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bathomet-writes · 2 years ago

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confessions

summary: A church wasn't the most ideal place for a date, but there were certainly some things Donnie and you had to get off of your chests. What better place to do them than in a confessional booth?

relationship: 2012!Donnie x GN!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, secret dating, slight hurt/comfort, awkward flirting and confessions (lol), kissing, PDA (sort of)

word count: 5,972

author's note: a request from 🫐 anon!! i thought i could write a 2012 donnie fic without referencing april but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Hello?”

You knocked gently against the oak doors. The Catholic church next to your apartment always loomed over you. The intricate stained-glass windows and crosses became fairly familiar to you over the years. The church was just a part of the tapestry of your life, but you never went inside. Not that you had any good reason to, but you still felt a little bad that the thought never crossed your mind.

The unintentional guilt just happened to come to a head tonight, as you stood before the main entrance. It was a bit of an impulse decision, but you texted Donnie to meet you here instead of your usual hangout spot. You two had been spending a lot more time together, outside the lair. You really didn’t know why he didn’t want to just stick to his lab or the living room, there was plenty to do there.

Maybe he just needed to get out of the sewers? Eh, whatever.

You knock again, listening to the hollow sound echo inside. It was haunting.

“Uh…sanctuary?” You inquire to no one in particular.

Shouldn’t churches be open all the time? Reaching down to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked. What luck.

“Woah,” you gasp, creeping into the main area. The nave, if you could recall your bible study lessons, was what it was called. It had been years since you’ve even stepped foot in a church.

Looking around the pews, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. No late night sinners praying for forgiveness or old ladies reading the bible. Just a huge, empty chapel. There were a couple candles flickering dimly in lanterns, at the ceiling and around the pulpit, so there must have been someone around. It made you feel a little better about barging in, at least there was an employee still here. An employee of God.

You chortle to yourself as you get settled. The front row seemed the only appropriate seating option, and you ease onto the worn wood of the bench. The pew was a tad uncomfortable, or maybe it was just the awkward feeling of being inside a church. The holy beauty of the tapestries, the windows, the image of the Virgin Mary and Jesus statues staring wistfully into the audience: all of it sent a chill up your spine.

“Jesus– I mean…Jeez.”

Phew, that was a close one.

You needed to relax. Maybe while you were here, waiting for Donnie, you could try and shake out the ‘ol praying hands. You were probably due for a talk with the Big Guy anyway. This was a judgment-free zone, just imagine Him sitting backwards in a folding chair and air your grievances.

The kneeler groaned with your added weight as you shifted to get into prime prayer position. At least they had some velvet upholstery. The only comfortable way to sit in a church was apparently if you were on your knees in penitence. You fiddle with your hands, trying to find the best praying gesture. Folding your fingers, or the classic hands clasped together, palms flush? You kind of looked like you were trying to do some hand ninjitsu or something.

“Just–” You take in a steadying breath, calming your nerves. “There.”

Once you have your hands positioned, you shut your eyes. For some reason, you felt a lot more relaxed now. Having to look at all the religious symbols was making you jumpy.

And now, the moment of truth.

“...”

Huh, that was weird. You didn’t even think anything, let alone say anything out loud. Let’s try that again.

“...Ahem.” You cough.

Perfect.

“Augh, this is so stupid. I don’t know what to say.”

You sigh to yourself, reveling in your own self-pity. This was depressing. Sitting like this with your eyes closed was making you almost too relaxed, and you couldn’t think of a simple prayer. The only thing that came to mind was the bedtime one you used to do when you were a kid. Oh no, that was making it worse.

How did it go again? ‘Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep,’ or something like that. Your eyelids grew heavier with every word.

Maybe you could just sit here for a second, just to calm down. You fell asleep in church all the time listening to the pastor’s sermons. How was this any different?

—

Donnie punched the coordinates you sent him back into his T-Phone. For some reason, the results kept popping up as a church! Surely you didn’t mean to send him to a place like that. It just didn’t seem like the kind of establishment you’d want to hang out in. Especially in a…romantic context.

Plus, he wasn’t too sure how welcomed he would be going in as a mutant turtle. Sure, churches were accepting of all kinds of people, human or otherwise. Wasn’t everyone made in His image? Even Donnie? His brothers, dad, and all the other mutants he knew probably didn’t look anything like what God was supposed to look like. But who was to say? He was a man of science, not theology.

“Somehow, I feel like everyday we stray further from God’s light.” He sighs, landing on the sidewalk from the perch atop your roof. He felt kind of corny saying that out loud, considering he was now standing face-to-face with the titular building.

The church…in all its divinity. Donnie gulped, all of the sudden feeling quite small.

Looking at the GPS, this was the right place. And the tracking pin from your phone pointed in this direction. Even though your apartment was right there, just a couple of feet away. He could see your window from here too. Maybe he could just convince you to move your little congregation to your room instead? It looked so cozy from here, so familiar.

No, that was ridiculous. Wherever you wanted to meet was fine, it was more than fine! The topic of your hangouts was sort of a sore subject with Donatello. Not because he didn’t want to do what you wanted to do, it was just…

Complicated. That was the best way to put it.

“Oh well, here goes nothing.” Donnie cracks his neck, putting on a tough face.

Gathering up all the confidence he could, he bursts through the large double-doors.

“EEP–!”

That wasn’t exactly the entrance he intended on making. The doors were thankfully pretty heavy, so all they did was slowly creak open. At least they didn’t slam against the wall. The ancient hinges screech through the empty hall, announcing his presence.

Donnie’s newfound bravery was replaced with sheepishness. Chuckling, he takes a quick look around.

“No big deal, I’m sure nobody heard that.” He whispers, tip-toeing forward.

Behind him, the large doors seem to swing back closed by themselves. The loud CLICK of them shutting makes Donnie spin around.

“No…that didn’t just happen? Was that a ghost? A Holy Ghost?”

The church was empty, save for one person at the first row of pews. They must be a regular here, the way they were bent over in prayer. He walked on, furiously texting you. This place was giving Donnie the creeps.

“Where are you? Being here feels…kind of sacrilegious.” He winces, glancing around.

Mindlessly, Donnie made his way to the very end of the pews to stand at the pulpit. The podium cast a long, intimidating shadow over him. Tearing his nervous gaze away, he landed on the person sitting at the front row. They must be pretty deep in prayer, their head was completely slumped over onto their hands.

Donnie’s heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the patron. He almost forgot someone else was there. He was usually a bit high-strung all the time, but the eerie silence was making his skin crawl.

Giving them a polite, if not slightly awkward smile, Donnie backs away. “Sorry, thought you were someone else…”

The only response he gets is a muffled snore.

“Wait—“

Reaching out, Donnie pulls them up by the shoulder. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes slowly blinking up at him.

This was no patron, it was you!

“Hey! What are you doing?” He whisper-shouts, shaking you about. “I’ve been texting you!”

In your tired state, it takes you a second to realize who just woke you up. And to realize that you were fast asleep.

“ACK–!” You shriek, practically jumping up. “I– Wait, how long have I been here?”

Donnie shimmies past you and places his hands on your shoulders again, sitting you both down.

“Quiet down! What is up with your sleep schedule anyway?” He jokes, giving you a small squeeze.

You had been having trouble sleeping lately, but how did Donnie know that? You smirk up at him, rubbing at your eyes.

“It’s kind of the middle of the night. Not all of us are night-stalking vigilantes. Some of us have real jobs…during the day.”

You let out a yawn, shamelessly stretching out into Donnie’s personal space. He rolls his eyes, letting you fall into his lap a bit. He couldn’t argue with that logic. Nor could he protest to you hugging him.

“Are you into church now, is that it?”

Huffing, you kneel back down to resume your prayer. Donnie follows suit, albeit a bit hesitantly.

“Only when they’re open 24/7,” you frown. “I just wanted to…y’know.”

You really didn’t know why. But, you were curious to see if Donnie could tell.

He hums to himself while mimicking your pose, kneeling over and folding his hands. Watching his oblong number of fingers interlaced with each other is far more interesting for some reason.

After considering it, he shuts his eyes as well. “Like Mcdonald's.”

You choke on a giggle, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle yourself.

“…God? Are you there? Can I get a #5 with sweet and sour sauce?”

Donnie sounds like he has to hold himself back too. Eventually the two of you just crack and give in to laughter. Being together seemed to make you both forget how alone you were in the church.

You snort, covering up your mouth in shame.

“Alright, enough! This is a sacred place. Have some respect.”

But, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh at you even more.

“Aww, that was adorable!” He gushes, poking at your cheek. And he thought he had a dorky laugh!

Damn, you couldn’t resist when he teased you so playfully. But you wouldn’t break. He continues prodding at you, waiting for your stone-cold scowl to disappear. Any minute now.

“How can the sacredness of this place compete with how silly and cute you are? Honestly? What if Mcdonald’s is my church?”

You have to bury your face in your hands. With a quivering lip and shaky shoulders, you can only shake your head.

“S-Stop.” You sputter, warning Donnie. He sure knew how to wield humor like a blunt instrument. Not quite as well as his bo staff, but still.

When he finally stops his jabbering and poking, you flit one eye open. You look to your right, finding him staring at your face, and with such a smug smirk too.

There it was.

“Okay, I give. Uncle,” you grin, hands falling to your lap in defeat. “You’re so annoying sometimes.”

“You have no idea.”

You turn to give him a more earnest look. It had almost slipped your mind that perhaps your dates with Donnie shouldn’t consist only of witty digs and banter.

Tonight was date number four, and it was honestly sort of a surprise to you. A week ago, you probably would have sworn up and down you wouldn’t make it to two. Maybe you could chalk the record up to your boundless charm and dashing good looks?

Unbeknownst to you, Donnie was feeling the same way. Call it rejection anxiety or imposter syndrome, but he just didn’t think he’d be so lucky. Not only did you agree to a date, you agreed to multiple dates. As in plural!

You two sit in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. There weren’t any rules against just sitting quietly in a church at night, right?

“Thanks for coming here. My room’s kind of a mess right now, and the lair—“

You stumble over your words. That last part sort of just…came out. You cut Donnie off before he can comment on it though.

“Well, you know what I mean. It can get pretty crowded there anyway.” You wave your hand at him, dispelling any doubt.

A tiny bit of sweat begins to form on Donnie’s brow. As if you actually think he didn’t notice your sudden change in tone, the way your voice hitched? He knew all your tells.

Still, he didn’t want to really talk about it either. He returns your small smile with his own.

“Yeah, crowded. Haha…” He chuckles.

“Why must our rendezvous be hidden under the cover of night? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

The mood was getting a little too dour for a second there. Time to try to lighten things up.

“Ha-ha.” Donnie utters sarcastically under his breath.

“That’s it, you’re embarrassed of me. The public shame, the ridicule!” You throw yourself over his lap again, lying fully on your back.

Your pathetic attempts to make Donnie flustered were admirable, but useless. Not even if you were making him sweatier. Calmly, he slides down an inch or two down the bench. “No, I just prefer the light of the harvest moon.”

As your head falls against the seat, you give him the stink eye. “We’ve got ourselves a real romantic here.”

You knew you guys couldn’t really go out on daytime dates. New York was still unfortunately not too keen on mutants. You suddenly felt sobered up thinking about it.

“Okay,” you sigh, sitting up. “Let’s just skip all that. How are you, what’s happening in the criminal underworld?”

“Oh, you know. Foot Clan, petty thieves, same old, same old.”

You nod lazily along as he goes on.

“Actually, there was this fascinating article on genetic engineering I found! I was working on my retromutagen compound, trying to streamline the production process and whatnot. Just when you think you’ve used every kind of molecular centrifuge.”

Suddenly, he stops. He did have a tendency to rant about science stuff when allowed. His brothers usually shut him up after only a couple of seconds though. But you were silent. You were being so nice, it was actually making him blush.

You cock your head to the side. “Lose your train of thought?”

“Uh, I don’t know?” He scratches the back of his head, looking over to you. “Just surprised you haven’t interrupted me yet. I know I can get kind of boring sometimes.”

Self-deprecation was sadly a part of Donnie’s core personality. You were used to it by now, but it was still a bad habit. Quickly, you slide closer to him and pinch at his bicep, snapping him out of it.

“I’m sorry— Boo, boo.” You shove a thumbs-down in his face, mockingly wagging it around.

He rolls his eyes, batting you away. “Please, don’t even joke about that.”

His tone was tired but not too stern. You pull away, throwing your arm over the back of the pew.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I don’t know all that much about science, but I do enjoy your infodumping. It’s like being back in Scholar’s Bowl.”

Donnie leans back, following your gaze with eagerness.

“Do you really mean it?” He looks at you with awe.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully and you’re rewarded with one of Donnie’s rare smiles. The one that’s wide enough to show off his tooth gap.

Damn, that was cute.

“But, uh…what’s Scholar’s Bowl?” He searches around the room, trying to look for the answer in his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

You shake your head a bit to rid yourself of the incoming wave of fluffy feelings. It was hard to focus on what he was talking about with his silly, adorable smile plastered on his face.

