#and I read this in in the tone of ass man door hand hook car door vasco or something and burst out laughing

[canisalbus]

ASS MAN VASCO?????

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[ladyantiheroine]

Right Here, Right Now

Summary: In an alleyway behind The Stacked Deck, a bat and a cat share a kiss and a little more. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Selina Kyle x Bruce Wayne

Warnings: Explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 1.9k words

Tags: Femdom, quickies, hook-up, rough sex, vaginal sex, riding, rewrite, pining, dom/sub undertones.

Author's Note: Rewrote the alley scene from season one, episode two with more kissing and smut.

“Are we alone?” Selina asked.

Bruce’s heart was pounding in his ribs and his face was flushed with sweat. His adrenaline was still running high. After finishing one hell of a bar brawl and fleeing from the police out the back door, he and Selina were finally alone crouched behind a car in the adjacent alley. Bruce heard the voices and sirens of the GCPD fade into the distance. Based on Selina’s ragged breathing and whispery voice, she was still heated from the fight too. ”Yes,” Bruce said. He shifted around to face her. “We’re alone.” Selina was crunched down in the corner between the wall and the car. She shifted up onto her knees to look Bruce at eye-level. They were both out of breath and Bruce could feel an electric buzz in the air between them. Selina lifted a hand and brushed her fingers against Bruce’s cheek. Her touch left an electric flicker and for a moment he couldn’t tell if his heart was racing because of the bar brawl or because of her. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the fight, or the stress from the past few days, or Selina’s intoxicating perfume filling his nose, but all of sudden the world outside the alley felt distant. The neon lights cast a glow over them and Selina’s eyes seemed to glow. Not glowing like stars. Glowing like the glint of a knife. Meanwhile, Selina’s eyes were drinking him in. This was the physically closest she’d been to him and she could see so much of him. Including the way he pursed him lips, including the way his breath hitched a little, including of how soft and tender his skin looked when it wasn’t hiding under hard armor. There was something about violence that excited Selina. Not so much recieving it, but inflicting it. Feeling her fists on a man’s jaw, her claws slicing across skin, smelling blood in the air. She loved the rush it gave her, and that fight in the bar had stirred inside more than any other before. Not since that night on the city hall roof… She looked at Bruce. He did an impressive job back in there, but now that they were alone, his eyes were blue and round like a prey animal’s and he was looking at her in a way that made her mouth water. The adrenaline of everything that had just happened crackled between them and Bruce’s heavy breathing tickled her ears. Selina moved her hand away, leaving a cold print on Bruce’s face. His eyes lingered on her mouth, her full crimson lips quirked into that bemused smirk.

Bruce’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned closer to kiss her, and Selina stopped his mouth with her finger. He opened his eyes. “Whatcha doing, Bruce?” she said. Her tone was teasing. “Feeing a little flustered?” Bruce paused and his face flushed. “Sorry,” he said. “I just—” Suddenly, Selina pushed him down so his ass was on the ground and his back was against the car. Bruce winced at the sudden impact. “Selina, what are you—?” “Shush.” Selina crawled on top of him, straddling his lap and pinning him to the ground. Before Bruce could respond, she took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his. In an instant, any resistance in Bruce’s body evaporated. He melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist. Selina moaned into the kiss and pressed her hands against his shoulders, pinning him to the back of the car. Bruce’s rationality peeped through the warm haze in his brain and he realized what was happening. He was pinned in an alley, letting Gotham’s notorious cat burglar feel him up. A voice in his head told him to put an end to this, but then Selina began smacking kisses along his neck and his thoughts turned to soup. He sat helplessly there while she ran her hands under his shirt. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Selina whispered as she lifted his shirt to expose his sculpted torso. Her sharp black nails trailed along his abdomen, sending goosebumps up and down Bruce’s body. “Selina,” Bruce muttered. His head fell back against the car, his eyes fluttering shut. “Are we gonna…” “Shhh.” Selina removed her hands to strip off her brown leather jacket.  Bruce opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at her. This close, he could see the outline of the black bra under her white t-shirt. His blood rushed hot through his body and he felt a hard bulge between his thighs. “Selina,” Bruce said. “What if someone…” She tugged down his pants to expose the bulge in his boxers, and the small stain of precome leaking through the fabric. Bruce’s face turned beat red and he shivered at the cold breeze on his exposed body. Selina watched him writhe in pleasure. For a moment, she forgot it was Batman underneath her. The man before her seemed nothing like the stoic machine she understood the Dark Knight to be. This man was stuttering and blushing and turning red over just a little touch. Having this kind of power over a man like Bruce Wayne, the billionaire prince of Gotham and its most notorious vigilante, sent an intoxicating rush through her. Without the armor, he was as breakable as any man. She wanted to hear him moan, watch him squirm. She wanted to turn the feared Caped Crusader into a blubbering, begging mess.

She wanted him, and she wanted him right now. Selina sat up and peeled down her jeans and underwear at once, tossing them aside and revealing her wet, hungry pussy. She gripped his shoulders, her sharp nails digging deep into his shoulders and making him wince, then shoved herself down his cock. “FUCK!” Bruce gasped. He hardly had time to register what was happening before Selina began quickly, roughly riding his cock. His hands instinctively clasped her hips, steadying her on top of him. God, she felt incredible. It was so unexpected that it was like getting the wind out of him. Forget fists and claws, Selina could knock him out with just her pussy alone. Bruce’s cock filled Selina up perfectly, like his body was made for her. She tipped her head back and parted her lips as she fucked Bruce Wayne deeper into the asphalt. Bruce bit his lips so hard he thought he’d start bleeding. He tried to suppress his moans, hyperaware that all it took was one person stepping out the bar’s backdoor or turning the corner to see the Wayne CEO getting his brains fucked out in a rat-infested alleyway. The tabloids would have a field day. Bruce clenched his teeth but that didn’t stop a whimper from escaping his throat. Selina saw his resistance. She gripped the hair on the back of his head and whispered in his ear.

“Purr for me, kitten,” she whispered. She bite her teeth into his neck and started sucking his flesh, and that sent Bruce off. He gasped at her wet teeth bruising his skin and his whimpers turned to moans. All the while Selina began bucking her hips faster, fucking him with a viciousness he’d never experienced before. “Selina, please,” he begged. He clasped an arm around her lower back and gripped her hip. “Please…fuck, fuck…” Selina giggled in his ear. “Oh, I love it when you say please,” she said. She bit hard into his shoulder. Her long nails dug into his shoulders. “Keep going.” “Please, Selina…please…” “Say my name, sweetheart.” “Selina…Selina…” A tidal wave rose up in both of them. Selina's breath quicked and so did her body as she fucked him faster and faster, harder and harder, gripping him hard enough to leave bruises. Bruce was delirious, laying limp as a ragdoll as Selina’s pussy tightened around his cock, her wetness dripping down his length. “Bruce,” Selina gasped. Bruce threw his head back and hissed through his teeth as a climax ripped through both of them. His hips bucked up to meet her, pushing his cock deeper inside of her and his knuckles turned white gripping her hips. It hit them both like a glass bottle shattered against a wall. Selina's moans grew louder and Bruce’s whimpers turned to cries. The world became a blurry haze of heat and sweat and primal, growling desperation as the bat and the cat fucked themselves into the ground. Selina kept bucking her hips even once every drop was gone. She was dripping with sweat and her breath was ragged. Meanwhile, Bruce felt like the soul had been sucked out of his body. He was warm and trembling and limp as a ragdoll. His neck and shoulder ached from where she’d clawed and bit and gripped him, but the pain didn’t bother him because it was all Catwoman’s doing. He rolled his eyes to Selina. For a moment, they held each other’s gaze as they caught their breath. Selina’s eyes were a strange, unreadable mix of desire and something…uncharacteristically soft. Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Selina’s pussy was still clenching his cock and he didn’t want her to pull him out. He wanted to stay there beneath her, to never remember why he was there in the first place. In the neon light of the alley, Selina’s sweat was like pink diamonds on her cheek. She released a satisfied sigh and wiped a hand over her wet, ink-like hair.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said. She said it so casually like she hadn’t just ravished him in a back alleyway. Bruce watched Selina rise to her feet and step back into her jeans. Meanwhile, he remained motionless on the ground, his used cock hanging out, feeling slightly…used. After a few moments, Bruce gathered his senses and stood up. He adjusted his pants, and Selina began making her way to the other end of the alley.

“I’ll take the rooftops,” she said. “You take the alley.” Before she could disappear again, Bruce stopped her. ”Wait,” he said. Selina paused, then turned around. She gave him an expectant look and for a moment Bruce fumbled to find the words in his mouth. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, dozens of questions sitting on his tongue. Are you going to be okay? Will I see you again? Did that mean to you what it meant to me? Instead, Bruce asked the less flustering question. “Yes or no,” he said. “Will you help me stop Penguin?” Selina gave him an impish look. “I’m going to say maybe,” she said. “But only because he’s trying to kill me.” “Pretty good reason to say yes.” Selina looked at Bruce for a long moment, a bemused look on her face. Bruce returned to gesture, but something crackled in the air. He knew Selina could look out for herself, but he still needed to know she’d be okay. Something last between them, and Selina turned to walk away. ”You shouldn’t trust me, you know,” she said. With that, Selina approached the brick wall of the next door building and, using one of Bruce’s grabbing guns, gracefully zipped up to the top. Bruce watched her go and disappear into the dark like the alley cat she was. ”I know,” he said softly. “So why do I?”

[multifandom-worlds]

Reassurance

Genre: Angst/fluff/smut

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 1115

Warnings: vagina intercourse, oral, feelings of inadequacy

Authors Note: A gift for the always wonderful @little-butterfly-writes

Lucien had been away at a conference in the United States for a month, and Layla was missing him terribly. She missed how his fingers fit perfectly between hers and his tongue felt as it trailed her skin, flushed with excitement. He was due back any moment, and Layla was ready. She was nervous, sure. Nervous that, while he was away, her boyfriend found another woman, someone who was pretty, more mentally stable, less of a failure. She stood at the terminal, her heart racing as she watched strangers exiting, waiting for her black-haired, violet-eyed boyfriend. Finally, at long last, he was there, although he did not seem to see her yet. Layla ran up to him, stopping just before him, not wanting to startle him. When she came into his line of sight, the world was bright and beautiful again. 

Pulling her close, Lucien wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her feet a few inches off the ground. Layla yelps slightly before she wraps her arms around his neck in turn. He places her carefully back on the ground before mentioning, “I missed you, Lay.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss, lingering on her lips. She kisses him back, but Lucien can detect some hesitancy in her. He ignored the feeling he got in favour of going home and spending time with his girlfriend. 

He slips his fingers between hers, carefully squeezing, before leading them to the baggage claim area to retrieve his bags. He could feel Layla slowing down, her fingers not laced as tightly with his as they usually are. He paid it no mind again, assuming it was just anxiety about being surrounded by so many people, so he grabbed his baggage, and they led out towards the car. Much to Lucien’s surprise, Layla does not ease up when they get into the car. No alarm bells yet, but he noticed that she was more closed off.

The ride home was quiet, with only the sounds of the cars on the road breaking the tense silence in the air. Before arriving home, Layla asked the question about him; “Did you meet anyone when you were away?.” Her tone was soft but not accusatory. 

Lucien shakes his head, pulling his girlfriend towards him by her hips. “Layla, I could never replace you. There is not a man or a woman in this world that could do for me the things you do.” Layla smiled, but that shimmer in her eyes was not there. She didn’t believe him. Wordlessly, Lucien lets go of her hips before taking her hand and reading her through the halls of their home into the main bedroom, carefully pushing her down onto the bed. 

A look of confusion crosses her features as she looks up at him from her position on the bed, watching as he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it unceremoniously on the floor by the bedroom door. Lucien kneels on the bed, one knee between her legs, the other beside her, hands on either side of her head. “Since you don’t believe me, butterfly, I intend to show you.

Leaning down, Lucien captures her lips in a passionate kiss, shifting his weight onto his knees so he can trail fingers down her body before slipping under the hem of her shirt, sliding it up her body. He leaves delicate kisses along her exposed stomach. She sits up, allowing Lucien to remove her shirt before he skillfully unclasps her bra, tossing both garments onto the floor beside the clothes hamper. A chuckle escapes his lips as he cups her breast, squeezing softly and rubbing his thumb across her nipple. Layla’s body reacts to his touch with a shiver; he has not been this gentle with her in a little while. 

Lucien lays her back on the bed before hooking his fingers under the waistband of her pants and panties, tugging at them. She got the hint and lifted her hips enough for him to slip the garments over her ass and down her thighs before removing them and throwing them with the other pile of discarded clothing. 

Lucien had intended to show his girlfriend how much she meant to him, but Layla had other thoughts. She sits up, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, exposing his torso to the warm air of the bedroom. Following her lead, he shrugs off the shirt before standing up from the bed, allowing his girlfriend's skillful fingers to free him from the confines of his pants. He steps out of them before kneeling back on the bed again, this time further back.

With a hand on her stomach, pushing her down, Layla gets comfortable on the bed, her eyes never leaving Lucien as he pushes her legs apart a little further. Lucien plants kisses along her inner thighs, working his way up to her core. 

With the hand still on her stomach, Lucien delicately licks her clit, making Layla gasp slightly. He licks her clit again, feeling himself getting harder. He tries to ignore the throbbing and focuses on his girlfriend's pleasure. 

Lucien continues, alternating between using his tongue and using his fingers. He kissed her stomach and hips using his fingers until Layla was whimpering, begging for more, and his erection ached for some relief.

Sitting back on his knees, Lucien repositioned himself between her legs, lining himself up at her core before pushing in, a low groan falling from his lips. He captures her lips again, stealing the air and silencing any sounds she could make.

He trails his fingers up her arm, lacing their fingers together as he thrusts into her, slow and controlled. Their eyes meet, realization slowly returning to her eyes. With his free hand, Lucien tucks her hair behind her ear to get a better view of his love’s face, holding himself up with the hand he holds Layla with. 

"You are the only one I want in my life, Layla. You're the only one I want in my bed, the only one I want to be intimate with." Lucien smiles, rocking his hips against hers. "You were the only thing on my mind the whole time I was gone, and I needed nothing more than to come home to you." Layla’s eyes well with tears listening to him talk; she squeezes his hand, trying to dispel the emotions she was feeling. To her, this was not the time or place to cry, but Lucien did not care. 

Lucien continues, determined to prove she is the only one for him. “Layla, I need you to remember that I love you. Only you and no one else comes before you.”

[cherienymphe]

Fallen Angels (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Bucky, mentions of kidnapping, NON-CON, trusting reader

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

This takes place in the same universe as Protect & Serve. You don’t need to read Protect & Serve to follow along as this takes place before Protect & Serve

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary:  Bucky thinks you’re the sweetest thing to grace this earth, and he’ll do the unspeakable to get what he wants

~

You heaved another sigh as you made your way up the steps to the police station. It was warm out, a soft breeze ruffling the bottom of your dress. The sun beat down on your face, making you squint, the heat only adding to your annoyance. You didn’t even know why you got annoyed anymore. It wasn’t as if this was exactly new for you.

“Y/N!”

You threw the woman behind the counter a small strained smile, shoulders sagging as you approached her.

“Hi, Jane,” you sadly said. “I’m here for my sister.”

There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, nodding while returning your strained smile.

“Of course.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, turning away as she disappeared into the back. You swallowed, briefly reaching up to rub your forehead and resisted the urge to a sigh again. You couldn’t believe that you had to leave work yet again to come and deal with your sister’s neverending drama. 

You turned as soon as you heard a door open, watching a familiar face bring another familiar face into the room, his large frame making her look small. Officer Barnes greeted you with his usual smile while you returned it with a sheepish one. How many times had you watched him carry her through that door? How many times had you felt sheer embarrassment at her behavior? 

“Where was she?” you quietly asked.

“Stumbling through the park,” he said with a shrug.

“Thank you,” you breathed, genuinely meaning it. “I can never thank you enough.”

How many times had you thanked him?

“Hey,” your sister slurred, eyes bleary as she struggled in his firm hold, legs trembling. “Don’t talk about me...like I’m not here.”

“Sorry,” you murmured, and she rolled her eyes, head falling back.

You reached for her, but Officer Barnes shook his head.

“Let me help her to your car. It’s the least I can do,” he said.

You started to argue, but decided against it and swallowed your words. You led him outside, the mumblings of your drunk sister reaching your ears. He was gentle as he placed her into the passenger seat, and you frowned at her as she laid her head on the dashboard.

“Really, thank you,” you said, looking to him as soon as he shut the door.

He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against your car as he gazed at you with a look you couldn’t place. He did that a lot.

“I can’t keep letting her off the hook forever, you know,” he told you, making your heart drop.

You knew that. You had known it for a while, probably since the second time. You didn’t know why Officer Barnes, and the station by extension, always let your sister off easy every time she was found drunk somewhere, but you were grateful nonetheless. You couldn’t keep taking advantage of his generosity though.

“How is Officer Wilson?” you asked, changing the subject.

The blue-eyed man smirked at the mention of his roommate and colleague.

“Still as much of a pain in my ass as ever,” he answered, making you chuckle.

“You know, as much as you insult him, I think you’d really miss him if something ever happened to him,” you said with a grin.

Officer Barnes joined you, eventually nodding with a smile of his own.

“You’re probably right. He’s still a pain though,” he agreed, walking with you to your side of the car.

You paused when you placed your hand on the door, swallowing with your eyes to the ground before looking to him again. You really couldn’t appreciate him enough, but like he said, you knew he couldn’t continue to let your sister off of the hook.

“I really hope this will be the last time,” you whispered.

Officer Barnes frowned, dark brows lowering as he heaved a sigh, sounding as tired as you felt.

“Did you ever think…”

He paused, shifting on his feet before continuing.

“Maybe a few days in jail will do her some good. I mean, what kind of lesson can she learn if you keep bailing her out?”

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t considered it, but you sadly shook your head.

“I can’t do that to her. She’s family,” you quietly replied.

He studied you for a bit before nodding, running his eyes over you with a soft hum.

“No, of course not. You’re too sweet for that,” he said.

You blinked, unsure of how to respond to that, so you simply thanked him again and said your goodbyes. He didn’t move as you got in and drove off, his stare piercing your rearview mirror until he was nothing but a speck in the distance.

When you finally arrived home, your sister was barely able to stand at all. You got her as far as the living room before your arms gave out, depositing her onto the couch. After placing a small trash can beside her, you went into the kitchen to make some coffee and put together a little hangover concoction that you’d been using for years.

As she slept off the alcohol, you couldn’t help but to think about Officer Barnes’ words. Not just him admitting that this couldn’t go on forever, something you already knew, but his proposal to let your sister spend a few nights in jail. You had thought about it. That wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t think it’d do any good. It wasn’t that simple. Your sister needed professional help.

You wondered if you could get Officer Barnes or even Officer Wilson to help you out with that. You didn’t think that your sister would react too kindly to an intervention. You suddenly shook your head, telling yourself that you needed to stop relying on them so much. Especially Officer Barnes. 

You’d known them both for years, ever since they moved to the city during your 3rd year of college. They’d been mere officers in training then. You remembered even having a slight crush on Officer Wilson, but that had died the minute they found your sister the first time, wandering around the city drunk and belligerent. You had been so embarrassed, telling yourself that no one in their right mind would get mixed up with a family like yours, no matter how small it was.

Officer Barnes was always the one to find her. He never judged her nor did he ever hint that he was even thinking any kind of negative thoughts. He’d always been much nicer than either of you deserved, and you mentally reminded yourself to bake him some cookies. You suspected that his love for your food was the main reason he let your sister off the hook time and time again.

It was hours later, when you were taking the fresh cookies out of the oven, when you heard your sister stir. You turned just as she stumbled into the kitchen, struggling to open her eyes. You grabbed her a cup.

“I made coffee. It’s not as fresh as I would like it to be but…”

You trailed off, handing it to her. Her eyes were wide open now, and she gratefully took it, gulping it down.

“Thank you,” she breathed as soon as she was done.

The silence was awkward, and the smell of fresh cookies wafted through the air. It was an odd picture.

“So,” you started, playing with your fingers. “What was it this time?”

Your sister heaved a sigh, setting her mug down as she leaned against the counter.

“I got fired today.”

Your face fell, shoulders dropping as sympathy tore through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, meaning it.

“Don’t be. It beats sleeping with my decrepit former boss,” she scoffed.

Your eyes widened as you registered the implication behind her words, and your heart clenched. You stepped towards her, reaching out.

“Are you serious? T, we should tell someone. File a lawsuit or something-.”

Her laugh cut you off, and you frowned at her.

“Have you met the guy? He has more money than either of us could ever dream of. It’d be a waste of time,” she sneered.

You shook your head.

“You don’t know that. You’re probably not the only woman he’s done this to. I’m sure with the right lawyer-.”

“This is the real world, Y/N? Where those in power take advantage of the rest of us as they see fit,” she told you, making your frown deepen.

Your bit your lip, not exactly agreeing with her but opting to swallow your words. You watched as she neared the pan of cooling cookies and ran her eyes over them with a light scoff.

“Who is this for? Officer Barnes?” she mockingly wondered, a look of disgust on her face.

“Yes, actually,” you said, ignoring her tone and reaching to get a plate. “Do you want one?”

“You should really stay away from him, you know.”

“Well, that’s kind of hard to do when you keep getting arrested for public intoxication,” you threw back.

You immediately cringed, turning to face her, surprised to find not an offended look on her face, but merely a shocked one. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head at you.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… He’s a nice man, T. A good man. Much more than we deserve. Anyone else would have put you before a judge a long time ago.”

She chuckled, reaching past you to grab a cookie.

“Gee, I wonder why that is.”

Her tone confused you, and she shook her head at you.

“The guy’s a creep. No amount of friendly smiles can hide that,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

You frowned at her words before shaking your head and sliding the cookies onto a plate.

A week later, you were thankful that your sister seemed to be doing better. Normally she needed a month to really get herself together to at least try and get back on her feet again, but her uncharacteristic behavior both shocked you and made you proud. However, when your doorbell rang at almost 1 in the morning, you realized that you had spoken too soon.

“Oh my God,” you breathed.

You had swung the door open and come face to face with none other than Officer Barnes and your sister, the latter almost keeled over. She would have been face first into the ground if it wasn’t for the man holding her up.

“Her room is this way,” you told him as soon as you let him in.

She mumbled a few times as he followed your lead, quieting altogether when he placed her on her bed. He made sure that she was on her side, and you heaved a tired sigh as he followed you down the hall.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-.”

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your shoulder and stopping you.

You turned to face him, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, much quieter this time.

Officer Barnes just stared at you, brows drawn together as he rubbed your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.

“It’s okay-.”

“No, it’s not. I really...I really thought this time would be different. I did.”

“I know you did-.”

“...and there are actual criminals out there who need to be dealt with but instead you’re here dealing with me and my sister again.”

You placed your hands over your face as your voice cracked, and your shoulders trembled as you held in all of the emotions threatening to spill.

“God, all of the cookies in the world can’t make up for what we put you through,” you sighed.

He pulled your hands away from your face, and you looked away from him.

“Hey…”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he let go of one of your hands to place it under your chin. He made you look at him, and his blue eyes searched your face as he smiled at you.

“This is my job. I’m not going out of my way to do anything here, okay? It’s okay.”

You reluctantly nodded before your eyes found the floor again.

“She needs help,” you said, finally admitting it outloud. “Professional help. The 12 steps kind.”

There was a brief silence before the dark-haired man spoke.

“I can help with that, get her into some meetings,” he offered.

“Would you? I...I didn’t want to ask because you do so much for us already, but…”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him. He rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head at you with a slight frown.

“Now, Y/N… How long have I known you and your sister? I’m always happy to help you two out in any way I can. You know that,” he told you, lips quirking up just a tad. 

“More than we deserve,” you murmured

He looked as if he was going to say something else, but you continued before he could. 

“Do you want something to drink before you go? I usually make her some coffee,” you offered.

His smile widened as he looked at you, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t name.

“I’d love to.” 

