#and Lust likes dressing Cross up in new outfits (everyone thinks it's great Cross is loosening up and meeting new friends cuz Lust introduce

[spotaus]

Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)

Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)

Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?

[finelinevogue]

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[fuxkingmarvel]

Party Favors

Summary: Cops are called after a noise complaint. The town’s sheriff arrives at your Halloween Party.

Pairing: Modern Day Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: smut, oral sex (male), degrading language, manipulation, age gap (reader is 20)

Parents gone for the weekend.

What better way to celebrate Halloween? It’s a small town and your house was the ideal place for a party!

“Are you okay?” You questioned as your best friend pointed to the window.

“Hello... don’t tell me you’re hiding from your ex” you laughed trying to lighten the mood as she shook her head.

“No. Worse. I think someone called the cops” Your friend bit her lip, as she grabbed her purse.

“Look, I don’t need to get some ticket by the sheriff. I think I’m just going to head out before he comes.” You sighed lightly at your friends words.

Great! Leave me here with this mess, even though you helped plan the damn party.

Before you knew it, the siren of the sheriff’s cop car alerted everyone. Some of the less drunken students got the memo and began to scatter away. While others, truly didn’t give a damn.

You groaned lightly, peeking through the blinds of the window to see Sheriff Bodecker exit his car.

You watched as he walked with confidence towards your front door. Your eyes roaming him from top to bottom. He could definitely manhandle you if he wanted. Clearly, he was way too old for you.

But god, did he look good in a uniform.

“We meet again, Miss Y/N. You know I thought after your first year in college, you would have learned your lesson” Bodecker explained but the only thing you could concentrate on was the way his tongue played with the toothpick in his mouth.

Your eyes fixacted on the other ways he could put his tongue into use.

“Y/N”

You try to hide your blush before meeting his eyes. “Sorry Sheriff... What’s the problem here?” You question shyly, your arms crossed as you lean against your front door.

He licked his lips, his eyes roaming your body lingering a little too long on your breasts. Maybe that was your fault as you decided to dress up as a sexy devil, the outfit exentuating your breasts dangerously so.

He chuckles dramatically. “You drunk, darlin’... because that’s a stupid question if you ask me”. You choke on his words, your face feeling hot.

“Got a noise complaint. It is Halloween after all.” Lee casually states, stepping in close as he tries to peek into your house. His hands press on your hips and you could smell his cologne.

“Mind if I check the premise” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’re hiding something from me...” You shake your head, widening your door, as your house is now empty. The last stranglers leaving through the back door.

Lee steps inside. Empty red cups carelessly thrown on the rug and table. Busted beer cars on the side. Even accessories from people’s outfits are on the floor. He shakes his head as he kicks the can.

“Quite some party you had, darlin” You cross your legs from the way his new nickname for you, rolls off his tongue.

“Now, where is he?” You furrow your eyebrows, watching Lee’s movements as he enters the kitchen. He places his sheriff hat on the counter. You follow behind him.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

You start to clean up the cans off the floor. Embarrassed by the mess from the party. “In my dreams” you simply state, laughing nervously as you dump the cans into a garbage bag.

Lee walks behind you, trapping you between the kitchen counter. He lifts your chin up, his blue eyes boring into yours. Goosebumps shooting up on your skin.

“Now, don’t lie to me” his voice becomes lower and rougher. “Someone has to be takin’ good care of this cunt. Maybe Arvin Russell... he’s about your age” You gasp at his words, your body becoming tense as you fingers wrap around the marbel counter.

Lee spreads your thighs in an instant, his slight hard on throbbing against you.

“I leave you with too many warnings. I think this time, you return the favor” he smirks slyly, his thumb stroking your cheek and then your lips. You open your mouth slightly and Lee pushes his thumb inside. Your tongue swirling around him as his eyebrows jump up in suprise and a smirk grows on your face.

You weren’t expecting this for the night, but you craved Bodecker for the longest.

Always imagined how he tasted, how good he was in bed. Lee was right. He gave you multiple warnings throughout your college years. Your friends stating the Sheriff had a weird secret obsession with you.

“He’s a sad lonely fuck, Y/N! His wife left him and now he probably jerks off into Pepsi Cups to the thought of you!” You shook your head and covered your ears. “Guys stop! You don’t know what you’re talking about” Your friends scoffed at your foolishness.