“Just an after-school thing I did. It’s a bunch of quizzes, like a trivia competition?”

You watch as Donnie’s eyes fall back on you, and light up. You had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be interested.

“So it’s like…a battle of intellect?”

“Yup, all the schools compete against each other. It’s fun and educational.” You muse, twirling a piece of hair between your fingers.

Weird, you didn’t usually do that. You drop the lock with an embarrassed smirk.

Donnie, despite his reputation for being observant, overlooks your shy expression. The stars sparkling in his eyes must be obscuring his vision.

“Educational and fun? That’s the best kind of fun!”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, standing up to work out your restless legs.

“I could have really used you on my team too. I was always shit at the science and math categories, my forte was pop culture.”

You feel a warmth spread through your fingers and toes, thinking about you and him like that. You two could absolutely demolish a trivia night, or Pictionary. With his book smarts and your…(arguably useless) pieces of random facts, your combined powers would be unstoppable.

Donnie stands up too, walking behind you over to the side of the pews. There were plenty of hallways and rooms you two could explore, but the church didn’t have much else to offer. It was pretty, but that was it.

“Dang, I didn’t realize this place was so…” He trails off as he follows along. “What’s the word I’m looking for?”

You saunter over to the confessional booth nearby, peeking in to steal a look or two. You’ve never been in one of these things before either.

“Ornate? Gaudy? Pretentious?” You slip past the corner to open up the curtain, beckoning Donnie to step inside.

“I was gonna go with sanctimonious.”

He takes your invitation and takes a seat. The booth was only about as big as a cabinet, so it was awkward for him to sit in it. You whistle quietly before moving to the other side.

“Nice word.” You admit.

“Thank you.”

You shift around, finding yourselves in another old piece of wooden furniture. “You’d think they’d spend some of the tithes on more comfortable seats.”

Donnie kicks his foot against the built-in bench, shrugging. “You’re not wrong. Splinter used to have this saying: Riches are like the wind, you only feel it when it’s moving.”

You purse your lips together. “That’s profound. But you’re not the one who’s supposed to dispense wisdom right now.”

“Are you asking me to confess my sins?” Donnie sits up, trying to look at you through the privacy screen that separated you two.

Shifting into therapist mode, you clear your throat and get into a more authoritative position. “I assume it’s been some time since your last confession?”

Ah, you weren’t joking. Donnie tosses you a perplexed look, his eye ridge lowering. Was this some kind of impromptu venting session? He decided to play along for now. There was surprisingly a lot he wanted to get off of his shell.

“Oh boy, where do I start? I’m still grappling with the fact that I’m a young adult, with hangups and petty problems. I’m a recovering know-it-all, I’m overly-critical, I overthink and oversay basically everything–”

“Alright, let’s just slow down.” You shush, chuckling a bit. “I don’t think I’m qualified to handle…all that.”

Donnie sighs with relief, in spite of himself. He was thankful for you cutting him off, he was this close to oversharing too. He clutches at his chest, absentmindedly feeling his heart rate increase.

“Sorry, I’m also a hypocrite.”

You raise your hands, trying in vain to pacify him from across the booth. This setup was a little too detached for your liking now, you wish you could go over and hold his hand or something. Anything to help him through his belittling talk.

“No, you’re not. You can say whatever you want in here, that’s kind of the point.” You smile, peering through the screen.

It’s hard to make out, but you think he shrugs again. You guess that was better than nothing. Donnie goes quiet on the other side, making you feel like you need to fill the silence.

“Uh…my turn?” You venture.

“Sure. Go for it.” His voice sounded only slightly less despondent.

You take that as your cue. There was plenty for you to vent about too, but you might as well take this opportunity to voice some of your concerns. Nothing that pressing, just things that were lingering in the back of your mind.

Maybe it would be best to phrase it in the form of juicy gossip. A spoonful of sugar.

“Wanna know a secret?” You lean up to the thin material of the screen, whispering directly to Donnie.

“What’s that?” He takes the bait.

You take in a small breath through your nose. Hopefully he wouldn’t take this the wrong way.

“I used to hate you.”

A beat of silence follows, Donnie going stock still. His brain seems to lag, like the internet connection cutting out for a second. He knew you were mostly kidding, but based on your shared rocky history, it wasn’t all that surprising.

But, it was true. You two used to be more like frenemies, locked in a tense relationship of one-upmanship and bickering. It was cute, but rather exhausting for other people to endure.

“Sounds about right.” That’s all he offers, causing you to take a pause.

“I mean, only a little bit. I’m sure it was mostly the hormones, or the weird way I like to flirt. It’s more like bullying than flirting.” You scratch an invisible pattern into the side of the booth, sulking into your seat.

“I know, I would have hated me too. If you think I’m a dork now, you wouldn’t believe how insufferable I was before.”

“I think everyone hates their past self, it’s not that weird.” You frown.

The two of you look toward each other for a second before chuckling. To the uninformed observer, your laughs sound stilted, even a little forced. Donnie forgot that you two had that in common, the pessimistic tendencies. It wasn’t depressing though. If anything, it was comforting. You got one another, but you were never too enabling.

“Guess we both have some sins to repent for.” He sets his head onto his hands, feeling slightly less agitated.

You lick at your teeth, squeaking in response. “Yup.”

For a moment, you consider keeping the next confession to yourself. There was one more ugly thought that sat at the tip of your tongue, but it was embarrassing.

“I, uh…I also kind of hated April.”

Once you start, you don’t wait for Donnie to respond.

“We talked about it before, don’t worry. It’s all water under the bridge. But I knew I had a crush on you, even if it seemed like I didn’t.”

It pained you to admit, but it was true. You were actually pretty jealous of April back then, despite your active denial. Dealing with feelings was complicated for anyone, but being an audience to the love triangle of April, Donnie, and Casey was even more confusing. It was hard to be around them sometimes. You still don’t know how Casey worked into it, he didn’t seem like the type to get caught up in that kind of stuff.

“It was a mess of unrequited feelings. That’s what it was. It’s actually kind of funny when I think about it now, hindsight and everything.”

You remember how diluted you were, so quick to reject your obvious feelings for Donnie in favor of resentment. You were convinced that you just didn’t like him, for whatever nebulous reason. Not because you secretly liked him and watching him rub his big, fat crush on April in your face made your blood boil. Those feelings were fleeting memories now, but they still weighed on you.

Jealousy was just about one of the ugliest things to experience, and you feel the old guilt twist at your guts. Ugh, it was sickening.

“Teenagers, am I right?” You quip, waiting for Donnie to chime in.

Donnie takes in all your words, mulling them around in his mind before speaking. There was suddenly a lot more that he had to say to you.

“I’m sorry for keeping this…whatever this is a secret.” He continues to hang his head in his hands, talking into his palm. “I know I’ve been avoiding talking about it–”

Even without the privacy screen, it didn’t take much for you to avoid looking at Donnie too.

“You’re worried your brothers will tease you, I don’t blame you.”

“No, I’m a coward. It’s like– Why should I worry about what they think? I know they don’t mean to make fun, it’s just how we are. It’s not their fault though, I just don’t…” He leans back, vaguely waving his hands about.

“Don’t want to–” You add.

Finally, you both speak in unison.

“Get my heart broken.”

The way your voices fold over one another, you swore it was like something out of a video game. You can see the little achievement banner now: ‘Embarrassing Backstory Unlocked.’

Your throat grows tight, and Donnie gulps. You both didn’t expect to be so on the same page. It was like you read his mind.

“Spooky,” he concedes. “You’re really good at this confession thing.”

Slowly, your foot inches out of the side of the booth. You needed to get up again, the wooden seat was starting to make you really uncomfortable.

“You know me, always full of surprises.”

Donnie doesn’t hear the tiny shift of the wood or the sound of you sneaking over to his side of the booth. You stand at the other curtain, timidly rocking on your heels.

“Same, only my surprises aren’t quite as charming. Some Mr. Right I turned out to be.”

He also doesn’t notice your presence just beyond the curtain. You were so close, maybe a little too close. You think you should stop yourself from overstepping a boundary, but you can’t help but reach a hand out to part the fabric.

With a dry chuckle, Donnie shakes his head. This was supposed to be better, he was supposed to be different. Deep down, he knew he couldn’t stop the inevitable comparison to April. Why was he messing this up? The second-hand embarrassment made him cringe.

Then, you grab his attention with the swift movement of your hand. You tear through the curtain and move to sit next to him. The small bench was barely big enough to hold Donnie, but you try to sit next to him regardless.

“Uh!” He stammers, a redness coloring his cheeks. “I-I don’t think…”

This was definitely too close.

But you don’t care. You needed to look him in the eye, no barriers or awkward feelings would get in the way.

“Why are you so concerned with being Mr. Right? Why not Mr. We’ll See, Mr. It’s Complicated.” You grab at Donnie’s face, urging him to keep his eyes on you.

“Wha–?” He furrows his brow, his gaze trained on your lips. Eh, close enough.

“What I mean is, why are you putting so much pressure on yourself?”

Saying it outloud, the answer was fairly obvious. But your question still stood.

Donnie’s towering height didn’t deter you from leaning closer, craning your head up to maintain eye contact. Your steadfast and straightforward nature made him a little flustered sometimes, it was hard to keep up with you.

But, he kind of liked it. You made him feel exhilarated, his heart hammering in his chest from both nerves and affection. His pulse echoes in his ears as he finds the right words.

“Because I like you. I really like you and I don’t know what to do.”

His eyes go glassy for a moment, but this wasn’t the time to be sad. He couldn’t put all this pressure on you either. But it was the honest truth. He was smart when it came to science and inventions, but love? Real love was a mystery to Donnie.

When you hear his honest, vulnerable confession, it rings true for you too.

Slowly, you move your hands away from his face. Then you lean your head against his plastron.

Donnie moves only slightly to look down at you, an expectant expression on your face. Once again, you surprise him.

“I don’t know what to do either, if that helps?” Your lips draw up into a goofy smile.

Seeing you look up at him so sweetly, Donnie’s heart thrummed even more. It was honestly making him a little dizzy. But there was no roadmap to a real relationship, and you were a completely different person from April. Certainly different from him, but that was good. He liked how different you were, even if you two had similar qualities.

“It does…” He sighs, his hand creeping up to palm at your cheek. “So, now what?”

Shifting the conversation back to the confessional, he smiles timidly and waits for you to answer. He could wait for however long you needed, the tiny room felt a lot less claustrophobic and a lot more relaxing all of the sudden.

“Oh, right. Just do ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers and you’ll be fine.”

You flick your hand up to sign the cross at him, signaling the completion of your confessions. There had been enough atonement and self-punishment for one night.

Donnie’s chest rumbles, his laughter making your head move.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” he grins, lifting your head up to meet his own.

The lilt of his voice makes your throat tighten up again. You didn’t really know why, but his body language was so much more confident than before. And who knew his voice had such an effect on you? You didn’t, that’s for sure.

“What do you mean then?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Before you know it, you watch as Donnie lets his eyelids drop and leans in for a kiss. For once, he forgoes talking and allows his actions to speak for themselves.

For the first time in a long time, you feel your face begin to heat up. You didn’t get flustered that easily, but Donnie was being so…

Brazen.

You don’t know if you should slap him or smooch him. Maybe you could lean into it, crash your lips into his even harder. There was that old competitiveness again, it was like how you felt around Donnie when you were younger. If anyone was going to pull the first move in this relationship, it was you!

But, you were afraid of what would happen next. You really didn’t know what would transpire here if you let yourself get caught up in his advances. This was God’s house, after all. You could just feel the disapproving look from up above.

“Hey, Don.”

Donnie stills, his lips ghosting over yours. His breath is warm, and oddly tantalizing.

Fuck, you were turning into a simp with every passing moment. How uncouth.

His words and movements are slow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Yes?”

“Wrong kind of booth.” You smirk.

You move your hand to his plastron to push him away, only from Donnie to catch you by the wrist. The bold gesture ignites a fire in your belly.

“Eh, I’ll just do another Hail Mary or two.” He shoots an indignant, cocky smirk right back at you.

“Wait, wha–”

Donnie flips the script and shuts you up for once, pressing his lips softly against yours. You feel a series of hot flashes overtake your body. As you start to feel motionless, your limbs go slack and your eyes flutter closed. It just seemed inappropriate to look at someone while you were…kissing.

Kissing. Donnie was kissing you. You have a moment of clarity before you feel his tongue slide hesitantly along your bottom lip. Then, your mind goes blank again.

You’re somehow frozen in place. The only movement you can muster is your lips parting slightly, your neck angling in such a way that lets you lean into him. A gasp of surprise from Donnie hums against your mouth as you deepen the kiss.

For what seems like hours, the two of you commit a rather sinful act in the privacy of the confession booth. You feel your eyebrows knit together, reeling from the shameful display.

Another sound from Donnie, a low chur, makes your eyes open again. That wasn’t a sound you’ve ever heard from him before. You separate when you see his eyes are open as well, staring unabashedly at you.

