you saw a plentiful of things laying a little way from you both, “Don’t forget you’re here to pleasure your master,” Jimin snapped lowly, “You don’t get to sleep until I say so.”

You whimpered as you felt him roll you over, the pain in your wrists lessening as Jimin lifted your hips up, “I’m sorry master.” You whimpered out as his hand stroked against your bruised ass. Your whimper heightened when you felt him spread your cheeks, feeling something cool slide against your hole. Lube, or maybe lotion? Jimin testingly pushed a finger in making your whimper, “Fuck your so tight, have you done anal before kitten?”

“O-once master. Long time ago.” You sharply inhaled, letting your head turn so the side of your face would press into the mattress. Jimin gave a hum as he pumped his finger slowly, stretching you before adding in a second your let out another whimper, squirming as he sped his pace a little.

Jimin took his time stretching you accordingly before pulling his fingers out, you could hear the sound of a cap opening before closing again. His hand was slick, coated in leftover lotion as he grabbed onto one side of your hip. The other guided his tip into you.

His tip pushed in as you gasped a whimper, shifting and moving beneath him as your hole stretched uncomfortably, “Mmm fuck you’re so tight kitten, feels so good around my cock.” Jimin purred out, pushing his cock deeper into your ass making you moan again as you whimpered.

You could take a massive dick in the front but from behind? You didn’t have a lot of experience anal before and you could feel it. Jimin had let you stretch around him before he began thrusting starting slow at first as his hand ran down your lower back, the other holding onto your hip.

“Mmm gonna let me pound into you kitten?” Jimin asked, you jolted at the feeling of something hitting against your back. Something like a tassel whip, it was light but enough to leave a small sting on your back making you give a scratchy moan.

“P-please master.” You whimpered, a strain in your neck was beginning to form from your head being turned and you were sure the cuffs would leave a dark rings around your wrists by now. But feeling Jimin’s large erection stretch your tight hole forced you into a dazed state as he whipped your back again with a little more force making you whimper.

“Good pet.” He hummed before letting his hips suddenly slam into yours, his balls slapping against your wet pussy making the room filled with lewd noises and your loud moans, “Mm fuck, so tight.” You felt the sting against your back again making you whimper as his cock pounded into you, your hole burning in a whole new way as he ruthlessly thrusted.

Letting his whip hit against your back continually as your body burned, his cock twitching inside you making him slow down, “You take my dick so good kitten, you’re gonna make me cum early. I have one last thing for us, will you be able to take it kitten?”

Jimin had paused inside you, you had to bite back an objection at his pause, but it was difficult with his large, pulsing dick buried deep in your ass.

“Y-yes master.” You whined making him laugh, you could feel him move slightly before straightening his posture. Your body jumped however at the new sensation. Silicon running up your wet pussy coating in your hot arousal.

Jimin pushed the tip of the dildo inside you making your body almost convulse.

Your body felt ready to burst as Jimin ignored your cries, pushing the dildo inside you further filling your pussy tightly. The walls of your entire lower body felt full enough to burst as Jimin began thrusting again.

You couldn’t even make a sound anymore as his hand began to thrust the dildo inside of you. It was difficult to even think of anything besides how much your body was taking inside of it, the dildo continually hit your g-spot though finally forcing a cracked moan from you. Your body was being visibly moved with every thrust from Jimin though, his cock pounding into your abused hole as he moaned.

“Squirt for master.” Jimin demanded his hand going faster on the dildo before angling it to drag against your hypersensitive clit. Dragging its large shaft over and over the bud again as you strangled a cry your body shaking violently at the rapid orgasm beginning to form.

He thrusted the dildo inside of you, hitting your g-spot one last time before you came. You could only see in black and the liquid came squirting out coating the dildo as it trickled to the bed below.

You were gasping for dear life as the tears began streaming down your face feeling Jimin’s thrust became rougher but more uneven as he continually dragged the dildo against your g-spot, forcing your body into spitting more liquid, just as violent as before as you choked another sober.