Lee palms himself lightly as you suck on his thumb. Before you knew it, you were popping off his thumb and ready to suck something bigger. You bit your lip in hesitation before sinking down on the hardwood floor. The outline of his cock pushing against his trousers.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this for the longest. I see the way you look at me. Come on, take out my cock, darlin. Play with it.” He breaths in deeply as his hands find their way through your hair.

You fumble with his zipper before pulling him out, your eyes widening at the size. Holy shit... Lee’s eyes darken, grabbing his cock and dragging it against your lips before he uses his cock to slap your cheek. You moan in ecstasy as His pre-cum smears on your lips. You lick your lips before gently sucking on his tip.

Lee groans roughly before pushing himself in your mouth. You whimper lightly as his hand grips your hair pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

It felt good but so wrong. Your knees digging into your floor as you gave a blowjob to your Town’s sheriff. Nevertheless, you pumped the rest of his shaft but Lee wanted more. He starts finding a frantic rythm causing you to gag.

“Fuck—! You like my big cock.. better than these college boys! Yeah, it is!” He praised thrusting in and out of your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Just like that, taking my cock like a good little whore” His cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, as tears ran down your eyes.

“I always knew you were good for something darlin’, gunna cum in that pretty mouth and you’re going to fuckin’ swallow it all” You whimpered at his words. Your mouth being used as his personal fuck toy.

He rolled his eyes back getting closer to his release before pulling out of you. Your appearance was messy. Mascara running down your face. Your saliva and his pre-cum connecting from your lips to his cock. You looked up at him panting softly, your thighs rubbing against yourself wishing they could get their own release.

“Stick your tongue out, gunna paint your mouth and face” he spat, as he pumped himself fast you opened your mouth fully.

“Fuck— I’m cumming!” His release falling onto your tongue and face. You swallowed him all, even dragging your fingers across your cheeks and sucking on any last remnants of his cum.

You stood up quickly, your nails raking over his body. You wanted more. Kiss him. Have him touch you.

Anything.

Lee stroked your cheek lazily, looking at you with lustful eyes.

“My turn?” You dared to ask, tilting your head as you gave him innocent eyes. You leaned in to kiss him but he pushed you back by your hips.

“What—?”

“This is your punishment, darlin” he put his half softening cock back into his boxers, lifting up his trousers and zipping himself up. He grabbed his sherrif hat from the counter and placed it on his head. You whined lightly at his actions following him like a little puppy.

“That’s not fair-! You can’t just—“ you huffed dramatically. Your hormones spiking up with each move.

“Shit, don’t be so dramatic” he slapped your ass roughly before casually heading to your living room. You gasped stopping in your tracks. His cocky attitude peeking through.

“Now I don’t wanna hear another complaint, or Sheriff Bodecker will have to come back again and teach you another lesson.”

“Oh— And Happy Halloween.” He winked at you before striding out your house like nothing had ever happened.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01

(Masterpost) (Next Episode)

Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it! 

Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll! 

Prologue: The Battle of Mordor

The Demise of our Protagonist

Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for. 

This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day. 

Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler

Anyway...cliff time

Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides. 

This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.

In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.

This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me? 

(Much, much more after the cut!)

The Amulet Situation

This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.

Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt. 

Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.

This is thousands of cultivators having a battle.  What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?

 Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.

Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:

*viewership nods indulgently*

This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.  

He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.

The Present Day

Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea

Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu. 

How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”

Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.  

...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*

Gank Your Soul

Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (��� pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment. 

The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai​)

The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

The Demise of our Trill Host

Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in. 

Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.

He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.

Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People

Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this

to this. 

He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.

And he is ALL in on being crazy. 

OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has. 

Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:

This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.

My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.

Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life

Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams. 

Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).

Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit

Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan

Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”

Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting

Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse. 

Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure.  Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!

This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them! 

This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners. 

Narrator: Her son is dead.

Meanwhile, 

Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.

Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time

Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.

 All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.

Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.

Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.

Servant: it’s a ghost! 

WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit

Babies: It’s a spirit

LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost

Our Protagonist gets the FOH

Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around. 

Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning. 

Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses. 

On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up. 

Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!

Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!