He blushes harder, knowing that he’d been caught. “I’m sorry, you just looked so–!”

“You’re so weird,” you cackle. “If I didn’t find you so cute, I’d slug ya!”

Donnie groans to himself as he watches you step out of the booth, leaving him a bashful puddle of a turtle. He bursts out of the curtain, making you shriek in surprise and run away. Bobbing and weaving through the pews, Donnie gives chase as you put up your dukes, playfully inviting him to spar with you.

“Hey, no running in the church!” He shouts, tackling you to the ground.

“No! No, don’t tickle me! This is torture!”

Your manic roughhousing is promptly ended when Donnie’s eyes travel over to a pair of shoes standing before you two. He travels up, finding a rather perturbed-looking priest holding a douter. He must have been in the process of putting out the candles when he caught two strangers coming out of the confessional to candoodle on the floor.

His face was etched in horror as he pointed to Donnie’s face. “Is that a frog?”

Suddenly, your head whips around to look up. “Oh, shit.”

With all the color drained from his face, Donnie gingerly stands up, pulling you along with him. He is at an utter loss for words, and all he can do is stand there and sweat bullets.

Thinking on your feet, you grab Donnie’s hand and hightail it out of there before the priest can react again. You would hate to have to deal with the wrath of God right now.

Donnie, thankful for your decision to make a speedy exit, gladly lets you drag him behind you. Laughing a bit too loudly, he picks up the pace.

“Peace be with you!” He shouts behind him as you make your way to the main doors.

Right before Donnie can shut them closed, the priest responds out of habit. Perhaps he was just too shocked to do anything else.

“And with your spirit!”

With an ominous thud, the doors shut on their own again. They slam in your bewildered faces.

You wheeze, catching your breath. “I…I thought it was ‘and also with you!’”

Donnie shakes his head, a distant look in the eye. “It’s ‘and with your spirit’ now.”

All at once, your body tenses up and relaxes as you let out shaky laughter. Donnie’s shell knocks against the door as he laughs too, sliding slowly down.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs.

“How dare you use the Lord’s name in vain!” You gasp, reaching out to take his shoulder. “Have you learned nothing?”

Donnie’s laughter dies down a bit as he picks himself back up, leaning closer to you. “Yes, I learned that I like kissing you.”

His suggestive (and frankly cheesy) attempt at schmoozing you makes your laughter stop as well. You bring your fist up to lightly punch his face away.

“Dork,” you sigh.

“Jerk,” he smiles.

taglist: @saspas-corner

#tmnt2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 #tmnt x reader #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #sfw #requests

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years ago

Text

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirteen.

So, since I guessed a few of you might be anxiously awaiting the aftermath of the kiss, here you go! Although, you might yell at me by the time you reach the end...

Previous Chapters - One Two, Part One Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Words - 5,225

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"So, are we going to be filled in any time soon over why you've just dragged us out over this something stupid you allegedly did?" Sasha asks us as we pull away from the club. Thank fuck we managed to get a cab to stop right outside, as I needed to get away as soon as possible. If I hadn't left when I did, I'd still be kissing him now.

"I kissed Angel and he kissed me and I liked it and I like him and it's all just a big mess and it wasn't even supposed to be a real kiss it was meant to be to detract another vampire from taking me…" is as far as get in my gabbling for a moment.

"Edie, take a breath," Sasha interrupts with, going to say something else, before I then interrupt her in my usual form.

"…and making me her own which is what they can do if you aren't already the human of another vampire which is what Angel pretended I was after he obviously saw her looking at me and then he was just there in a second and I didn't even know he was in the club…” I continue, talking at a hundred miles an hour without even stopping to breathe.

"Edie, chill out and…"

"…but then, then he was just there behind me and told me to go along with everything he said and did and then he started kissing my neck and she asked if I was his and I said I was and then I turned around and kissed him but not a proper kiss…"

"Edie, woah!"

"…and then I said something to him and he said something back and I don't even remember what was said because then we kissed again and that time it was a proper kiss and I shouldn't have done it because it'll just complicate things more and he's a vampire and I mean Jesus fucking Christ I don't even like vampires and I…" is as far as I get before suddenly a jet of water hits me in the face, delivered by Miley from her bottle of water in the seat opposite me.

"Shush! For the love of god, stop yacking on and on and let someone else talk, you too fast talking, interrupting, vampire kissing, bad little girl!" she shouts at me, while I just sit here and drip. There's nothing else for it, within two seconds I, like my two girlfriends, am in absolute hysterics.

"So, you were saying something about kissing Angel?" Sasha then adds, causing further laughter before I at least settle down, drying my face on a tissue from my bag and feeling my heart lurch once more with the memory of kissing him. I really shouldn't have let myself do it, when I leaned in and kissed him like that the second time. Also, oh my god, the way he kisses… I wanted him right there and then on the floor, death be damned. I never usually think that forwardly sexually either. I can be quite dirty too when I want to be. But that kiss, woah… just, woah. I felt like I had storms rolling over my entire body. That’s what kissing Angel felt like, and god, how I wanted to remain there, let them sweep me away under the raging heat of their lightning strikes.

"I fucked up, ladies. I really did," I groan, resting my face in my hands, feeling Sasha's hand begin to rub my shoulder.

"Awww, don't be so hard on yourself! You slipped up and you kissed the guy you find attractive, at least you've got that out of your system now. Maybe now you have, you'll be able to move on from it?” she offers.

"I don't see that happening," I reply with a snort.

"Yeah, I'm sorry that's bullshit," she begins before we all laugh again. "I'm trying, though! I still hold on to the hope that if this doesn't happen again, you might be able to just be friends, even though it looks like it'll cause conflict for you both. I mean really, what the hell could be so bad that he can't date humans? He's obviously attracted to you and even told you he wants you.”

What could be so bad? Them choosing my fucking coffin. That’s what.

"I wish he didn't want me, and I wish I didn't want him," I sigh, squeezing Miley's hand when she reaches across to grasp my fingers.

"Tell you what, I have the hugest chocolate cake at home I bought earlier. I couldn't resist it while doing my grocery shopping. I demand you come back to my place and we'll get cosy in bed with a huge wedge of it and a big drink each. C'mon, doll, I wanna cheer you up." Sasha offers, which I have to say does sound tempting to my ears. I don't have to be anywhere until lunchtime when I'm going over to see Vic anyway, so agree.

After dropping Miley home (she'd be coming back with us, but she’s heading to California early tomorrow morning to visit her folks) we head to buy a bottle of Southern Comfort from the twenty-four-hour liquor store, and I grab another packet of cigarettes for us to share, since Sasha insists on paying for the bourbon. Five minutes later and we're walking through her front door.

"I wanna take a shower, I'm all sweaty and sticky. Want me to leave it on for you?" she asks, kicking her heels off with a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, good idea. I'm much the same!” I exclaim, beginning to unlace myself from my corset, which is all wet inside with perspiration. Ewww, that's really gross.

"Help yourself to bedtime clothes, you know where everything is." Leaving me to it, she heads off down the hall to the bathroom, while I walk over to her chest of drawers and fetch out some pyjamas. I choose the little black and grey Batman themed vest and shorts she has and finish taking off my clothes, rolling them up and putting them into one of the many good quality department store paper bags Sasha keeps in a small pile on the end of her bookshelf. I then go and put on one of her silky robes so I can walk down the hallway decently. You never know when her housemate Floyd is about to pop out. He's a harmless stoner, and he's home right now because the house stinks of weed (I cannot stand the stuff, it smells terrible to me) coupled with the muffled sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival playing, but you can imagine I don't want him to open his bedroom door to a naked me skulking past.

After Sasha emerges from the bathroom, I trot down there with my change of clothes, feeling instantly better when the water hits my skin and quickly getting myself all fresh and clean. I steal a bit of her shampoo and conditioner and wash all the hairspray out of my dirty hair (it's easier to tong into curls when it's a day dirty) before getting out and drying off. After dressing, I hang up the wet towel and head back to Sasha's bedroom, where I find a bourbon over ice and a huge chunk of chocolate cake waiting for me.

"Feeling better? Or at least are you a tiny bit less stressed now?" she asks, as I get into bed next to her, seeing a selection of DVD boxes laid out in front of me, Sasha gesturing. "Your choice with what we're watching."

"I'll go with Pulp Fiction, and yeah, I'm feeling a little better. I still can't believe I kissed him, though. I mean really, how much is that going to complicate things now? It would have been so much easier for him for one thing, knowing that I don't feel the same attraction he does, but I've gone and shot that all to shit. But Sasha, oh my god I've never been kissed like that before in my life! I've never felt such want for me from someone else through a kiss, and all I can say is that I now completely understand your reasons for dating them. Except for one thing, which is the fact other vampires don't do it for me. It's just him," I cry with frustration, taking a bite of my chocolate cake while she scrambles across the covers to put the DVD into the player.

"Are you still going to turn up for your tattoo tomorrow?" she asks, grabbing the remote and changing the TV over to AV to call up the title menu and then select play before getting comfy again.

"I'm in half minds whether to or not. I mean, I suppose I seemed a little over dramatic and immature, just running out like that after kissing him, and if I don't turn up tomorrow it's going to be weird between us, but then if I do, how uncomfortable will it be?" I ask, licking frosting off my thumb, Sasha twisting all her wild curls back with a handful of little clips

She looks contemplative before answering. "I think you should go. I agree it will be weird between you if you don't. Just go in there and talk about it first though, explain yourself. Acknowledge the fact you guys kissed, address the issue and then move on from it. That's being mature, and he'll see that, too.”

"That's exactly what I'm going to do, but oh, the nerves about seeing him again, and the embarrassment!" I cringe once more, rubbing my face with my hands before attacking my cake again.

"Shhh, you really shouldn't feel embarrassed. Anyway, let's just sit back and watch this movie and forget all about your little lip lock with the vampire, because we both know you're going to be flapping away about it internally in the time between now and when you get your tattoo done."

I agree that this is a very good idea, and with that relax and watch the movie, managing to keep all thoughts of Angel at bay and enjoying the cinematic masterpiece instead before we go to sleep. The next morning, I do feel a little better about it, a little more positive and realistic, too. Okay so it happened and there's nothing I can do about it now; I can’t rewind the time and take that kiss back. Instead, I just wait for my appointment tonight with nervous anticipation, half over seeing Angel again and half over the tattoo pain. They do hurt, no matter what anyone tells you. It isn't as bad as some imagine though, more like a cat with hot claws repeatedly scratching you.

I have a lovely afternoon with Vic, eating copious amounts of fried chicken, macaroni cheese and green beans with garlic (oh how this man can cook!) and then sit in the sun with him enjoying a grape Kool-Aid over ice while we chat. I don't tell him about Angel, because I know he'll only worry. He doesn't even know we've become friends, again because I don't want him to worry. I will tell him one day, though. Deciding that it'll cost me more to go home and then head back out again to After Dark for my 10pm appointment, instead go to the library come bookstore Miley works at to kill time, which is about a fifteen-block walk from the tattoo shop, and spend the three hour wait I have curled up on a couch there reading.

I'm continuing my voyage of learning and discovery with Socrates, reading a book about his famed Socratic Method, which basically in layman terms means he encouraged debate, for people with opposing viewpoints to discuss their differing opinions with questions and answers in defence of their own view. He was the founding father of debating, if you ask me. I'm very, very much enjoying learning about him. It is while I'm reading through a paragraph that explains his applied method to examining concepts that lack concrete definition that my cell beeps, pulling myself away from the words before me to see I have a text from Angel. Looking at the time on my phone, I realise two hours have passed since I first opened this book. Socrates can do that to a person.

'Will I still be seeing you in an hour from now?' is all the text reads. 'Yes, I'll be there right on time' I text back, receiving a reply to that almost immediately. You should see the speed he types a text out at, it's incredible. 'Are we okay?' his reply reads. I know just what he's referencing, of course. 'We're fine, but I want to talk to you about it before you start tattooing me later, clear the air a little' I type back. 'No problem, see you later, Edie.’

It's at this point that my heart begins to pound with nerves, and I take big, calming breaths to try and settle it down again. It doesn't work, though, and by the time I have to leave to walk the fifteen blocks it'll take me to get to the shop, my heart is positively somersaulting in my chest. I chain smoke the entire way there, lighting a total of four cigarettes all off the one I smoked before, until I'm turning the corner of the fifteenth block and the big double front tattoo shop comes into my line of vision.

"Just keep calm, don't flip out, just be nice and calm, Edie." I tell myself, wiping my sweaty palms on the little coral pink coloured sun dress I borrowed from Sasha this morning, pushing the door open and entering the shop. The first thing I notice is how clean and organised it is, with lots of decorative ornaments, tattoo related photography, and a big glass and wood constructed counter right to the front. The walls are painted in deep blue, with lots of pine wood and polished surfaces everywhere.

"Hi, you must be Edie! I'm Eric, nice to meet you. Angel is in his office, first door on the left through the back. He told me to send you in once you arrived," the dreadlocked vampire behind the counter tells me with a big smile. Man, he's cheerful for a vamp.