“Keep taking it pet,” Jimin growled out, his hand refusing to slow down from thrusting both himself and the dildo inside you, forcing you to ride your orgasm painfully long but you were a good girl.

Letting him keep overstimulating you as you cried, taking it like the champ you were. You had squirted one last time making surely the biggest mess in your life as Jimin came. His moans strung and cracked beautifully as he filled you up.

You both had breathed raggedly for a moment before he removed himself and the toy from you. Shuffling before you felt the bed dip again. Jimin had grabbed your hands unlocking the cuffs before letting your limp body drop against the bed, “Sleep kitten, you earned it.” His hand nuzzled into your hair, you didn’t have to be told twice.

Note: don’t mind me bathing in holy water over here, things are about to get verrryyy interesting soon 👀 also!! Thank you guys so much for the love and support!! It always makes me so excited to write plus your comments have me dying 😂🖤

Taglist: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat @mrsfandomz @cainami @nininek12

(Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#bts #bangtan #jungkook #jimin #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #bts smut #jungkook x reader x jimin #bts ceo au #jungkook x reader smut #jimin x reader smut #three’s a crowd

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ninja8tyu · 4 years ago

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i was and am still watching a conservative youtuber who i think is pretty neat

i’m not sure if that’d trigger my audience, but yeah, i actually do follow a lot of people from a lot of beliefs and backgrounds

john doyle’s his name, he’s a pretty good dude, check him out

and this post isn’t about politics, just about christianity and history

i’m following him on twitter, he says both on his videos and his social media how christianity is the foundation of ethics and morals, and how atheists don’t have a foundation for morality (which honestly i both agree and disagree)

and well, i was thinking that yes, christianity did have a lot of influence in history, and so it’s undeniable how much it has influenced modern morals

personally, i don’t believe in some god going to torture you forever because you fucked up, or that there is a god that’s supposedly omnipotent, omniscient, and benevolent, that’s final, no arguments about that

however, god was invented for a reason, but for what? why was his existence born and then spread with the bible thousands of years ago?

control definitely seems like one good reason, and personally i think so too, but i realized just how easy it is to twist anything into a bad thing

maybe the creation of god wasn’t a form of controlling the public to think that slavery was good, divorce was bad, blacks are lesser, yadda yadda yadda

who invented him? what was its initial purpose?

god has changed through the times, every single person has a different perception of god, what is the purpose of inventing god?

what is god?

no doubt it’s an idea, but assuming it has been corrupted and twisted by bad people in the past, then what was it originally?

obviously it must have something to do with good, morality, justice, and ethics, because i doubt even the people back then would’ve scrapped this part of god, since i feel that people are more easily controlled by thinking they’re justice than they’re evil

john states that without believing that bad acts will be punished, because they’re always seen by god, encourages morality, and those who don’t believe in him are unrestricted in committing crimes

and of course, i agree and disagree; agree that most people wouldn’t commit a crime if they knew they would be seen and punished for it, but disagree that religion needs to be a foundation for morality/i think morals and ethics can come from just being a good person, and you don’t need to ask someone else to tell you what’s right or wrong, omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent, or not

and so i thought and thought

and i realized how god works as a tool

i recall during my tulpa research that some religious people have created their own version of god in their minds

and here’s my conclusion:

god is supposed to be a thoughtform that helps you keep in check your emotions and the like, to keep one moral and to keep a second eye watching even if you’re alone, so you never do bad things, at least on impulse, or maybe even to encourage you to ask for forgiveness from others when you did something wrong

god is a tulpa who tries to help you make you the best person that you can be

or at least, that’s what i think the original concept is and why he was made

he’s a friend in your head trying to make sure you don’t do dumb shit

or maybe that’s the guardian angel phenomenon and god is the explanation for why that is

he’ll scold you for doing something bad, guilt you if you don’t make up for it, or maybe something else i don’t know

but yeah, basically god or a god is a thoughtform meant to help you be the best person, at least in terms of morality, that you can be

and as for why it changed from “good ol’ buddy in your mind” to “CRUSADING TIME, PURGE THE BLASTPHEMISTS” over the thousand years, well, that’s everyone’s fault for twisting him around like that