His steps were light as he followed you into the kitchen, and you wondered if his stealth was just part of the job or if he was always that way. He didn’t say much as you moved throughout the kitchen, opting instead to watch you as you turned on the coffee pot.

“I think I have some leftovers from last night,” you told him.

“I’d love some.”

As you made to fix him some food to take with him, you found yourself humming a bit, a habit. So immersed in your tasks, you’d almost forgotten that he was there until he spoke again.

“You’re going to make some man a very happy husband one day.”

You threw him a smile over your shoulder.

“You sound like my dad,” you complained, thinking of the man who you hadn’t seen in years.

“A harmless compliment, I promise. You’re just so sweet...and you can cook better than any chef in the city,” he elaborated.

“Well, we’ll see what the future holds,” was all you said as you handed him a container of food.

You moved to get his coffee for him when he spoke again.

“Any man would be crazy not to snatch you up and beg you to have his children,” he said with a chuckle.

You joined him, shrugging as you handed him a to-go cup full of steaming coffee.

“That would be nice, but I can’t have kids,” you said.

Officer Barnes’ smile fell, eyes widening just a bit as he blinked. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve dropped his coffee.

“What?” he murmured.

You shrugged again, throwing him a small smile.

“I can’t have kids.”

He looked like he didn’t know what to say, and he frowned, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you told him, placing your hand on his arm. “I’m not bothered by it anymore. I used to be, but… I figured that some people just aren’t meant to have children, and that’s ok.”

You turned away from him, moving to clean up your mess. You could still feel his eyes on you.

“It’s why I work at a nursery. I love it, and sometimes I think to myself that if I had children of my own, I wouldn’t have time for the dozens I see every day.”

You leaned your back against the counter, facing him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I like to believe that everything happens for a reason.”

Officer Barnes smirked at you, a light chuckle escaping him, face pinched as if he was thinking hard about what you said, dark hair curling around his ear.

“That’s a nice way of looking at things.”

You shrugged, leading him to the door.

“My sister doesn’t exactly share my sentiments, so it’s nice to hear that you do,” you confessed, opening the door for him. “Thank you again, Officer Barnes.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you.

“How many times must I tell you?”

“Sorry, sorry,” you said with a groan. “Bucky. It’s a force of habit.”

“Well, I’m kindly asking you to kick it,” he lightly replied as he stepped outside.

“Drive safe.”

He paused, blinking at you before nodding.

“I will, and I’ll talk to someone about getting your sister into some meetings.”

You waved him off, a slight frown overtaking as you heard your sister retching from down the hall. With a sigh, you closed the door and turned to go tend to her like you always did.

The weeks that followed were better, the best you’d had in a long time. True to his word, Bucky got information on some meetings, and surprisingly, your sister agreed that she needed more help than you alone could provide. You drove her to, and picked her up, from every one. You’d always felt like the older sister despite the opposite being true, but it was glaring now more than ever.

Her behavior was improving, and you constantly prayed that it would last. You knew that recovery wasn’t always a smooth journey, plenty of people relapsing, but that didn’t seem to be the case for your sister. She had gotten another job, was keeping up with her meetings, and hadn’t even looked at a bottle of alcohol in weeks. She was just her normal cynical self...until she wasn’t.

You tapped your finger on the steering wheel, watching as the last person left the building. You waited a few moments, hoping that she would be the last person, but she never came out. Hurriedly stepping out of your car, you made your way to someone who hadn’t driven off yet. You could tell that you had startled them by knocking on their window, and you apologized the minute they cracked it. You asked them if your sister was still inside, and your heart sank at their answer.

“She never showed up.”

Your lips parted, brows furrowing as you registered their words. Unsure of how to respond, you simply took a step back, allowing them to drive off. It was late in the evening, and the parking lot was now empty, and you felt helpless as you looked around, as if waiting for your sister to appear.

She had never showed up?

You had dropped her off yourself. You had seen her walk into the building with your own eyes. You wondered if something had happened, something to send her over the edge again, and with a heavy heart, you got back into your car and headed home. You waited up most of the night, expecting a call from the police station or even a knock on your door, but your phone never rang and your door was undisturbed. You hadn’t meant to, but before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

Your notifications were just as empty when you woke up the next morning, and your stomach churned as you sat there alone. You had the most awful feeling in your gut, and despite the fact that this should seem like a normal act for your sister, you couldn’t help but feeling like it wasn’t.

Later that day, you drove to the police station. For someone who swore not to rely on Bucky as much anymore, you were doing a poor job of it. He was happy to see you, and that made you feel even worse. Bucky was always happy to help you, and you constantly felt like you were taking advantage of it.

Your worry must have been written on your face though because his smile soon fell. He walked you outside of the station, and you quietly followed.

“It’s my sister,” you immediately said. “She’s missing.”

He eyed you for a bit, eyes narrowing just a tad as he thought. He folded his arms over his chest.

“Are you sure?”

You knew what he wasn’t saying. Your sister wasn’t exactly the most reliable, and absences weren’t unusual for her. He was right to be skeptical.

“They said she never showed up at her meeting. I dropped her off myself, and even if she wasn’t really going, she’d at least pretend like she was. She wouldn’t want me to worry and...and that’s all I seem to be doing,” you murmured.

Bucky placed his hands on your shoulders, massaging them as he attempted to console you.

“Alright. Have you called her?”

“She doesn’t have a cell phone,” you told him. “She can never keep a job long enough to.”

He nodded at that.

“I know that for adults, they need to be missing for at least 48 hours to be treated as a missing persons case. I know that, but…”

You trailed off, and Bucky understood, nodding.

“Hey?”

Your eyes met his, and he sent you a small smile.

“I’ll do what I can. I’m going to find her, alright?”

You gave a shaky nod. He told you to go home and let him handle everything. And thats what you did. The house felt too quiet, and uncomfortable, you started cleaning and cooking. In the midst of all of that, you called your father to tell him what was going on, but it was in vain. As usual, he didn’t answer his phone, and you found yourself wondering if your family was cursed. Your father was too indifferent, your sister too cynical, and you were too nice.

Despite the fact that you felt like you shouldn’t, you went to work. Was it to distract yourself? Oh definitely, but what else were you supposed to do? You didn’t worry until the 4th day had passed and you’d heard nothing from Bucky. He said that he would handle everything, and you trusted him, but you were tempted to go back to the station. However, a knock came on your door one night before you could.

You knew it was him, and you didn’t hesitate to open the door.

“Well?” you anxiously asked, letting him inside.

Bucky’s face was solemn, and you feared the worst, but he simply shook his head.

“Nothing,” he sadly told you.

Your frown deepened, and you frantically blinked away tears.

“Hey,” he quietly said. ‘Hey, none of that, doll.”

You shook your head, stepping back.

“I just feel like this is my fault. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe I pushed her too soon. Maybe-.”

“...and maybe it was all her and had nothing to do with you,” he said, lips pressed together as he looked at you.

You slowly nodded at what he said, not quite believing it.

“Maybe,” you murmured, turning away. “I feel like I should be out there, doing something.”

You heard Bucky approach you, and he tsk’d. 

“No, absolutely not. This city is dangerous, and I can’t look for her properly if I’m worrying about you, now can I?” he said, hands resting on your shoulders.

You turned your head to look at him, taking in his soft expression, his baby blues resting on you. You reluctantly shook your head.

“No, I can’t. So the best thing for you to do is sit tight while I try to find your sister.”

“It’s hard. The house...it’s so quiet now. It’s so obvious that she isn’t here, and I hate it,” you whispered. “I’ve never lived alone.”

He hummed, glancing around.

“I don’t have to leave right away. My shift is over, and I could stick around for as long as you want,” he offered, making your heart soar.

“You would do that? I don’t want you to feel obligated to keep me company.”

He grinned at you.

“Never. You just kick me out whenever you get tired of me,” he told you.

You didn’t kick him out. Bucky slept on your couch that night and the night after that and the night after that. His presence was welcoming, comforting, and you found yourself growing used to it. Having known Bucky for years, it was easy to get into a familiar groove with him. He started occupying your couch more and more, and feeling so bad about inconveniencing him all because you couldn’t handle being alone, you usually cooked him breakfast before he had to go to work. 

When he wasn’t at work looking for your sister, he was at home with you. Sometimes he cooked with you, or sometimes he fixed something that had been broken for months. He made missing your sister a little easier. You had faith that he would find her, that he’d bring her through that door, drunk and on the verge of sleep like before.

Still, sometimes, you couldn’t help the dark thoughts that assaulted your mind. What if she never came through that door? What if he never found her? Or worse… What if he did? What if he found her in a ditch somewhere, body maimed and ruined from being dead for so long? Despite how much you tried to remain positive, despite how much you wanted to believe otherwise, what if she was gone? 

This was what woke you up out of your sleep one night, on the verge of a panic attack. Your breathing was shallow, eyes unfocused as you fought to calm yourself. You were startled, a shriek leaving you as you felt something brush your arm. Light flooded your room, and your eyes immediately met Bucky’s as he stood beside your bed.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, doll,” he whispered, kneeling beside you. “ I could hear you all the way in the living room.”

“Sorry,” you weakly said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, sitting beside you, facing you as he pulled you into his arms.

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking, and Bucky tightened his arms around you.

“What if she’s never coming back? What if she’s dead?” you cried.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured, rocking you. “Don’t think the worst.”

“But-.”

He shushed you, cutting you off, and you couldn’t fight the tears as they spilled over. His hand brushed over your back, and you closed your eyes as he held you, not taking note of what was happening until his lips met yours. Your eyes flew open as confusion filled you.

You struggled to pull away, but Bucky’s hold was firm. His mouth moved over yours, and your eyes were wide as he kissed you. He only pulled away when you struggled to breathe, and you pressed your hands to his chest immediately.

“Bucky what-?”

“It’s alright. Let me make you feel better. Help you forget,” he murmured, leaning in again, but you turned away.

“No!”

You got out of his grip, scooting back against the headboard, looking at him as if he was a stranger. Bucky was frowning at you like you were in the wrong, and your mind was muddled with so many conflicting thoughts.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

He scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes at you like you had offended him.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? You smile and bat those eyelashes at me-.”

“I-.”

“You invite me into your home. You allow me to stay for as long as I want. You cook me breakfast, hell, we cook together like an old married couple. Are you telling me you intended to just play house forever?”

You were floored, and you flinched as you remembered your sister’s constant words, telling you that you were too nice, too trusting. You stared at Bucky, and you felt like an idiot. More tears sprung forth, and you dug your nails into the palm of your hands. 

“Bucky I…”

You looked down, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that...that there was more to this, but that was never my intention. I’m really sorry.”

You heard him heave a long sigh, shrinking in on yourself as he moved closer to you.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

You looked up at him, and he reached out to touch your chin. The blue of his eyes was a tad darker, colder than you’d ever seen them. 

“I keep forgetting how sweet you are. Too sweet. It’s my fault really, but let me explain how things will work from now on, just so there’s no confusion…”

Your brows drew together, dread swirling in your chest.

“You treat me nice, you be as sweet to me as you always are, and I’ll do everything in my power to find your sister. You don’t...and it’s classified as a simple runaway case.”

You sharply inhaled, mouth dropping open as you registered his words.

“What-?”

“Is that understood?”

He didn’t give you time to respond, pressing his lips to yours again. Your mind was screaming at you to do something, to fight him, get out and go get help. But what if he was telling the truth? Would he really give up on finding your sister if you didn’t sleep with him? Besides, even if you could get away, who could you go to for help? The police was currently pushing you onto your back, lips tasting every inch of you.

Still, you couldn’t help but to fight against him, and Bucky huffed. He paid your trembling hands no mind as he pushed your t-shirt up, fingers trailing over your skin as he did so. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. You almost felt like you were looking down on yourself as he undressed, and you barely fought him as he did the same to you. Your breathing was shallow, and you were certain that you were going to pass out.

“Bucky,” you breathed, pressing your hands against his shoulders.

He simply lowered himself, attaching his mouth to you, making you forget your train of thought for a second. He was like a man starved, tasting you until he was more than satisfied. You hadn’t had sex many times, the few times you did it was great, but this surpassed all of those times, something you never thought possible.

Your legs trembled around him, toes curling, and you reached down to press your hands against his head, trying and failing to push him away. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them in place while he had his fill of you. Your chest arched upwards, and one of your hands pressed against the headboard, attempting to ground yourself, but Bucky seemed determined to make your head spin.

“Bucky, stop,” you begged, voice cracking. “Please…”

Your next words were lost, the only thing climbing out of your throat being a moan. You tried your best to swallow it down as you came, but Bucky’s tongue and mouth didn’t rest, lapping up your juices as you clenched around the pink muscle. You were still coming down when he climbed over you, and you opened your mouth to stop him, beg him, but he pushed into you without warning. 

A gasp escaped you, a groan of his own leaving Bucky as he immediately began to thrust into you. You placed your hands on his chest, lips trembling as he slid into you over and over again. He kissed you again, taking you by surprise, and you stared up at him in something akin to disbelief.

How did you get here? Bucky was your friend, and somehow, here he was on top of you, forcing pleasure onto you that you never asked for.

“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth.

“Bucky,” you quietly begged.

“I always knew you’d be sweet in bed, making the cutest little noises, all soft skin and soft smiles.”

His words confused you, and it occurred to you that this behavior did not come out of nowhere.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to take you in the back of my cruiser, right there in the station, but you deserved better. You deserved to be kissed like a princess in between your sheets-.”

“Stop,” you begged. 

You wanted him to stop talking. You didn’t want to face how unbelievably stupid and trusting you had been. It hurt too much. He pressed his hips against yours again, his thick cock dragging along your slick walls.

“Your sister wasn’t good for you, doll.”

Your eyes widened as they met his, his brows furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat on his forehead as his hair hung over his face.

“She was nothing but trouble, always bringing nothing but her problems into your life. You were far too nice to do anything about it...so I did,” he told you, not a hint of humor in his blue eyes.

A horrified gasp escaped you, and you continued your struggle. You felt like you’d been punched in the chest, and your vision was completely blurry from your tears now. You were full on sobbing, but Bucky paid it no mind as he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hands down above your head. Every thrust was a brush against that little bundle of nerves, and you felt yourself clenching around him.

“Oh, that’s it,” he purred. “Come around my cock.”

“No, no, no,” you cried, bucking against him, but only making it worse for you.

Your second climax crashed over you like a wave, and like you were drowning, you struggled to breathe. Bucky’s lips felt like they were everywhere, and soon after, you felt him twitch inside of you, coating your walls as he came too. You couldn’t breathe, and you felt the walls of your room closing in.

“I’m the only one who knows where your sister is,” he murmured after catching his breath. “I’m the only one who knows if she’s even okay.”

Your chest was heaving, and you kept thinking to yourself that not enough air was getting in. Bucky wiped the sweat from your hairline, running his eyes over your spent frame as he caged you in even further.

“So if you want to see her again, you know what you need to do.”

The world finally caved in on you.

Even though you couldn’t have kids, it seemed like Bucky was determined to try. Or maybe he just couldn’t get enough of you. Despite the fact that he had a place of his own, he spent all of his free time at your house. His hands never strayed from you, and it seemed like he was kissing you any chance he got. At night, and sometimes in the morning, he enjoyed the feel of you wrapped around him, milking him as he groaned in your ear.

And what could you do but let him? Now knowing the truth, you wondered if you ever knew Bucky at all. How was it possible to hide one’s true self for years? Constantly? You remembered your sister’s last words about him, calling him a creep, and you wondered if he was that good or if you were simply that trusting? 

He acted as if you were a normal couple. He cooked with you, ate with you, watched tv with you, and even bathed with you. Bucky brought you flowers and gifts and pretty dresses he thought you’d look good in. Every time, you thanked him with a smile and could do nothing but accept it as he undressed you. Every time you asked about your sister, every time you built up the courage to, he always dodged the question, and you wondered how long this would go on.

As it turns out, not long at all.

He came to the house one day, angry and frantic and his eyes were searching for you. The minute he spotted you, he pounced. He was rougher than he had ever been, pinning you to the wall as he thrust into you, hand fisting your hair while the other pressed his fingers into your thigh. You felt like he was going to break you, but Bucky paid no mind to your tears. 

You had made your way to the floor when he finally came inside of you, sweaty and angry and gripping you like he’d lose you. You were trembling in his arms when he lifted his head, and you stared at him like he was going to hurt you some more. You watched as he swallowed, running his eyes over you as he reached up to brush his thumb along your lip.

“Sam and I gotta leave,” he breathed.

You blinked at him, frowning.

“It’s all so sudden, but they found some things, and we have to leave.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you stared at him in confusion.

“...but when it’s safe, I’m coming back for you,” he told you, making your heart sink.

“B-Bucky...my-.”

“You want to see her again, don’t you?”

You nodded, and he nodded with you. 

“Okay. Then you’ll wait for me. You don’t tell anybody what you know, and you wait for me. Tell me.”

Scared to say anything else, and scared that you’d never see your sister again, you told him what he wanted to hear.

“I’ll wait for you,” you whispered through trembling lips..

He kissed you, and that was the last time he kissed you for a long time. You didn’t know how many years had passed. 4? 5? 6? You couldn’t keep track and they all blended together. With Bucky gone, you felt more alone than you ever had before. Had your body grown used to his? Grown to crave his even? The man was your rapist. Was that normal?

The house was too painful for you to remain in, so you moved a couple of blocks over. Every day that passed, you wondered how your sister was doing. You wondered where she was. Some days you missed her more than others, and some days you were angry. Why couldn’t she have told you outright what Bucky was like. Surely, she must have known, known better than you.

Some days you were angry at Bucky, and on more than one occasion, you had even been tempted to tell someone what you knew. You hated him for what he did to you, what he’d done to your sister, putting you both through torment. Most days though, you were just angry with yourself. You felt like you deserved some blame in all of this, for being so naive, so trusting, for having faith in everyone until they proved otherwise. 

Work only distracted you for a short time, and the lonely nights came quicker than you liked. Provided that you were able to find sleep, it was normally after a crying fit. It all felt like a strange sort of limbo, and you wondered how long you were meant to endure it. You started to think that Bucky would never come back, you’d never see your sister again, and once again, you’d be an idiot for believing him. But what other choice did you have?

It was one early morning, the sun still yet to rise, when there was a knock on your door. You were riddled with sleep and practically stumbling to the door, but when you opened it, all of your fatigue was gone. Your wide eyes met familiar blue ones, and you felt like the air was sucked out of you.

His hair was shorter, but he otherwise looked the same. He was dressed darkly, as bulky as ever, and you took a step back when he took a step forward. An unfamiliar car was behind him, and you squinted, recognizing Officer Wilson in the passenger seat. Your eyes fell to Bucky again, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk.

“Hi, doll.”

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​ @gotnofucks​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​ @doozywoozy​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​ @ksjksjkv​

[sisterspooky1013]

Red-Handed, Chapter 8

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

This is a joint work with @xfmaweezy and we are taking prompts.

“You okay, Scully?”

Pressing the call button for the elevator, he bent in close to her ear to speak. They’d just left the sixth floor debriefing with AD Skinner and various other agents and law enforcement officials, closing out the case of two little girls who were abducted, taken across state lines, and tortured. It was some kind of organized crime ring retribution against the parents. Thanks to Mulder and Scully, the girls were found and placed into the custody of their grandparents.

The debriefing was celebratory, almost jovial, filled with slaps on backs and excited handshakes. But they knew better. Ruined, was the word Scully had used. Mulder didn’t know if she meant their lives or their futures or their little bodies. But they both knew the girls would never fully overcome their ordeal.

“I’m fine, Mulder. Really.”

Her fleeting eye contact and close-lipped smile did little to convince him she was, in fact, fine. She’d been moping around the office all morning. Actually, she hadn’t been right since they found the girls two days ago, and neither had he. But they never talked about these things. They were the only two people in the world who could possibly understand what the other was feeling, and knowing that had been enough. The weight of the debriefing proved that opening up, commiserating, would crush the dam that held back the torrents of their emotions. It was best to keep the wall up. Occasionally the wall would spring a leak and, like the child with his finger in the dike, they too would plug the hole with a finger. Or a pinky, as it were.

It started a few years ago - after another grueling case, another child, another impossible circumstance to overcome. Exhausted and barely hanging on by a thread, they pushed their way into the back of a police department elevator. Squeezed side by side into a corner, both facing forward, Scully’s view, as always, was the broad expanse of some man’s back.

As the doors closed and the car began its descent, Scully was jostled by a rambunctious young rookie who was riding the high of a case closed. Her hand inadvertently brushed against Mulder’s, and as if by some will outside of their own, their pinkies hooked together. In the minutes it took to reach the lobby, they stood stoic, face front, and secretly connected, grounded again, at least for the moment.

There would be countless elevators to come, countless corners to hide in, unspoken needs and bent pinky fingers. But this case was different. A dark haired eight-year-old girl and her blond four-year-old little sister. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see the dam was about to crumble.

As they silently tracked the progress of the elevator, both inwardly groaning each time it made another stop, several agents from the meeting began to gather and wait as well. Among them was Agent Stephanie Daniels from Organized Crime. Agent Daniels was a no-nonsense, by-the-rules hard ass whose presence commanded respect and admiration. Much like Mulder and Scully, she had been quiet during the debriefing. So Scully startled when Agent Daniels spoke to them, her clipped military tone straight and to the point.

“I wanted to thank you both. Without your involvement I’m positive the outcome of this case would have been very different.”

Scully knew that if she attempted a response she would break, and so she was relieved when Mulder offered a quiet, “Happy to help.”

When the car finally arrived and the doors slid open, they made their way to the rear corner and pressed their backs against the wall. Mulder called out B for Basement and the agent in front of him, the one closest to the control panel, pressed the buttons for the floors requested.

As the car filled, Scully shifted closer to Mulder, and before the doors even closed their pinkies looped together and they both exhaled in a failed attempt to relieve the tension that refused to abate.

When the car began to descend, Scully’s resolve plummeted as well, and Mulder felt her breaths begin to pant more rapidly. Breaking their unspoken rule, he glanced down at her beside him and made a decision. He unhooked his pinky from hers, triggering her to look up at him. Her panicked and sad eyes nearly shattered his own resolve, but he carried on, proceeding to thread all of his fingers through hers and squeezing her hand tightly.

His eyes desperately attempted to convey we’re in this together, we got this, you and me. As Scully began to calm, she reached across her body with her free hand and clasped Mulder by the forearm. She was clinging to him like a life preserver.

The elevator stopped periodically, depositing an agent here and there on various floors. As the car dinged its arrival to the first floor, Mulder and Scully cast their eyes forward, not really registering the nearly empty elevator. When the shiny doors closed again, Scully recognized in their reflection the only other person in the car with them. The agent appeared to be looking toward the control panel, but when Scully moved her eyes in that direction, she silently gasped.

Reflected back at her was the image of her clinging to Mulder’s arm. Scully cut her eyes back to Agent Daniels, and they connected and held through the reflection. When the elevator arrived at the garage floor, the doors opened, and Agent Daniels stepped off without looking back.

In that moment Scully knew Agent Daniels understood, and that tiny kernel of outside support was all it took to crack the dam. She flung herself into Mulder’s chest, where he engulfed her in his arms, and they broke together.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

was it a dream, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: You fucked Min Yoongi on Jeon Jungkook’s bed, then you took Jungkook’s virginity because Yoongi told you to, and still you and Yoongi don’t know what the fuck you are because, let’s face it, everything is too complicated now – so I guess that’s grounds to let Jungkook cum all over your face and tits as Yoongi fucks you? Sure, whatever.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, alcohol consumption; no one wants to admit anything and there’s no closure tbh; fluff and feels; smut (fem reader, threesome, semi-public sex, fingering, f-receiving oral, nipple play, penetrative sex, doggy, facial, cum-eating); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi and JK

a–dick–ted au, but can be read alone.

–

next on ‘dreams‘ playlist > pretty ting by bibi ft. kim seungmin > te quiero by twly ft bibi

"I get bored."

"Mhm."

"I don't like lingering."

"Mmm."

"... We're still in front of the house, Yoongi."

"I know where we are."