"Thanks, and it's nice to meet you too, Eric," I smile, touched at his politeness. He nods at me before turning back to the big laptop in front of him while I walk around the counter and towards the back of the shop, where there's a small hallway that leads to an exit right at the end. I knock the first door on the left, hearing Angel say 'come in' from the other side. My heart jumps just for hearing his voice.

"Hey," I say as I enter, hovering at the door before he gestures to the seat beside his.

"Hi, how are you this evening?" he asks in a completely normal tone, which is far from how I feel at the moment. I feel awkward and embarrassed as I sit down, Angel turning to face me. Oh, god. He’s so fucking gorgeous! All I want to do is kiss him again, wrap myself around him, pull out his cock and fu... no, Edie!

"I'm okay, but before we go any further, I want to clear the air over last night, like I said in my text. I'm sorry for acting on it, in my part at least. Yes, I really do find you attractive and I probably like you a little more than I should like someone who is only supposed to be a friend and nothing more, but we both know we can't go there. We need to just move on from it as friends and get over it," I tell him, watching him smile and nod.

"Just what I was thinking, so calm down and stop working yourself up into a state, baby," he replies fondly, reaching out and squeezing my hand. Those first words match mine, yet his actions... what he just did and then said seemed a little more affectionate than usual. He called me baby. Oh, hell! "So, are you excited to see what's here on the desk?" he then asks, pointing to a piece of paper he has design side down.

"Yes!" I exclaim, tattoo nerves and excitement in equal measures now taking over my emotions.

"I hope you like it. Turning over the sheet of blank paper, he reveals the design on the other side. I gasp as soon as I see it. It's absolutely beautiful. He's changed it a little, adding shaded swirls around the lilies that really give it tone and depth, and the stems are all shaped into filigree patterns. The flowers themselves look so real and life like, I feel like I can actually reach out to lift them from the page.

"It's perfect, I love it! You're so talented, thank you," I tell him, watching him nod and smile.

"It'll take me about ten minutes to do a final line drawing, so if you wouldn't mind lowering your dress so I can see what kind of space I have to work with, I'll need to get the drawing to flow with the shape of your back," he replies. I nod and then turn in my seat and undo the dress at the tie behind my neck, letting it slip down and then suddenly realising. Oh, the horror! I'm not wearing a bra! I didn't need one with the corset I had on last night, and having A cup tits I really don't need one with many items of clothing I wear, Sasha's dress here being one of them.

"I just realised I didn't put a bra on this morning. How am I going to be able to have this tattoo done without flashing my tits to the whole shop?" I ask in mildly perturbed tones. Angel laughs before he answers.

"Well, I wouldn't mind.”

"Angel," I say with warning.

"Sorry," he begins. "Wear a hoodie back to front, it's a zip up so it'll leave you covered at the front and your back bare so I can work. We keep them here for when women are having back pieces done and can't wear a bra, but I don't think we have any clean ones at the moment, so borrow mine. Okay, all done marking out your proportions, I'll see you out front when I've got this line drawing done. Go talk to Eric, he's about the friendliest vampire you're ever likely to meet." He tells me, while I do my dress up again and head out to do just that. I sit down on one of the big grey couches in the small waiting area by the front windows and look out to see a hell of a lot more people on the street than were there when I arrived.

"Fuel price rise protestors, again," Eric tells me as he comes and sits on the adjacent couch to me. "I don't know what their goal is, I really don't. Just as long as they don't start blowing us gas stations again. The smell is fucking awful," he then cringes, while pointing at the people all filing up the street in a large crowd.

"It also means I'll be busier than I like to be at work," I state, looking back from the window to him.

"Yeah, Angel told me you're a Punishment Enforcer. That's so badass!" he enthuses with a smile, before asking me more about my job. Damn, Angel was right, he really is very friendly. You could almost be fooled into thinking he was human.

"Was Angel the first vampire you ever punished?" he asks me about ten minutes into our chat.

"Yes he was, and I have to confess, I was terrified of him at first," I confide, watching Eric nod.

"We can be pretty intimidating to you humans when we put our minds to it. I have to say, I thought it a bit strange when he told me about who you were, that you're friends now. I can see what he means, though. He erm, he talks about you a lot, you know.” Cocking his head, his mouth tilts into a smile, not actually alluding to anything specific when he says he knows what Angel means. Just as I'm about to inquire further, the vampire himself appears and motions to me to come over.

"Okay, let's get you into this, and I won't look either," he says, actually shutting his eyes while he stands right in front of me with his black hoodie held out, so I can discreetly slip my dress down and cover myself without the whole shop looking. There's another vampire present, a shaven headed guy with a tattooed face over the other side working on someone, and Eric is pottering around, so it's not like there are many people here, but still, you understand my want for privacy.

He then applies the line drawing to my skin, pressing it down to make the ink transfer onto my back, asking me to check if I like the positioning of it in one of the big mirrors hanging up in the shop. I agree that I love where he's placed it, and after that I sit down in the chair again, leaning on the front of it and keeping myself sat up straight as Angel instructs while setting up his tattoo machine, which begins to buzz after a few moments.

"Right, keep breathing normally for me and just relax, it'll hurt more if you tense up, as I'm sure you remember from the first time around," he instructs me, just before I feel the needle hit my skin for the first time. Ouch!

"I do remember it, yes. Except this time, I'm going to have something that is worth going through the pain for," I reply.

"You most certainly are," he confirms, before he's silent and concentrating at the task in hand for a little while. When he does speak again after about half an hour, other than asking how I'm doing, he comes out with something I didn't expect him to.

"These scars the old tattoo covers, your mother did this to you, didn't she?" he asks, as I feel the tattoo needle moving quickly over my skin and his tissue filled free hand wiping ink away as he works.

"Yep," I chirp. "That's what getting kicked with stiletto heels ends up looking like." I add with a hint of dark laughter. I then feel the needle stop, and a cool set of lips kiss me between the shoulder blades. Instantly I know that's him telling me 'I'm sorry that happened to you' but not wanting to word it.

"Thank you," I whisper.

He pauses for a moment, before replying softly. "You're welcome." Feeling the needle hit my skin again, I look on ahead out of the shop window, my eyes filling with tears over three things. Number one, the memory of my mom, which actually makes me laugh a little too as I cannot believe I'm upset over her, number two, over Angel's little gesture and number three, because the needle just hit the side of my spine, and it's made my eyes water. Just then, I notice a box of tissues come into my line of vision from the side, turning my head to see Eric holding them out to me. I smile and take one, feeling a bit embarrassed that he noticed.

"Lower back and spine tattoos are a pisser, aren’t they? Made my eyes water, too," he tells me with a knowing smile, turning to lift the long, deep grey vest he has on to show me his back. He has a complete back piece of a phoenix rising from the ashes, with lots of Aztec style faces that look like they've been carved out of rock around it. It's incredible.

"Wow, that's beautiful. I take it you got it as a human then, since you say it made your eyes water?" I ask him while he adjusts his top again.

"Yeah, I was, since vampires can't have tattoos done. We heal too quicky, so it just pushes the ink out," he informs me, trying not to laugh as I wince and attempt not to shout a long line of expletives. When you're in a tattoo shop, you're under pressure not to look like a wimp and yell. In a vampire tattoo shop, the strain is even worse, even though I know Eric is friendly at least, and he's the only one really paying attention to me at the moment. The other vampire hasn't even looked away from the mermaid he's tattooing down the leg of a beautiful, Amazonian blonde woman.

"Ahhh, good to know," I nod, just as two guys enter the front door.

"Edie, if you'll please pardon me, but my client just showed up. Nice talking to you, though!" he excuses himself, and so very politely.

"What is it with that guy? You were right when you said he's friendly. I almost mistake him for a human, without wanting to offend him," I ask Angel quietly.

"He found his humanity again quite quickly after he turned a hundred, and we all think his upbeat demeanour comes from the fact he was a little drunk and high on speed when he was turned. It sometimes affects the process if someone is intoxicated in some form when they're made vampire," he replies.

I raise my eyebrows, liking that I’ve learned something new about the process of being turned. "How interesting." We return to silence, and I sit here fizzing internally with excitement over what my new tattoo is going to look like. It's a lot bigger than the old one for one thing, about five times the size, actually. Also, despite myself, I sit and ponder the change I've noticed in Angel. That kiss we shared seems to have awoken something within him that is more affectionate towards me, and I'm not sure if I like that or not.

Is he doing it just to be nice, or does he feel things towards me that are more than what friends feel, like I think I'm beginning to feel about him? I hope not, because if we actually develop true feelings of romantic fondness, what the hell are we going to do then? Okay, Edie, you need to stop thinking about this right now. As it turns out, my pondering comes to an end after a further ten minutes, my tattoo all finished. You have to love the speed a vampire tattooist works at. If a human had put this on me then it would have taken between one and two hours to complete. In forty-five minutes, mine is all finished.

"Okay, you're all done. I've cleaned it up and if you want me to, I'll prick my finger on a fang and heal it instantly for you. Unless you'd rather I didn't? It won't be much blood though, and I'll be respectful to whatever emotions I pick up from you," he offers, as I feel him cleaning the ink off my back. I hesitate a moment, before remembering how much new tattoos itch and throb.

"Yes, please. I hated the healing process of this last time and the amount it itched, so an instant heal would be appreciated." I then hear his fangs pop out and a moment after that, his finger begins to rub all across the area I've been tattooed on, stinging tremendously for a few moments before I feel absolutely nothing at all. He then cleans and dries the area again.

"There, all finished and ready for you to take a look.” I walk over to the nearest mirror and turn around, and when I see the reflection of my new tattoo, I am absolutely overwhelmed. It's simply the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and it's on my back. I'm so lucky, and will wear this art with much pride.

"I absolutely love it, Angel. Thank you, really you've done me such a massive favour here. Wow, I can't even see any of the original, or the scars!" I exclaim as he comes over to me and helps me get out of the hoodie and back into the dress without flashing anyone, closing his eyes once again. That's very cute behaviour for a vampire.

"You're welcome. Since you were my only appointment tonight, do you feel like going to get a post tattoo drink? I'll walk you home afterward, too.” Hell, why not? I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable and normal around him again, despite the little things on my mind. Going for a drink with him, even though I'll be the only one drinking might help improve that feeling of normality more so. What could it hurt?

"Sure, let's go," I reply, with a smile he returns.

"Just let me get my office locked up and I'll be right with you.” He moves quicker than my human eyes can detect, arriving back with me after I’ve said bye to Eric, who pauses to wave cheerfully, telling me he hopes to see me again soon.

"Considering all the number of protestors I saw heading up here before I started your tattoo, it's eerily quiet now," Angel comments as we begin walking up the street, with me pausing to light a cigarette.

"It is, you're right. I expected to see them chanting away up there at that gas station," I reply, pointing about two hundred yards ahead to where there's an all-night filling station located at the crossroads to Cove Street. "So, I've never asked you, and I’ve been meaning to. How long have you been tattooing for, and what made you get into it?"

"Thirty-five years this year, and as for what made me want to pursue it, I'm a very creative person and I've always been good at drawing, but Ursula really brought it out in me, my talent with pencils and ink. She's a skilled artist herself, her portraits look like photographs of people, they're so clear and precise. Anyway, she said to me one day that perhaps I should make a living off of my skills, even though we vampires technically need very little money to get by, with no food or drink to purchase, etc. So, I took her up on her idea and then applied that idea to tattooing," he explains.

"Well, I have to say you're absolutely excellent at it. I was looking at some of the photographs of your work on the walls, and I loved the back piece you did of the huge Buddha, it's beautiful." I compliment him.

He doesn't reply instantly and then suddenly stops and grabs me hard, turning me away from the gas station we're just about to pass by before suddenly my ears are filled with an almighty boom, both of us flung through the air at speed, the gas station blowing up into a huge ball of flames. Hitting the ground with a painful thud is the last thing I remember before my eyes close and I lose consciousness.

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lifeisaboutbeeltits · 3 years ago

Text

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ SOFT SCENARIO AT MIDNIGHT PART

2 * ੈ✩‧₊˚

✎ ALL CHARA BELONG TO: OBEY ME! ONE MASTER TO RULE THEM ALL

✎ Satan x ReaderAsMC, Asmodeus x ReaderAsMC, Beelzebub x ReaderAsMC, Belphegor x ReaderAsMC

♫ Use your earphone to get the best quality while reading ♫

✄----------------------------------------------------

Satan:

Today, Satan come to you with a book... And bet. He offer you a book and smilling "Look, MC. This book is really touching. How about you you try to read it?" You are not in the mood of reading but this rainy night will not be bad to reading though. So you agreed, "If you doesn't cry while read this, I will wear cat panjama for whole night" And now, somehow you feel hesistant about this bet. Satan will never make bet that have no advantage for him. But now you cant just step back. Your feeling is true, now here you are sobbing and sniffling even all you read is just half of the book at midnight. Satan, someone who watching you the whole time while reading now smile triumphantly. "Now... now... Stop crying, love. It's just a story" "But all of the hero sacrifice is mean nothing for the lady-" Satan patted your head and hug you to calm you down. "now, do as we have determined in the bet. 'Cause you are lose, you're the one that should wear the cat panja-" before he finished his sentences- you wear a puppy eyes. "Cant we just wear it together, dear~?" "But MC we-" "Please, Satan my dear beloved boyfriend~ Could we?" Oh. Satan give up, good job MC. You both now wear same panjama and finish the book together. Soon, when the clock hit midnight Satan told you to sleep. "Please one more page, dear" "MC, this is your 10th page after that "one more". Sleep Love" Satan pinching your cheeks. "Dont be a bad cat. Come, let me hug you" that half night ended with two cat sleeping peacefully.... Oh no its not. Satan maybe played your cat panjama tail and ear for some minute that night.....