i mean, any idea can be easily corrupted and turned evil

the swatstika wasn’t originally a symbol of genocide until hitler had his run with it, faggot originally referred to a bundle of sticks but now refers to the gays in a negative way because it was said so often during their burnings, and so on

so basically whoever the fuck invented god did do some good with his idea, but because humanity as a whole likes fucking shit up, god is actually a sexist racist little shithead who’ll smite you because it’s fun, and also purge anyone who doesn’t believe in him, and i promise a reward in the afterlife, or eternal torture, whichever one he feels like that day, and a boomer now

so yeah, big oof to whoever made god, if my conclusion is right

and also i was thinking about religion while i was dealing with my story and the tetralogy power and how i wanted to involve all of science, magic, philosophy, and religion to do something, not because i plan to become christian

i’m defining what’s right for myself, not because others say it’s right, so i’ll be remaining an atheist no matter what

simply put, i’m just interested in his origin, who he was originally before all the interpretations and twists people throughout the ages have put on him, and the history of influence god left behind

and no i didn’t do my research on god’s original origins, and honestly i feel that it’s probably not recorded anyway, else it really wouldn’t be “divine” and really show that god doesn’t exist and is man-made

#long post #sfw

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valyntynamaro · 5 years ago

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it’s just business baby - A Jimmy Conway imagine

Jimmy Conway imagine. [TW: Depictions of kidnap, abuse and suicidal thoughts.] (for my friend @thisisn0tal0vest0ry, also i’ve not watched Goodfellas so i’m sorry if I got any characterisation wrong ladiesssss)

You always knew what you were getting yourself into marrying him, you knew the risk that would come with this life that you have chosen for yourself, but you knew that you couldn't help yourself you were so drawn in by him that the threat to your life being with him could pose didn't even cross your mind when he got down on one knee and asked for your hand in marriage. Jimmy Conway was, without a doubt, the love of your life and you'd do anything for him- not that he'd ever ask anything of you because he could get anything that he wanted at the click of his fingers. He too knew too well how dangerous this life he lead was and he knew the toll it would take on you but just as yourself he could neither deny the connection and passion between the two of you.

Promises. Promises, like tradition, should always be honored, that was a firm belief you held a real moral deal breaker. Jimmy had promised to protect your life, he swore on his life and that of your family that he would never let anything bad happen to you for as long as you lived. So why? you wondered, so how? you ached to know- why had you ended up gagged and bound in the back of a car. Your mind raced with ideas, who had taken you? had you been drugged? where were they taking you?- but no answers. You tried to scream but the cloth in your mouth prohibited your efforts, a single tear rolled down your face- for the first time in your life you felt real, raw and uncontrollable fear. You imagined the worst possible scenario's in your head, a force of habit of your own pessimistic nature. In that moment you thought about your dear husband, where was he? would he come after you? Of course he would, you thought to yourself. He promised.

A substantial amount of time passed before you felt the car come to a halt, your breathing became rapid and you braced yourself for whatever or whomever you would face on the outside. Shutting your eyes tight you started to shake again, your anxiety rising at an alarming rate, you felt as though this might be the end fo the road, literally, doomed, your fate must've been set right there and then you believed truly, you would be to die here tonight.

The trunk was opened and you felt a pair of course hands grab you by the restraints around your wrist, pulling you up and out of the car. You didn't dare look at who was in front of you, that would make this whole situation that much worse, putting a face to the evil would make it all too real and you were still holding onto the very slight chance that this was all a dream and that in a moments notice you would wake up in Jimmy's arms. Really, you knew that wasn't the case but you just had trouble admitting that to yourself, when threatened your brain tends to create false realities in which everything is fine, you just wanted to slip away, so you wouldn't have to endure the trauma's you knew people were capable of.