Min Yoongi was peeling your black hoodie up and over your head. Well, actually, his hoodie. It made your now red hair cascade down over your shoulders, wisping around your red bra straps. Yoongi was the one who suggested you to dye your hair. You didn't do it for him. You were going to do it anyway. 

Right.

Whiskey on his breath, leaning in. Tasting like danger and sex, just because it was him. 

"I like this skirt," Yoongi purred. "It's tiny."

He was referring to your plaid red skirt. Almost schoolgirl-style, except no schoolgirl wore anything that short. You used to wear it in high school when you went to the arcades on weekends. Back then, you were much skinner and trying to unsuccessfully hook-up with guys. You still fit into it, waist-wise. Ass-wise.... not so much. You filled out over the years. 

"It's cold."

Yoongi hummed knowingly. His hands worked up your thighs, spreading them out. Pushed down your black thigh-high socks so he could knead more of them. 

"You still wore it though."

Well, yeah. You weren't trying to pick up random guys anymore. Only Min Yoongi. Every time, at these loud ass house parties with too many drunk people and too loud bass. It was a mess. Someone was attempting to chug a whole barrel of beer and ended up vomiting in the grass. 

Disgusting. 

"Why do you go to these things?" you muttered as Yoongi lifted one of your legs, tucking it beside him so he could stare at your clothed pussy. Red, seamless, cheeky. Not a thong. He clicked his tongue in disappointment, but you ignored him. 

"Free alcohol."

"Really?" you snorted, backing up a little as his hand neared. "I could just buy whiskey and bring it to you if you want free alcohol that bad."

Yoongi smirked, licking his pink lips. Wet, glistening. You wanted them on your clit right now. His fingers dipped down, stroking the smooth red fabric lightly. Too lightly. Teasing you. You twisted the urge to raise your hips for more pressure. 

"Where's the fun in that?"

You raised an eyebrow. 

Yoongi pressed down, fingertips shoving the fabric into you, soaking it instantly. You sucked in a breath, staring into his dark, cat-like eyes.

"Why do that when I can make you jealous by going to these parties and having you wonder if I've kissed someone else, touched someone else, fucked someone else?"

He rubbed your clit through the fabric and you gritted your teeth, moving your hand down, but Yoongi was faster, slapping it away. Rubbed harder, a low moan leaving your throat. You didn't want to reach up with your other hand because you might lose balance and hit your steering wheel and accidentally honk your horn. That would be a disaster. 

Yeah.

Of course, that’s why you weren’t stopping him now.

"I don't care what you do, Yoongi," you panted, glaring at him. 

Different house, different party, same car, the correct scene this time, with the right guy in your car, getting you off through your panties. 

Why don't you have a boyfriend?

That was Yoongi's first question when he slid into your car this night. Looking fine as hell with his black-and-white flannel, gray t-shirt, black cargo pants, black sneakers. Straight black hair covering his eyes, a clean undercut when he pushed it back to smirk at you. 

Yoongi curled his finger, now grinding your clit with his knuckle. Oh, fuck. Your juices leaked into your panties, darkening the wet spot and filling the car with your scent. Close.

"You don't care, hm?" Yoongi mused in a tone implying that he knew you cared. Very much. After all, what happened last time… You don't slap bitches across the face for no good reason. 

"She was making out with someone who couldn't consent from my point of view."

There was a dark sparkle of mischief in Yoongi's eyes. 

"Who was? I wasn't referring to anything in particular."

Shit. 

Your face heated and you grinded into his hand, breathing hard, not caring anymore. Whatever. Who cares what Min Yoongi thought? You were going to get off and whether he was there or not didn't fucking matter. Yoongi pressed his knuckle into you, dark hair shadowing his eyes, soft exhales as he watched you near your peak. 

"Cum for me," Yoongi breathed, raspy and deep. "Right here, in front of this party, in your panties, and on my hand."

He could make you do anything. 

You bit your lip and pressed the back of your head into the car window, shutting your eyes, letting the whines out. Pleasure warming you, tendrils of heat crawling up your torso from Yoongi's hand, your soft voice telling him he was so good and he was purring your name, drawing it out, so sexy in his husky tone saturated with lust. 

"A-ah, Yoongi..."

Your back arched and your breathing hiked, onto the edge and then falling, falling, Yoongi's knuckle suddenly slicker, your hips rocking and shivering, whimpering as the pleasure shocked your heart, beating so fast and hard that you felt your pulse in your throat. You heard Yoongi snicker, spreading his fingers out, pressing them to your wet panties, shoving them into your folds, rubbing soothingly.

"I like this most," came his smokey whisper behind your closed lids. "I always have the most fun with you."

You're such a bad boy, Min Yoongi. 

You breathed out in long, smooth breaths, trying to calm your speeding heartbeat. Yoongi's hand still on your crotch, the other on your thigh, squeezing it.

"Noona, open the door."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. You sucked on your tongue and opened your eyes. A clear voice with silvery depth. It had come from behind your head. You made eye contact with Yoongi. 

He looked thoroughly amused. 

You turned your head partway to see your side mirror. Yup. Ash blond hair, dark eyes, black tattoos as his right hand tapped your car window, tan skin, sharp jawline. White turtleneck, white denim jacket over it. Black jeans.

The wrong guy. Jeon Jungkook. 

You heard your car doors click and, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi press the button to unlock them. Hmph. Jungkook moved from the front seat to open the backseat. Climbed in like he owned the damn place. He also smelled like alcohol, but all kinds, unlike Yoongi's whiskey scent. 

"Hey, hyung."

"Hello, Jungkook."

You didn't look at him. 

"Hey, noona."

"Get out of my car," you spat.

"Should I get out of the car, hyung?"

"No. She doesn't mean it."

You glared daggers at Yoongi, who smirked widely. Your legs were spread open in Yoongi's lap, your hoodie was off, there was a giant wet spot between your thighs, your skirt was far too short to cover anything, and your red hair was in disarray, fucked up by Yoongi's insistence. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook, who looked back at you. You thought he would be gazing at your body, but he wasn't. He was staring at your face. 

Somehow, that was worse.

Your neck heated and you looked away from those brown eyes, to the house. Jungkook's female harem was at the porch, gaggling at your car. Seven of them. Why was there seven? That's a random number, you thought. They were beginning to recognize your car. Hmph. Well, you can have him, just leave me and Yoongi alo–

You gasped as Jungkook pulled the lever of your seat, dumping you to the back of the car, scooping his arm around your shoulders, grabbing your head and kissing you hard, tasting like alcohol and smelling like laundry and the sea. You moaned into his mouth as Yoongi slipped under your panties and shoved two fingers into you, grunting at your tightness. Jungkook's soft tongue slid into your lips, your name mumbled onto your tongue, rubbing it as Yoongi fingered you. Too much simulation at once. Jungkook's free hand pushed up your bra, exposing one of your breasts and pinching your nipple. You whined, hips bucking into Yoongi's hand, too much, it was too much, Jungkook’s rough kisses and Yoongi's long fingers, and you felt the wet squelch as it all spilled out, gushing down Yoongi's hand, chest heaving in Jungkook's arms, moaning your release into the younger man's mouth. 

Jungkook broke the kiss, scrambling down as Yoongi removed his fingers. Yoongi brought them to his face and swirled his tongue around his digits. He hummed approvingly around his fingers as you whined, feeling Jungkook's hot tongue lap up the rest, licking at your swollen clit, sensitive from Yoongi's prior work.

"Don't put your dirty tongue on me after you've ate out other girls all night," you gritted out, hand reaching down to grip Jungkook's blond hair. Not pulling him away, but not pushing him in either. 

"I didn't eat anyone out," Jungkook murmured into your pussy, vibrating the slick lips with his low voice. "Hyung told me you were picking him up and that you would pick me up too."

You said no such thing. You gave Yoongi a peeved look and Yoongi just smirked around his wet fingers, smearing your juices over his lips and licking them off. You shivered and pushed Jungkook's head into your pussy, gasping as he shoved his tongue into your hole. 

The girls outside seemed to realize what was going on. They were pointing accusingly and yapping amongst themselves. Your tits were half out, after all. 

"Great, now everyone thinks I'm a slut, Yoongi," you grumbled.

"Who cares?" Yoongi said dismissively. "Anyone who talks shit is going to answer to my fist."

Jungkook lifted his head, panting for breath, chin shiny with your pussy. He didn't look outside. He simply curved his arm around Yoongi's head and flipped off anyone looking in the car. You raised your eyebrows. Thank the American culture for making the middle finger the universal 'fuck you' so that even Koreans knew what it meant. Yoongi seemed to know what Jungkook was doing and laughed huskily as Jungkook backed up, slumping in the backseat. 

"Am I supposed to drive like this?" you hissed, shoving your exposed breast back into your bra and snapping your panties into place before lowering your leg. Ugh, your underwear was soaked. You had pulled your foot out of your boot before Yoongi started pretzeling you in the driver's seat of your own damn car. You shoved your foot back into it now, fixing yourself up. Yoongi plucked the black hoodie from the driver’s seat. 

"Technically, this isn't yours."

"I thought it looked familiar," Jungkook remarked, wiping his chin and then licking off the back of his hand.

You righted your seat, rolling your eyes. 

"Whatever," you mumbled as you started your car. 

-

“Why did you make me do it?” you had asked him.

Yoongi’s lips trailed along your bare shoulder, pulling down his blanket to leave his marks on you.

“Do what?” he had murmured against your skin, making you shiver.

“The whole ‘taking-Jeon-Jungkook’s-virginity’ thing.’”

He traced your shoulder blade with his tongue. “Did I read the situation wrong?” Completely neutral, his hand coming up to run his fingers through your hair. You melted into the action, one of your favorites. It made your skin tingle and your breathing soften, releasing the tenseness in your chest. “You always tell me if I’m wrong.”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Did you hate it?”

“… No.”

Yoongi turned you around to face him, his black hair brushing against your cheeks. Eyes barely open, but seeing all of you. He collected your hair in his fingers, pushing it back and away from your neck. His lips swollen from your kisses; his fair skin nicked with pink from your bites.

“That’s good.”

His finger drew the line of your collarbone, dark orbs watching your lips part, wanting him. Pulling yourself closer to him, skin to skin, his warmth against yours. You leaned in. Yoongi didn’t move away, his breath against your lips.

“What are we?” you whispered.

“Don’t know.” His lips grazed against yours and your moaned softly into them. “Whatever you want.” Dainty, simple kisses. “We’re whatever you want. You know that.” Capturing your lips, trapping them, fingers dancing down, looping around your waist and pulling you close, chest to chest. “You want it to stay like this, it will stay like this.” Grinding against your thigh, hardening against your softness. “You want me to keep driving you crazy, you want me to keep letting Jungkook play with you, then it’ll happen.”

Deep, intense kisses, teasing you, making you addicted to him.

“You want me to go away and leave you alone, I will.”

Your arm came around and you tangled your fingers in his black hair, kissing him fiercely.

“No, don’t leave me alone,” you breathed. “Want this. Want you.”

He purred your name against your lips, flitting his tongue between them.

“Want you, Yoongi.”

-

Everyone said the same thing.

Min Yoongi is a bad boy. Min Yoongi is a playboy. Min Yoongi doesn’t care about anything. He’s just a guy who makes pretty good music, but think twice before trying to get close to him. He’s had the same friends for years and any new ones were superficial acquaintances.

You didn’t care about any of that. You weren’t really hanging out with him anyway. He was just always there when you were kind-of, sort-of dating Kim Namjoon. And it was a kind-of, sort-of because you kept it that way. Namjoon kept asking you to take it further, but you held him at a distance, saying it was too early and that you were careful with your heart.

Then It was the little things. Accidents.

A brush. A graze. A single fingertip.

Yoongi’s eyes on yours. Watching you. Challenging. It didn’t mean anything, until it did. It didn’t mean anything, until the touches got bolder, the moments got longer, and then you were in the bathroom hallway of some random club, face-to-face with Min Yoongi, and he was close, so close, but not touching you. He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you and you knew, shit this whole thing with Namjoon is not it, because no matter how good riding Kim Namjoon’s dick was, it was not Min Yoongi’s stare that was instantly making your pussy throb.

His long fingers danced in the air. Tracing the curve of your jaw, but not touching you. Whiskey on his breath, but not breathing on you. Cocking his eyebrow at you, at you. His palm turned upwards, two fingers outstretched and, if you leaned forward, you could place you chin on them.

But you didn’t.

“Are you wet?” Yoongi whispered huskily, barely heard over the loud bass.

You blinked slowly. “Are you hard?”

His lips curved into a devious smirk.

“Yeah.”

Pause.

“Yes.”

Someone was vomiting real fucking loudly in the men’s bathroom.

Yoongi dropped his hand and took a step back. Let his eyes linger on you as he backed up and walked away, rounding the corner.

You broke up that thing with Namjoon that night. It wasn’t fair to him and he wasn’t in that deep yet, so he was chill with it. Understanding. He wasn’t getting the vibes from you either. You didn’t even know if you had vibes.

You didn’t throw yourself into Min Yoongi’s arms. That would be rude and, besides, it wasn’t like you knew him that well. But Namjoon still invited you to things, concerts and stuff, because he was a nice guy and, even if you guys weren’t dating, he was still friendly. And you went, even if you didn’t really like people. Just in case.

The first couple times, Yoongi wasn’t there.

And then he was.

And then it started again, but bolder this time, crazier things, short skirts and exploring hands, no talking, no chats, only eyes and touches, until it wasn’t, his hands curling into your shirt, shoving you against the wall and kissing you and you kissing him back, fingers slipping under his leather jacket and pushing up his shirt, nails on his skin.

His raspy voice against your puffy lips.

“Let’s have some fun.”

Always going to these damn parties, always asking you to take him home so he could take you down, gasping your name into your ear, telling you the same thing.

“I always have the most fun with you.”

Asking you how you wanted it today, from the back, from the front, against the wall, saying he’ll do anything to get you off. You want his tongue? His fingers? His dick? He would give it to you. Spread your legs open on his kitchen counter and eat you out like you were his fucking groceries.

Always reminding you.

“The best sex is still you.”

You would still go to the events Namjoon invited you to, his underground concerts, and watch Yoongi open for him every once in a while, growling into the mic and glaring at the audience, until he found you, lips curving into his trademark open-mouthed smirk that would be in between your legs later that night.

Min Yoongi is a bad boy.

Min Yoongi is a playboy.

Min Yoongi doesn’t care about anything.

So what?

You can feel however you want.

You can live however you want.

No reason to take anything seriously.

Whatever, right?

-

“Give me the fucking hoodie.”

“Nah, you can borrow Jungkook’s jacket.”

“Except you can’t button it, noona.”

You sucked in an annoyed breath. “Fine, give me the fucking jacket.”

Min Yoongi smirked, watching Jeon Jungkook strip his denim jacket and hand it to you. You put it on, scowling. “You act like it’s acid,” Yoongi chuckled.

“I’m burning,” you snapped sarcastically. “Absolutely dying being covered in Jeon Jungkook.”

“You want to be covered in Jeon Jungkook’s cum, that’s for sure.”

You took too long to respond to Yoongi’s quip. Jungkook smirked, placing his forearms on the headrest of your seat, craning his head around to look at your face. You turned away, feeling your neck and ears pulse. His ash blond hair drifted down, shading one of his brown eyes.

“Yeah, noona? Is that what you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“Shut up.”

You twisted away and got out of your car, followed by the two men. Didn’t look at either of them. It was a cold night, but your body was hot. It wasn’t covered enough. You felt an arm curve around your waist, tattoos on a tan hand. A sharp chin balancing on your red hair.

“Need your help, noona. I’m kind of drunk.”

“Let me call the Grim Reaper.”

A fair hand sliding under the denim jacket, making you hiss with the cold touch.

“You chilly?” Yoongi teased. “Need cuddles?”

You didn’t say anything. He could feel how hot your skin was, saw your ears were fucking scorching with embarrassment with how short your plaid skirt was. You locked your car, ignoring them.

“It’s only three flights of stairs,” Jungkook murmured, probably staring at your ass.

Whatever, right?

-

“Need my jacket back, noona.”

“Where’s the hoodie?” you grumbled to Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugged. “Left it in your car.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking typical. I’ll go get–”

Yoongi shoved you into Jungkook’s apartment.

-

“He just wants another taste.”

Warm lips on your neck, large fair-skinned hands circled with black-and-white checked flannel dancing up your bare chest, bra already gone. Jungkook already on his knees, looking up at you, licking his lips. Still in his white turtleneck and jeans.

“Look at him. Isn’t he cute? Don’t you want to shove your dripping pussy into those pink lips and grab that blond hair?”

“You’re so bad, Yoongi.”

You lifted up your skirt, so fucking short it was basically useless. You ticked your chin to your panties, damp from earlier in the car. “Help me take them off, Jungkook.”

Jungkook licked his lips again, letting his tongue dawdle before sliding it back in.

“You sure, noona?”

“Yeah.” Sucked in a breath as Yoongi teased your nipples, too familiar of a scene. “Want your mouth, please.” Rubbed them in between his fingertips and you moaned, leaning into Yoongi’s touch. “Please, Jungkook, wanna cum in your mouth.”

The side of Jungkook’s lips cocked upwards. “Of course, noona.” Reached up and hooked his fingers on the sides, pulling them down your thighs, mouth watering as he witnessed your wetness. Leaned forward and buried his nose into it, inhaling deeply, shuddering. “Smells so fucking good.”

Yoongi’s fingers leaving your breasts, running through your red hair, the hair you dyed because he causally said you should dye it red. He got it out of you eventually, both hands in your hair as he fucked you into his bed, balls slapping into you with his force, breathing in your face.

“Your hair is so fucking sexy,” he had panted. “You dyed it red because I said you should, didn’t you?”

“No.”

He stopped suddenly, leaving you full, but unstimulated, bent in half under him. You tried to move, but Yoongi’s grip in your hair had tightened, breathing hard against your lips.

“You’re no liar,” he had whispered.

“Move.”

“Tell the truth.”

Gentle kiss. His cock twitched inside you and you moaned, needing more.

“Tell the truth,” he had commanded.

“Yes, fuck, Yoongi, yes, now fucking give it to me.”

He began to fuck you again, hard and satisfying and everything you wanted. The best fucking dick you’ve ever had, made you cum twice before him, made you gasp his name and clutch his sheets, just like how you grabbed his shirt and gasped his name right now, leaning back against him as Yoongi’s head curved around your body, attaching his lips to your nipple as Jungkook’s tongue dipped into your drenched pussy, his moan vibrating your core as Yoongi sucked, playing with your other nipple with his hand. Standing in Jungkook’s bedroom, two mouths on you. Jungkook took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder, noisily and messily eating you out, Yoongi’s whiskey breath now all over your tits.

You could have been mad, but you were too horny to be angry, too busy humping Jungkook’s face and arching your back to get more into Yoongi’s hot mouth. One hand in Yoongi’s black hair and the other in Jungkook’s blond hair, gripping them both tight, losing yourself in the pleasure, head tipped back and tongue sliding out, impossible to catch your breath. Jungkook’s tongue lapped at your clit, closing in on it, adding more force, and you whimpered, legs shaking.

“Jungkook, a-ah, fuck…”

Skirt bunched around your waist, far too short to even blanket Jungkook’s face, giving you a clear view of his intense brown eyes, one hand on your thigh and the other wrapped around your ass, shoving your hips into his face.

Yoongi flicked your hard nipple with his tongue and pinched the other. You moaned, shivers up your spine, suddenly tipping into your orgasm and spilling it all into Jungkook’s mouth, Yoongi’s name leaving your lips, rolling your body into his face, hearing him chuckle in that deep voice of his. Jungkook slurped greedily, lapping at your pussy as Yoongi released your nipple and came up, murmuring your name, feathery kisses on your lips.

“So sexy,” he breathed. “So fuckable.”

You moaned into Yoongi’s mouth as your rode Jungkook’s face, and Jungkook got the hint, licking you all over again, your clit throbbing onto his tongue, leaking more and more into his mouth.

“Fuck, noona, you taste so fucking good when you’re horny,” Jungkook growled, his Busan satoori slipping out. “Extra sweet, like candy.”

Yoongi gave you one last kiss as Jungkook lowered your leg, standing up to cup your face and kiss you, smearing your juices on your face and licking them off, a fucking mess, your own sweet-sour taste spreading everywhere. You shuddered against his lips, one hand still in his hair, the other letting go of Yoongi’s black locks and clutching Jungkook’s turtleneck as he kissed you.

“Leave the skirt on, noona,” Jungkook mumbled. “You look so cute in it. Cute little slut.”

Body so hot, so fucking hot that it felt like your skin was on fire.

“… Fine.”

Jungkook’s hands sliding back, burying in your dark red shadow root, light kisses on your cheeks. “Just playing around, noona. I know you’re not a slut.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jungkook chuckled and grabbed your ass, grinding his crotch into yours. “You do like playing with me, don’t you?” He was so fucking hard, even through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“Mhm.” You swallowed your moan, gripping Jungkook tighter. “Don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me though.”

“I told you,” Jungkook purred, nudging you towards his bed, getting you to climb onto it, those familiar navy sheets, so soft against your skin. They smelled just like Jungkook, fresh laundry with a hint of the sea. “Sex dreams with you are too good. I need the real thing.”

He dumped you on his bed, leaning down, kissing you once more.

“I wanna see you doing the stuff you do in my dreams.”

-

“You look cold.”

You shivered. “I’m not.”

Yoongi pulled off his black hoodie and held it out to you.

You puffed out hot air. “I don’t need it.”

His voice low and husky. “Smells like me.”

You bit you lip and took it from him, slipping it over your shoulders. Smelled so fucking good, just like Yoongi with a hint of whiskey. You snuck a glance at him in your passenger’s seat. He was leaning back in the chair, sighing softly, black hair all over his closed eyes. You saw the dark circles. His face seemed paler than usual. You started the car.

“Need to drop by the pharmacy.”

“Any chain in particular?” you replied absentmindedly.

Yoongi waved a hand. “Just need hangover meds and water.”

You tapped the water bottle in your cupholder. “There’s some left.”

You kept your eyes on the road as he reached over and drank from it. You heard it being drained. You drove steadily, thinking of the closest pharmacy. Stopped at a red light, thinking you needed to turn left at the next one.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Mhm.”

Silence with your steady driving, ever so slightly going over the speed limit. Not enough to get caught. Just on the edge. Gliding in the darkness, surrounded by yellow headlights and red backlights. You pulled into a parking lot, right in front of the pharmacy.

“Be a sec.”

Yoongi hauled himself out of the seat, wearing only his over-sized white t-shirt and distressed blue jeans. Was it just you or his arms a little skinner than before? The silver bracelets seemed looser on his wrists.

“Want your–?”

The car door shut.

“Hoodie,” you finished, speaking to no one. You watched Yoongi stagger to the door, pulling a black face mask out and covering his face before entering. You had a brief, fleeting moment where you thought, I should have gone with him, but you frowned. Yoongi was an adult. He didn’t need you.

He didn’t need you.

You rested your arms on your steering wheel and waited. Waited. You were good at waiting. Was it still waiting if that your default state, just breezing through life, wondering if there was any meaning in it all, wondering if anything meant anything? You made a face. Why were you having an existential crisis right now? Stupid. If nothing mattered, why bother agonizing over it?

Whatever.

The car door opened and Yoongi slid in, tugging off his face mask and holding a plastic bag.

“Here.”

You jumped as Yoongi threw a small plastic packet in your lap. Gummy bears.

“You like these, right?”

You blinked at them. “Yeah… I guess.” You did like gummy bears. Why did he get gummy bears?

“That’s good.”

That was that. Yoongi cracked open a water bottle. You waited as he scowled, dumping powder into the water and shaking it up. He squinted at the directions and then resumed shaking the water bottle, turning the water a cloudy white. He reopened the bottle and took a large swig, shuddering as he removed it from his lips. He didn’t look pleased, but he accepted it.

“What are you trying to forget?”

“Hm?”

You shrugged, tilting your head at him. “I mean, you go out drinking a lot. That’s what alcoholics do.”

Yoongi snorted. “I’m never drunk.”