Asmodeus:

"OH MY DIAVOLO, MC!!!" In a very busy day, Asmo screaming while he running into you. "Woah, chill. What's going on?" Asmo put his big smile and spoke "I just get a midnight party's invite! How if we go on a date this night?" "But I have some work to do tomorrow". "Awww, c'mon. It wont be long. Promise~" He says with cute voice. "Okay. But we wont be there until midnight. Just until the clock hit 12 am. Okay?" And at night, you pick your best clothes and go with him. This party is a different kind of party that Asmo used to go, its a elegant but informal type of party that usually you see at some kids sweet seventeen party. The party going fine, now you and drunk boyfriend have to go home. "C'mooon~ MC just one bottle-" "Geez. Lucifer will be mad. Go home. Now" "Awwww my cutie pie is angry, dont be mad deaaaaaaar~" You have no choice so you have to handle this, in any way. In the way back home, Asmo cant stop hug and praising you "MC! MC! Look the moon is shining so bright! Its so beautiful! Just like me!" "Yes, Asmo" "Owwwwh but the star must be you! The one that make moon shine even brighter is the star! Like you and meeeee" "Thanks, Asmo" "EHHHH THERE IS A CAT! Awwww they look so soft, just like your huuuuuug" "Oh is it?" "Yes! And look at you~ Awh I love you so bad that I need cuddle now!" "Asmo we are in the street-" "Gyuuuuuu~" Asmo cuddling you to the wall close to you and kissing your cheeks. You cant help but flustered. "Asmo! Someone will see us!" "Let them be! They must know we are such a most beautiful couple in 3 world!" "Okay! Get it! Now we go home!" You cant help to blush and rush to home. You put Asmo in his room and going to your room but Asmo hold your arm. "Dont leave meeeeeee" "Asmo I have to- " "We are not done cuddliiiiiiiiiiiing" "Asmo I have work-" "Hiks, why you should gonto work...? I know you are cutie pie that can make any plushie jealous for your cuteness, you loved by everyone. Please MC, just one night, you know how busy you are lately??? Look! Your smoothie skin now all dry! Now let my soft skin heal them out with cuddle, okie?" So yeah. Damn the work, you now cuddling together with Asmo that night.

Beelzebub:

Nothing beats midnight's snack! Its fun to have some snack with your beloved baby. You watch some mukbang video with Beel and hug each other together. "Oh look MC! In that video they eat something called takoyaki! They look tasty!" "Yeah! It's look so delicious, wanna try some when we got a change?" Beel nodding. "MC, look! They have something called curry" "Oh yes! This one is Thai Green Curry and the one beside them is chicken curry" Beel drooling. "I dont know... They all look same for me. Eatable" You laughing. Beel took so tissue and wipe your mouth "There is some mayonnaise" You blushing and look to other way. "Oh, okay... Thanks". You both watch them peacefully after that and you try to put your hand on top of Beel's arm. Beel gently put them in his hand an hold it. He smile happily as he rubbing your nose with his nose. You giggling, Beel kiss your cheeks and hand as you both hugging. After that, you try to take a chips but the only one left was taken by Beel. "You want this, MC?" "Can I?" "Yes, but take it by your mouth" Beel clamp the cips between his lips and you flustered "Ehh???" He put his chips down and start to talk "If you not gonna take it, Im gonna swallow it!" And put it to his mouth "NOOOOO, OKAY IM GONNA TAKE IT" You take that chips by your mouth. But Beel hold it. So you try to pull it and broke it to half. "Now we got half and half!" "Dont you gonna give them to me, Beel?" "Yeah, but.... Idea of sharing with you is make me exited...." Oh my, Beel is being accidentally (?) Bold today! You cant help but blushing mess. "Oh, the video is ended. Eh, why are your face is red MC? You have fever?" "I dunno... Maybe...." "Oh! We shouln't stay here. Let me carry you to bed." Beel put you on his bed carefully and kiss your forehead. He smiling so brightly. "Good night, MC. Sweet dream"

Belphegor:

Today is a rare day, because somehow today you have a fight with your dearest cow, Belphie. It turns out in very bad way. Belphie's stubbornness make you both sleep in different room now. "So, if he want to do it, just do! I dont need him to cuddle me to sleep, anyway!" Said someone that cant sleep until it hits midnight. You feel angry, why should Belphie sleep in peace when you have to struggling in bed to sleep? And suddenly, someone get out under your bed. "WHA?!?!!!!" It' Belphie. "Huh? MC, you dont sleep yet?" "Ye- yeah...." Belphie put you aside and make his place beside you. "Good, me too" "Wait, how can you get in here?!? Dont you sleep with Beel?!" "Yeah but.... I know you cant sleep with me so I come" "NO IM NOT" Belphie chukled, he pat your head. "Is that? I feel sad somehow. I come here cause i cant sleep without you. But I think you are angry so Im hiding under your bed. But I still need your warm to make me sleep" Belphie hug you tightly "It's hard to stay wake up even though you feel asleep, you know. So I wait until you sleep to hug you secretly, then you caught me red-handed" You can help but just touched by what Belphie said. "Im sorry, MC. Im wrong. I dont like it when we have to fight" "Its okay, Belphie. Im sorry to make you this sad". You both be quite before you offer him a hug "Wanna hug?" "Since you asking, I dont mind" He said. When Belphie immediatly fall asleep when he landed on your arm. That poor cow really suffering when he is fighting with you.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

Hope you enjoy this! Have a great day y'all! Let me know if you have any request, you can DM me anytime!

MORE PART:

Part 1 (Big brothers)

Part 3 (Side characters)

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills. warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened. “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch.

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive.

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still.

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #bts smut #mine

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sadclearance · 4 years ago

Text

right hand

pairing: katsuki bakugo x male!reader

summary: 5 things bakugo uses his right hand for + 1 thing bakugo uses his left hand for *wrote with “left hand” being in mind as a prequel, but can also be read as a standalone

category: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 1500

key:

s/t - skin tone

when they were in high school, midoriya izuku noticed that bakugo katsuki--his childhood friend and bully--always started fights with a right hook.

which was incredibly powerful, albeit predictable.

midoriya still remembers a specific sunny morning in their third year when this expected yet efficient move was used for something that wasn't exactly a fight. a second year had made the unbelievably stupid mistake of--

"watch it, dumbass!"

and immediately after bakugo caught y/n before he could fall on his ass, bakugo's right fist met with the second year's nose, successfully breaking it and scorching off the hairs of the kid's eyebrows.

at the time, nobody really thought anything of it. bakugo was protective of the few people that he considered--but would never outright admit--to be his friends, and y/n was one of them.

ii.

but it was at the christmas social event that was held for the third years to get a chance to make connections as well as have fun before the end of their student years that it became clear that it was much much more than just friends looking out for each other.

"what're you doing all alone?" kaminari asked as he leaned against the wall next to y/n.

"everyone's either flirting with pro heroes or kissing their asses, and i'm not really in the mood to do either."

"yeah, i can see that," kaminari snickered as mineta got slapped in the face by mount lady after both a series of terrible flirting and a horrendous attempt to literally kiss her ass.

"surprised you're not doing the same."

"well..." kaminari said as he pointed up. he was wearing a hat with a hanging mistletoe.

"how not unexpected," y/n laughed.

"you know the tradition," kaminari winked pointing at his lips.

"okay, okay. for the holiday spirit--"

and as y/n leaned in to give kaminari a peck, a strong right hand grabbed his chin, and his lips met with a pair that belonged to someone else.

kaminari was too shocked to be disappointed after being pushed away by none other than bakugo.

"fuck off, dunce face," bakugo said before crashing his lips against y/n's.

that was one hell of a way to find out that two of his best friends were dating.

iii.

bakugo's jealousy only got worse after graduation.

but to be fair, that was his own fault.

he may have chilled out since their time together as first years, but he was still a headstrong ambitious hero.

they didn't go public with their relationship because bakugo figured it would be distracting to his goal.

which was a decision that he immediately regretted when he remembered just how attractive y/n was--something that other people clearly appreciated as well.

y/n got gifts, compliments, and very suggestive comments wherever he went, which did nothing but fuel bakugo's anger and displeasure.

there was a solution to this problem, and it was to let it be known to the world that y/n was his and his only.

instead of doing what normal couples do and going to an interviewer or announcing their relationship on his social media accounts, bakugo decided to--

"so... y/n," the barista looked at the name she just wrote on the cup and then back to y/n. "are you seeing anybody?"

"what's taking so fucking long?" bakugo asked as he came up behind y/n, right hand harshly meeting y/n's left ass cheek.

"ow! what the hell? there's paparazzi right outside of the window," y/n scolded, gesturing toward the crowd of people with cameras on the other side of the glass wall.

bakugo's only response was to press a kiss against y/n's lips, smirking into it as he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye, fully aware of the fact that his hand was still on y/n's ass.

iv.

when he saw a building crumbling on top of y/n, he knew what he had to do.

he had faced a similar obstacle to this in his first year of high school, when he was up against round face--ochako. she had collected rubble that he had unknowingly provided and gathered it all up to the sky, later using it as a weapon by making it rain down on bakugo.

a building, however, had much more stone than a collection of collateral concrete that an individual collected over only a few minutes.

"y/n!" he shouted.

recreating the move from his first year, he raised his right hand and released a massive explosion--one much larger than the original maneuver.

he had succeeded for the most part. small bits of rubble rained down on them, but it was more like getting hit by hail than being buried by a boulder.

"bakugo!"

the mentioned man gritted his teeth and pressed the rough fingers of his left hand into his terribly cramped and pained right hand.

"you overdid it, you idiot!"

y/n rushed to get medical attention, and bakugo reluctantly let himself be pulled around.

he would've crudely yelled back that he didn't need help, but the worried look on y/n's face stopped him.

"i'm not gonna die, dumbass," bakugo rolled his eyes. the words were intended to come off harsher, and more like bakugo insulting a subordinate for not being able to see the obvious, but they came out closer to a soft reassurance instead.

"do that again, and i'll kill you myself," y/n glared. he looked more like an angry puppy.

"as if you could even land a hit on m--"

y/n's lips shut him up.

"even though that was the stupidest thing i've ever seen, thank you for saving me," y/n smiled, rubbing soft circles into bakugo's right hand.

"'stupidest thing you've ever seen'..." bakugo grumbled.

"what the fuck are you doing?"

it's been a habit to hold hands while doing almost anything since their time together at u.a.

hell, they used to hold hands throughout basically all of high school except during hero training.

subjects like math, language, history--they didn't require both hands. they only needed to write on a piece of paper, and they only needed their dominant hands for that.

so it comes as no surprise that that habit followed them to their pro hero years, pale left hand entwined with s/t right hand as they finish their paperwork.

bakugo's confusion was prompted by y/n's sudden fascination with his right hand.

"i rarely ever give this one attention," y/n shrugged.

"it's not its own being. like a pet or a person."

the look bakugo gave y/n told him that he was the biggest dumbass in history, but y/n ignored it in favor of responding, "still a part of you i rarely get a piece of."

"i hate the way you worded that, creep..."

"you're still blushing."

"in your fucking dreams!"

+i.

going to a nice place was somewhat out of the ordinary for the two of them.

bakugo was focused on being the top hero, and being the top hero meant sacrificing a lot of time.

y/n doesn't know what changed bakugo's mind so suddenly, but he wasn't about to reject a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"the breeze is so nice," y/n breathed in the fresh air of the beach.

he had ran up to the gorgeous ocean, cold water hitting his bare legs while he tried to convince bakugo to join him.

"not up to the challenge? that's rare," y/n teased, turning his back to him and going deeper into the sea.

"oh, shut your trap! i have a damn good reason."

"yeah, i'm sure you do. you sure you aren't just cold?"

"i said shut the fuck up!"

"okay, okay," y/n complied and entertained himself with the vibrant blue waves.

"i love you," came bakugo's voice abruptly.

"that's weird, you never say it first, especially not without any form or profan--" y/n turned around to give bakugo a ridiculous look, laughing as he did, only to stop almost immediately.

"fuck y--" bakugo had to stop his habitual reflex. "marry me... dumbass?"

bakugo with a nervous tone, one knee in the sand, struggling to not get up because of the annoying shifting and imbalance, and a ring in his hands was a priceless sight to see.