That's one thing you've become accustomed to by being with Jimmy, the evil that resides in this world. At first the murders and the brutality bothered you but after years and years of battling the morality of it all in your mind you came to accept the fact that it's just the way of life, some people are despicable and choose to live their lives as thus, and then there’s people who just go about their business trying to do the best by people, though everyone has evil and sinful thoughts from time to time. Even you could admit to letting your morality slip every now and then, when Jimmy would come home and tell you about a real piece of work he had met that day and all the things they'd done, but strangely you'd never think anything of it when Jimmy had committed a violent and brutal act against someone, love must've blinded you from seeing the worst in your husband, even though you knew at times he could be just as bad at the people he would tell you about.

Still not yet opened your eyes, you heard voice all around you, you had surely been surrounded. "Why don't we just kill the broad now? get her out of the way, make him pay?" One unidentified man laughed, a thick Bronx accent shining through his speech.

"You heard the boss, we don't touch her, we have to wait" another reprimanded, who was the boss? you wondered, you thought about asking but for one you were still gagged and two you were just too afraid of what would happen to you if you did choose to question them.

"okay but would he even notice if we just touched her a little? like what if just hit her...just a few times?" the first man practically salivated at the idea of hurting you, your stomach dropped as you could basically hear the excitement in his voice as he spoke about what he would like to do to you, you were just thankful it was nothing too extreme.

"Boss said no, now cut it and just get him will you!?" the man who held you still asked of the offender impatiently.

"When did you become so boring, man!?" the first man huffs and his footsteps become fainter as he exits the room.

Memories of the events that happened just before you were taken started flooding back, as the pounding in your head became weaker, you remember just putting the twins to bed, you felt a pang of guilt in your stomach as you hoped to God that they hadn't been touched or even worse...you didn't want to think about that, if you didn't think about it, it didn't happen...right?

"Mommy...why is daddy always out late?" your daughter, Delilah, the oldest twin asks as you place a soft maternal kiss to her forehead after tucking her into bed tightly. "You know that daddy's gotta work sweet one" you sigh, it made you sad that your kids were beginning to notice the strange pattern in which your husband worked, sometimes he'd be gone for days at a time on what he called 'business', but you knew better...it wasn't 'business', he was most likely robbing someone out of town. As much as your admired your husband and his work ethic, you hoped and prayed that your children wouldn't follow in his lead and take over what he does, that isn’t the life you had planned for your children, you wanted them to be safe and happy. “I know mama, i just miss him” she pulls the covers closer to her little face and settles into the pillow, just about falling asleep. “I miss him too angel, we all do, but how are we gonna eat if daddy doesn’t work?” you repeat the same bedtime routine on your little boy, Blake, placing an identical kiss on his forehead. “sweet dreams” you smiled as you turned out the lights and closed the door, you were so proud of your kids and so proud of yourself and Jimmy for actually managing to build a stable family and home given the unusual circumstances.

You had just settled down on the couch, ready to tuck into your supper, left over pizza, when there was a pounding at the front door. Who could it be at this hour? it was well past 9 in the evening and you didn’t usually get callers when Jimmy was away, especially not at this time of day. Cautiously you got up, placing your tray down on the table in front of, as you slowly made your way through the large hallway the banging got louder so you sped up, in fear that the noise would disturb your children. When you opened it you didn’t even get a chance to see who it was before a heavy object met with your head and you were knocked out, when you came to you were in the trunk of the car.

“what did I tell you idiots!? huh!?” A bellowing voice startled you, you began to shake in fear again, you instantly recognized who the voice belonged to but you didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t possibly want to think about what will become of you if you are in the presence of the man you think you are. “I don’t know Boss...” the man who had been holding you this entire time confessed, sounding more shy and afraid than he had been when talking down to his colleague beforehand, though you could understand his fear, you felt the same. “I told you to tie the girl up! what are you!? fucking stupid!?” The ‘Boss’ scolds his employee, you felt the mans grip of you weaken as he grew more afraid of the man in front of him. “I h-have Boss” his palms grew sweatier, you took a bit of pleasure out of knowing that this man was afraid, people like him deserve to feel fear, they deserve to feel how they make others feel, when usually they carry out their duties with no remorse whatsoever. “I meant tie her up, suspend her idiot! Jesus fucking Christ! why do I pay you goon!? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!? TIE HER UP THEN!” He shouts, making the two of you jump, the man handling you lets go of you, pushing you to the floor with a thud, you hit your head slightly and yelp.