“What’s with the hangover meds, then?” you pointed out.

His eyes slid to you. They seemed extra dark even in the bright streetlights.

“I don’t want a headache in the morning,” he muttered. “Or a limp dick.”

You chuckled. “I can just drop you off and go home.” You reached over and started the car. He seemed tired and stressed. You figured you could let him sleep. Wasn’t like you picked him up only because you wanted a quick fuck.

He tapped the water bottle against your forearm as you started turning out of the parking lot. You spared him a glance, raising your eyebrows.

“Wanna see your face in the morning,” he said casually, taking another sip. You could barely see his eyes with his black bangs covering them. “And hear you begging for my dick to fuck you harder.”

You rolled your eyes and drove him to his apartment.

You stayed that night.

-

“Jungkook, your dreams are freaky as fuck,” Yoongi cackled, hoisting your hips up as you whined, back arched and wrists tied by Jungkook’s belt looped a few times around them and buckled closed.

Jungkook asked you to keep the skirt on. He asked you to move your arms back and stick your chest out, breasts pushed together by your upper arms, nipples sticking straight out. He asked you to press your forearms together and not move them, hands clasped together as he jacked off in front of you.

Sure, whatever.

He also asked Yoongi to rail you from behind while he was doing it, and asked his hyung to make your tits bounce.

And Yoongi told him he was freaky as fuck as he slid into you, using one of Jungkook’s condoms, mentioning that Jungkook should buy a different brand because they were thinner and better quality.

“Okay, hyung, I’ll make sure to have them next time.”

Next time, okay, yeah, sure Jungkook, it’s not like you’re the one on Yoongi’s dick, you thought wryly as Yoongi began to move, slow but hard, your breasts bouncing at the action, gasp torn from your throat.

“Why do you even have condoms?” you muttered between pants, rocking on Yoongi’s hips as he lifted you and dropped you on his hard cock, ugh, so fucking good, felt so good as Yoongi fucked you and you watched Jungkook’s right hand wrapped around his stiff length, the red head disappearing and reappearing in his tattooed fingers, his chest rippling and his lower lip in his teeth, tiny mole dancing underneath it, eyes on your bouncing tits, moaning as he watched the obscenity in front of him.

Felt good to be watched and tied up, kneeling on Jungkook’s bed, because it was wrong, so fucking wrong, but it felt so fucking good.

“In case you want to fuck me,” Jungkook gasped. “Unless you want my babies.”

You huffed. “I do not.”

Jungkook ticked his head, smirk on his lips with his lip bite. “There you go.” He scooted closer and you ticked an eyebrow, feeling Yoongi’s fingertips dig into you as he smacked his crotch into your ass. You moaned, Yoongi’s name dropping from your lips.

“You always look so fucking hot when you’re getting fucked.”

You chuckled. “This is only the second time you’ve watched me getting fucked.”

Jungkook grinned. “Nope, I’ve seen you get fucked hundreds of times in my dreams.”

You rolled your eyes and the action was cut short as Yoongi shifted and hit your favorite spot, making you cry out and lurch forward, breath in Jungkook’s face, breasts knocking together. Your hands touched the bed, squeezing your tits, gasping for breath.

“Don’t fall over, naughty girl,” Yoongi purred. “Give Jungkookie the best view.”

You lifted your head back, balancing on your fingertips, mouth open, tongue touching your lip, vision hazy with lust. Jungkook’s blond hair covered one of his brown eyes, jaw clenched and he stroked himself faster, veins popping out on his hardness, pre-cum leaking from the tip and running down.

“Wanna cum on your face and tits, noona,” Jungkook breathed. “Wanna cover you with me.”

“Where are your manners, Jungkook?” Yoongi barked behind you, the smacking between you two radiating off the walls, squeaking the bed, and probably wholeheartedly disturbing his neighbors.

Jungkook sank his teeth in his lip, suddenly apologetic. You were about to blurt out that you didn’t give a shit, but Jungkook spoke, breathless with a hint of neediness, staring into your eyes with his brown doe-like ones, and suddenly you couldn’t say anything, repeatedly jerked forward by Yoongi’s forceful thrusts, frozen by Jungkook’s whisper.

“Please, noona… Please let me cum on your tits. On your face. Please let me see you with my cum all over you.”

Once again, you were reminded that Jungkook actually liked you.

“… O-Okay, Jungkook,” you gasped. “A-Anything you want.”

You arched your back even more, tipping your head up, breathing hard. Jungkook had to stand on the bed, his thin moans indicating he was nearing his end and you stared up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s cock, whimpering as you felt him fill you over and over, his long fingers bruising your hips, Yoongi’s rough, raspy drawl of you name, deepened by his Daegu satoori.

“Such a sexy woman, so eager to get a faceful of cum, aren’t you?”

You whined, lust building inside you, staring into Jungkook’s glazed-over brown eyes and his thick, dark red cock ready to burst. Yoongi’s voice could make you do anything. He really could. And you wanted him to. You wanted him to make you do anything he wanted, everything he wanted. Your voice was soaked with lust, eyes half-lidded, lips wetly parted.

“Y-Yes, Yoongi… I want Jungkook’s cum all over me…”

Jungkook’s shaking left hand touched your forehead, gently holding you in place, ash blond strands brushing against his high cheekbones as he whispered your name, heavy with his Busan satoori.

“You’re so good to me, noona.”

He moaned your name again and came with hot white strings, splattering down your cheeks and neck, some of it hitting your lips and tongue, spilling onto your bouncing breasts, coating them with his salty orgasm. You moaned back, eyes rolling back as you hit your peak, painted in Jungkook’s cum, so hot, so sticky on your skin, and you tightened around Yoongi’s cock, whimpering as you came, suddenly so wet like a waterfall, slick and viscous, reminding you of the first time that you came on this bed with Yoongi’s tongue on top of Jungkook’s sleeping body, but this time Jungkook was shoving the sensitive head in between your open lips, groaning as you licked off the dripping cum, some of it dribbling into your throat.

Yoongi hissed your name, and you whimpered as his cock twitched inside you, fully sheathing himself in your burning heat before spilling into the condom, his jerking length being roughly massaged by your tight walls. Jungkook’s cum was running down your chest, clinging to your nipples, dripping onto his sheets. Jungkook pulled out of your mouth and your tongue extended, licking at the leftover cum on the outskirts of your lips before you yelped abruptly.

“A-ah, Jungkook!”

Jungkook’s hands cupped your breasts, pushing them together and running his hot tongue over your breasts, sucking off his orgasm, lapping at your nipples, making you shudder and squirm, wiggling on Yoongi’s cock and pussy throbbing with every lick.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi groaned, obviously witnessing Jungkook’s slurping of his cum off your tits and neck, and feeling you moan and buck on his slowly softening cock. “You’re wild, Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice or care, kissing up your throat, tongue flicking against your cheeks, breath hot on your face, saturated with the salty scent of his cum. His palms on your trembling jaw, pulling you down to his lips, kissing you deeply, your moan in his mouth.

“You feel good, noona?” Jungkook whispered huskily against your lips.

“Y-Yeah…”

Your heart was rattling against your ribcage, still shattered from your orgasm and the dirtiness of Jungkook’s actions. So hard to come down, trapped on cloud nine, struggling for breath. Jungkook pressed his sweaty forehead into yours, fingers sliding back to run them through your red strands, your skin tingling at his touch. His blond hair stuck to your face, his brown eyes closing.

“Don’t worry,” he breathed softly against your quivering breath. “I’m here with you.”

-

You opened your eyes, slowly.

Groggily.

Navy sheets, so soft against your bare skin. Hand splayed over your breasts, covering them, holding you close to a hard, muscular chest. Your eyes flickered down, trying to blink the sleep away. Black tattoos on tan skin. You shifted your eyes forward. Mop of black hair, messily covering what you knew were dark, cat-like eyes. Pale chest, completely bare. Your hand was around his slim waist, fingertips on his back.

Don’t you want to be bad with me?

You retreated your hand. Those dark eyes opened, just a crack.

Watching you.

Your hand reached up, tracing his jaw. Palm up. Placed two fingers on his chin, caressing it.

His name, his name, perfectly formed by your lips, your addiction, the feeling you couldn’t give up.

“Yoongi.”

His pink lips curved into a devious smirk. His hand closed around yours, fingers intertwining.

Spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

Held your hand as you closed your eyes once again, nestled in Jungkook’s arms.

-

fourth act. lucid dreams a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

[whisperlullaby]

Team-Building

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Sam

Words: 2369

Warnings: Smut (18+only), oral (f and m receiving), threesome, explicit language

Summary: You are an HR receptionist lucky enough to be around each time Sam and Bucky come in to attend their mediation sessions. They want to apologize for making you stay late one night. 

A/N: Written for my lovely @river-soul read over and confirmed it’s not trash by @syntheticavenger Gifs by @navybrat817​ Minors please DO NOT INTERACT. This is my first time writing a threesome so be kind with feedback! If I missed any warnings let me know and PLEASE enjoy.

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder as you become more impatient at the fact you were still at work well past closing. As an HR receptionist, it was your responsibility to process the paperwork involved in Steve giving Sam the shield. You had been working tirelessly, trying to get everything in order, and yet you couldn’t seem to get that last signature needed to finalize the transition. The bickering between Sam and Bucky was holding everything up. They had to go to HR at least once a day if not more to meet with the staff mediator, Emma. You were tasked with locking up the office and you couldn’t very well do that while there were people still in the building, no matter how tempting. Finally, you heard to door click open and each person filed out.

“Now, gentlemen, I hope this can be our last meeting.” Emma sighed, “Just try to find some common ground. Maybe find a hobby or activity you can do together. Kind of like team building.”

You chuckled listening to Emma. She was a complete angel coming in multiple times a day just to field the laundry list of complaints against the duo for their behavior. Your laughing drew in the attention of the pair and as Emma left, they stopped at your desk.

“Hey, there sugar what are you doing here so late?” Sam cocked his eyebrow leaning on your desk.

“Well, Sam there are these two idiots who keep getting into shit with the rest of the team and have late end-of-the-day mediations. Guess who can’t close up the office until those sessions end, and everyone leaves the building?” You teased.

“Doll, I don’t think it’s nice to call Emma an idiot. Sam sure, but Emma? She’s a saint. Has to put up with that asshole.” Bucky gestured to Sam with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You have known Sam and Bucky for a few months now since they started coming into HR for their mediation. At first, it was polite hello’s given before they bickered their way out of the office. Soon they began to hang over your desk as you finished up tasks and walked you to your car almost nightly. Sam would occasionally bring you your favorite coffee, and as if to one-up him, Bucky would bring you your favorite flowers. He would tell you they would last much longer than some silly coffee. 

They stayed close to your desk as you went about locking up, watching you closely and sharing knowing glances. You squinted your eyes suspiciously at the two of them and when you finally managed to shoo them out of the building to lock up, they followed you to your car.

“So, any plans tonight?” Sam asked throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Just going home, ordering take out, and drinking copious amounts of wine. What about you guys? Gonna find out if you have any hobby’s in common?” You laugh, shrugging off Sam’s shoulder as Bucky grabbed your hand.

“Oh I don’t think Sam and I have much in common outside of enjoying your company.” Bucky brought your hand to his face and gave it a kiss. “How about you let us treat you to dinner?”

You smiled at Bucky and looked over at Sam who could hardly contain his amusement. 

“If you guys behave. I’m not about to referee a fight between the two of you. It’s been a long enough week as it is.”

“Don’t worry honey, we’ll be on our best behavior and who knows. Maybe you’ll let us eat out with you more often.” Sam gave you a cheeky grin.

You gave Sam a confused look, “Right, except we’re eating in. I’ve had enough of people I just want a relaxing night at home.”

“Don’t worry doll, we’ll help you relax.” Bucky winked at you.

You gave them your address and told them to give you an hour. After you picked up more wine at the liquor store, you sent Sam a text to pick up the food and headed back home. When you got home you frantically ran around and cleaned up as best as you could. You changed into some shorts and a tank top just in time to hear knocking at your door. Pulling it open revealed Sam and Bucky leaning against the door jam holding bags of Chinese food. 

“Jeeze guys did you order enough food?” You stepped aside letting them in.

Sam planted a kiss on your forehead and went into the kitchen. “Gotta make sure we get your energy up after you had to deal with two of the most exhausting people all week.”

Bucky followed Sam after pulling you into a hug.”Sam, I think I said earlier that it’s not nice to talk about Emma like that when all she’s trying to do is help you.”

You went into the kitchen to pull wine glasses down from the top shelf. Normally when it was just you, you would drink directly from the bottle. Why dirty another dish? As you reached up on your tiptoes you felt your tanktop slide up your body. After struggling to try to reach the glasses, you felt a warm hand on your exposed hip and a heavy body press behind you.

“If you needed help reaching something honey you could have just asked,” Sam whispered low in your ear as he grabbed the glasses and placed them next to you on the counter.

He released your hip and turned to grab the wine. You were still facing the counter trying to slow your breathing. When you turned around you were face to face with Bucky as he reached behind you to grab the glasses. 

“We kind of need the glasses doll, or are you hoarding them all for yourself?” Bucky leaned forward, caging you against the counter. You heard the faint clinking of the glasses as Bucky grabbed them never once breaking eye contact with you.

“Um yeah, you guys help yourselves I’ll be right back.” 

You ran into the bathroom and splashed water on your face. You had to be imagining things, right? Sam and Bucky who came to professional couples counseling weekly were in your home and getting very close. Did they notice how you looked at them each time they came into the office? You had to have been caught staring at Sam’s ass on more than one occasion with the amount you did it. You lost count of the number of times you had to have Bucky repeat what he just said because you got lost in the low gravel of his voice. The jig was up. They were definitely onto you and they were going to tease you mercilessly for it, you were sure of it.

When you came out of the bathroom Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones. At the creek of the floor under you, they snapped their attention in your direction. They slowly started making their way over to you, their eyes glued to your body.

“Oh sweetheart, were we making you uncomfortable?” Bucky smirked.

“I know Bucky can be intimidating but you didn’t have to go getting all wet on his account.” Sam gestured to your chest.

You tilted your head in confusion and looked down. When you splashed the water on your face you must have overdone it seeing as the entire front of your shirt was soaked through, putting your nipples on full display.

“I am so sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m going to go put on a dry shirt I’ll be right back.”

You ran into your bedroom and quickly sifted through the drawers to find another shirt to wear. As you took off the offensive tank top you heard the door to your room creak open and saw Sam and Bucky watching you.

“You know sugar, Emma had told us to find something we had in common. Something we could do together that we both enjoyed. Called it ‘team-building’,” Sam walked over to you and brushed his fingers over your cheek. 

“We thought she was out of her mind suggesting it. What could we possibly have in common?” Bucky moved behind you, circling his arms around your hips pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

Sam brought his finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his warm brown eyes.

“We finally figured it out. We have you in common. We can’t stop thinking about you and we’ve noticed how you look at us. You want us too right?”

You let out a small whine and nodded, “Yes, I can’t stop thinking about you two.” Bucky smiled into your neck. “Yeah doll? When do you think about us? When you touch yourself?”

His warm breath on your neck made you shiver. Your nipples pebbled and Sam brought his hands to your chest, gently massaging the soft skin. You moaned at the sensation and Sam pinched your nipples intensifying the feeling.

“I think the tin man asked you a question honey, why don’t you answer him?” Sam cooed.

Bucky growled at the statement and you could feel your arousal pool in your panties. 

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I touch myself when I think of you two.”

Sam hooked his fingers in the hem of your shorts pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare to the two men. Bucky gripped your wrists and moved them down to your core. 

“Show us how you touch yourself doll.” Bucky placed nips and kisses along your shoulder.

You started making slow circles on your clit, throwing your head back into Bucky’s chest. You dip one finger inside your wet channel slowly, sighing with relief. As you continue your ministrations Bucky moves his hands over your breast groping them. You were about to add another finger when you felt Sam grip your wrist pulling your hand away from your core. You looked down at him to watch as he took your fingers into his mouth to suck them clean.

“You taste so good, honey.” Sam hummed before he gripped the back of your thigh and lifted it over his shoulder. He held your ass as he pressed his face into your dripping core licking a stripe straight to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves while Bucky continued to leave marks on your neck. Sam added two fingers into you and expertly stroked your sweet spot.

“Come on doll, fall apart for Sam. Cum for him so I can make you scream my name next.” Bucky pinched your nipples and your orgasm rushed through you. 

Sam worked you through your orgasm licking up all your release. When he stood up he stripped off his shirt exposing his chiseled torso. He removed his pants letting his hardened cock slap his stomach. Bucky released you as Sam moved forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You could hear more clothes dropping to the ground and when you turned your head Bucky was on full display, the metal of his arm glimmering in the moonlight. Bucky smoothed his hand across your cheek tilting your face to meet his for a soft kiss. Pushing Sam away from you, Bucky guided you to the bed to lay you down.

“I can’t wait anymore sweetheart I have to feel you around my cock” Bucky lined himself up. Before he could push in, you felt the bed dip and saw Sam stroking himself next to you. You licked your lips and reached for him. Before you reached him, Bucky flipped you on all fours and guided your hips back, his length slowly spearing you. You moaned at the full sensation as Bucky bottomed out stilling for a moment.

Sam positioned himself in front of you, “Come on sugar, I want to see what that mouth can do.” 

You opened your mouth and licked the pre-cum off before wrapping your lips around his length and hollowing out your cheeks. Sam pushed himself in until you felt him touch the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly as he moaned.

“Sam, do that again, she squeezed the shit out of me.” Bucky smacked your ass causing you to move forward taking in more of Sam, humming with satisfaction.

“Shit, I’ll do that again if you keep that up. The mouth on her feels like heaven” 

Bucky started thrusting in and out of you ravenously. Each time your hips met, you took Sam deeper down your throat, drool running out of your mouth coating his cock. Sam pulled your hair causing you to whimper, the sound only spurred both men on. Bucky brought his metal hand down to your clit, pinching it. 

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me doll? Make a mess of my cock.”

You nodded and Sam groaned pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuck sugar, you’re gonna make me cum. Can I cum down your throat?”

You hummed with approval as Sam fucked your throat. You felt hot ropes fill your mouth and you tried to make sure you took everything Sam had to give you. Bucky continued to fuck you as your own orgasm hit you causing you to cry out his name. His hips stuttered as he reached his own release.

“Told ya she’d be screaming my name bird brain.” Bucky teased as you fell onto the mattress.

“Well, that’s because her mouth was full and our girl knows better than to talk with her mouth full, isn’t that right honey.” Sam brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek.

You hummed in contentment completely fucked out. Bucky got up to get a washcloth to clean you up as Sam soothed his fingers down your back. 

“You hungry doll? We did get enough food for a small army and I know you’re gonna need your energy.” Bucky stated nonchalantly. 

You sat up and looked at Bucky with your eyebrows pinched together.

“Why would I need my energy?”

Sam pulled you to his chest, “Oh honey, you didn’t think that was the only round did you?”

[undermattsun-archive]

taste

(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k

a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)

big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3

18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings

warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly

reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY

There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.

But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 

Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.

Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.

“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.

“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 

“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”

A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.

“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.

“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.

“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.

“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.

“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.

“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 

“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 

“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.

“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 

“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 

“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 

If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?

“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.

Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 

It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.

“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.

“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.

“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 

Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 

“Kawa-”

“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.

“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.

“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.

“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 

Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.

“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 

Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 

You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 

“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.

“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.

“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.

“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.

“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.

“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.

“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.

“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 

“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.

“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.

He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.

There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.

“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”

You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.

“Oh? You were right.”

“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 

It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 

“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.

His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 

You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 

“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”

He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.

“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 

You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.

“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.

“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 

For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 

“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.

“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 

Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.

“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.

“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.

“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.

“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.

“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 

“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.

“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.

“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 

“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.

“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.

“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.

“Yeah alright.”

[badassbuchanan]

After Hours

Plot: Ransom always gets his way, even if that means taking what he wants without asking. 

Warnings: smut; non!con, unprotected sex, quickie.

Word count: 1728

A/N: I got very distracted writing my Bucky smut because of this sexy asshole - REQUESTS AND TAG LIST IS OPEN

My clenched fist knocked on the heavy door, only slightly making a sound. It had been a long day at work, but when Ransom requested a meeting with me, it had instantly lifted my mood, even if he had requested the meeting an hour after everyone finished work.

Ransom was the newly appointed manager of Blood Like Wine Publishing, after the retirement of his grandfather and owner of the company, Harlan Thrombey.

Harlan had, to everyone’s surprise, chosen to hand the company over to his wild, rebellious grandson. It had caused a lot of upset within the family after Harlan had announced to the public that Ransom would be taking ownership. “It’s time for Ransom to add a refreshing touch to the family business.” Harlan had told the press at the grand re-opening.

Ransom had been targeted by the media as a wreckless, selfish party animal who slept with whoever he set his eyes on.

I hadn’t seen a lot of Ransom over the duration of the few weeks he’d been here, no one had. He spent most of his time in his office, his head buried in reviewing drafts, determined to prove to everyone that he was the leader the company needed.

“Come in.” His voice called out as I opened the wooden door slowly, immediately noticing Ransom’s intimidating figure standing behind his desk.

The beige knitted sweater he wore hugged his body nicely, he’d never made the change to dress corporately and encouraged us all to dress as we pleased, although I’d chosen to stick with Harlen’s preference of ‘office attire’. He let out a sigh, concentrating on the papers in front of him as he ran his hand with his signet ring through his tossled hair.

“You asked to see me, Sir?” My voice came out as a squeak, walking cautiously towards his desk after shutting the door behind me. The room was silent, which only made me more aware of the sound of my heels against the wooden floor boards.

“Yeah,” His alarming tone notified me that he had been far too preoccupied to notice who had entered his office and most likely forgot our scheduled appointment. “Come over here.”

His natural dominance had my panties glistening, along with the fact that Ransom just happened to be the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.

His blue eyes shone like diamonds, even in the darkness. His lips were pouty, yet gave him a smile like a naughty school boy. The crease between his eyebrows that appeared whenever he concentrated. His thick thighs that sat tight against the dark denim of his jeans. And most importantly, his big, dangerous hands.

I adjusted the bottom of my skirt that sat just above mid-thigh as I walked over to his desk. Noticing the way his hand held a sheet of paper up for him to observe.

There was a record player in the corner of the room that sat next to the window, evidently the item had been either left there by Harlan or something Ransom had purchased to make him look more distinguished, purely for decoration purposes only.

I stopped when I reached his desk, watching him intently as he grabbed his glass of whiskey from beside him, taking a large sip.

Our interactions had always been professional and yet somehow flirtatious at the same time. Simple things like him complimenting my work whilst I mentioned his great style somehow made us feel so electric.

“This side.” Ransom glanced up at me momentarily, his voice was soft, but still made me want to obey any request he sent my way.

I did as I was told, walking around to his side of the desk, standing to look at the papers in front of us as he adjusted himself to stand behind my body.

I could feel the tension begin to build as soon as he came closer. I tried to avoid the way it made me feel to have him so close. Someone so powerful. So in control. So fucking handsome.

“See this?” Ransom asked deeply from behind me, pointing to a document scattered on his mahogany desk. I could feel his crotch against my ass as I rubbed against him testingly.

I leaned over slightly to take a better look at the document, catching Ransom out of the corner of my eye put his whiskey glass down beside us.

That’s when I felt his hand slide up the inside of my bare thigh, bringing my skirt up with it until he reached my panties. I bit my lip, ignoring his action as I nodded, reading over the paper in my hands.

“I need you to review the highlighted paragraphs for me.” He requested as his fingers hooked into the crotch of my panties. My breath came out shaky as a blush covered my cheeks, knowing he’d be able to feel the leaking wetness.

“When do you need it done by?” I asked calmly, hearing the sound of a zipper behind me. I carefully anticipated his next move, having no objection to where this was headed.

“Next Friday,” He responded, slowly pulling my panties down my legs, my ass now on full display for him from where he’d bunched my skirt up around my hips. “That’ll give me time to prepare before the presentation.”