"yes! yes! yes!" y/n ran back to the dry sand.

bakugo grinned and accepted the kiss but broke it off sooner than he would've liked for the fear of dropping the ring and losing it to the waves.

he slid the ring on y/n's hand with a proud smile before y/n demanded to have the other ring.

"shit, calm down," bakugo laughed, but he couldn't help but feel happy that y/n was just as ecstatic.

although he was the one to say that, bakugo's left hand struggled to stay still as y/n put the ring on bakugo's ring finger.

"i love you," y/n pressed his lips against the trembling left hand once he was done.

with the rings safely on their hands, bakugo could freely go back to enjoying the treasure that was y/n's lips.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

a sequel exactly a month after

i like this format because i'm shit at transitions

i mean just look at the shift from iii to iv...

i had an idea for the right hand theme for a while now since the battle trials when izuku mentioned the right hook thing but i was like woah i could do it with this while writing left hand

#katsuki bakugo x male reader #x male reader #male reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #boku no hero academia #bnha x male reader #bnha #my hero academia #mlm #male reader insert #anime x male reader

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

Text

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans.

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer.

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts.

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work.

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it.

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times.

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie.

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully.

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air.

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed.

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something."

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically.

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed.

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line.

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?"

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.'

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless.

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe.

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…"

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down.

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls.

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water.

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added.

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso.

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut.

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor.

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her.

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone.

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully.

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call.

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless.

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it."

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours.

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'.

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears.

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'.

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?"

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk.

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal.

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless.

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look.

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork.

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw.

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us.

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly.

The girls and I collectively gasped.

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless…

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking.

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble."

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze.

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin.

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips.

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly.

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

#henry cavill #walter marshall #nomis #night hunter #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #Author rec: wolvesandhoundshowltogether #Collaborations

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heyitsmerose · 4 years ago

Text

Ateez Reaction to their s/o calling them when they’re in danger (hyung line)

TW: Sensitive content and mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2.5k

Mature Language*

Hongjoong: (peeping tom)

You and Hongjoong have been dating for a while now, with his busy schedule he tries to make as much time for you as possible, however you’re left home alone for majority of the day, especially during comeback time.

Today, your boyfriend and the rest of Ateez were recording their new song at were all at the KQ building, a good 30 minutes away from your apartment. He wouldn’t be back for another 2-3 hours so you decided to take a shower and treat yourself.

Halfway through your shower, you heard noises. Thinking it was just your brain being paranoid about being home alone you decided to leave it and continue showering. Another 5 minutes later you hear shuffling outside and the noise of clicking. This time, being a little more cautious you decided to stop the shower to better hear the noise. After a few seconds you heard the noise again and decided to go outside into your shared bedroom.

The second you did, you briefly caught a glimpse of someone standing outside your window with a camera, through the mirror in your room. Acting as if you hadn’t seen anything, you took your phone into the bathroom and locked it, trying to act as cool as you could. The second the door closed behind you, you dialed hongjoong.

[“Hongjoong, how much longer”] you whisper yelled voice cracking at the end

[“Woah, hey Y/n, what’s up?] you were greeted by your boyfriend’s, bandmate, Wooyoung’s voice

[Can you give the phone to Hongjoong please]

[Y/n, he’s recording right now, is everything alright]

[Please just give him the phone]

[Alright I’m putting it on speaker] Wooyoung said and you heard some shuffling in the background

[Hey hun, whats wrong, is everything alright] you were greeted by your boyfriend’s sweet voice.

[Hongjoong, I’m stuck in the bathroom with nothing but a towel and there’s someone outside our window taking pictures of me!] You whisper yelled, voice cracking at the end of you sentence, not because you were sad, but because you were scared and frustrated of the situation you were in.

You heard a few gasps from the rest of the members and a “what the fuck?”, presumably from Seonghwa.

[Okay, babe, stay where you are, we’ll come get you] You heard Hongjoong say, after which he hung up.

You tied up your hair and turned on the shower again to cover any noise you were making. Soon you heard shuffling outside and footsteps coming closer to the bathroom wall.

After a while the footsteps stopped and you heard banging on the bathroom wall from the outside of the house.

“Come out, honey, unless you want these pictures to be spread all over the internet” You heard a sinister voice call out from outside.

At this point you were done, you hid your face in your knees and sobbed, your life would be ruined if those photos got out.

“Leave me alone!” you yelled back

Soon you heard more shuffling outside and grunting. You then heard the familiar voice of one of your boyfriend’s bandmates, Mingi.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, creep!? You heard him yell.

Feeling a little more relieved you simply sat and waited until either the police or someone came to get you. In a few minutes, you heard light knocking on the door and you violently flinched. Slowly and carefully opening the door, you were engulfed by the sweet smell and warm embrace of your boyfriend Hongjoong, not caring whether he got wet. Tears of relief started pouring out your eyes and you collapsed into him.

“Hey, you’re okay now” He whispered to you, warm breath against your face. “I won’t ever let something like that happen ever again” you heard him whisper into your hair.

Seonghwa: (creep at night)

You and Seonghwa were a funny couple, showing love to eachother with your constant teasing and nicknames. Recently, he pranked you by banging on the window and knocking on the door when you were home alone. It was safe to say, you were quite spooked. You forgave him quickly and it was forgotten. Today, you had gone out to get some ramen from the supermarket and were on your way back home. It was quite late at night, and Seonghwa was at home sleeping. You wanted to surprise him with some ramen, and so here you were. It started off quite normally, you were used to going out late at night, loving the breeze and the silent streets.

About halfway home, you saw a hooded man walking across the street from you. It didn’t seem to out of the ordinary, except the fact that he was wearing all black and had a black mask and hat on. You started walking a little faster just to be safe. You noticed that the man started walking a little faster too, and so you decided to start jogging lightly, wanting to get home as soon as possible. The man, this time, crossed the street and was right behind you. Fearing for your life you decided to full on run as fast as you could. The man started chasing after you, and you had no option but to try and take abnormal turns while running to try to lose him. You soon ran around a corner into an alley and took the opportunity to call Seonghwa.

[Seonghwa!] You practically yelled, once he picked the phone up after a few rings

[Y/N, where on earth are you, it’s like 9pm, what are you doing] You heard his husky voice, suggesting he just got up

[Babe, I don’t know where I am but this dude is chasing after me and he keeps grunting and growling at me, I don’t know what to do, please help!]

[Babe, What?!] he yelled through the phone

[Send me your location and I’ll come pick you up]

[What if he has a knife, you cant come here] you tried reasoning

[I don’t care! now send me your location and don’t hang up!]

You were relieved that he was coming to get you, but were still scared that the man could find you any second. Keeping the phone next to you, decided to peek out the corner, to check if he was still there. Bad idea, the man saw your face and instantly ran to your direction. You couldn’t run anywhere as there was a dead end and just backed up against the wall.

“You thought you could run from me?” The man sneered at you.

“Please leave me alone” You tried to muster up the courage, only for your eyes to betray you with tears spilling out of them.

“No need to be scared” He creepily grinned at you and grabbed your wrist. You tried pulling away, but to no avail. At this point you were a crying mess.

“Please let me go” You sobbed, as he pinned you against the wall nearing your face. Only for the pressure to then completely vanish. You looked up and saw your boyfriend Seonghwa swing at the man all of a sudden. You gasped and held him back.

“That’s what you get, you sick, son of a bitch!” He yelled at the man, shoving him to the ground.

You spent the evening cuddled up in eachothers’ embrace, with you trying to calm him down

Yunho: (creep at the beach)

You and Yunho were at the beach with the rest of Ateez and their girlfriends. It was a nice way to get away from their busy lifestyles as idols and for everyone to just have a day off. You and San’s girlfriend were quite close and decided to go shell collecting together.

The rest of Ateez’s and Ateez girlfriends were taking pictures, building sand castles and having fun, while Yunho and his Mingi went to go get ice cream for everyone.

You were laughing and giggling with one another, collecting sea shells, and comparing one another’s like kids, until two tall men interrupted the both of you.

“Hey ladies! are you here at the beach to have a fun time?” One of them said. Being the bubbly and friendly person San’s girlfriend was, she decided to respond and make conversation, while you were a little more cautious.

“Yeah, we’re just collecting seashells” she smiled back at them

“with our boyfriends” you made sure to emphasise.

“Hey, it’s alright they’re just being nicee” San’s girlfriend whispered to you.

“You never know” you just shrugged back

“Anyways, do you girls know where we can pick up some hot ladies” At this point, San’s girlfriend looked a little uncomfortable too.

“There’s a bar up ahead, hope you find what youre looking for, it was nice talking to you” you promptly cut the conversation short and turned on your heel grabbing your friends arm.

“Hey, no, no wait up, we just want to talk” The other man grabbed your wrist.

“Let go of me” You sternly said, but he didn’t let go and just looked at his friend

“We need to go back now, let me go!” You yelled at him.

The one holding your arm looked at his friend again, and the other one stepped closer to san’s girlfriend taking her chin in his hands.

“Let go of me!” She tried stepping back, but he held her by her shoulder inching closer to her face.

“Let us go!” you yelled at both the men and shoved the one holding your friend to the ground.

He let go of her, and you told her to call someone for help. She took the opportunity and rang Yunho on the phone, telling him to hurry, as the men wouldn’t leave you alone and you were aggressively yelling at them. You kept struggling in his grip, while the other one tried getting to your friend. After a few minutes of struggling and yelling for help, the grip on your wrist loosened and you heard both the men grunting. Yunho had shoved the man holding you, to the ground and had kicked the other one too. You were still yelling profanities at them, so Yunho turned to you and put his hands on your shoulders, and kissed your forehead.

“What the hell is wrong with those creeps” You head San yell as he was comforting his girlfriend

“Well, one thing is for sure, they’ll think twice before even trying to approach someone again” Yunho replied while holding you close

Yeosang: (spiked drink)

You and Yeosang were total opposites yet were such a power couple. Yeosang helped the both of you stay grounded, while you were the more outgoing friendly type.

Hongjoong’s birthday was coming up and everyone decided to go to the nearby bar to just chill and have a nice time. Yeosang initially wanted to go and leave a little early, as he thought the bar would be too overwhelming for him, but after some convincing and your puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse. You decided to wear matching outfits with him wearing a full sleeved black button up and bleached skinny jeans, while you wore a black dress up till your knees. Yeosang blushed at the idea of matching, but blushed even more when he saw you in your dress.

After a quick makeout session and some giggles here and there, you both decided to leave to meet everyone at the bar. When you reached, you reached peak happiness. The bar had music so loud and there were so many people, you were excited to say the least. You dragged Yeosang into the bar and he bro-hugged Hongjoong while wishing him happy birthday. You on the other hand were already on the dance floor with Yunho and Mingi. You were yelling lyrics at eachother and breakdancing to no end. Yeosang glanced over at you and laughed at your childish antics.

When a slower song started to play, he knew it was his time to shine. You were already looking around for him in the crowd and when you finally saw him, a wide smile erupted on your face. You grabbed his shoulders and he grabbed your waist, as you fumbled a bit and were panting.

“Are you drunk?” He asked laughing a little.

“No, not yet, I’m just tired from dancing” You said looking back up at him.

“I think you mean jumping up and down like a mad lady” He laughed at you. You playfully rolled your eyes and smiled at him. You were definitely aware of how much your dancing affected him.

“Yeo, I’m going to go get a drink, I’ll be right back” You said a little breathless.

You went to the bar table and simply sat there for a while deciding on your drink, and taking a break from dancing for a bit. After a while, you saw a drink slide in your direction, and looked up to see a stranger slide the cocktail in your direction. You didn’t know her, but being the naïve person you were, you accepted it instantly, thanking her for the drink. You gulped down the drink in one go and as you did, tasted a weird bitter taste in your mouth. A few minutes after chugging the drink, you felt quite dizzy. You have been drunk a few times and knew how it felt, this was definitely a new feeling. You looked back up at the lady, while your eyes were drooping and having a hard time staying open. She moved her stool closer to you, as you just looked back at her uncomfortably.

As you felt more lightheaded, you decided to go the washroom and try to throw it up. You went into the women’s washroom and couldn’t even stand up. At this point, your legs felt so wobbly you couldn’t even stand up. You dialed your boyfriend amidst the loud music and he picked up on the first ring itself.

[Y/N, where are you, it’s been like 20 minutes, are you okay?] Yeosang said first.

[I don’t know, I feel lightheaded and weak, I think someone drugged my drink] you slurred your words.

[Wait What?! Where are you right now] He yelled over the phone

[In the women’s washroom]

[Okay wait there, I’m coming to get you]

[No, but you can’t-] And before you could respond, he hung up.

You heard the washroom door opening and you crawled into one of the stalls. Locking it behind you.

“Where are you, beautiful?” You heard a female voice whisper out.

You felt grossed out, this had never happened to you before. Before you could say anything back, you heard the washroom door slam open and someone stomp in. It was Yeosang, he was growling and aggressively asked the lady,

“Have you seen my girlfriend?”