“Oh, so you’re awake are you sweetheart? i’m glad, then you’ll be able to feel everything I do to you, every hit, every cut and finally...well I won’t spoil the surprise” You open your eyes to see the man you feared to see stood, looming over you, like a dark cloud. Paulie. Your face drained of color and your throat became dry, you surely weren’t going to make it out of here alive.

Within a few minutes you were suspended in the air, held only by your wrists, like Jesus on the cross. You were dressed only in a tank top and some of Jimmy’s shorts, you liked to wear his clothes when he was away, it reminded you of him and why you stayed strong when you felt like you couldn’t cope without him around.

“Aren’t you a beauty” Paulie hissed, running his clammy and disgusting hands down your body, you squirmed at his touch, immediately feeling the urge to run into the shower and bleach your entire body clean, to get rid of his touch, how unclean and impure you felt in that moment, but there was nothing you could do but endure it, with tears pricking at your eyes as he ran his hands all down your body, grabbing at your hips, breasts and butt, you wanted to kick him, to punch him but you were stuck exactly as you were.

By now, tears were fully streaming down your face and you saw a grin appear on Paulies face as he noticed that you had begun sobbing, hard. “Now, lets see what you’ve got on under here shall we?” Paulie is handed a small blade by the man who had been restraining you before, your eyes widened at the sudden realisation of what was going to happen, your breathing again became unruly and you could barely keep still, trying your hardest to free yourself from the rope that was holding you, but it was no use, you could feel your wrists starting to bruise from the pressure.

“stay still you bitch! do you want me to cut you?” he takes the balde to the hem of your tank top and cuts upwards, the sound of the fabric ripping made you feel sick, you wanted to throw up, you wanted to scream but no noise felt your throat, you felt paralyzed, frozen.

You saw one of his hands reach for your chest, your sobs became louder and you managed to make some muffled yells, you thought that you might die there that night, or at least you wished that you would after he had been done with you, you knew what was going to happen and you knew exactly how you would feel afterwards, you already felt and overwhelming amount of disgust.

All of a sudden your ears began to rang and the sound of guns being fired filled the room, one by one all of Paulie’s henchmen had been taken out so all that was left in the room as Paulie yourself and....Jimmy. He had come to save you just as you thought all hope was lost and that you were never going to see him or your kids ever again, just as you had about given up on life.

“get your hands off my wife, Paulie!” Jimmy points the gun at Paulie, not even shaking, you knew that if Paulie tried anything he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, not for one second. On the other hand, you knew Paulie was exactly the same and if Jimmy tried anything, you knew he would kill you, without a doubt.

“finally, you’re here, I thought you were never gonna show up jimmy!” Paulie laughs, letting go of you and stepping towards your husband.~ “What do you want from me? I’ll give you anything you want just let my girl go!” Jimmy states calmly, still not moving the gun out of Paulie’s face.

“5 million” Paulie states blankly, turning to face you again he runs his hand down your exposed chest, right in front of Jimmy, you knew exactly what he was doing, he was trying to get Jimmy riled up so he’d either give him the money...or do something reckless-which was out of character for Jimmy he would only usually lose his cool if someone really pushed him, Paulie was pushing him.

“5 million dollars? that’s what you kidnapped and traumatised my wife for? 5 million fucking dollars!?” you saw the vein in the side of Jimmy head begin to bulge, he was getting close to losing his cool and you feared what he might do to Paulie, sure he probably deserved whatever Jimmy would do to him but you didn’t want to be the cause of it.

“well you know how I like to keep people on their toes” he smirks, moving more towards Jimmy, leaving you completely, it was only then you realised how exposed you were and felt the immediate need to cover yourself up but you still couldn’t move.

“you’re a real fucking asshole Paulie, you know that? a real piece of fucking work, untie her and you’ll get your money” Jimmy spat, lowering his gun so it was now by his side.