[katerix]

(How old is New Vegas? And it’s still my fav part! I feel like I need more Raul content even after all these years🥺)

Drink with the living dead

Characters: Raul Tejada x Reader Summary:  Courier and her companion returned to New Vegas after a long wandering to get a drink and gamble, but faced serious inhospitality. Six was not ready to leave her friend behind, so they changed their plans. Warnings: - Words: 2781

***

It was almost half past midday, when a dusty dirty road to New Vegas welcomed the wanderers with just another sandstorm without any declaration of war. Courier’s mirror aviator sunglasses could hardly stand that gusts of winds, so she decided to hide it in the pocket of her jacket until the better times. Six and her ghoul-companion were on foot for nearly five hours, and now the hightower of «Lucky 38» looked huge in contradiction from its look an hour ago.

It was not their first visit to New Vegas, but every time she saw a glowing and sparkling casino’s signs, she was bringing up the idea of going there and wasting an evening gambling and drinking. Just like everyone does. The fact that she spent here some time, passing all the entertaining places by, met with Mr. House and performed several missions for NCR ambassador, but still never took a break to try some of those things, these poor fellows from all Mojave wasteland were arriving for - was a crime by its definition.

Coddling this thought, Courier continued to trudge the nasty weather, until they walked up to the Northern gates of Freeside.

- What’s the plan when we reach Strip, boss? - asked Raul, shaking his dull-green jumpsuit down: it all was full of pervasive grains of sand, as well as the girl’s clothes.

- At first I wanna visit the «Lucky 38» apartment and change the outfit, then go to the bar and win big in the kazino!

- Perfect plan, chief, ironclad like my revolver. - the ghoul was sarcastic as usual, but didn’t evince any sight of disagreement.

When she turned around to continue movement, he added: “Wait, amigo, there's a tuft of straw stuck under your collar.” - and carefully extracted an annoying piece of flora, stuck to during the storm.

“Gracias!” - Six smiled widely and made a fast gesture of gratitude with her hand. Without wasting time, they passed heavy metallic gates.

Freeside met companions with a funky, stinking smell. She still couldn't get used to it. Dusty air seemed to mar the cityscape: it looked much pale and lighter than from the outside. Just fifteen minutes and they’ll reach the destination. The picture couldn’t be called unusual for this time of the day in this part of town: one or two shabby hobos against the dingy walls, kids in wrecked clothes playing a tag-game in the area of the «Mick & Ralph's», random citizens with roving glances, sneaking around, wasting their time in an idle attempts to figure out how to spend their life in this Dump. On the other hand, there are many places where people live even worse: take a look at Westside, for instance.

«What a hopeless sight, - thought the girl. - Hope the Followers are really able to do something about this in the future».

- Something on your mind, boss? - it felt like nothing could hide from Raul’s inquisitive look.

- Just thinking. I find this picture quite dismal, like there’s no tomorrow, and humanity is still doomed. Like there’s no chance to restore life, as it was before.

- When we are on the road again, I’ll tell you about the Football Cup in Mexico, if you like to hear another one “before the Bomb” story. - he obviously picked up on her mood and decided to cheer up the girl, carefully diverting the theme.

- I do. Have you attended it?

- Sure thing. That was a big day. We drove to the capital to see it with our own eyes.

- Sounds pretty good! Let’s not ruin the intrigue.

- You asked.

They passed a small cross-road, which didn't have to be called like that anymore, as it was just one of the ghosts of the past with it’s burned skeletons of cars, left here motionless as evidence of human lost ambitions. The air in this part of the town was stale, despite the fact that they were in the streets, the smell of some broiling meat and spoiled vegetables was sticky like an ant's nectar. Sudden wild cryings and shouts were heard from the nearest dead end. 

One glance was enough to understand that the Kings had cornered swashers, their prey, who were too fucked up and all-fired sure of themselves to attack the town’s main showrunners just a couple of minutes ago. And the Courier was not going to do anything about that: she herself was nearly butchered by one of them, shown up from nowhere. If it was not her loyal companion who dealt with it with one precise shot, she, probably, would be dead by now.

It took more than ten minutes to cover the distance between the East and Strip gates - right now there was no reason to hurry. As they got closer, the protectrons took up their positions immediately. One of them articulated “Move along” with a familiar metallic cold of lifeless voice of his, when companions were passing by.

“Never liked these guys. They are like slow mines: you never know what they do the next second.” - grunted out the Courier, as two of them found themselves on the first line of the Strip between “Lucky 38” and “Gomorrah”.