“Oh, her, I don’t know, I’m looking for her too, but hands off she’s mine” The girl replied. At this point he was furious and pushed the girl to the wall, pinning her against it.

“Shut up!” He growled.

You unlocked the door to your stall and weakly called out to him. He promptly crouched down to your level and picked you up. It was safe to say, you were definitely not going to be let out of his sight for the rest of the night, and probably forever.

#ateez x reader #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #san #wooyoung #mingi #jongho #ateez sad #ateez whump #ateez angst #ateez danger #ateez ff #ateez fanfiction

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transfiguredtoadsworld · 2 years ago

Text

all the magic we gave off ch 2

Devi scrubbed her makeup off her face viciously. Every time she tried liquid liner she regretted it. It was too hard and always ended up ruining the rest of her makeup. She picked up her foundation to start again. “Kanna, you were doing exactly that last time I was in your room – an hour ago!” her mom complained from the door. Devi met her eyes in the mirror and made a face at her.

“Mom, can you just be chill? We don’t have to leave til 11 anyway.”

“Pati and I have to talk to you.” Devi’s eyes widened and she turned, makeup brush still in hand.

“What? Why? What did I do?”

“Kanna,” her mother said with that raised brow look. Devi smiled sheepishly. “Just come downstairs as soon as you’re ready.”

Devi shrugged, turning back to the mirror. “Sure.” As she hurried to do her makeup, she ran through the past few days. What could have happened? Did her mom know about Paxton? She’d been so careful! She finished her face and picked her phone up, flicking to the text thread with Eleanor and Fabiola.

Devi: my mom and grandma ‘have to talk to me’

Devi: if you never hear from me again tell Paxton that I expect him to mourn me for at least three months

Fab: fuck Devi what did you do

Devi: I don’t know!

Devi: my mom has been so weird recently

Devi: she asked if I was dating Ben last week

Devi: after Aneesa came over

Eleanor: no way

Eleanor: that’s crazy

Eleanor: how did she feel about it

Eleanor: like would she have been okay if you were dating a dork

Fab: yeah surely that’s better for her than you dating a sex god

Devi: hahaha no

Devi: no boy is acceptable

Devi: especially not some white boy who can’t handle his spice

Devi put her phone down. She didn’t need to piss her mom off anymore by having her phone in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her dress and left her room, trying to make her tread soft like Kamala’s.

Kamala, Pati and her mom were all sitting in the living room when Devi arrived. Devi smiled nervously. “Hello. Is this an intervention? I really haven’t been eating that much ice cream!”

Kamala laughed and Devi chuckled, sitting down in the armchair. “It’s not an intervention, Devi,” her mom said. “We just have something to tell you.”

“We’re moving back to India?” Devi guessed, horrified.

Nalini laughed, shaking her head. “Calm down, kanna. No, we’re not moving back to India. But it does have something to do with India.”

“Are we visiting? I could get on board with that,” Devi said, bobbing her head. “Ugh, as long as we don’t have to go and stay with Kamala’s parents.”

“Hey,” Kamala protested.

“Sorry, but your sisters suck.” Kamala opened her mouth to respond but Devi’s mom cut her off.

“This is actually about my sister,” Nalini said. Devi furrowed her brow. “Her son, your cousin, is moving over to America to complete his studies.”

“Ugh, is he moving in? We really don’t have any more room for you to move in Indian relatives, Mom.”

“Devi,” her mom sighed. Devi put her hands up in surrender. “No, he’s studying at Columbia.”

“Woah, that’s cool.”

“Arudra has asked me to go to New York to help him settle in.”

“What?” Devi had not been sure what to expect but this wasn’t it. “What does this have to do with me?”

Nalini shook her head. “Well, Pati is going to come with me. We’re going for a week.” Devi tried to tamper the growing excitement in her stomach. A week. A week with only Kamala for supervision. This was going to be immense. “Okay, young lady, get rid of the smile. Kamala is going to be here and I will be calling regularly.”

“Of course, Mom, of course. Can I get take out every day?”

“No, Kamala will cook.” Devi shrugged and looked at Kamala who gave her a tight smile. “We’re leaving next Sunday.”

“Cool. Pati, are you excited to go to New York?”

“Oh yes, kanna. You think I’m going to help Punarvasu? Oh no, I want to see the Statue of Liberty!” Devi grinned and laughed when she saw her mom’s disapproval.

“Come on, Mom, you must be excited to go to Times Square and see the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“I admit that I am slightly excited,” her mom said. “I have booked tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway.”

Devi’s jaw dropped. “What?” she demanded. “I begged you to get us tickets for Christmas!”

Nalini smiled and Devi scowled at her. “If it’s acceptable, we could go again.”

“Traitor.”

XXX

Devi lay in her bed that night, thinking of her plans for the week that her mom and grandma were away. This sort of thing just didn’t happen that often. She had to take full advantage. Her phone buzzed and then again. Devi picked it up.

Eleanor: Devi Devi

Eleanor: did u die

Devi snorted and tapped out her response.

Devi: don’t worry not dead

Devi: just scheming

Eleanor: ooh why are we scheming

Devi: my mom and grandma are going away

Devi: for

Devi: a

Devi: full

Devi: week

Fabiola: WHAT

Devi: yeah I mean kamala will still be here

Eleanor: does this mean you and Paxton are gonna go at it in your bed

Devi laughed out loud. She and Paxton were going well and she had been thinking of having sex with him. They had done – other things. The last few weeks had been a bit of an adventure in what felt good and what did not. Even so, having to be quiet so that Kamala didn’t hear them wasn’t really what Devi wanted for her first time.

Devi: nah I couldn’t do it with Kamala that close

Devi: still I mean he’ll probably stay here a few nights

Eleanor: have you told him yet

Devi: no still scheming for how to take advantage of this

Fabiola: I hope we’re gonna have a girls night

Fabiola: we’ve not had a games night in ages!

Fabiola: I can get brain cranker out

Devi: sounds good Fab

There was a gentle knock at the door, which pulled Devi from her phone. “Come in,” she called. The door opened to reveal Kamala. “Hey, Kamala.”

“Devi, I need to tell you something.”

Her cousin was whispering, which made Devi smirk a bit. “What’s up?”

“The week that pati and auntie aren’t here – I want to go and stay at Manish’s.”

Devi’s mouth parted. “What?”

Kamala perched on the edge of Devi’s bed. “I want to go to Manish’s.”

Devi was full-on smirking now. “Why? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I just don’t get to spend much time with him because Pati hates him and I can’t exactly bring him here.”

“Yeah, please don’t.”

“Do you mind? If you do, then I don’t have to go to his! I can stay.”

Devi shook her head. “No, go, Kamala. I can cope for a week on my own.”

“You sound a bit too happy. You aren’t going to throw a party, are you?” Devi briefly considered it and then shook her head.

“No. Way too risky. Mom would never trust me – or you – again. I probably will have Eleanor and Fab over.” Kamala smiled.

“That sounds nice.” Kamala smiled. “If you needed anything, you know you could call me.”

“Of course, of course,” Devi agreed. “But I’ll be fine! And you and Mr K should spend time together.”

“Thanks, Devi.” Kamala left then and Devi threw herself back on her bed, grinning.

Devi: guys

Devi: Kamala isn’t going to be here either!

Devi: house to myself

Eleanor: does this mean you’re gonna make love to Paxton

Devi: idk

Devi: the option is there though!

The option was there. Which meant that Devi needed to seriously consider things. Like whether she was ready to lose her virginity. Yes, she’d wanted to for like a year. She just didn’t want to have any regrets. Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see a gif from Eleanor of someone putting a hot dog in a bun. Devi laughed out loud.

XXX

Ben Gross was not a bad boyfriend. He actually thought he was a pretty good one. He bought Aneesa flowers. He always commented on her Instagram posts. He held her hand when they walked from one lesson to the next. All the boyfriend things. So, when he received this message from Aneesa, he was confused.

Aneesa: we need to talk

Nobody ever wanted to receive that message. It was the worst message a boyfriend could ever receive. Still, Ben took in a deep breath and pushed forward. He was a grown up. He could be mature about things.

Ben: sure

Ben: I’ve just parked up at school

Ben: where are u

Ben: I’ll come meet u

Was she going to break up with him? Ben analysed how that would make him feel. They’d been together about 2 months. He liked her. She made him laugh. But they were very different. There were times that she clearly didn’t get him and who he was. And he knew there were definitely times he didn’t get her. He didn’t want things to be awkward though.

He liked being friends with Aneesa’s friends way more than he’d liked being friends with Shira’s friends. It had even meant that he and Devi had sorted things out. He’d miss that a lot.

Ben swallowed and headed over to where Aneesa said she was, in the library. His stomach was in knots now. He’d thought himself into nerves. He pushed his shoulders back. That was his dad’s advice for how to handle bad situations. Shoulders back, eyes ahead.

He found Aneesa easily, in the science section. “What are you doing?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

“Just finished the lab report for today.” Ben nearly choked. The lab report that had been set two weeks ago? How could she only be finishing that now? This was just one of the times that he didn’t get her. But he set that aside. Different people often worked well together, complimented each other. The only problem with that was that Ben didn’t want to be any less intense, not if he wanted to get into Columbia.

“Are you okay? What did you want to talk about?”

Aneesa let out a long breath and Ben braced himself. “I think we should spend more time together.”

Ben froze and then unfroze, looking at her. “What?”

Aneesa sighed, pushing her paper into her rucksack. “I just – we spend a lot of time together with Eleanor and Fab and Devi but not much time together just you and me. I know my parents make that difficult but – I just think we should have a bit more alone time, a few more dates.”

Ben opened his mouth and nodded slowly. “Yeah – yeah, of course! Of course, we should. You’re so right. We’ve not spent enough time together lately.” Aneesa let out another breath and grinned, taking Ben’s hand.

“I’m glad you agree.”

“Of course,” he said and he leaned across to kiss her. “Oh, and hey, if I pass my driving test on Friday, we can maybe take a day trip out somewhere? Like the beach?”

“Sounds amazing. Now, let’s go to homeroom before you ruin your punctuality record.” Ben laughed slightly and held her hand as they left the library.

XXX

“So, big news,” Devi said as she entered the lunch room, sitting down next to Paxton. He immediately turned from his friends to her. Devi ignored the dirty looks she received from Zoe Maytag. Seriously, fuck that girl. “I was in a rush this morning or I’d have told you then.”

“And we wouldn’t want to ruin that punctuality record, would we?” Paxton teased, shuffling up close to her.

Devi shook her head vehemently. “Are you kidding? I need to beat Ben Gross this year. I’m on for 100%. If I can just get him to be late one day, then I’ll get the stupid award and I can shove it in his face.”

Paxton laughed. “You’re so intense, Devi.” He placed a kiss on her neck and Devi kissed his lips. “What’s your big news?”

“My mom, my grandma and my cousin are going away for a week!”

“What?” Paxton said with wide eyes. “Devi, that’s-”

“I know! I found out yesterday. Well, my mom thinks Kamala is staying with me but she’s going to Mr K’s.” Devi cringed and Paxton shared the cringe with her. “Anyway, I was thinking you could come over. I could make Indian food?”

Paxton grinned. “Okay, as long as you promise not to blow my head off with the spice.”

“You’re half Japanese! I thought you’d be able to be able to shot wasabi in your sleep!”

Paxton shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “My mom doesn’t love Japanese food, so I only have it when I see my ojichan.”

“Wow, disappointing,” Devi said, laughing. “But you’ll come over? I’ll make you some bland, white-people Indian food?”

“Of course, I’ll come over, Devi. That sounds good.”

“I agree,” Devi said, lowering her voice in what she hoped was a sultry manner. Paxton laughed at her and kissed her lightly, so Devi took it as a win. She dug her lunch out of her bag and stole one of Paxton’s chips.

XXX

“He’s here, he’s here,” Aneesa hissed. Devi blinked and looked up from her pizza. Fabiola and Eleanor also looked at Aneesa quizzically.

“Why are we this excited about Ben being here?” Fabiola asked slowly.

“He’s always here.”

“Okay, he made me promise not to tell you, but he had his driving test in his free today.”

“What?” Devi said, way too loudly. “What? Oh my gosh, did he fail?” she asked with glee.

“I don’t know!” Aneesa said, panicking and looking around. “Devi, please don’t-”

Devi ignored Aneesa. “Hey, Gross, did you fail?” she shouted as he approached. She heard Fabiola’s hiss to stop and ignored her. Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “I did hear they don’t like it when people stop at stop signs for 45 minutes.”

“Ha ha,” Ben said sarcastically as he got close enough. “Suck on this, Vishwakumar.”

And he through his license at her. Devi wrinkled her nose. “Fuck sake, Gross, can you just fail for once in your life?”

“And let you have a chance of getting your licence before me? When hell freezes over, Devi.”

“Ha! At least your picture is frigged.”

Ben snatched the license back from her. “Give me that.” Devi laughed and settled into her seat again. He showed it to Aneesa who grinned and kissed him.