“I would but, you shot my men so i’m afraid you’ll have to do it” he threw the knife down by your husband, this seemed strange to you, why would he just willingly let him untie you, knowing that Jimmy will probably just run without giving him the money, you felt uneasy as Jimmy walked towards you, grabbing the knife, something was wrong.

He cut loose both your arms and you fell to floor limply, your body aching from being suspended so long, you could barely move your arms, Jimmy takes off his jacket and puts it round you, you smile smally as he kisses you on the top of the head.

He props himself up on one knee and he begins to get up, that’s when you realised, the moment you knew what Paulie was doing, your gut sunk and your eyes widened in horror as it appeared that time was flowing in slow motion as Jimmy continued to get up, a dull bang filled your eyes, it stung and you knew exactly what happened, your hands flew to cover your face as your husband slowly fell back to the ground landing just beside you.

Time sped back up and he was just lying there, limp on the floor like a ragdoll, his mouth wide open and so were his eyes, looking directly into yours as blood poured continuously from the hole that now bore into his forehead, you screamed, tears flowing faster than they had all night, you didn’t even know what to do, you just sat there and sobbed. Scrambling over to your dearest husbands body, holding and shaking him but to no avail.

“You asshole! you fucking asshole! you killed him!” you screamed, hugging into your still warm husbands still chest, your cries were just met with a dark laugh from Paulie.

“It’s just business baby” he laughs and turns his back to walk away, you didn’t know what came over you but all you could feel was the overwhelming feeling of rage, you knew you weren’t going to like what you were about to do but you couldn’t seem to stop your arm from leaning over to grab the gun that was beside Jimmy, the one he had been pointing a Paulie minutes ago.

without even saying a word, you shot Paulie, you had never fired a gun before so your aim was a little off, you fired and fired until the gun was empty but luckily it was enough for Paulie to fall to the floor with a pained scream.

“it’s just business baby” you said coldly, doing up the jacket that Jimmy had placed around you before lying beside your husband, just to hold him one last time.

#goodfellas #jimmyconway #goodfellasimagine #jimmyconwayimagine #imagine

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dolphin-bouillabaisse · 5 years ago

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GO-ctober Prompt, 7

Inktober except without the ink, and with drabbles instead.

Prompt #7 - Enchanted

(previous | next | beginning)

(find it all on Ao3)

(Note: A completely different thing this time, because this is only Chapter 1 of a fic now! I liked the idea so much I decided to run far, far away with it. The next chapters will get to Ao3 sometime this month, I hope.)

Crowley stared at the bag hidden inside a cupboard of Aziraphale's kitchen that he knew the angel never opened. (Why he had it then, he wasn't quite sure, but it had been a good place to hide everything from surprise baked goods to secretly stolen wine. Maybe it was his sheer stubborn belief that Aziraphale would never find it there that made sure he actually didn't.)

What was hidden inside the bag itself was a moral dilemma. Crowley was not a big fan of those. He usually left them for the humans to hem and haw over. Demon's didn't have morals, so there was nothing to have a dilemma about.

Except.

Except when it came to certain angels and certain relationships-that-weren't-really-relationships but might have a chance to become actual relationships if either of them had ever dared to talk about possible relationships.

As it stood, this was a moral dilemma for Crowley himself to work out.

And all because of that dam-bles- that witch.

-*-

They'd spent an almost agreeable afternoon tea with her and her boyfriend who'd only said something incredibly rude once, or maybe twice, without realising until Anathema had kicked him under the table hard enough. (That was always good for a laugh, the humans thinking they'd somehow insulted the two of them. As if either of them cared. Well, Aziraphale maybe, all puffing up and fiddling with his buttons. Crowley was, of course, too cool to care.)

They'd had tea and biscuits and some very sweet, very sticky little cakes Anathema had made after her great-grandmother's recipe and Aziraphale had practically swooned over. They'd made chit-chat, or at least Aziraphale and Newt had, while Anathema and he had dived down their on-going discussion about conspiracy theories. (This would've made round 15 of this particular debate, and neither would admit they liked it. They absolutely did. Aziraphale had caught Crowley re-searching the newest arguments for and against certain conspiracies prior to the last two times they'd met up.)