“Hey, so who is an old one here?” - the ghoul chuckled in response.

She went ahead, so he could never see how her lips slightly bended in a ready-to-laugh smile.

***

Presidential luxe met nomads with a deep, wrapping silence of a broad, gloomy space. This was definitely not the place a person could wish to stay in: walls with, once being gorgeous - now - greasy dark-wine wallpapers were giving an oppressive feeling. Six was happy that they didn’t have to stay here for long. Only to sleep or change the outfit maybe.

She got near to the wardrobe in her room, where the majority of things, accumulated during the long travels, were stored. Took out two dresses, went to the guest-room with a billiards. Raul was civilly waiting for her there.

- What you think? Which one?

He raised up his head, looked from under the sunglasses for several seconds, examining, and answered in a casual tone:

- It’s really up to you, boss. - made a pause, then added, like a little confused: - But I like the pink one. Might look graceful.

- Great! Exactly the one I wanted to pick.

The ghoul just gave her a hesitant nod, wondering if she noticed that detail. Courier went back to her sleeping-room and returned after some minutes, informing: “Ready to go! The next stop is “Ultra-Luxe”, yee-haw!”

***

After a while they were in the street again. All they needed was just to reach the second line of the Strip and pass a hundred meters to the “Ultra-Luxe”. Lots of NCR soldiers were hanging around, goofing off, as long as they had a chance, and indulging in lust in the nearest private clubs. Nothing unexpectable. When they passed by a small group of drunk, barely balancing on their feet big guys, Six suddenly heard a hushed voice from behind her back, addressing his teammates. “Do they let ghouls on the Strip now? Perfect, let’s make it a spooky ghost-town.”

“Yeah. That’s why civilization will start floating away again. Our attempts are meaningless.”

Only just Courier wanted to turn around and shout out something to those sons of a b or event take out a gun and shoot beneath their feet, Raul caught her arm:

- Hey, hey, calm down, that’s okay. NCRs are many here, you know, even for a dashing rider like you, boss. Even with me backing you up. From behind the farthest stone.

- But we can’t simply swallow that shit, Raul!

He just spreaded his hands:

- Fine, then go shoot them and be killed by protectrones because of two drunk idiots. Very helpful, chief. I’ll stay all alone, without my beloved companion but with a protected pride. Thank’s.

Six stood still for some seconds and nodded after that.

- Fine. Whatever.

Then merely continued walking in the direction of the cazino. The ghoul hesitated for a bit. He understood that she was acting out of good intentions and she just wanted to protect her partner, as she was the one who had a right of speech here. And that made his heart melt and he was silently praising her for that, because nobody seemed to do anything like that for him in a while. But picking a fight with these dummies, who fill the streets of Strip like water fills the canyon, was not wise.

“Sorry for that, Niña. I really appreciate what you do. I just don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. You don’t notice, but there are often lots of sidelong looks and hardly heard whisperings along the way. I'm used to it and don’t want it to affect you.” - he tried to lighten things up.

The girl turned her head a bit just for him to see her glance softening.

- Let’s just reach the bar and relax.

*** 

An unexpected trouble struck them further - black line has not ended yet. Courier already picked her place at the bar desk in the distant hall and ordered a glass of whiskey, when a bartendress leaned over and said in a low tone:

“I’m sorry, but here, in “Ultra-Luxe”, we serve only the citizens and guests of the Strip. I’m able to bring a drink only for you, ma’m.”

That was the last drop of her patience. The girl slowly raised her head at the bartendress, ready to blow up, and responded:

- Are you fucking kidding me?

- That’s the rule. I don’t need problems. You can ask any guard or another worker.

She bowed her head and gave a fast hidden glance at her ghoul-companion. He was sitting there next to her and looking straight at his arms crossed on the desk, like he had nothing to do with it. But he, of course, heard every word. His eyes weren't moving, just a finger was slightly knocking the air, producing a rhythm he alone knew. Six couldn’t even imagine what her friend might feel at the moments like that. An anger came upon her.

“Are you all that scumbags here? Keep your drinks for acceptable ones. Ma’m.” - the girl said, getting up from her barstool and heading towards the exit.