With his last words he pushed his cock inside of me without warning, filling me up. It was a tight push considering my legs were still almost fully shut. But feeling my tightness around him only made Ransom more eager.

He stilled when he was fully sheathed inside of me, his body pressed tightly against my back as I closed in eyes in ecstasy. My breathing shallowed as my pussy drenched his cock that was twitching inside of me.

It was a painful stretch, but one that I welcomed. My mouth hung open slightly as an ache shot through my pussy. I couldn’t help but wiggle my hips open slightly to allow him more access.

Ransom groaned so softly that I almost missed it, his ring clad hand digging into my hips as he made a slow move of pulling out until it was just his tip in me.

I licked my lips and leaned forward slightly towards the desk, arching my back. Ransom then slowly began moving back in me, stopping momentarily when he was inside me before repeating the action.

He moved at a painfully slow speed, but he was too invested in watching where his cock disappeared inside of me. His eyebrows furrowed and his nostrils flared with arousal, his jaw clenched.

I bit my lip, trying not to break the silence that filled the room, with the exception of my wetness. I couldn’t believe how aroused he had me just from his cock being inside of me.

Ransom continued at his agonising pace, letting out small grunts every time he bottomed out inside of me. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me, his balls tapping against me slightly with every thrust.

Ransom’s breath was hot on my neck as his hands wrapped around my body, hugging my ass against his cock. There was a sharp pain in my core, his cock deep inside me as he began thrusting faster, our hips moving in sync as he pounded me against his desk.

I clenched around him, my orgasm hitting me by surprise. I let out slight cries, trying to stay quiet as my clit rubbed against the wooden desk. Ransom’s hand laid flat on my stomach, pushing me back against him harder as he spurted his cum deep inside of me with a final moan.

His breathing quickened, his hands squeezing my hips as I expectantly waited for him to pull out, but he didn’t. He stayed burried deep inside of me. I whimpered softly, feeling so sensitive as he tried to catch his breath.

I leaned back against him more, his chest firmly against my back as I took advantage at the feeling of his warm cock inside me.

When he did finally pulled out, I sighed, feeling empty. I pulled my panties back up my legs, hearing him zip his pants back up. I adjusted my skirt, tugging it back to its usual position before scrambling to grab the papers we’d earlier discussed.

“I’ll have these on your desk by next Friday, as requested, Mr Drysdale.” I said slightly uncomfortable with the fact that Ransom hadn’t said a word.

“Y/N,” Ransom called out to me as I reached the door, causing me to turn around and notice how fucked out he looked. “Call me Ransom, yeah?”

——————— a few days later ————————

“Wait what?” Y/F/N almost completely brought the car to a standstill on the busy road. Her head whizzed around to give me a wide eyed, baffled look after I’d just told her my boss fucked me.

“He just kind of, put it in?” I tried to recall the exact circumstances which lead to the situation, all of which made sense at the time but now seemed to escape me.

“Without mentioning it? Without talking?” She shook her head, baffled by the situation I’d found myself in.

“No, of course we were talking. Just..not about fucking.” I squinted, knowing none of what I was saying sounded logical out loud.

“How the f-“

“I don’t know!” I whined in confusion, covering my face with my hands as I slouch back into the car seat. “You just had to have been there I guess.”

“Please don’t tell me you let him cum inside you.” She says with reservations, knowing me too well.

My silence said it all. “For fuck sake, Y/N! What if you get pregnant?”

“I don’t know!” I whined loudly, my mind whirling with possible scenarios. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Y/F/N chuckled as she drove, shaking her head. “So have you spoken to him since?”

“No, I’ve obviously seen him around, but we haven’t talked about what happened.” I admitted shyly, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like an idiot who’d been used by her boss.

“Well, I don’t think that’ll last forever.” She said matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows.

She was right. It wouldn’t last forever. I’d eventually have to face the repercussions of my, well our actions. I’d eventually have to come face to face with Ransom. After all, he was my boss.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

[secondhand-trash]

Decadence

A/N: I felt a sudden dash of inspiration at 2am and this is the result lmao

Descrption: Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. 

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, if you are reading a toji fic I’m just going to assume you have read the manga, smoking, mentions of drinking, not exactly a happy piece of writing 

Word count: 2620

Playlist:

Cigarettes//Russian Red

-

Sometimes you just laid there and stared at the ceiling after you woke up, the tender rhythm of your breathing echoing back to you through your eardrums reminding you that you were still alive no matter how much it didn’t felt that way.

They said there’s a weight to your soul, but right now you just felt nothing.

There was a special type of letting yourself go called waking up when the sun was shining bright outside, the blinding shine breaking through your cheap curtains. You had just woken up but you wanted to go back to sleep again, yet the heaviness in your head almost alluring to what having a fever felt like forced your eyes awake. 

You had no choice, or rather, no motivation to do anything but stay put right where you were, on the thin mattress that you took from the previous tenant who lived next door (”What?” you clicked your tongue at the above you man who paused as he slammed your back down on the bed, it was not comfortable and he most definitely felt that one spring stabbing at his knee, “it’s free.”). There was a stain at the corner of your tiny room, probably because the kitchen fan forcefully installed on the wall was not doing its job. The greasiness lingered in the air every time you tried to cook anything, making you sick in the stomach when you buried your face on your pillow that was just a few steps away from your stove. 

You gave up cooking soon entirely, it was not like there was anyone you could eat with anyways.

Fushiguro Toji came and went as he pleased, showing up at your door with a few cans of beer and a pack of cigarette whenever he was in the mood like he did not disappear without a word after the last time you saw him.

You didn’t ask where he had been or where was he before he was here at your place, you knew this was why he always came back to you. 

Just like how you never asked him, or yourself for that matter, whether any of this meant a thing.

“Don’t smoke here,” you said with your arms crossed in front of your chest, your back to the door as he tilted his frame to pass through your doorframe that seemed ridiculously small with him under it, “took me days to get rid of the smell last time.”

Sometimes he came every few days, mostly you would see him waiting under the lamp post at the corner of your block every other week. There was one time when you did not see him for a good few years. You were certain he had died, he had business enough people for it to not be a surprise to anyone. You could not say a word when you came back and saw him crouching in front of your door with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, toying the lighter in his palm. He was staring ahead but not focusing on anything, looking so out of place in the middle of the thin corridor of your apartment building.

It was also the one and only time you had felt the urge to ask him if he was okay, you refrained.

instead, you gave his frame a push with your heel. He did not budge, like you did nothing but gave him a tap on his shoulder and looked up. “You look like shit, Zenin.”

Where have you been? You swallowed the words that were so close to the tip of your tongue back down to your stomach together with the knot at the back of your throat.

He only shook his head as he stood up, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and took a breath that would have been a drag. “No,” you had no idea what had gotten into him, “Fushiguro.”

He did not sleep with you that night, but you did let him smoke in your tiny little flat.

To this day, you still had no idea what made him show up at your door again.

“Hm,” you were not sure if he was really answering you when he slummed down at the foot of your mattress. It was a talent how he acted like he had never left, like this was his spot as he leaned back with one palm holding him up and cracking a can of beer open with another. You always had a fascination with how easy he made it look, one crock of his index finger and you could hear the foam rushing out, “you want one?”

The smashed cans were still laying on the small table at the corner of your room. It was your dining table, writing desk and bedside table all at once, you hoped you did not spill anything on it last night. The half-gone pack of cigarettes was next to your bed, the joints sliding off of each other in the stack it was in. 

There was an ashtray next to it and it was really just a centerpiece when Toji was not here. You had refused to get one for the longest time, but gave in after you realised the only difference it would make was that the burnt out tobacco would be in your kitchen sink or somewhere it should be. The one he had lit up when he finally crawled off of your tired body begrudgingly was roughly put out on the glass, bent into half and somewhat intact.

Shamefully, you did not have nearly as much distaste for his addiction as much as you protested it. You could not deny that it was a picture when he leaned against the only window in your flat, his back to you in all his glory as the spark lit up and cast a warm glow to your ceiling. He sounded calm when he took the first drag, a soft hum following the inhale as white smoke blended into the dark of the Tokyo sky. It was never really quiet out there, and sometimes you would hear the cars running by the highway at a distance or the people with a home they refused to return to shouting down the streets. All with the swirls coming out of his lips, his shoulder easing down slowly with each puff.

Sometimes you wondered if you should be like the girls you saw in films, reaching out for the brooding man looking out their window and ask them to come back to bed sweetly. Perhaps you should act more lovable, like someone that would giggle into their lover’s chest when they did come back with a gruff.

The thought made your skin crawl, and you turned to your side until you could not see his frame before poking your tongue out in disgust.

That was not the way things worked with you two.

You had no idea what time it was but you guessed that it could not be early. The shadow that cut diagonally on the wall had already gotten defined, the sharp black border moving slowly across the oxidized wallpaper. Occasionally, in midst of the silence, you could it each time a train drove in and out of the station. The railway being near your apartment was the only thing good about it, but it also meant that each click on the tracks pounded into your ear like piles driving into your brain.

Tuk. Tuk. Tuk.

The room was starting to feel stuffy and hot, the body next to yours on your crowded mattress did not help at all. Toji usually left first thing in the morning, either that or he would not stay the night at all. You could not remember when was the last time you woke up next to him, but it was almost always followed by a long period of him being out of your sight. The thin blanket felt tiny trying to cover his large frame, the fabric pulled taut with you refusing to give up on it. It was your blanket on your bed in your house, who was he to hog it? 

You felt the temptation to reach out and trace the faded cut slashed down his lips with them parted just slightly, a rare serenity on his face. His lashes were long, that was another thing you had picked up on as you just watched. You could imagine him to be a beautiful man, before the scares and the scrawl and the smell of smoke lingering in his breath.

Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. Do not ask where he had been, the only thing you would get is your own reflection in his eyes. He was not your cat, never. You doubted that strays could truly adapt to domesticity.

Or rather, you never had the guts to see what would happen if you trap them down.

Instead, you watched, watched as the cat elegantly yawned and stretched its limbs out like the tyrant it was.

The blanket slid off his chest when he moved, showing you the many scars littering all over his skin. Scratches did nothing compared to all the other ones that darted over his frame like badges, you gave up trying to leave a trace anywhere on him a long time ago. One hook of your leg around his waist caught his attention and he yanked you by the arm to place you on his chest, not forgetting to slide his palm down your waist under he was cupping the swell of your hips.

‘Tsk’, you wanted to snicker, ‘skillful.’

“You wanna fuck again?” he quirked one eyebrow up, his tone sounding more like a question than an invite by any means.

“Huh...” the nasal in your voice was apparent as you laid your head on his firm muscles. 

And it was not like you had never wanted to make him stay past the few moments he was with you in the rare hours of daylight you spent together, you were just certain things would get messy whether he did as you asked or not.

Afternoons in bed were lazy, slow, sticky and hard to peel your hands away.

That just wasn’t what this was supposed to be.

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked, as always.

“I do, actually.” 

You lifted your head to look at him in, “But the horse races are not open today.”

He gave your ass a slap, and you gasped before trying to hit him back.

“Surprise, surprise, I’m working again,” the corner of his lips tugged up into a lazy smirk at your irritation, “someone contacted me, I’m going to see what they are offering today.”

You blinked.

“Are you taking it?” you asked, carefully.

He shrugged, before giving where he smacked down a condescending pat before sliding you off of him. 

“Who knows,” he rolled his arms back, the defined edges of his biceps flexing as he cracked his neck, “depends on how much they are paying me.”

So he would be gone for god knows how long again, lovely. You gave yourself a subtle nod of acknowledgement at how you saw this coming. 

He strode to the side to pick up his clothes that were littered across the floor, and your gaze followed him as he went to your table last.

If he was just a regular man you happened to bring home, you would roll your eyes at him for not at least shoving the beer cans into the trash as he took his shirt from the pile.

You tucked your arm under your pillow as you watched his fingers took one out of the box swiftly, feeling your body sink down the ill-quality mattress.

It was always at this point that the rush to ask him to stay would surface. But you would never try to do that, obviously.

‘When will I see you again?’ you were almost tempted to ask when he had one hand on the doorknob, but you weren’t sure if this was something he could give you an answer to.

So you said what you always say when he was about to disappear from your life again, with a smile as you bury your face deeper into your pillow.

“Try not to die.”

-

There was a daunting feeling that this was it. 

But again, the thought always plagued you during these blank periods.

Something at the back of your head told you that something went wrong. Maybe he died, you savoured the taste of these words on your tongue as you laid flat on your bed. After all, no one could say it was a surprise if he truly got killed on the job out there. He never really told you too much about what he did for a living. You figured out the gambling part on your own, and the scars on his skin warned you against asking further. 

Your relationship, if there ever was one, relied heavily on neither of you caring about each other enough to want to know more than the way he liked you to take his shirt off for him and the spot behind your ear was sensitive. There was a moment when you wondered if you had, or ever was in love with Fushiguro Toji. Back when he was still Zenin Toji, or when you felt the drop of your heart as he casually told you the change in his family name. 

It would be a travesty if you did.

The pack of cigarettes he forgot to take with him was still laying exactly where he left it, together with the lighter that was tugged into the cap. You had never smoked, one thing that he always made fun of you for. You did not like the smell and could barely imagine what it tasted like. 

You only liked it when you were the one watching him do it.

The tiny stick felt strange on between the pads of your finger, and you awkwardly mimicked the way you had seen him do it all these times. A forceful shove of the window sent a current of wind into your flat, the breeze tickling your cheek as you let your head fell back and took a deep breath.

Like someone waiting for their cat to come home.

Your body hung out of the window with one arm on the frame. The lighter did not work until the third click, and you stared as the end of the cigarette slowly started to glow under the flame.

The pungent smell made you furrow your eyebrows together and you clicked your tongue. The sun was starting to sink in a distance and the white smoke was all the more visible under the bright orange sun. You lifted your hand up to the sun, and tipped it like you would at a toast.

This was for you.

One inhale sent you coughing, and your eyes teared up at the unfamiliar sting at the back of your throat.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed, slamming down on the window frame as you sucked in a deep breath to wash the feeling away.

If he ever showed up again, you thought to yourself as you violently put off the cigarette on the ashtray, you were definitely questioning him what was so good about this.

-

You did not see him for a long, long time after that.

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Same Old Mistakes

Summary: Lee Bodecker is jealous of your new relationship with Arvin Russell

Pairings: Modern Day! Arvin Russell x reader, Modern Day! Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: manipulation, age gap (reader is in college 20), cheating , dub con, unprotected sex, degrading language, dark themes, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ or these warnings make you uncomfortable.

Author’s note: this is kind of a sequel to my other one shot Party Favors from my old account. You don’t really have to read it though to understand. Anyways, someone commented the reader should fuck Arvin & well I put my own twist on it because I love Lee way too much.

It’s been a month since Sheriff Bodecker was called to stop your party. You wished you could erase the memories from the night. Lee always had a soft spot for you but you took his kindness for granted.

In exchange for not getting turned in for your noise complaint, you had to get on your knees for the Sheriff. To think the sheriff would even care about you or even your pleasures was a silly idea. He cares about one thing and one thing only. Controlling everyone in the town. But, that was a month ago. You stayed clear from misconduct, you didn’t want to see his face ever again.

Now, you were somewhat happy. You were finally interested in someone around your age. His name was Arvin Russell. Everyday after class, he waited for you in his old beat up truck. Arvin didn’t go to college but you didn’t mind. He had small jobs here and there where he would even save some of his money to buy you small things. It was his way of showing that he really liked you. Maybe, you could see yourself falling for him...

“Got your s’ favorite” Arvin announced in his Southern accent that you loved. He had a cheeky smile as he took out a sandwich from his metal lunchbox. A new meal was always waiting for you after class.

You smiled brightly, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Arvin pouted softly as he pointed to his lips and you chuckled giving him a kiss on the lips which he rightly deserved.

“You’re the best, Arvin!” you pressed another kiss to his nose. A tint of red started to cover his ears. He truly was one of the sweetest boys you met in town. You cherished it.

But, he wasn’t just sweet. He also knew how to woo a girl in bed...

“Holy fuck—!” You moaned, your eyes rolled back as Arvin pounded into you. The headboard colliding with the wall with every thrust. Arvin had a smirk plastered on his face. This was his favorite thing to do. Pleasure you.

“atta girl... doing so good for me...” he mumbled against your lips, his thumb swiping against your clit as his hips rutted into you. He grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders creating a even more pleasurable experience.

“You close, my pretty girl—? Gunna cum for me, yeah?” Your hands pulled onto his locks and your mouth widened without a sound signaling your release as Arvin grunted heavily. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself in the condom and pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed. The condom thrown into the nearby trash can.

He pulled your sweaty body onto his, he watched as you panted against his chest. His heart swelled from the effect you had on him.

“I want you to be my girl for real...” he finally whispered softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. You looked up at him.

“Like— your girlfriend?”

“Mmhm—“ he mumbled and you smiled brightly, leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

As Lee Bodecker parked his car at the gas station, he saw a couple in a car not too far from where he was. The two shadows talked for a moment before they kissed each other on the nose. He couldn’t quite make out who they were but he figured it was young love. He rolled his eyes, until he noticed something. His eyes squinted and he moved his seat up, until his belly pressed against the wheel. It was you.

“Here, get yourself something. We still got a few hours left.” Arvin insisted handing you money.

“Baby... I can buy it on my own, it’s fine” you protested pushing his hand away slightly. He shook his head.

“Please. I don’t mind... how about you order us two hot sandwiches, so then you don’t feel so bad” you sighed heavily, looking down at the money in his hand.

“Fine but this is the last time, babe.”

Arvin hushed you softly, settling the money in your palm. He kissed the bridge of your nose and then your lips. The act itself warming you from within.

“I gotta pump the gas and fill the tires which is going take a while. See you in 15. Now go on.” You nodded and settled out of the car, walking into the convenient store.

You looked around the store. Arvin did say you would be on the road for some time. Everything looked good but you really didn’t want to waste all of his money. As you continued to look, the store doorbell rung signaling a new costumer had arrived.

Lee Bodecker walked into the store with a new sense of confidence. The girl who had been ignoring him for weeks had finally crossed paths with him again. He tilted his hat at the store manager before he walked towards you.

He found himself sliding into the same aisle where you were in. You were two busy bending down and looking at different flavors of chips to notice his presence behind you. His eyes roamed your backside and he bit his lip at the curve of your ass. If only he could push himself right against it.

You turned around to head into the next aisle but you collided into a taller figure. The chips in your hand fell onto the ground. You quickly scrambled to pick them up but a hand stopped you.

“No need Y/N... the pleasure is mine” you could recognize the accent from miles away.

Your heart practically stopped as you stood up to meet eyes with Lee who casually winked at you. That was the problem with the sheriff. He sweet talked you, then used you, and then did it all over again.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. Seems like you are doing everything in your power to not get into trouble...” he chuckled darkly, his eyes stayed on yours.

“Uh- yeah. I guess you can say that. Trouble is just not my thing anymore” you shrugged, looking around the store trying your best to ignore him.

Other customers continued to shop. They didn’t mind the presence of the sheriff.

“I bet.” Lee continued.

“You know... we never talked about that night between us.” You stopped in your tracks as Lee said those words. Memories from a month ago rushing back.

“Shit, you move on quick. Already sucking another man’s cock, huh?” He bended slightly to whisper in your ear just enough for you to hear. His lips grazed against your ear ever so slightly which made you shudder.

You quickly stepped away from him. Your relationship with Arvin was fairly new. He couldn’t have possibly known.

“What are you talking about?!”

“I saw you and Arvin in the car just now” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Congratulations... but he’s uh- a handful” Lee joked, his jaw clenching. You turned on your heel but Lee grabbed your arm tightly. Almost to the point of a potential bruise.

“Lee, stop. You’re hurting me...” you sneered through your teeth. He looked around the store before he grabbed you to the back and pulled you into the store’s bathroom, quickly locking the two of you in there.

“Lee-! You can’t just-! I have to go to back to Arvin!” You pushed his slightly protruding belly, trying to make your way to the door but he pulled you back.

“First off, it’s sheriff to you now. And second of all you don’t leave until I’m done talking to you. Or we can have a repeat from the party. You hear me?” He threatened, his eyes much darker from when he first greeted you.

You gulped lightly, throwing your hands to the side. Protesting wouldn’t get you anywhere. Just let him talk and you’ll be within Arvin’s arms in a few.

“Did you tell him about us?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What? No. Why would I do that?” Lee laughed softly, taking off his sheriff’s hat and running his fingers through his hands.

There was nothing to tell Arvin. But, Lee thought otherwise. He pushed you back against the wall, as you stared up at him.

“Because if I was him, I would want to know that my girl goes around sucking the sheriff’s dick and then begs him to fuck her”

“T-that was one time... and it was the p-past...” his words hit you one after the other. He was shaming you for an act he manipulated you into doing. Tears started to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You were a good person. You deserved Arvin. Lee just loved playing the role of the knight in shining armor who pretended to fix your bad behavior every single time.

“Just the past” he repeated with an uncertainty in his voice. His thumb pressed against your lips like old times but you turned your head.

He rolled his eyes at your actions.

“You were such a bad girl. But, who always left you off with a warning? Hmmm? Any other sheriff would have thrown you in the back of the cop car, while you wait for mommy and daddy to pick you up!”

His hands roamed your body as he continued to speak.

“You avoided me for a whole month because you knew you wanted me and you were afraid” he sighed heavily, glaring at you.

Maybe. He was right. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet at least.

“Arvin... really, Y/N?” Lee sighed, pushing away from you in disbelief.

“I like him, Sheriff. He’s a good person. He treats me right. He actually likes me and takes care of me!” You pleaded as your eyes followed him as he paced along the small bathroom.

A tear slipped against your cheek. The doorknob was so close, you could make a run if you were fast enough.

“Do you love him?” He questioned, a hint of jealousy present in his tone.

“I-I don’t know...” Lee turned around and placed himself back on you.

“I can make you feel so much better than he can...” his nose pressed against your neck, as his hands grabbed your waist.

The attraction you had for Lee was still here. It almost made you feel sick inside. If he really cared for you, he wouldn’t do this. But, his words were messing with you. A voice in your head even tried to convince you to listen to him.

“Y/N, let me show what I should have done on the night of the Halloween party” his lips ghosted over yours and pressed onto you softly. He deepened the kiss and you allowed it at first.

Lee Bodecker was finally kissing you. Something you craved for the longest. But, it felt wrong. You struggled and pushed him away.

“Stop—!” You were out of breath as you took a beeline towards the door but Lee grabbed your hair and yanked you back.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” He barked, and you winced in pain at his grip. When he heard your whine, he reluctantly let go but kept his arm around your body.

“I’m in a r-relationship, sheriff!” You stammered, scared to even look him in the eyes. Lee tilted your chin up, his eyes now softer. He had to think of his next actions carefully.

He was playing his favorite game on you.

“God, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away” his arms cradled you in his embrace. His lips kissed your temple. His manners switched instantly. He knew playing the role of the bad wolf wouldn’t win you over.

“I care for you so much, darlin’ and Arvin... he’s not the one for you. He’s done a lot of bad things” Lee said softly, his thumb wiped your tears and cupped your face. If you were going to believe anything, you’d believe Lee & his job.

You raised an eyebrow. Arvin never expressed his wrongdoings. Yeah, he beat up a few bullies from school but they deserved it. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so uncomfortable in Lee’s embrace. Lee noticed this as your posture softened.

This was his chance.

“Really? Like what?”

“Oh, darlin’ if I tell ya— you’ll be scared of the poor boy. I don’t want that.” He informed, his lips pressed against your forehead again.

He was reeling you in with every word. This time you actually felt butterflies in your stomach.

If Arvin was a bad man, as the sheriff explained, then maybe Lee was actually protecting you.

“Please, sheriff... Please, tell me—” His eyes widened at your pleas. Something in him awakened. His cock stirred in his pants, a hard on soon to form. You sounded like an angel to him. He wished you would beg some more.

“You really wanna know—“ he teased, his hands falling to your sides, down your back, and right before your ass. You nodded, pushing into him some more. He bit his lip, his cock straining against his trousers.