And then, for reasons beyond Crowley's understanding, Anathema had asked him to help with clearing the table. Usually it was Aziraphale almost falling over his own feet trying to get up and help, only to be put back into his seat with a stern smile of the witch and her assurance that she and Newt would manage just fine. (They never did, though, as Newt would end up dropping at least one of the cups or plates. He was lucky their pottery was already a random mix of donation store and flea-market finds.)

He'd gotten up, begrudgingly (but surprisingly fast, Aziraphale noted – it usually took far longer to convince Crowley to do some kind of help, unless you were a particular angel in trouble of course), and trotted into the kitchen with a full tray, Anathema and the plate of biscuits (minus two, which Newt and Aziraphale had quickly nabbed) behind him.

“Thank you.” She smiled in that mysterious, annoying way she had while putting the dishes into the sink.

“Don't thank me.” Crowley shuddered. “Tell me what you want instead.”

“What I want?” “You clearly had a reason for getting me alone. What do you want?”

Anathema sighed. “Do you always assume the worst?”

“Demon. Job description.” Crowley waved the now empty tray around, miraculously not hitting any of the shelves in the tiny kitchen.

“Yes. Alright. Makes sense.” Another sigh. “I only wanted you away from Aziraphale because I have something for you, and I know he'll be so delighted he'll rip it out of your hands before you even get to look at it. And that kind of defeats the point.”

Crowley watched her rummage through a cupboard, followed by a few whispered swears (there was a reason she was one of the few humans he might someday admit he enjoyed the company of), until she pulled out a little paper bag and held it up. They exchanged a pointed look between each other.

“Oh god, stop acting as if it's going to bite your hand off. It's a gift. Just take it.”

“Why would you get me a gift?” He took the bag, though, peering inside for just a second. It contained more small bags. Rather suspicious.

“It's nothing special, don't worry, I didn't think of you or showed you any kind of nicety with this, I know how much you pretend to hate that.” (Anathema's mocking smile was another point for the list of 'things I might actually like about this human'.) “I've started experimenting with tea-blends for spells, and I figured you had a better use for this set than I do.”

“Tea for spells? What am I supposed to do with that? I'm a demon, not a witch. I don't do spells.” He sniffed into the bag for a second, hit with a wave of all sorts of spices, herbs and tea. He counted six little bags, exactly enough for a pot of tea each.

“You drink them, you doofus.” (Daring enough to call him that without flinching at his evil glare that followed? Another point for the list.) “Or rather, you have someone drink them.” A pointed eye-roll into the direction of the living room, where Aziraphale was still chatting away as Newt only nodded and 'mhm'ed from time to time.

Another moment of shared looks, another sigh. “Crowley, for all I care, throw them in the bin as soon as you get home. Or not. Maybe just give them a try, and see if you like the results, is all I'm saying.”

-*-

And that was that. And now he was standing in Aziraphale's kitchen, having offered to make the tea this time, for reason beyond his understanding. Or maybe not completely beyond, but for a reason he did not want to actually admit. Thus, the moral dilemma had been born.

He could make some normal tea. He knew where the bags of Earl Grey were, or the box of loose leaf Darjeeling. He could make some tea, bring it back to Aziraphale, have him drink it while reading, watch him enjoy it from the couch, end of story. Evening spent as usual. No problem at all. No enchanting or magickying or bewitching or whatever you'd call it. No influencing the innocent angel. No pushing on the door to that whole 'relationship' business they'd so neatly packed away without ever mentioning it.

The little bags of tea in the big bag were also very neatly marked. Anathema's handwriting was squiggly and slightly off, and actually made it easier for Crowley to read, (a discover which he pretended to hate for a little while, before being busy hating the descriptions on the tea). He'd read the notes over and over and over again by now, and was glad for a short second that Aziraphale was once again too engrossed in reading to notice how long he'd been gone.