Raul stood up without a word and, as he always did, followed Courier. He had mixed emotions. On the one hand he was glad they left that place and that Six is such a kind and loyal partner, but on the other hand he felt a little guilty for himself. After all, it was him who was the reason for such inhospitality in some kind of place. Even now she couldn’t get what she wished for so hard. Her idea of “winning big” in the kazino seemed to be falling apart, as together they won’t be even let to the gambling table. And she, obviously, won’t leave him in the street and have fun on her own, and an old ghoul didn’t want to be a ball and chain.

- Boss? Are you sure we need to leave? Maybe you’d better stay there? And I’d wait for you somewhere else or go back to “Lucky 38”. Fresh air won’t do any harm for my old lungs.

- What are you even talking about? You know, even the best drink worth nothing, if there’s no one to share it with.

- You have a heart of gold, chiff. - these words came fast, in an undertone, as if he was embarrassed, - Well, I saw a small sign in Freeside. I believe we’ve never been in that part of the city before.

- Hope it’s not an «Atomic Wrangler».

- Nope.

- Great! You lead. They passed the ruins, generously spread all over the suburbs, while every their step sounded louder thanks to trash, small pieces of brick and other rubbish. The sun was already going down and the heat was getting less intense.

Finally they reached a small inconspicuous wooden door. Only a little sign next to it represented that place as a bar.

As they entered, nothing changed. There was not much to be changed. There were no crowds of gamblers, no fancy casino machines and no shiny-polished bar desk. Bartender was a man in old ragged clothes, probably in his late fifties. He was slowly wiping cut glasses with a gray dusty piece of fabric full of holes.

When the companions stepped in the room he just looked up at them without raising up his head and got back to his plain, simple activity. There were not many customers besides the two of them. A woman was sleeping on the table in the far corner - her head rested on her arms while her shoulders were calmly going up and down. Another guest settled down at the edge of the bar desk.

“Fancy,” - giggled the girl.

“Ah, let’s get down. Ladies first.” - Raul just waved his hand.

Six made a few steps in the direction of the bar desk and sat down, Raul followed her.

“Barman! Two beers, please”. - she laid some bottle caps in front of him.

The barkeeper took them and then put two opened bottles onto the surface.

“Bon appetit.”

Courier took her bottle up and clinked it loudly with Rauls one. His soft non-blinking sight of half closed eyes was locked on hers, while he made a sip. His heart always went pop when it felt like there were just two of them in the world, though he never showed that.

Raul looked around and suddenly his eyes stopped on a guitar lurked behind the racks.

“Hey, can I…?”

The barman followed ghoul’s gaze and shrugged his shoulders: “This piece of wood? Be my guest.”

In the next second he was on his feet. The courier raised her eyebrows as she almost forgot if she saw him that agile. Raul approached the metal shelves, put aside some garbage and waste paper, then carefully extracted the instrument and blew away the dust.

Six and the bartender were watching him closely. The ghoul got back to his chair, sat down crossing his legs to position the guitar more comfortably. Then pulled the first string to check out the tuning. It was no surprise that it was out of tune, so the next minute Raul spent trying to fix the instrument.

When everything, as he thought, was ready, he played a couple of notes in fingerstyle to flex some life back into his fingers. After nearly 200 years the skill was obviously weakened.

“I didn’t know that you could play the guitar.” - said the girl.

“Sure you didn’t. I never told about that.” - he looked back at her with a little smirk, - “What was the point if there were no music instruments left anyway?”

He laid his right arm down on the body of the guitar, fingers on the cracked wooden surface, and took a deep breath.

At first Courier could hardly hear or see the slightest movement of ghoul's fingers on strings, but soon the sound became more clear. She was sitting there with a bottle in her hand, unable to look away from her companion.

The sound of slow mexican melody floated across the room, filling every corner of the room with itself. The windows were closed with wooden boards from the outside, so the sunlight was trickling down through narrow gaps between them. Warm light was leaving gold-yellow lines on the walls, tables and the bardesk where the Courier and Raul were sitting. She could even see the tiniest specks of dust freeze in the air. The ghouls face was half hidden by a shadow and the sunbeams were highlighting one of his eyes which now looked like a beautiful transparent crystal and his hands all covered with veins and partially with thin skin.

The whole space imbued with peace and calm, even the impenetrable bartender set his glass aside and leaned his head on the hand, listening to the sensual music.

They travelled together for a while now, but never before had Six seen him the way she did now. Something new was arising in her soul.