“Well, he’s good with his Luger pistol, I’ll tell you that—“ he half joked. Lee tested the waters and suddenly put his hands on your ass. To his surprise, you didn’t move away. It’s not like you didn’t feel his hands either. You were just too busy, caught up in wanting to know more. But, it also did feel good, which you didn’t dare to admit.

He wanted to just bend you over the bathroom sink and have his way already. Just a few more lines and he’d be there.

“Remember that pastor in town who passed away a while ago—“

You nodded recollecting the only town’s gossip. You never went to church, but you remembered hearing the death on the television. It was one of the only major events that happened in Knockemstiff. Lee’s hands squeezed your ass softly and then wandered up your shirt.

“W-what does the pastor have to with a-anything?” You mumbled, holding in your moans at Lee’s actions. His hands cupped your covered breasts and began to grope them. In one swift movement, your bra was off and Lee was pinching your nipples. You gasped, arching yourself towards him.

“Shhh... getting to the best part. Just listen.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses against your neck and you finally moaned. Victory. Lee even started to get carried away and grinded against you.

You knew how wrong this was. It was overwhelming. If Arvin ever found out what was taking place, he’d leave you. This had to stay a secret.

“You’re taking too long!” you whined, feeling the sheriff’s hands and body engulf you. Although it was turning you on, you had to get back to Arvin.

“What did I just say? Don’t rush me” he bellowed, as he shoved two fingers in your mouth. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. He’s done this before at the night of the party. You played along with him and swirled your tongue around his digits.

You just needed to know what Arvin did. You had to see if he was worth it. But, you were surely testing Lee’s patience. He needed your pussy now.

“Turns out your precious boyfriend was a part of the murder...” he popped his fingers out your mouth, already undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed your clit with his soaked fingers. You bit your lip, throwing your head back and Lee chuckled at your body’s response. He turned your body around, the two of you now looking into the mirror.

“What?”

“Your little boyfriend killed the pastor.” Lee’s eyes studied yours as they widened through mirror. He nodded, moving your hair away from your neck. His fingers danced against the skin, goosebumps forming.

“T-that can’t be true-“ you murmured, as Lee began to place sloppy wet kisses over your exposed skin.

Arvin Russell was a good man. If he killed someone, there had to be a good reason.

One thing Lee was good at was creating his own version of the truth.

Your thoughts were clouded from Lee’s actions. It was all too much, but you couldn’t push away from Lee even if you wanted to.

“Well, start believing darlin’— you need a real man. Someone who is gunna take care of ya— That boy just gunna mess with your damn head...” The next thing you heard was the sound of the sheriff’s belt being unbuckled and his pants dropping. You sucked in a breath, already knowing what would happen next. There was no need to turn around.

“You’re not gunna run away now, are you?” He teased, as his cock ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. You gasped lightly biting down on your lip, shaking your head.

“That’s a good girl. Now, hold on, sheriff’s gunna make you feel real good.” He smirked motioning you to hold onto the sink as he slowly entered you. Your hands tightened around the sink as you moaned at how thick he was.

“Fuck!” You both announced as Lee fully bottomed out holding onto your hips. His thrusts quickly falling into a steady pace, as he pulled your hair back.

“So tight and wet-! Whose this pussy belong to huh?” His hand fell onto your right cheek, and then your left, until it made a type of red shade. It was the right amount of pain and pleasure.

You wanted to say his name but your mind kept drifting to Arvin. He was probably worried sick. 15 minutes definitely had already passed.

Lee scoffed as if he somehow could read your thoughts. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Lee spat, his voice was deeper, almost animalistic.

“My cock is in this dirty cunt—! Not him!” Before you could reply he slapped your ass with a stronger force.

“It belongs to you!” you whimpered, tears falling from your eyes. He groaned, his lips sucking and licking against your neck. He was close but he wanted you to cum with him. His fingers once again giving your clit attention which was a little too harsh.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, slowly but surely the only one on your mind was Lee and how good his cock felt around you.

“God, I’m going to make you my little whore. Your pretty face and cunt stuffed with my cock whenever I like, say yes” He grunted, his fingers digging into your hips and to his surprise you wiggled your ass against him. Even clenched around him. You were too lost in the ecstasy. He’s got you now.

“Yes—! Yes, I’ll be your whore!” you practically begged, humiliated by your words but it felt too good.

“Going to fill this cunt up now— and tomorrow and the day after that. You’ll love it.“ he grunted through his teeth.

“Please—!” You moaned, the only sounds consisted of heavy panting and his cock pounding in and out of you. The mirror already fogged.

“Cum with me!” He groaned, his final thrust helping you reach your orgasm. Moments later, Lee was stilling inside you and painting your walls which felt like forever, some of his cum seeping down your thighs.

He leaned over and wiped down the mirror. Your appearance was much messier from when you got there. Tear stained cheeks, make up ruined, & messy hair. You looked horrible but to Lee you looked like a doll. The sight already making his cock hard again.

He turned you around and lifted you up on the sink. “Mine” he observed, the coldness from the sink made you wince. Lee propped your mouth open and spat inside.

“Swallow.” And you gladly did as he pulled you into a forceful kiss, teeth and tongue clashing. His hands played with your breasts as the two of you moaned in pleasure.

He officially ruined you... and claimed you.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked one final time as he broke the sloppy kiss, saliva disconnecting from yours and his mouth.

“You... sheriff.” He nodded proudly, grabbing his boxers and trousers from the floor, and dressed himself. He picked up your panties and stuffed them into his pocket. You began to protest but he hushed you.

“You’ll get these back after you leave him... Don’t keep me waiting, honey.” Lee announced sternly, kissing you again and then leaving you alone in the bathroom.

Your propped yourself off the sink, your legs shakily going over to grab your jeans to put them on quickly. You splashed some water on your face but it didn’t change anything. Your hair covered your new forming hickies but it couldn’t take away your post sex look.

You nervously opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main area of the store. The store was quiet and the sheriff was already gone.

“Baby—! There you are—“ Arvin’s voice startled you from behind as he hurried over to you and pulled you into his arms. His hands cupping your face. “What happened?” He questioned, concern written all over his face.

“I was in the bathroom I-uh- have a really bad stomach ache. I don’t know. It came out of nowhere...” you mumbled, holding onto your stomach. Somehow trying to convince him that was the reason for your horrible appearance. He signed in relief, rocking your body back and forth.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home...”

Arvin was oblivious. Maybe, he was too in love and just believed anything that came out of your mouth. You were thankful for that. His hands interlaced with yours, as you both walked out the store, a limp in your step.

The sheriff’s car was parked in the front just like he said he would. He told you in the bathroom he would wait for you.

Most importantly, To leave Arvin.

The two of you locked eyes. The sight in front of him filled him up with jealousy. He saw the way you were limping. Proudly, caused by him. But here you were laced hand in hand with Arvin.

If you weren’t going to leave him, then Lee would take matters into his own hands. The sheriff stepped out his car, stopping you & Arvin. His hands on his hips as he tilted his hat up.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?” Arvin asked, holding you close.

“Just need to have a few words with Miss Y/N at my office. Something about her family came up. Won’t be too long and nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take her home to you— later” he drawled out the last words, his eyes filled with anger and his jaw clenched, you were in for it.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Worst Idea Ever [Part Four]

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?

Part FourSummary → Y/N takes Bucky to a place from her past, meeting people that he never imagined Y/N to be friends with and someone else from her past tries to come back into her life.

Word Count → 3k.

Part Two Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, jealousy, illusion to sexy things. Two idiots.

Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Series Taglist  → Open, just drop me an ask!

A/N → And once again, I wrote the first draft and left it in my docs like I’d posted it... thank you @whitestarbucky​ for being late to the party and reminding me that I actually hadn’t posted it.

Series List // Marvel List // Masterlist

Previously in Part Three: He sunk back into the pillow, his hand dragging down his face. Bucky wasn’t sure what the billionaire genius was referring to, but he felt guilty for whatever Y/N had to witness of him and Jackie. He thought going home with someone else would help quash his feelings but now that he was sober, he knew that it was a stupid idea. He only felt guilt and remorse for what had happened the previous night.

Hooking up with a woman in front of Y/N was the worst idea ever.

The breeze from the rental car window was just enough to keep Y/N alert as she drove the last stretch of their five-hour journey, well maybe a bit longer if you counted going through the whole airport process. Y/N had felt tense the second she met Bucky at JFK and the thought of being confined to a small space that was thousands of feet in the air.

Y/N didn’t want to talk about how things had become uncomfortable after Peter and Gwen’s rehearsal dinner. She was embarrassed but she also had avoided the subject completely when she met him the next day for the wedding. Bucky’s familial duties took him away from her which, to her benefit, meant that she hardly saw him. 

The celebration was enjoyable but there was an annoying voice in the back of her head telling her to talk to Bucky about everything. But she couldn’t, he was her friend of over a decade. Plus, now that they were on their way to another wedding, it had already been three weeks since they last saw each other. 

Bucky had probably forgotten about the incident, and he was too drunk to see that he and Jackie hurt her. She should just brush it under the carpet, right?

The journey wasn’t as bad as Y/N thought; she was able to lose herself in her book or the music playlist that Nat had sent to her a few days ago. ‘Perfect for long journeys’, she’d said. All the while, Bucky lounged in the seat beside her, reading on his kindle or chatting about the usual nonsense that was his dating life.

It was as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed, and Y/N knew that she was just overthinking the possibility of them crossing the line of friendship. It was only a side effect of their fake dating arrangement and being in romantically charged places.

The motel parking lot gravel crunched under the tyres as Y/N pulled in. Relief flooded her and she sluggishly climbed out, stretching her arms high and shaking out her legs. The freedom from the cramped space behind the wheel didn’t alleviate heaviness in her muscles and all that she craved was a nap.

Bucky headed to the reception to pick up the key, and within minutes they were able to access the room, and Y/N instantly flopped face-first onto the bed. Kicking her shoes off and shuffling up the mattress, she pulled the side of the duvet and rolled over into a cocoon and let the nap take hold of her.

Bucky clambered through the door with Y/N’s luggage as well as his own, muttering to himself about her being a lazy pain in his ass. But when he saw her peacefully sleeping form on the bed, he couldn’t help but smile. The way she had cocooned herself in the covers, and how her soft snores puffed out her lips; it was adorable.

Then the guilt reared its head. He’d tried to approach the subject of the rehearsal dinner at the airport but from the tension in her body and the intense focus on reading her book, he knew that she wouldn’t talk. She was embarrassed, and he would have been too if he’d been caught with a sex toy at a rehearsal dinner.

Deep down, he knew something else was bothering Y/N. She was too focused on the road ahead instead of listening to his woeful attempts at dating. His thoughts kept reverting to the moment he kicked Jackie out after awaking to Y/N’s text messages; he felt like he’d upset Y/N, disappointed her but wasn’t that what this was all about? They were being one another’s company until they found someone they wanted to date. That’s what this was.

Since Peter’s wedding, fond moments Bucky had shared with Y/N had started to dance behind his eyes. Their shared memories from over the years playing on repeat at night. Making breakfast together while the rest of their friends groaned about their hangovers in the other room, the candid way she’d grab his prosthetic arm and he always felt a rush of warmth when he realised that once again, it didn’t bother her. 

That was before all the technological adaptations to connect to his nervous system. She touched his arm like it was real. And once those adaptations were made, Bucky felt her tender touch and the soft skin of her palm. He felt at ease, calm, at peace even, with her compared to the rest of the people in his life, the world. He was whole with her.

A horn blasted in the parking lot and caught Bucky’s attention before he refocused on Y/N’s sleeping form. Bucky wasn’t sure about his feelings anymore, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of their pact or whether Y/N felt something more. He could be just imagining it. She had never judged him, had always been by his side at college. 

They were partners in crime, as thick as thieves. And since then, they’d drifted into a more casual friendship but maybe there could be something there. Stop it. He berated and carried on unloading the car, focused intently on collecting their belongings.

Y/N felt better than before but she still felt drowsy, and the flickering television showing an old western film lulled her further into the bed. Absentmindedly, she pulled Bucky’s arm around her shoulder and nuzzled into his chest. The smell of his cologne added to the comfort she already found herself in, then she realised what she had done.

Now that she was there, she didn’t know what to do, she was frozen in place. She could remove her arms from his waist, or maybe pretend she was still asleep and roll away again. The embarrassment tingled at her cheeks and the feel of his toned stomach under her forearm made her core ache with want. She snapped out of it when she felt Bucky shuffle away from her.

“Erm, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned at her, seriousness in his features.

“It’s just a hug, I’m half asleep, chill out.” Y/N pretended to not let the hurt of rejection show and put it back onto Bucky, “Do you not like cuddles or something?”

Bucky unfurled his arm and shook his head at her, “I don’t wanna cuddle you.” 

Y/N sighed dramatically and flopped back onto bed dramatically, “Fine, don’t crawl over to me when it gets cold in here tonight.”

Bucky had lied, he did like cuddles. He wanted to cuddle Y/N with every fibre of his being. He didn’t want to get used to it, to the feel of Y/N’s warm body pressed against him, only to have it be taken away. He didn’t want to miss her touch once he had been graced with it. He wasn’t good enough for her, anything more than friendship wouldn’t work. It surely couldn't?

He turned off the television and decided to leave her to sleep in peace. He knew for certain that the next time she woke up, she’d be cranky because she hadn’t eaten. With the fear of Y/N throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old, he headed out into the town to find some food for the drama queen.

Bucky threw on his jacket and grabbed the keys, Y/N’s phone flashing drew his attention. A notification: an envelope with Dean bolded beside it. He knew that he wouldn’t read it, no matter how tempting the voices in the back of his head were telling him to see what had happened since Y/N and Dean’s rendezvous at Darcy’s wedding.

Bucky, annoyed at the taunting notification, he knew Y/N’s password, it was the same for everything and he’d constantly scolded her for that. But he’d never invade her privacy. And right now, he needed to get out of the room. It was stifling and it felt like the walls had closed in around him. Y/N’s soft snores had become irritating as the recurring feeling of jealousy took over and he stormed out of the room.

A group of large men covered in tattoos with long beards, unmistakably their Harleys resting in the parking bay out the front of the venue made Y/N feel like she was finally home. It wasn’t the usual aesthetic for a wedding reception and maybe Y/N should have warned Bucky. Where’s the fun in that? She thought as she reached the entrance, but Bucky was no longer beside her.

Y/N turned to find his confused face across the sidewalk, “Come on, we’re here.”

Bucky jogged over to her, he frowned as he read the sign on the wall, “Right, we are going to a bar called Hell House that used to be a Catholic boarding school for a wedding?”

“Yes, I told you, it’s for some dear friends from when I lived here.” She ushered him inside with a giggle. “I know my way around, just follow me.”

“You said you lived in a suburb,” Bucky muttered as he walked into the dimly lit bar.

The number of people dressed similarly to the men outside was growing tenfold and Y/N could feel the tension reeling off him. She knew he wouldn’t be scared, but probably surprised by the company she kept in her hometown. They were a different, very different group of friends to those she met at college.

“Hey Chocolate Puddin’!” Y/N screamed and threw her arms around the man wiping down a table.  The man reciprocated with the usual awkward hug; not holding her too tightly in case Y/N clocked him one for feeling her up on accident again. She pulled away and gestured to her date. “And this is Bucky.”

He shook Bucky’s hand and introduced himself, “Weasel. This one just mocks me for not knowing what emojis mean.”

Y/N tugged on Bucky’s jacket to bring his ear closer and whispered, “He thought the poop emoji was chocolate ice cream or somethin’.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Weasel asked as he wiped the glasses and placed them on the bar.

“Blowjob!!” Another man shouted and spun Y/N around, pulling her away from the bar and out of Bucky’s hearing range. “Well, look at you Care Bear. Looking like a fuckable plushie.”

Weasel muttered under his breath and fixed the bailey and whipped cream shot while jealousy brewed in Bucky’s chest as he watched Y/N being picked up by the handsome man. He couldn’t react, how could he in a room full of giants and he’d hardly admitted his feelings to himself yet. 

Instead, he clutched the bottle of beer that Weasel handed him. Y/N knew these people, if she didn’t want to be manhandled then she would have done something about it. And Bucky wasn’t sure why that annoyed him more; that she was more casual with affections or that she didn’t do this with him.

Bucky turned away for a second only to turn around to see a woman grabbing Y/N’s face and pushing their faces together in a smacking kiss. His mouth dropped agape, as the women giggled and hugged one another. He needed to talk to you about what kind of place you grew up in because this was not what he pictured.

“You get used to it.” Weasel commented and held up two crossed fingers, “those three are like that. Never known a throuple like it.”

Bucky frowned, “a what?”

“He’s messing with you Buck, he’s just jealous that he never got to tap any of us. Bucky, this is Wade and Vanessa.”

It then dawned on him that the man that ordered a blow job and the woman that snogged his fake date were the newlyweds. Vanessa was one of Y/N’s oldest friends from high school and had introduced her to Wade, but never explained how. Maybe the venue had something to do with it but now he was even more curious and a little less jealous.

The four of them drank round after round at a table that had been set aside for the special couple. The table didn’t look any different to the others apart from the fact that it was probably the cleanest and the only distinguishable feature was the folded piece of paper with the words ‘reservation for wade & ness’ scrawled on it.

“So how did you two meet?” Bucky asked the couple.

“Y/N and I went our separate ways after school.” Vanessa held out her hand on the table, Y/N immediately grabbing it. “One of us sold themselves to the world of men and the other became a stripper.”

Y/N cackled, and Bucky enjoyed the carefree nature that Y/N had around this pair. She was uninhibited and more herself than he’d seen in a long time. Growing up with someone is a different type of friendship with the ones you meet at college. Bucky’s mind drifted to Steve Rogers, his childhood friend and how they were practically brothers, always getting into trouble. 

“Wade came in after finishing a job, courtesy of me.” Y/N dramatically placed her hand on her chest then looked at Bucky, “Oh right, you don’t know what Wade does for a living. So erm, basically he can be hired to help people with difficult situations rather than calling the police.”

Bucky paused and dropped the bottle onto the table with a thunk and immediately found Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where this story was going but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. Not one little bit.

“My ex was causing me some hassle and Wade gave him a little scare.” Y/N beamed through her drunkenness and turned back to the couple, “and because Wade came the next night to pay his merc fees, he met Ness.”

“Oh yeah, it was that douche, Francis. Francis. Stalker shit his pants when he saw me.” Wade barked out a laugh and turned to Vanessa, muttering words into her ear. The couple becoming completely lost in one another.

Bucky turned to Y/N, “Didn’t you date Francis in college?”

Y/N hiccupped and nodded, then vacated her seat before Bucky could respond. He watched her fiddle with the dials on the jukebox while he mulled over his thoughts; why hadn’t Y/N come to him or Sam about Francis? 

He’d have to ask her when she was sober because there was no way he was going to get the information from her now or the newlyweds. They were almost tearing each other’s clothes off as they made out. 

Y/N had finally picked a track and it boomed through the speakers. Her and a group of others dancing along to the beat. Bucky left the passionate display of intimacy and joined Y/N on the makeshift dance floor which was just some tables pushed to the side.

“Buckaroo!” She crooned and pulled him into a formal hold for such an upbeat song, “So who are we hooking you up with tonight?”

Bucky was completely surprised at her comment, he had hoped that she didn’t like what had happened on their last date and how it turned out with Jackie. Then again, Dean had text her earlier. He must have read this situation completely wrong, and he didn’t want her to know that. She couldn’t know how he felt, he wasn’t sure about it either. That’s what he kept telling himself.

He decided to play along and nod towards a young woman, “what about her?”

Y/N checked over his shoulder as they spun around the small space, she rolled her eyes at the sight of Hope Summers, “I don’t think that’s a good idea unless you want to get beaten up by her dad.”

He followed Y/N’s line of sight and spotted the man glaring at him as if he knew exactly what Bucky had thought or said about his daughter. He immediately shifted Y/N around, spinning her out and back in to avoid looking into the creepy old man’s death stare.

“I need a drink,” Y/N stopped dancing, gathering her breath.

Bucky led the way to the bar and Y/N happily held onto his hand until they were met with Weasel’s agitated face as he held the corded phone to his ear before placing the receiver to his chest.

“It’s for you.” He gestured to Y/N who rounded the bar with confusion etched across her face. Nobody who knew Hellhouse's number knew she was here or would be calling because they’re all here as far as she could tell. 

Weasel kept his hand over the mouthpiece as she approached, “It’s Tyler.”

Y/N glanced to Bucky who sipped on his beer and talked to Neena, another of her high school friends that had ended up in similar work as Wade, she was nicknamed Lucky for all the ways she miraculously got out of tricky situations.

Bucky ducked closer to Neena’s, whispering into her ear and a wave of anger erupted in Y/N. She was done with being second best, Bucky was only doing this to meet other women. She wasn’t what he wanted.

Finally, she put the phone to her ear and prepared herself to listen to whatever her ex-boyfriend wanted to say. With a deep breath, she answered the call as coolly as she could.

Bucky turned back to the bar and saw the frustration on Y/N’s face growing, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. Plus, surely, they would have rung her mobile. He scooted around the bar and approached Y/N, her back now turned from him and her fingers wrapped and unwrapped from the coil of the phone’s cord.

“Tyler, please just listen to me.” She hissed. “I am not interested. I’ve moved on.”

Bucky froze at Y/N’s words, when did she move on? And who had she moved onto? Was it that guy that she met at Darcy's wedding? Dean. The name grated his nerves. He couldn’t blame her; she was allowed to move on. Worry filled his thoughts, could he have caused Y/N to run into the arms of someone else because he hooked up with Jackie.

Y/N slammed the handset into its holder on the wall, spinning to Bucky and the moment he saw her unshed tears, he pulled her into his arms. Pushing his feelings aside, he knew that he needed to be there for her regardless of if she had moved on to someone new.

Continue Here...

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[girlmeetsliv3]

Sandman II

Hyung Line X Reader

Genre: Mystery, Psychological Thriller, Horror

Rated: M

Word Count: 4.2K

Release Date: February 26, 2021 @ 5 p.m. (GMT-5)

“Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. So imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her disappeared, and all her social medias deleted. But perhaps most peculiar was the wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”

Warning: Brief mention of death and suicide.

             The first words out of Kim Seokjin's mouth when they reached the car, after having been escorted through the back entrance to avoid the press, were "I'm sorry." YN hadn't even known how to react before Seokjin launched into a full-blown ramble, "I'm so sorry about that YN. I just - I have been so worried. We've all been, and we thought you - but now you're here. They didn't even tell us even though we're listed and to just think about how alone you've been. How confused you must feel -"

           YN placed her hands on top of his which rested on the shift gear, “It’s okay Jin. I understand.” She smiled at him tenderly before her sister’s words flashed through her mind, ‘Isn’t Seokjin the best?! He’s the only man you can truly rely on.’ Instantly YN took her hands off him, folding them on her lap. Now was not the time to dwell on those things. If Seokjin noticed the sudden shift in the air he didn’t comment on it, simply stating: “You’ve always been so understanding.” Before focusing on the road and turning the engine on, driving away. As they exited the parking lot, YN saw all the vans from the news outlets parked outside. Some she recognized, others she didn’t, but what she did notice was a large sign being held up by one of the reporters. It read: Sandman victim finally returns.

           It was as much a shock to me as it was to everyone when Seokjin and I started dating. He wasn’t my type. I can’t say for sure what it was that drew us together - maybe loneliness - or maybe I just liked the way people stared in shock at the fact that someone like him was with someone like me. That didn’t matter though, Seokjin and the others were always there. They were whatever I needed them to be. They would do anything to make me happy, but I wasn’t the only one they treated as special.