'Receiving Gifts', one bag said. 'Words of Affirmation', the other. 'Quality Time' and 'Acts of Service' had caught his eye at first, but were quickly interrupted by 'Physical Touch'.

At the bottom, slightly smaller and neater tucked away, lay the worst offender.

'Eternal Love'.

This is ridiculous. He stood up to put the kettle on. As if drinking some tea would have any effect like this. He took out the the angel-wing mug. As if a human was able to create something that would have any influence over an ethereal being. He stared at the paper bag now sitting on the counter. As if he was going to try to enchant the angel with something as ridiculous as a cup of tea. He dropped 'Receiving Gifts' into the cup.

Steeped and strained, with one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk, the tea found itself softly placed next to the angel, currently deep into a giant tome of something or other he'd found just last week and couldn't tear his eyes from ever since.

He tore them off of it now, though, to look bewildered at the cup, then, somewhat softer, up at the demon who'd placed it. He'd apparently all but forgotten that Crowley had said something about making a cuppa only – oh, fifteen minutes or so ago.

“Figured you might need a drink after breathing in all that bookdust.”

“Oh, dear boy.” Aziraphale curled his fingers around the cup, breathed in the steam coming from it. “That's very thoughtful of you.”

Crowley made a rough noise while staring at- the cup? The angel? Hard to tell. His thoughts were all over the place, yet he was definitely not thoughtful. Especially not this time. Selfish, more like.

“Don't go down that route, angel.”

“Sorry. But thank you, still. What tea is this?” Another sniff of the aroma, decidedly not Earl Grey. Something deep, something herby. Utterly lovely.

“Beats me. Something I found in your cupboards. Pour it out if you don't like it.”

Aziraphale gave him an almost scolding look (as if he'd ever pour tea down the drain instead of enjoying it thoroughly) before taking a sip.

“Oh, it's lovely!”

Crowley swallowed down the rising feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Nothing seemed to have happened. Why should something happen anyway? They'd returned to their places, Aziraphale over his book, Crowley on the sofa, trying his very best to hang off of it as nonchalantly as usual, and somewhat failing. Far too focused on watching the angel take sip after sip, until the cup was empty yet again. Waiting. Watching.

For what? Nothing was going to happen. It was tea. The witch had played a prank on him, or anyway her work was far too simple to have any effect on a non-human, and it's not like he'd actually expected anything to-

Aziraphale got up. Crowley's mind stilled.

“That reminds me!” (What reminded him of what, exactly? Aziraphale's train of thought was impossible to follow, as always.) “I have something for you.”

“You what?” Crowley only managed to stutter, but Aziraphale had already disappeared behind a bookshelf, returning with a small plastic box.

“Here, I found this at the same Antiques' store I found this lovely tome.” Crowley stared – at Aziraphale this time, definitely. He was still holding the box in his direction. “I remember, you said the last one had turned in your car again. I hope I got the right one?”

He wasn't quite sure what exactly he was doing as he took it from his hands. The thing. The box. He should look at the box. Not at Aziraphale. The box. Look at it, you doofus.

It was a cassette tape of the Velvet Underground. (Crowley wasn't sure if this record had actually ever come out as a cassette tape, but where there was an angelic will, there was apparently a way.)

“Well?” Aziraphale interrupted the myriad of thoughts racing through Crowley's mind. “Is it the right one?”

“It is.” His voice was surprisingly hoarse, as if he had been screaming. (He had, inwardly. Hopefully only inwardly.) “It absolutely is.”

Aziraphale gave him a smile, one of those smiles, the ones that made him feel all melty and soft and nice like he shouldn't feel. Especially not now. Especially not the way he had caused it.

“The right kind of Bebop, yes?” He joked, expectantly, and Crowley stifled a laugh, as he was expected to do. He didn't have much of a mind to play their usual game right now. Luckily, Aziraphale didn't seem to expect much more, as he went back to his desk and tome. Crowley went back to staring at the tape.

'Receiving Gifts', he thought. And then his mind raced to the other 5 bags hiding in the cupboard.

It was going to be a morally tough week. He was not a fan of those.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #my writing #prompts #october prompts

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