“Congrats, babe! Now, we can take that trip to the beach!”

Devi snorted. “Only if you want to take ten hours to get there.”

“Hey, I got you to Malibu in time, didn’t I?” Ben said, raised brows at her, even though his arms were around Aneesa.

Devi squirmed at the mention of Malibu. Eleanor and Fabiola made cringing faces at her and Devi knew she needed to change the subject. Before she could, Aneesa spoke up, “We should go and celebrate tonight!”

“That’s a great idea,” Devi jumped in. “We should all go for ice cream?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ben agreed. Devi grinned at Eleanor and Fabiola until they agreed too. “Guess you need the ice cream to feel better about me passing before you, hey, Devi?”

Devi scowled at him. “Being born later than you was not something I could control.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses.”

“So, Devi,” Aneesa said, dragging Devi’s eyes over to her. “Have you decided what you’re going to do next week?”

“What’s next week?” Ben asked, stealing a few of Eleanor’s fries. Eleanor batted his hands away with a glare and Devi snorted.

“My mom and grandma are going to New York and Kamala is staying at Mr K’s for the week.”

“Woah, look at you with an empty house. I can’t believe your mom trusts you like that!”

“What can I say? I’m a grown up now.”

“Did you decide if you were going to have Paxton over?” Aneesa asked, cocking her head. Devi swallowed and grabbed her sandwich.

“I’m gonna go get some lunch,” Ben said, nodding at the canteen. Devi gave him a flat smile.

“Erm, I am going to have him over, definitely,” Devi said. “Who knows if we’ll have sex, though. I’ve not decided yet.” Devi started eating her sandwich so that the conversation would change. Rather than listen to Eleanor and Aneesa’s discussion of Eleanor’s play, she thought about the next week. All alone in her house. She was going to make mac and cheese and stay up late watching shitty teen soaps on the telly. She was going to use her phone during dinner.

Eventually, they headed to English. Eleanor pulled Devi into the bathroom on the way. “Devi, what the hell?” Eleanor said with a hiss. Devi frowned at her.

“What’s up? Do you not need to pee? Because I don’t wanna be late for English.”

“Aneesa clearly wanted to celebrate with Ben alone and you invited all of us!”

Devi blinked. “What?”

“Aneesa and Ben are dating, Devi. You need to stop inserting yourself into their relationship.”

“Eleanor,” Devi said in horror. “I just wanted to celebrate with Ben! He doesn’t get celebrated very often.” Eleanor shook her head. “No, honestly, his parents are dicks. They won’t even have known he had his test today. It’ll be nice for him, for us all to be there! And he agreed!”

“Because he always agrees with what you say. How do you think that makes Aneesa feel?”

Devi swallowed her immediate, defensive response. “Okay, Eleanor, I get it. After tonight, I’ll be more careful, okay? I do think I’m right about tonight, though. Maybe not for Aneesa’s sake, but for Ben’s.”

Eleanor sighed. “Okay, fine, but promise me you’ll be more careful after this?”

“I promise,” Devi said emphatically. “Oh, and I could invite Paxton tonight. That would make Aneesa feel better, right?” Eleanor nodded.

“Good plan.” Devi shrugged and they left the bathroom, Devi feeling slightly uncomfortable.

XXX

That afternoon, Devi dragged Paxton over to her locker. He was laughing at her. “What is up with you?”

“Do you wanna come for ice cream tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Paxton said, blinking at her. “You could’ve asked me that in front of Eleanor and Fabiola, you know. It’s not like you were propositioning me.” Devi snorted. “Unless you were?” he said in a lower voice, waggling his brows at her. Devi grinned at him and shook her head.

“No, it’s – well, basically, we’re all going, to celebrate Ben passing his driving test.”

“Oh,” Paxton said, his voice barely hiding his shock. Devi gave him a nervous smile. “Yeah, okay, that’s cool. Is Trent coming too, with Eleanor?” Devi nodded.

“I guess so.”

“Sick. My girl, my best friend, my girl’s friends, my girl’s ex. What more could I want?” Devi shoved his arm and he laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Don’t worry, that’s cool. We going now? I can drive us?”

“Meeting there at half-four. Aneesa has soccer practice first.”

“Amazing. You wanna go and sit in the sun near there for a bit first?”

“Sounds perfect,” Devi agreed.

They drove over with Eleanor and Trent, who amused Devi and Paxton by making out pretty much the entire time they were waiting for Fabiola, Aneesa and Ben to arrive. Paxton took his shirt off to tan, which Devi enjoyed greatly, even as she completed the homework they’d received in chemistry that day.

“Oh, hey,” Paxton said, dragging Devi’s eyes from her chem lab report to where Ben, Aneesa and Fabiola were approaching.

“Hey,” Aneesa said. Devi packed away her things as they got closer. “Devi, were you doing work on a Friday night? God, do you ever have a break?”

“Never,” Devi said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Ben’s already beaten me at getting his license. He can’t beat me for valedictorian.” Ben rolled his eyes at her and she gave him a sarcastic smirk. “Come on, Paxton, put your shirt on and let’s get ice cream.” He grinned at her, waggling his brows as he jumped up and put his tight t-shirt back on.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they followed Eleanor and Fabiola in. “You get us a table?” Paxton said. “I’ll get you cookie dough?” Devi nodded and he walked away.

“With little rainbow sprinkles,” she called after him. He turned, laughing at her and nodded.

Devi found a long table by the window and Aneesa and Eleanor came to join her. “Wow, are we like anti-feminists? Are all our boyfriends buying us ice cream?” Devi asked with a laugh. Aneesa cringed.

“I prefer to think of it as using our resources in the best way,” Aneesa said and Devi had to laugh.

“Yeah, I mean, Ben has so much money. Using as much of it as possible is the only thing you can really do in that situation.” Aneesa laughed and Paxton came to join them with Devi’s ice cream.

“Is that enough rainbow sprinkles?” he asked.

“No,” Devi said with a dramatic sigh. “It will never be enough.” Then, she frowned at him. “Did you get plain chocolate?”

“Yeah,” Paxton said, cheersing his ice cream cup against hers. “What’s wrong with that?” Trent arrived with his and Eleanor’s ice creams, which were rainbow-coloured, sprinkle-covered, sugar-filled nightmares of ice creams.

“Everything is wrong with plain ice cream here.” Ben finally joined them, with Fabiola. Even Fabiola’s ice cream was vanilla with chocolate curls and brownie pieces. Ben’s was nearly as good as Devi’s – honeycomb with caramel sauce and popcorn pieces.

“Look at this,” Devi said, showing the table Paxton’s ice cream. “I think I might be dating a sociopath.” Paxton rolled his eyes.

“I’m very happy with my chocolate ice cream, Devi.” Then, he frowned and reached across to have some of her ice cream. Devi gasped loudly.

“Oh, Paxton, you’ve just made a big error,” Eleanor said with a sad voice. Devi glared viciously at her boyfriend.

“She’ll forgive me.”

“Hmph, we’ll see,” Devi said, looking pointedly away from him, until he wrapped his hand around her waist and tickled her into submission. Devi met Aneesa’s eyes and noticed that her smile had grown.

XXX

The house was empty by midday on Sunday. Devi stretched out on the sofa and posted a Snapchat story. She put the TV on at a much higher volume than her grandma allowed and she ate ice cream for lunch. She did her homework at the kitchen table with music blasting and she didn’t change out of her pyjamas all day. It was wonderful. For dinner, she used some of the money her mom left her to get a big ass pizza, which she ate all of, and then she watched classic period drama Sense and Sensibility on her own in the living room.

By the time she was going to bed, it was dark out and she realised she was going to have less than eight hours for the first time in a good long while. This was freedom.

She walked upstairs, not caring about her heavy tread. Kamala wasn’t here for her to compare herself to. At the top of the stairs, Devi sent Kamala a message, like she’d promised, to say that she was doing well. She replied straight away.

Kamala: are you not in bed yet?!

Devi: let me have some freedom!

Kamala: Manish will tell me if you’re not to your usual standard tomorrow

Devi: tell him that’s a gross misuse of power

Devi brushed her teeth outside of the bathroom, walking up and down the landing. She glanced down the staircase and saw how dark it was. Shadows moved and she told herself it was the trees outside. She spat her toothpaste out and went into her room, debating whether or not she wanted the door closed. She left it open and changed into her pyjamas, little shorts and a tank top. It was too hot for anything else. The Californian summer was coming, just a few weeks until summer break.

Devi glanced at the door again. Had it moved? She was sure she’d left it at a 45-degree angle. But it was at a 50-degree angle now. She ignored the squirming in her stomach and crawled into bed. In the morning, she wouldn’t have to make her bed. Her mom wasn’t there to shout at her. Devi grinned and then swore as she realised she’d left her phone in the bathroom.

She stood up and tiptoed to the bathroom, her heart lurching with fear when she looked down at the bottom of the stairs. There was no one in the house. She was alone. She was safe because she was alone.

She remembered the first time she’d been left alone in the house for an evening. Her mom and dad had gone out on the moped. By the time they’d returned, she’d camped out in the living room in fear – and when they’d come in, she’d burst out crying with relief. She could still remember what her dad said: “Devi, my darling, you are always safe in this house”.

Nodding to herself, she picked up her phone and returned to her room, purposefully not looked at the bottom of the stairs. She got back into bed, replied to Fabiola about the history work, and then wondered if she’d locked the door.

“Fuck,” she swore, getting out of bed again.

Downstairs was dark. Her phone torch illuminated the way, until she got to the light switch which she hurried to turn on. She tried the door and was horrified when it opened. With a shuddering gasp, she slammed it closed and locked it, leaning heavily against it, her breath coming fast and uneven.

She was 16-years-old. Could she really be this scared of being in the house alone? She really had not considered this when she was celebrating the empty house.

“Okay, Devi, you’re fine,” she whispered to herself, turning the light off and putting her torch back on. The stairs creaked beneath her feet. “Nobody is in the house.”

But they could’ve got in. Because she hadn’t locked the door. Devi bit her lip, entered her room and slammed the door, pushing her desk chair up against it. Her window was open! Devi rushed to shut it, locking it tightly. By the time she was in bed, the thought of going to sleep was abhorrent. She could hear her uncle Aravind telling them how unsecure the house was and her stomach was clenching with fear. She couldn’t close her eyes.

She grabbed her phone. She could watch something, a comedy, to help her sleep. It was 00:58 and Devi was suddenly conscious that tomorrow was Monday and she had to do well in her lessons tomorrow. She had to do well every day, to be valedictorian. She bet Ben Gross was already asleep. Blinking away her fears, she opened up Superstore on Netflix and played the first episode.

Her stomach did not settle. She tried and tried to ignore the creaks of the house, the sound of the trees moving outside. But she couldn’t. It was loud on her phone and her earphones were downstairs. What if there was someone in the house and they could hear her phone? Then they might come and murder her. Devi swallowed her fears – she really tried. She flicked on her lamp. She could probably sleep with a bit of light.

Tears filled her eyes and she swiped off Superstore. This was useless. She opened up her messaging app, debating who to message and then ignored anything telling her not to.

Devi: u up

Her stomach rebelled against her, tears slipping from her eyes.

Ben: yeah

Ben: what’s up

Devi let out a breath, her stomach relaxing somewhat.

Devi: my house is empty

Devi: it’s just me

Devi reread the messages and then thought that he might think she was propositioning him. She shook her head.

Devi: I’m a bit freaked out

Devi: I feel like there might be someone here

Ben: I’m sure there’s not

Devi: I know that rationally

There was a pause in messaging as Ben’s three dots came up to show he was typing and then left and then came back. Devi’s leg shook beneath her duvet.

Ben: do you want me to come and get you

Ben: my parents are away

Ben: you could stay in the guest room again

Devi let out a sigh of relief.

Devi: yes please

Ben: coming

Devi pressed the bottoms of her palms against her eyes. Ben was coming. He wouldn’t be long. Devi grabbed her school rucksack and turned the big light on in her room, packing clothes and makeup for school tomorrow. It was only when she heard the car pull up that she thought of how Paxton might see this. Her stomach clenched but she couldn’t turn Ben away now. Not when he’d come to see her in the middle of the night, because she was afraid of creaks and shadows.

Grabbing her toothbrush, Devi raced down the stairs, shoving her shoes on at the door and picking up her keys. She opened the front door and closed it behind her, locking it securely. Ben’s car was there. Devi smiled and tucked her keys away. She opened the door to his car and said, “Hi.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Thank you for this,” she murmured as she put her seatbelt on. “I feel like a bit of an idiot.”

Ben shrugged. “Don’t worry. When I was first at home on my own, I literally refused to turn off the lights.” Devi laughed and he smiled at her, reversing back out of her drive. “And let’s be honest, you just wanna stay in my baller house.”

“You got me. Just want an excuse to watch TV in the bath.” Her stomach settled at the familiar banter between them.

#benvi #fan fic #nhie #ben x devi #benvi besties era #never have i ever #ben gross #benjamin gross #devi vishwakumar

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