           When the car approached the front gate of Nagwon villas YN frowned, “Weren’t we going to the hospital?” The thought of being poked and prodded like a rag doll wasn’t a pleasing one, but she knew disappearing for three years and not remembering anything didn’t bode well. The only thing that could give a hint at what she’d endured, and why she’d forgotten, was her body. Seokjin shrugged, “I know you aren’t a big fan of doctors, so I asked Namjoon for a favor.” Namjoon? She wasn't sure she was ready to see Namjoon or any of them for that matter. She hadn't even thought about seeing Jin until he showed up. ‘He’s like something out of a fairy tale, isn’t he? A knight in shining armor.’ YN shook her head, don't think about her or you'll start crying like a child again. Everyone in her family had always called her a crybaby, teased her for not being able to hold her emotions in. Right now, though, she felt less like a newborn and more like an overflowed dam. About to break at any second.

           “Are the others going to be there?” Is he going to be there?

           “No, Hoseok is out of town. He should be coming back tomorrow though; I wasn’t sure if you wanted him to know you were back but it's all over the news.”

That wasn't who she was talking about and they both knew it. Still, if Seokjin was being ignorant then it was for a reason; so she went along with it. "Shouldn't it be Namjoon's dad?"

Seokjin glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “Namjoons a doctor now, babe. It’ll be him you’re seeing.” Perhaps still sensing her hesitance he continued, “Don’t worry his family has a private practice in their house for situations like this.”

“You’re all still friends?” She asked, looking outside the window at the passing houses. They passed several houses she recognized, having been inside a couple of them. Nagwon kids always threw the best parties; likely due to their houses being huge and the large amounts they could spend on booze. Her sister would always drag YN to one when she was stuck babysitting, at first she’d just sit around on her phone. Things became easier when they started hanging out with the guys though: there was always Hoseok to crack jokes, Namjoon to talk random things about, and Seokjin to offer whatever it was she needed. Yoongi was always there too, but they wouldn’t talk much just sit in silence.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be? The best of friends.” There was no sarcasm or humor in his voice, he meant it. Maybe he truly didn’t care? Or three years was a long time to hold onto a grudge especially when the two at-fault for their problems disappeared from their lives. That’s probably why. With YN and her sister out of the way, things had gone back to normal for the men. Nonetheless, it felt like nothing between Seokjin and YN had changed, but that couldn't be true. It's been three years. That statement was difficult for her to wrap her head around, but it didn’t make it any less true. It had been three years and yet Seokjin acted like they hadn’t spent a single day apart. Her mind filled with questions and doubts, so much so she couldn’t help but ask.

“Did we hang out the night I disappeared?”

Seokjin took his hands off the wheel, she hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped, the look he gave her was a mixture of incredulity and hurt. “No, we didn’t. You told me you didn’t want to see me again.” His voice was tense, ears getting red the way they did whenever he was upset. “Don’t you remember?”

I did tell him that. She hadn't meant it of course, but YN tended to lash out when she felt cornered. Thinking back now, she remembered her cruel words how she had blamed Seokjin for something that was both their fault. The pain on his face and the desperation in his tone as he begged for her to forgive him, only for YN to kick him out and shut the door.

"I forgot. I'm sorry, Jin." She pressed her fingers into her palm, hoping the pain would take things off her mind.

“Hey.” Jin’s fingers gently gripped the bottom of her chin, “It’s okay. I forgive you, let’s just not talk about it again okay?” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.

YN breathed deeply before unlocking the door and getting out. The Kim's large beige mansion stared down at her - it was the first time she’d been there, and the nerves were eating her up. Namjoon will probably have a lot of questions too. She had barely managed to get through one of Officer Taehyung’s questions before having a panic attack, YN had no idea how she would brave against Namjoon. With nerves clouding her senses she failed to notice the black motorcycle parked on the curve, slightly obscured by the shrubs. Had she YN would have avoided walking into a trap.

"Heard you got your ass whooped by Min." Jungkook laughed, as he sat on the edge of Taehyung's desk. "Did he take you over his knee and make you count to ten?" At that, a couple of others nearby chuckled. Taehyung rolled his eyes, "If he hears you, he'll take you over his knee." Jungkook shoved him softly, though 'softly' in this case meant Taehyung almost fell off his chair. Deciding to ignore him this time, he focused once again on the small font on his computer. Several minutes passed before Jungkook spoke again, "Is this about YN? If you're looking through the case files you won't find anything useful. Trust me, everyone in this room has gone through it multiple times."

There was a reason there was press lined up outside, nothing sold quite like a morbid story. ‘Girl disappears from her bed in the middle of the night with no trace behind’ had a nice hook to it. Taehyung had already been in the academy when it happened, but he was still shocked - especially once he found out it had happened in his hometown. Nothing ever happened in this town, they called it paradise for a reason. Yet someone had broken into the YLN family home and stolen a girl straight from her bed, nothing left behind but a bit of wet sand.

“It doesn’t hurt to look again, plus now we might get somewhere that she’s back. Find out who did it.” Taehyung scrolled down and started looking at all the pictures, he’d have to swing by the evidence locker later to see what they still had left physically.

“I’m just surprised the sister didn’t do it, given everything -”

Taehyung spun around quickly in his chair, “Don’t say that. Minsuh loved that kid, she’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“Yeah well that’s not what I heard,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. “I know it isn’t good to speak ill of the dead, but Minsuh wasn’t as dignified as her name suggested.”

Taehyung turned away from the young cop, “Look you’re wasting my time and I have to focus on this case. YN’s going to come back tomorrow and we need to build a timeline, can’t do that without all the facts so just go away.”

Jungkook sighed, “Sorry man. I know the two of you were close,” Jungkook had seen how uncomfortable Taehyung had gotten when YN brought up him dating her sister. “But you know I’m not the only one that thinks so. Regardless, everyone knows it's not true now so there’s that.”

It doesn’t matter, Taehyung wanted to say, she died with everyone in this town thinking she was a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. Instead, he remained quiet, eyes focused on the computer screen. Gaze focused intensely on the pictures of YN’s bedroom as if they would wield together a logical story that would explain where she’d been this whole time.

Everyone in school had a crush on Namjoon. Smart Namjoon. Sweet Namjoon. Dimpled cheeks Namjoon. Girls and guys would swoon over him, talking about how they would love to feel his chest or sit on his thighs. They were all fools. Ah, yes, Kim Namjoon may look harmless but it's always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

It truly was a private practice, equipped with all sorts of equipment one might find in a typical emergency room. YN wondered why they would ever need something like that. Maybe high clientele? Though the closest things to celebrities that lived in this town were both Seokjin and Namjoon's families, then Jung's, and the Min's. Namjoon wasn't there when they first arrived but appeared quickly enough, the gentle smile on his face reminded YN of simpler times. "How are you?" It dawned on her then that was the first time she'd been asked the question. She'd been plagued by 'where were you?' 'how are you alive?' and 'I'm sorrys' since she'd woken up. No one ever thought to ask how she was.

“I’ve been better.” YN answered softly, afraid that if she spoke anymore, she would break down again. The men in the room seemed to read between the lines without her elaborating further. Seokjin squeezed her hand, “Well, I’ll give you two some privacy. I’ll be right outside if anything happens, okay?” Before YN could respond Jin once again kissed her forehead before walking away. Leaving her alone in the stark white room with Namjoon, who leaned against a medical bed. His left hand patting the space beside him, “Let’s talk YN.” She grimaced slightly. “You’re in a safe space YN. You know me I would never do anything to hurt you and Seokjin is right outside if you need him. We’re your family.”

Family. They had been a sort of family, the five of them: always hanging out, sharing stories, meals, and memories. It didn't matter that she was much younger or that the only reason she was tolerated was that Minsuh was dating Seokjin. They had always been kind, always been loving, always been there. Even when her actual family wasn't. They’re all I’ve got… at least until dad comes. Once she sat down the doctor offered a genuine smile, it reminded her of all the times the two would stay up late studying at the library. A warmth that eased away from the chill she'd had all day lead to the first genuine smile on her face, “Thanks Namjoon.”

“I told you to call me Joon remember?” His broad shoulder playfully brushed YN’s, before he began conducting his examinations.

      “You know being clandestine isn’t your strong suit.” Kim Seokjin leaned against the black LeoVince Racer waiting for his friend to exit from the back of Namjoon's private practice. Min Yoongi looked like he hadn't slept for days and had the corners of his lips turned upward in a way that was half-way between a snarl and a smirk. "I'd beg to differ." Yoongi responded, approaching the man as he adjusted white medical papers into his jacket's hidden pockets.

Seokjin eyed them carefully, “If you’re caught with those you could face serious trouble.”

Yoongi laughed, “Who’s going to catch me? The sheriff?”

           Seokjin rolled his eyes, empty threats and warnings weren’t going to change anything. “What do the papers say?” He tried to grab them, but Yoongi blocked his hand easily. Maneuvering Seokjin off his bike so he could get on it.

           "Ask the doc or her. She doesn't keep secrets from you." Yoongi's eyes were cold and his voice lacked the playfulness present before. Seokjin knew better than to press his buttons any further, "Go before she sees you." Not that it mattered much, YN would be face to face with all of them soon - a reunion was inevitable. Nonetheless, Yoongi was a sore spot for her; the more Seokjin could delay their meeting the more things could go according to plan.

        “So you’re officially a doctor?” YN asked as Namjoon finished up drawing the last of her blood. They'd done all types of x-rays, physical, and psychological examinations to check her well-being. No words had been shared between the two, but the silence was beginning to bother her.

“Well, yes and no. Still must finish my residency, but I have most of the hours done.” Namjoon replied nonchalantly.

Whenever the subject had come up before Namjoon had dreaded having to take over the family business, feeling it was a role he was being pushed into. Guess things have changed. “I thought you didn’t want to be a doctor.”

He shrugged in response, “I guess I finally understood why my dad loved it so much. Medicine, biology, psychology, chemistry are all things that are useful.”

“You became a doctor became because it was useful? That doesn’t make much sense.” YN chuckled as Namjoon placed a bandage on the inside of her arm. He chose not to reply immediately, instead, holding up a lollipop that was inside his pocket. She took it with little thought. “Little makes sense in life. Human beings are just inherent paradoxes.” Minsuh always said that. It was one of the things the two sisters never agreed on. Minsuh always argued that people could still technically be considered ‘good’ no matter what they did. YN disagreed. Can’t do bad things and still be a good person. Namjoon clapped his hands together, signaling they were done and proceeded to help YN off the bed.

“Thanks, Joon.” She shot him a smile which she hoped looked more sincere than it felt. Though tensions didn’t run as high with Namjoon as they did with the others, it didn’t mean it was smooth sailing. Namjoon, like always, understood exactly what she meant and didn’t push. “Of course, YN. Anything for you.” With the promise her results would be ready in a couple of days, he sent her back on her way.

When she exited Seokjin was waiting outside with a furrow on his brow. Now what? YN didn’t know where else to go from here, what else to do, it felt like she’d hit a roadblock. I could go back home. Was that place even home anymore? Without her family, furniture, memories – could she return, or would it be too painful? Was she even allowed to return? It had looked abandoned when she’d been inside, so certainly YN wasn’t trespassing.

“It’s okay YN. You can stay at mine until we figure something out. I wouldn’t want you out of my sight anyway, it’s dangerous.”

It didn’t sit right with her to rely on Seokjin so much – or be under the same roof as him – but she would be lying if she said it didn’t ease her anxiety. “You’ve already done so much. I couldn’t ask that of you.” Her hands were shaking as she said the words, but even if she wanted to say yes immediately. YN couldn’t be selfish.

“No, I haven’t. Trust me.”

Before YN could ask what he meant Seokjin took hold of her wrist gently pulling her to the car.

Jung Hoseok. Lovely Hoseok. Funny Hoseok. Sweet Hoseok. The boy whose smile lights up the sky and everyone just gravitates towards him. No one could ever dislike him. Mr. Popular always putting others before himself. Dear sweet Hobi is an angel sent from heaven, but he isn’t as innocent as he seems. People tend to forget Lucifer was god’s favorite before he fell from the sky.

“Honestly was it really necessary to put on this whole show?” Hoseok wiggled his wrists causing the handcuffs to jingle against the table. Taehyung’s face remained stoic as he proceeded to read from the file. “A bit strange isn’t that YLN YN returns when you just so happen to out of town, Mr. Jung.” His eyebrow arched highly, Hoseok would’ve laughed if not for the situation he was in. “No it isn’t. I take a family trip around this time every single year detective. I told this to the sheriff three years ago and I’ll repeat this now.” He leaned forward the mirth gone from his mouth, “I had nothing to do with what happened to YN. I wouldn’t hurt her or anyone else for that matter.” Hoseok sighed, leaning back on the uncomfortable chair. “Look officer, I know its procedure and the prime suspect is always the boyfriend, but it wasn’t me.”

Even if Taehyung doubted that with every fiber of his being, he had nothing else to go off on. Jung Hoseok’s alibis were airtight, had always been, not to mention it would be extremely out of character for him to harm a bug – much less orchestrate something to this degree. It had been reckless to ask for him to be picked up from the city, but today had been a long day and there were just too many coincidences for the investigator to ignore. “Very well Mr. Jung. You’re free to go but I suggest you don’t leave town on another family vacation any time soon.” He reached towards his belt, taking out the keys and uncuffing Hoseok. Taehyung was on a tight schedule anyway; it would only be a matter of time before the sheriff returned from his lunch break. Seeing his son’s best friend in handcuffs would only cause Taehyung to be even more reprimanded.

With the cuffs off him, Hoseok stood up, stretching his lithe limbs. "You used to call me Hyung remember? Back when you were desperate for Minsuh and you to be a thing." Taehyung recalled having felt the need to please her friends to get her to look twice at him. Where’s this coming from? Hoseok looked down at him with cold eyes, "You know we never blamed you for how you reacted to things ending Tae. Heartbreak can make a man go crazy after all." The tension in the room was palpable when suddenly a smile broke out on Hoseok's face. "Sorry, it was silly of me to bring that up. We were all kids after all." With that he walked away from the desk and opened the door, turning around just enough to wink at Taehyung before the door closed completely.

Hoseok felt his phone vibrate inside his pants and rolled his eyes, without even looking he knew who it was. Taking the phone out, he swiped right and immediately spoke. “Yah, you won’t believe what just fucking happened. Where are you anyway?”

“Sorry it isn’t much.” Seokjin apologized as he handed YN the pile of clothes. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for essentials.” YN shook her head, “Thanks, I don’t need much. My dad shouldn’t take too long in coming to get me anyway.” She placed the clothes on the banister in the bathroom, content to finally be able to shower and become clean. It had been a long day, some soap and water might not wash the pain away, but she could pretend it would. There was another thing weighing on her mind, a thought that would simply not go away. For as kind as Seokjin had always been with her, even he had his limits. This behavior felt a bit out of character with the person she knew – the one she remembered.

“Why are you doing all this Jin?”

The man in question froze as if stunned, "What do you mean?" His dark brows furrowed, his lips turning down into a grimace.

“Going to see me, Namjoon, letting me stay over. All of this,” she gestured to the bathroom which had been prepared with candles, bath bombs, and calming music. It’s out of character for you. Kim Seokjin had never really been the romantic type, caring yes, but not sentimental. “Is it out of guilt?” Is it out of pity? YN may not remember what happened the night she disappeared, but that summer would forever remain ingrained in her head. "Do you blame yourself for what happened?" Or are you doing this because you feel responsible? Which one was it? Maybe all of them combined?

Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, “Yes.” Without elaborating anymore, he walked out of the bathroom shutting the door behind him.

             When YN walked out of the bathroom she felt much better. All of the day’s events had worn her thin and she was ready to head straight to bed, but not without seeking Seokjin out and confronting him. Yes? Yes, to what exactly? Everything? She hadn’t been able to find the house slippers she’d borrowed, so she traveled through the house and down the stairs barefoot. Barely making any sound. She could hear loud audio coming from the living room and voices on the other side where the library was. Though she could recognize Seokjin as one of the voices, her feet dragged her to the living room, nonetheless. Deeming it better to wait until he was done than interrupting what sounded like an important conversation.

           The couch had been changed into a leather sectional angled towards the screen as had more of the décor. It looked less like a family home and more like a bachelor pad now if YN was honest. Seokjin the bachelor. He had always had someone attached to his side whether it be a dancer, cheerleader, private school girl, and eventually her sister. What about you? YN shook her head, wanting the thought to disappear as quickly as it had appeared. The television distracted her once she picked up on what was being said. It was a newsreel showing a bleached blonde with shiny hair and pouty lips holding a microphone. Behind him was YN’s home, or what used to be, in the dead of the night it looked eerie. After basic introductions the news anchor began speaking:

           “Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. Imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her present disappeared, and all her social medias were deleted. Perhaps most peculiar was the only substantial evidence found by investigators was wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”

           “Try as they investigators could find nothing that could tell them what had happened to YN. Then a year later tragedy struck once more when on the anniversary of YN’s disappearance, YLN Minsuh – her older sister - took her and her mother’s life in a murder suicide. YN’s father who was present that night managed to survive. Many people took this to be an admission of guilt on the sister’s part, for the two had never had the best relationship. Though with no note, the case had no choice to remain open. Thankfully for a miracle would occur. Almost three years to the day, YN has returned to the exact spot of her disappearance. Residents and audiences nationally are overjoyed, and hope justice can now be served. Stay tuned as this tragic twisted tale continues to unfold. We’ll now switch back over to Bo for sports.”

           A piercing wail left YN’s mouth as she collapsed to the floor. Immediately, she was scooped off the ground into a warm embrace. “Jin?” She cried, but when she met the eyes of her savior the round hazel she was expecting was instead met with sharp feline ones. "Yoongi?!"

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[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 1

I went through my entire ao3 history because I’m insane, AND here’s my favorites. (There’s not a lot of aus because I’m not a huge fan of them, and there’s no sad endings. I’m a hopeless romantic leave me alone. There is angst though! Lots) 

Beginning with SakuAtsu (I’m a hoe for Atsumu): 

Hide and seek, by badreputation (10k. E. canonverse) 

It sure is a good thing Atsumu doesn't have a latex allergy 

It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

Some Memories, We May Keep, by mika60 (31k. T. canonverse) 

This is canon, fight me on it. 

The missing panels, the missing games, the missing moments.

The them we never saw.

*Now complete! :)*

 every action has an equal and opposite reaction, by akanemnida (10k. T. canonverse) 

Miya Atsumu gets a modeling contract with Calvin Klein, which sets Kiyoomi's heart in motion.

(Or: Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that the rules governing the universe are absolute rubbish at explaining matters of the heart.)

 Ass-fingering as a prelude to relations of the emotional kind: a case study, by neverwere (2k. E. canonverse) 

Fucking hilarious, the imagery is absolutely hilarious. 

"Marry me, he thinks, as he comes around Sakusa's fingers and all over himself.

This. This is exactly why you don't let strangers or very attractive teammates finger you out of the blue.

Everyone knows that the ass is the shortest way to the heart."

Or

When it comes to sex, Atsumu has rules. Guidelines! SOPs! He swears they work, they've always worked.

Until they don't.

 parallax error: angle of inclination, by min_mintobe (10k. T. canonverse)

But now there's the one person Atsumu'd promised himself never to touch. His eyes leave Atsumu breathless with guilt at seventeen, and he spends the next six years safe in the satisfaction of making things right.

Feelings, of the physical kind, and one kiss.

ft. competitive spirit, childishness, and late night conversations.

Atsumu POV.

 autumn ends, but we remain, by wolfsbvne (5k. T. canonverse)

Author says in their ending notes that they're not an ‘author’, but methinks they should write more and pursue that career path because this was wonderful.  

atsumu stares at his ceiling at 2am. he stares until he can make out designs in his popcorn ceiling. a cat there, an onigiri here, and then something that suspiciously looks like a mop of hair, triangle eyebrows, and oh those two bumps are moles right above what atsumu just mapped out as an eye.

(or, atsumu is in kind of in love. sakusa is maybe in like.)

I left a taste in your mouth, by emso (26k. E. bodyguard au)

Because obviously 

Sakusa fixes him with a vague expression of something like distaste. There's a scathing edge to his tone when he speaks. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, not everyone who meets you is instantly dying to get into your pants, Miya."

"Lucky I don't really care right now what 'everyone' wants to do, then." Atsumu swivels his mug around on the tabletop a few times, and then brings it to his mouth to drain the last few dregs of his latte. Over the rim of his mug, he adds casually, "Just you."

Whoa hey Bodyguard Omi, I think Spoiled Rich Kid Tsumu might possibly have a teensy crush on you. 

 How do you know you're in love?, by spiritscript (12k. T. canonverse)

Pure art

“So, how did you know you were in love? How did it feel?” Atsumu felt nervous asking this, a slight wiggling in the pit of his stomach, unable to look at the man beside him who rolled his shoulders in an attempt to reset his posture. “I mean, you didn’t resonate with what I said, so, what is love to you Omi-kun?”

Atsumu thinks he must be in love with Hinata Shouyou and so asks the best person he knows to help him understand his feelings

 san'yo expressway, 6:17 pm, by yamabota (13k. T. canonverse)

Of violent forethoughts, and handheld car vacuums. 

Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe.

Kiss him again, maybe.

They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out. 

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional, by DeathBelle (Series, 5 works. T-E. Canonverse)

Honestly, I think this one is kind of famous amongst Sakuatsu readers but I can’t not include it. If I recall correctly, this is the fic that got me into Sakuastu, so thanks, DeathBelle. The characters are portrayed really well (i.e. Sakusa is disgusted and confused, and Atsumu is a little shit). You’ve got a good balance between conversations and descriptive thoughts and all-in-all it’s just a really good read. 

 Atsumu said into the heavy silence, “You can’t say you’ve never thought about it.”

"Thought about what?" said Sakusa.

Atsumu smiled to himself, smug. "You know."

"No, I don't."

"You know. Of course you’ve thought about it. There’s no reason to be ashamed, Omi-kun. I’m a real catch.”

Sakusa was appalled. "You're disgusting."

"You flatter me. I'm not judging you. I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it, too."

Sakusa shifted, slowly, to peer over his shoulder. He wasn’t scowling, but his expression was unreadable. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Atsumu wasn't joking, and he was about to get more than he bargained for.

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), by liliapocalypse (7k words. T. canonverse):

Oh, god. This one was so cute. Super fluffy. Loved the metaphors and symbolism. Sometimes you just can’t say things out loud. 

When a bad injury shocks the whole V. League, Sakusa finds himself paired with Atsumu for more rigorous assisted stretches before every training. Atsumu then finds himself writing random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe the spiker, forcing Sakusa to reevaluate how his touch aversion became an irresistible yearning for more, and how the boy with the annoying hair somehow brought that hunger to life.

Or, the fic where Atsumu mindlessly writes a confession on Sakusa’s back when he thought Sakusa wasn't paying attention. Sakusa always did.

 mortality is found is the flesh of your sins, by novrik (10k. M. canonverse)

This is literally my favorite fic of all time. Not just of Sakuatsu, not even of the Haikyuu fandom. Ever. Favorite fic ever. Listen, I’m an atheist, but this fic took me on a religious experience that I haven't come down from yet. The symbolism had me actually shivering, and I had to put my phone down quite a few times. Just, oh wow, just read it. I’d like to share my favorite line; ‘And if Sakusa is Eve, if he takes a bite, what then? Perhaps, he is a little afraid of the knowledge he will gain’. My god, author, if you ever see this, this is not only a plea for you to continue writing, but also an offer of marriage. Your hand, author?

 dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate.

Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?

Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying?

When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

 sakuatsu domesticity simulator, by pseudoanalytics (75 words. T. canonverse)

75 words because it's actually a digital art simulator. An interactive fic! How frickin’ cool is that? The art is so beautiful and I love the plotline and ugh, just everything. Please read, or watch, or click around, yes. Good. 

Update: artist created another interactive fic and of course it is wonderful. SunaOsa this time! https://newttxt.itch.io/cheesecake honestly just check out @newttxt their work is amazing and I love everything they do. 

a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

***

(this is the result of letting the sakuatsu brainworms really get to you...)

 Pas De Deux, by hatsuna (19k words. T. Ballet/college au)

There's just something about prim, proper ballet Sakusa and human-benign-tumor Atsumu that makes my heart burst. Seriously gorgeous writing style, loved every second. By the same author who wrote ‘liminal spaces’ (which is also just perfect) so that should give you a good idea of the style. 

The mystery athlete gives Kiyoomi a once over in the mirror. “Yer pretty tall,” he observes. The twang of an accent rasps low in his throat. His brazen eyes drift to Kiyoomi’s legs, and something like exhilaration glints gold in his gaze. “Good quads, too. Ya ever played volleyball?”

 Ah. So it’s volleyball.

“I’m a dancer. Ballet and contemporary, mostly.”

 the affective presence of our black and white reruns, by kozumess (19k. E. canonverse)

Beautiful, classic misunderstandings, my heart actually physically ached at that one scene (you’ll know the scene when you come to it). Kiyoomi is so refreshingly relaxed(? Is that the right word to use? We all know Omi never truly relaxes). 

but the want, it's always there, constant like the static playing on every television channel, present even when the station disconnects.

 cut the conversation, just open your mouth, by meeksoo (E. 16k. canonverse)

Absolutely filthy...BUT WITH FEELINGS! Completely nails the Sakuatsu dynamic, and protective ‘Tsumu? Love it. 

Sakusa opens the door. He always does.

 They’re teammates first, barely even friends. But they hook up on the regular and it works. It’s simple, easy. But then a fan gets too close, Sakusa reacts, and Atsumu is swept up in how quickly things can get complicated.

__

As Atsumu palms himself over his briefs, still feeling off, he realizes it’s because he still wants it. Him. Sakusa. Even after already having him earlier.

He should probably feel self-conscious, mildly ashamed even, that he’s panting ‘Omi Omi’ into the dark beneath the steady thrum of the AC unit when Sakusa’s right down the hall, probably good for it if Atsumu ended up back at his door. Instead, he lays there, writhing and sweaty, alone in his hotel room bed thinking about Sakusa and touching himself.

Afterward, as cum begins to cool on his chest, Atsumu really can’t help but face the fact that things may be getting complicated.

 the hands that beckon me to come, by Ellieb3an (4k. E. canonverse)

So hot, what the fuck! 

The toss, the run, the spike-serve at the end of it all—Sakusa sees it happen in perfect clarity as if time has slowed and his vision narrows to the center where just Miya exists, all powerful muscle and extraordinary skill and that air of confidence.

Sakusa isn’t one of the best receivers in the league for no reason, so his body moves on muscle memory, forearms absorbing the sting of the hit. It’s not enough. But his eyes are still on Miya—on the way his shorts ride up his muscular thighs as he lands, on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, on the clench of his fist thrust into the air—when the ball ricochets out of bounds.

***

Atsumu stays late at practices to work on his new third serve, even when his frustration with it starts throwing off the rest of his game. Sakusa notices and starts hanging back to secretly watch him from the gym doors. He’s fascinated with Atsumu's determination... and more than a little turned on by it, too.

 you're the flame i use (when it gets dark), by starkartifices (55k. M. canonverse. Ongoing)

Everything is the same except the Sakusas are super rich. 

“Oh, if you want dear, you could bring a plus one. Though, I doubt you have a partner yet.”

“I do actually.”

“What was that, dear?”

"I do have a partner, I mean."

alt title: crazy rich sakusas 

 the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or; the fine art of emotional recognition), by pseudoanalytics (13k. E. canonverse)

Ah, yes. A Pavloved sex life. A Pavloved LOVE life?? 

It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

 flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu oneshots), by wordstruck (5 works. T-E. canonverse)

Works 1-3, I think follow a linear story, whereas the last two don't. 

All sakuatsu works are just the angstiest, most miscommunication filled pieces of absolute gold and this one is no exception. Wow. These men are assholes and they bring out the worst in each other, but I’ll be damned if they’re not soulmates. 

Collection of SakuAtsu fics. Several fics are loosely set in the same storyverse. Not necessarily directly connected and can all be read as standalones.

[purefrostbyte]

Aizawa - You Deserve Happiness Too Sensei (Part 2)

Part 1:

Aizawa

Rating: Smut

Part 2

You Deserve Happiness Too Sensei

 After 5 minutes of self-doubt and 3 shots of vodka later, Aizawa finally had the confidence to come up to you. You were currently sitting alone at a table watching you best friends socialize, Aizawa saw his chance. He walked over, choosing to go around the room instead of through the mob of people.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to enjoy myself?” You jumped, you had assumed after Yamada that he was done talking with you. A smile crossed your face when you saw it was Aizawa, “I am enjoying myself Sensei, I just needed to sit down for a while.” Aizawa chuckled, the way you slipped up and called him Sensei was adorable and arousing to him. “Well then do you mind if I accompany you?” he asked and you nodded happily.

He sat next to you, the two of you making pleasant conversation as the night progressed. You had seen the all-knowing smirk that Miruko gave you when she saw the two of you together, and had opted to leave you with him for the rest of the night, literally.

“Hey Eraser,” you both turned your head to see you best friend, dressed in a stunning silver dress standing by the foot of your table. “Hello Miruko,” Aizawa greeted as the bunny heroin hatched her plan. “Look I need to go, and generally Y/n and I make sure the other gets home safe. Could you be a gentleman and escort her home for me?” Miruko smirked when your face went red, “Rumi I’m not drunk, I can make it home by myself.” You huffed, more because you knew why she was asking. Miruko waved you off, “We had drinks before we even got here, and I’m not taking the risk. Please Aizawa.”

Aizawa pretended to think it over before nodding, and Miruko smiled happily before leaving the party. Giving you a subtle wink before leaving. “You really don’t have to do this Aizawa,” you mumbled, but just like Usagiyama he waved you off. “I already said I would.” He answered before turning to you, “Or do you not want my company Y/n?” He smirked, noticing your thighs clench and body shake slightly from his words and tone. “No, it’s just…I don’t want to be a burden.”  

Aizawa scoffed, “You couldn’t be a burden even if you tried, now come on. Let’s get you home.”

 The drive in his car was pleasant, comfortable silence filled with soft lofi music. When you finally did reach your apartment, Aizawa insisted he walk you in too. “Thank for this,” you said bashfully, “It means a lot.” Aizawa gave you a rare and genuine smile, “No problem Y/n, though I do have a question I need to ask you.” He had started to walk towards you, and out of instinct you moved backwards until your back hit the back of the elevator. You gasped when he caged you in, clicking the button for your floor quickly before returning his attention to you.  

You breathing hitched, thighs squeezed together as the man you had had a crush on all of high school leaned down towards your ear. “The whole night, whenever you are around me, you clench your thighs together…” His voice trailed off as he watched you face, expression turning your deer in headlights look. “Now I’m no expert but,” One of his hands trailed up your exposed thigh, “I’m pretty sure that means I’m turning you on Y/n.”

You gulped, biting your lip out of nervous habit. The action made Aizawa growl and you couldn’t help the shaky moan that slipped pass you lips. Aizawa smirked, “Do I turn you on Y/n?” he pressed his body against yours. “I...I,” you didn’t know what to say, your mind was racing. “Words Y/n,” his tone made your knees week, it was a tone he normally used in the classroom. You couldn’t help your response, “Yes Sensei.”

Aizawa growled before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You moaned at the contact, hand reaching up to run through his ebony locks. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and you gladly opened, tongues dancing together in a way that made you almost collapse. The doors of the elevator dinged open and soon Aizawa had picked you, hands kneading your ass as he walked down the hall way. He didn’t know which was yours, but he wasn’t pulling away anytime soon.

You directed him by pulling his hair, you knew your apartment well you had lived here since you had moved out of your family home. He finally pulled away, both of your breathing heavy and labored. You quickly fished your key from your hand clutch and tried unlocking your door. Aizawa quickly unlocked it instead, he was normally a very patience person but the idea of getting to kiss you more made him extremely impatience. As soon as the door clicked shut your back was pressed against it as Aizawa pulled you into another heated open mouth kiss.  

You pulled away when your lungs started to beg for air, panting with your head against the door exposing your neck to him. He quickly claimed small patches of flesh, biting and sucking at it in an attempt to leave his mark on you. You moaned softly, hands tugging and gripping at his hair. “Sensei,” You moaned and you were rewarded with a sinful groan from Aizawa, “Yes Y/n?” You mewled happily when he started grinding against you, wanting some type of friction for his growing erection. “Please Sensei, Please” You begged, not wanting to voice your full desires, “Please what? I’m not a mind reading darling, I need you to tell me.” His breath was hot against your ear,

“Please Sensei, Please make me feel good,” You punctuated your sentence by grinding back against him, and he was helpless to suppress the throaty groan he let out. “There’s my good girl,” he pulled you off the door, through your apartment to find your bedroom. When he did he lay you down gently on the bed before starting to undo his tie. The scene made your breath hitch, he was standing at the foot of your bed, tie undone and a dark lustful look in his eyes.

“Dress off,” he command and you happily obeyed, pulling down the zip at the back before shimming out of the silk garment. He growled at your matching black lace lingerie, as if you subconsciously knew he was gonna have you tonight. “Bra,” He ordered next and you unclipped it letting it slide down your arms to the floor. “Arms out,” and you held your arms out for him to bind. He wrapped his tie securely around your wrists, making sure that they were tight but comfortable. “If you want me to stop say red, ok?”

Aizawa cared a lot for you, and he wouldn’t push you to do something you didn’t want. You nodded and he pushed you gently back down onto the bed, slotting his body in between your thighs. He hooked his fingers into your panties and then slowly dragged them off your body, causing a whine to tear from your throat. “Patience,” he whispered, lifting up on of your legs to wrap around his neck. He then licked a stripe up your slit before swirling it around your clit. You moaned, toes curling as he pushed his tongue into you.

Euphoria took your body when he swapped his tongue for his fingers, skilled digits working you open as he sucked on your clit. One finger, two finger then three. His ear drank in the sound of your moans as he worked you. By now you were grinding against him, hips bucking and body shaking at the sheer pleasure he was giving you. A knot formed in your stomach, tightening and tightening, and just when you thought you were gonna burst he pulled away

A low whine left your lips, but Aizawa only kissed it away. “Don’t worry, good girls get rewarded.” He started undressing, “Do you have lube?” He may have worked you open, but he wasn’t risking hurting you. “Second drawer,” you panted and he quickly found it and slicked himself up. “Are you on birth control?” He asked as he lined himself up with your core, you nodded.

‘Smack’

You moaned at the stinging sensation on your ass cheek, “Words,” he growled. “Yes Sensei,” you moaned and he smirked, “Good girl.” He thrusted into you, and your back arched as you screamed in pleasure. “Shouta~” he snapped his hips, making sure his pace was slow but deep. He wanted to savor this and he would.

He pushed your arms above you, holding them in place as he fucked you deep. “Harder,” you panted as your head tilted back, Aizawa was not impressed. “Excuse me?” You mewled, “Please go harder Sensei.” That was what he wanted to hear. He snapped his hips against you harder, “Like this Baby Girl?”

You moaned loudly, “Yes Sensei!” he kept his pace, feeling your inner walls squeeze around him. He started shifting, trying to find that spot that would make you see stars. “SENSEI~” You screamed, Found it. He turned his attention to abusing that spot, hard and deep thrusts bring you both closer to release.

“Sensei-“ You tried to warn, but it was too late. The knot in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you causing a scream like moan to rip from your throat. As your walls spammed around him Aizawa found himself also reaching his orgasm, cumming inside you but never halting his movements. You both rode out your highs, room filled with the smell of sex, sweat and Aizawa’s cologne.

Aizawa finally halted his movement, pulling out of you before dropping next to you. There were no words spoken for a while. Both of you coming to the realization of what just happened. Aizawa sighed, thinking you would rather want him gone, he started to get dressed. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Um…Would you…Would you like to stay?”

You voice brought him back out of his swirling thoughts. “I really would, but I wouldn’t want to over stay my welcome and-“ You shot up and pulled him to a passionate kiss. He had expected it, and slowly he melted into it wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know,” you whispered as you pull away, “You deserve happiness too Sensei.”

[janaeekook]

.heather. (m)

hyunjindrabbles

warning: alocohol, partying, blowjob

word count: 2.7k (based off the song heather by conan gray)

••••

Don’t fall in love with your bestfriend; just don’t. Don’t let it get to your head with those words they say, you’ll just end up hurt.

Though he never knew how You felt, You were too late. You lost your chance, to heather, You wanted to hate her but how can you hate such an angel?

It hurt that warm September night, when he showed up to your 19th birthday party. Heather with him. You shouldn’t have to fake a smile on your birthday, but the way she had him wrapped around her finger made jealousy burn in your stomach. You decidedly drank away the heartache with copious amounts of alcohol.

You’d drank a lot more alcohol ever since then, all from the pain and emotional turmoil swirling through your head. You found yourself waking up in his friends bed; weather for comfort or some form of sick twisted revenge You cooked up in your head. But he was with Heather.

You’d avoided his texts and calls for months, it was November, the air was brisk and turned your nose a bright shade of pink. You were walking through the streets of Seoul, your hands stuffed into your jacket pockets. The familiar buzz of your phone in you pocket. You took it out glancing at the screen.

1 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

You unlocked your phone to read what he said. You and Chan had been hooking up a lot recently, so you assumed it was something about your plans.

C: 𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙣 ;) 𝙗𝙪𝙪𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧??

Chan always loved parties, but he was a responsible partier. He always toke care of you, in more ways than one.

Y/n: 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥!

You decided to head back to your small apartment. Somehow the space felt colder than the outdoors, you were always alone nowadays. Your friends all had their own lives to worry about, on the outside it probably seemed you didn’t care for yourself, your constant intake of alcohol and an occasional cigarette.

You were just hurt, questioning why he hadn’t chose you, 𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. You mind pointed out to you, a sigh left your lips. Taking a seat at your vanity, your eyes studied your tired face — the dark circles that sat beneath your void eyes, your lips not lifting from their pout.

You felt sorry for yourself, the nearly unrecognizable person who stared back at you in the mirror. You sighed rubbing your hands over your face, you were a complete stranger to the girl you saw in the mirror months before.

•

You sat in Chan’s car looking in the mirror attached to the sun visor, you expertly made yourself look my presentable and lively. You took a swig of the small bottle of alcohol you had thrown in your bag. Chan chuckled beside you.

“You know, I can’t fuck you if you get blackout drunk.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Just looking out for you.” He smiled, patting your thigh then getting out of the car. You rolled you eyes before following suit.

It was 10:35, the bass heavy music from changbin’s private home moving through the cool night air. He’d bought the house to throw parties in an attempt to avoid annoying neighbors, it was located in the forest, almost like a cabin.

Chan came up beside you, squeezing at your ass, “You good spending the night here? Changbin said he’s cool with us taking one of the guest rooms.” He winked at you. You nodded in agreement, biting at your lip.

The house was crowded with sweaty bodies that danced wildly to the pounding music. Chan’s lips pressed to your ear telling you he would go get the two of you drinks. So you mingled walking through the house.

“Y/n!” A voice called, you turned to find Changbin who was visibly and audibly being effected by the alcohol he consumed.

“Hey, Binnie!” You smiled, he was like a brother to you. He knew about you and Chan but he trusted Chan with his life and he knew he’d never hurt you.

“Where’s the party animal?”

“Right here.” Chan’s voice sounded as he came closer with two cups, ultimately handing you one before giving Chan a bro hug.

“Man I needed this.” Chan said before downing a sip of the strong beverage in his cup.

Changbin snorted, “You’re so dramatic.” He turned to you before sipping at his own cup, “Did you know your boyfriend was so into the theatrical scene y/n?”

Your cheeks blazed at the question, Chan taking notice only to punch him lightly in the arm. Changbin looked to him then you then back to Chan.

“Oh come on, just date already, what do you have to lose?” Changbin shrugged before gulping down more alcohol.

“Come on don’t take him too seriously, loosen up.” Chan said to you once Changbin had walked off to greet more people. You nodded drinking before allowing Chan to lead you to the crowd of dancing people.

But your thoughts lingered back to Changbin’s words. What did you have to lose? The trust and respect of your bestfriend? But, did Hyunjin really care what you did now a days? The answer was no, but you tried to convince yourself he would. You chugged the rest of the cup making Chan chuckle.

“Go easy there ok?” He said close to your ear, you waved him off before kissing his lips.

“I can handle a little alcohol Chan.” You smirked before dancing against him, or on him rather.

His veiny hands held your hips, as you swayed your hips. His head dropped on your shoulder and you heard him grunt lowly in your ear and you chuckled.

“That turned on already? You poor thing.” Chan’s head popped up instantly, his eyes narrowed at you.

“You better shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

“And if I don’t?” You tested, Chan scoffed lightly. He picked you up in the middle of the crowd and threw you over his shoulder.

“CHRISTOPHER!” You exclaimed not having expected his actions. Your cheeks where red, partly because you were upside down but also due to embarrassment the skirt you had on wasn’t that long.

When he did finally set you down it was in the privacy of a bedroom, the door to which was promptly shut behind him. He pulled your arm down signaling you to get on your knees which you did gladly. Now facing Chan’s 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, the front of his pants pulling tight. He undid his belt and the button of his pants before pushing his garments down just enough so he was free from the restraint.

You scooted towards him eagerly sitting on your heels and starring up at him through your lashes. The small nod he gave was all you needed before taking him in your mouth, you knew you wouldn’t have the control for long so you took advantage of the brief moment. Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, then taking him fully in your mouth little by little before pulling back. You knew it drove him crazy, and left him begging for more before he took the reigns. You knew Chan’s body well, you were fully aware of what pleased him, what made him feel good and he you.

You took all of him, the tip hitting the back of your throat lightly, then pulling off of him completely a string of saliva still connecting you. And with that Chan reached to your neck, carefully wrapping his fingers around it, before he brought his cock to your lips beginning to thrust into your mouth and down your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as you chocked around him, as spit dribbled down your chin.

Chan loved you like this, so pretty and at his dispense. It was times like these where his domineering side shown through, when his hand wrapped around your throat could feel himself. Times like these that he forget that you weren’t truly his yet, that there was another, who ironically happened to be his bestfriend. Chan loved you, you were just too blinded to see that, when he stayed when he held you until the sun came up the next morning, that it meant more.

•

Hyunjin and Heather showed up to the party, hand in hand, and a now drunk Changbin approached them.

“Hey love birds! Finally decided to come to a party, it’s been to long!” He slurred over his words, a wide smile on his lips.

“Hey Changbin, where’s everyone else?”

“Ah! Felix and Jisung are mixing drinks in the kitchen they’re not too bad, Jeongin is passed out on the couch, Seungmin and Minho are fighting about if cats or dogs are better and— Chan and Y/n should be around here somewhere,” Changbin looked around for them, “There they are!” He pointed at them, Hyunjin looked to see you leaving a room whipping your chin on the back of your hand. But the initial shock came from how Chan groped your behind and smirked before whispering something in your ear, to which you seemed to giggle.

He watched you leave Chan’s side and stalk into the kitchen. He couldn’t place the feeling of betrayal he felt in his chest, had he really been gone that long? Was he that distracted?

“Hey,” you greeted Jisung and Felix who were concentrated on making crazy strong drinks, “What is this?” You looked into a cup on the counter, it was pink like it had been poured straight from a bottle of pepto bismol.

“That my friend is the, 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧.” Felix answered in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone.

“How appetizing— can I have it?”

Jisung shrugged, “Sure, just be careful.” And so you took it, it was crazy sweet but you could taste the buzz of the alcohol on your tongue. It went straight to your head and you giggled at the numbing feeling.

“Y/n?” You turned, a smile on your face that quickly faltered, 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣.

“You’re here.”

“Can I talk to you? Outside please?” He asked, his voice was stern, you nodded following him out into the yard where you sat on a step of the deck. It was just us. Your heart couldn’t help but race, but when he turned around to face you again he seemed hurt.

“What?”

“What are you doing Y/n?” You gave him a look of confusion, “I saw you and Chan.” You instantly brought your cup to your lips, there was no way you were about to have this conversation sober, feeling glad for how strong the beverage was.

When you didn’t answer right away he continued, “So what, are you two dating?”

“No.” You took another sip.

“So you’re really just sleeping with him?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” You mumbled.

“Then do explain, especially the part where my two bestfriends are sleeping with eachother behind my back.”

“Would you ever date me?” You asked suddenly.

“What? How does that have anything to do with-“

“Just answer the question.”

“You’re my bestfriend Y/n.” Was all he said, 𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝.

“I’m not good enough.” You stated.

“Don’t say that.”

You shrugged, “I don’t meet your standards,”

“Y/n-“

“-You want someone whose perfect, skinny, pretty, So when you take off their clothes you don’t flinch. Someone perfect, and I’m not that. I-I’m damaged, broken, fat, ugly— you’d never love me. Sometimes I just wish I were heather.”

“What did you just say?”

“Hmm, which part?”

“The last part.”

“You’d never love me. What am I wrong?”

“Y/n, you know I love you-“

“But not like heather.” You stated taking another hefty sip of the alcoholic beverage in your hand, you still weren’t sure what was in it, but it sure helped to numb the heartache.

“You wish you were heather. That’s what you said right?” He asked, you couldn’t put together the emotion in his tone, due to the alcohol running through your system. You simply lifted the plastic cup in his direction before bringing it back down to your lips, letting the liquid slide down your throat once again. “So what are you saying?”

“I wish I were heather. You’re smart string-bean, figure it out.”

“Stop saying that.”

You snorted, “No can do string-bean, I’m just being honest, lying is bad you know.”

“Please stop wishing to be her.”

“Why?” You decided to test him, “but I do wish I were heather. I 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 wish I was heather. I wish you would love me like that.” You were on your feet now, stumbling forward to hyunjin, “I wish- I wish you would kiss me like I were heather, touch me like I were heather, fuck me like I were heather. So no, I won’t stop, because I really, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮, fucking wish I was hea-”

Your words were cut short by the unexpected lips on your own. You felt the warm tears of your bestfriend on your face before you saw them. 𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜? You wondered, 𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪? You shoved him off.

“Don’t you dare kiss me because you pity me!” You pointed at him, your lips still tingling.

“No, y/n that’s not it! I lo-“

“Just go back to your 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙, I’ll be going back to Chan now.” You slurred, turning your back on him.

“What so he can just fuck you like a whore and leave?!” You whipped back around to face him.

“Don’t you fucking dare, don’t you dare try to tell me what’s good for me now! Where the fuck have you been the past four months, huh?” Tears began to invade your vision, “You’re crazy thinking you can just come back into my life and tell me what to do with it! Chan was there, you weren’t. You can’t just kiss me, especially when you have a girlfriend. I still don’t even understand why you did that; why would you ever kiss me hyunjin? I’m not even 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛 as pretty as her.” You sighed, “Please just- just leave me alone from now on.”

This time when you turned back to the house you didn’t look back, just let the pounding music soothe your broken pieces. You were angry the way he indirectly called you a whore for sleeping with one man, and the way he couldn’t have been more wrong about the whole situation. Chan didn’t just fuck you and leave. There were of course times like that because he had things to do in life like any person, but most of the times he stayed, he helped you with a lot of things. He understood the things about you Hyunjin just simply didn’t get anymore, you didn’t blame him. He’d grown up much different than you had. He was practically raised to marry someone like heather, to have a perfect family with her.

You were never an option. And you never would be.

•

Chan held your hair back as you threw up in the toilet. His free hand rubbing circles on your back, in order to soothe you.

When you finally leaned back from the toilet and against the wall, Chan brought a towel up to wipe off your face. The way he smiled so warmly at you, with not a hint of disgust making you melt.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much.” You sighed, “I’m sorry for being a burden.”

He shook his head intently, “You’re never a burden to me, Y/n,” he kissed your forehead, “Far from it.”

•••

The years that followed that night at the party were long, filled with new obstacles, but that’s life. Chan helped you through the brute of it, he was by your side without a question or complaint.

You fell in love, with someone who you knew loved you the same, in a small apartment at 3am sitting at the piano next to him watching him play the instrument effortlessly. It was in that moment were you realized, Hyunjin had faded from your thoughts. That it’d been years since you even spoke to your bestfriend. But you knew it was for the best, he was happy and so were you.

Things worked out, maybe not in the way you imagined or with whom. But you wouldn’t change this ending for the world, you learned you didn’t need to be heather to have happiness. You just needed to be you.