“Hey chief,” - Raul closed his eyes and slightly threw back his head grinning a little, fingers still dancing over the strings. - ”You’re the best friend and partner one could ever wish for, you know. Thank you for always being on my side.”

“Raul, I’ll never leave my partner in crime behind!” - she chuckled as she felt like something pinned her heart.

The ghoul continued playing the tune without opening his eyes. A grin turned into a soft smile and the feeling of joy span all over him for the first time in a while.

“I’m following you to the world’s end, boss.”

Also, here’s a link to this fanfic on my AO3 (gif is mine \ use credits if repost)

[knchins]

Sex Tapes - Todoroki Shouto

Summary: Billionaire playboy Todoroki Shouto has a secret collection of personal sex tapes and tonight he plans on adding to his stash.

Pairing: Celebrity!Shouto x Idol!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 4k

Bingo Prompt: Sex Tapes

Warnings: Vaginal sex, hair pulling, unprotected sex, hidden cameras, filming without permission, mild dirty talk, pull-out method

Notes: I was supposed to finish this last Saturday but life just has to get in the way sometimes. Well, here it is and I hope it was worth the wait. This was for @bnhabookclub​ NSFW weekly prompt "celebrity x celebrity". In this reader is a rising idol star that had just gotten her big break while Shouto is a young billionaire. I hope he's not too OOC! I may make this into a short series but haven’t decided.

 Todoroki Shouto adjusted his Windsor knot while looking at his reflection in the mirror. In just half an hour he’d be making his grand entrance at one of Japan’s largest charity balls that beckoned only the most famous of the country to attend. It was always considered one of the highest honors to be invited, a decree of one's success during the previous year.

 This was his sixth one, having become Japan’s youngest billionaire at the age of eighteen through risky business decisions and investments that all paid off in the end. Being a man of money and status had its perks. Women fell at his feet, he always got the best service in restaurants, and he could afford anything in the entire world that his mother may dream of having. Not that she ever asked for much, but he spoiled her all the same.

 A smirk pulled across his lips as he looked over his reflection. He never went home empty handed after one of these things. Young celebrities wanted nothing more than to climb the social ladder by riding his dick. He thought that his taste was impeccable when it came to...well, everything. Dates, food, cars, houses, he only wanted the best of the best and he was sure to get it.

 Every year Shouto had a tradition that none of his late night partners knew about. Hidden in the lavish bedroom in his penthouse were three small cameras and one well placed microphone. He quite enjoyed the secret tape collection he had. They were ordered by year and last name in a locked down file folder on his computer. Hard copies were kept in a secret safe. You never knew when you needed to cause a good scandal to take the eyes off of something that was maybe more sinister.

 He checked his ruby and diamond watch, the bejeweled face matching his iconic two-toned hair. Right on time, he mused as he checked himself over one last time before departing for the penthouse’s elevator. He made it down to the valet where a white limo had been waiting for him.

 The driver opened the door as Shouto said nothing. He entered, not even bothering to marvel at the red interior. The first few times he had ridden in his custom limo, it had amazed him at how well the designers were able to make his wishes come to life. Now it just seemed all the same to him. If you’ve ridden in one, you’ve ridden in them all. Painting it a different color only made it interesting for a short amount of time.

 When he arrived, there was a sea of expensive cars and limousines as far as he could see. He was silently thankful that large crowds like this didn’t bother him. While being with a big group of people wasn’t what he preferred, it also didn’t give him any kind of negative feeling such as anxiety or nervousness. It probably helped that he was great at working a room no matter how many were inside of it.

 The valet opened the door for him and he stepped out onto the long red carpet. Cameras were flashing as paparazzi stormed the limo, wanting to get a glimpse of his sharp white tux with bright red accents. His hair in perfect placement, having just gotten his undercut touched up that morning just for the event. He gave the cameras a sinful smirk that had all of the ladies sighing dreamily. If he were into small fry then maybe he’d take a few home and make them into stars. But no, he was after a much bigger fish tonight.

 He took his time walking to the building, enjoying the attention from the photographers and journalists. He entertained a few by doing some quick interviews about the event and his outfit. He praised his designers and stylists that worked hard to make him look the best, and that was probably the only honest thing he said to them.

 After nearly an hour, he ascended the stone staircase into the science museum where the ball was held. More people had arrived by this point and the place was filling nicely. He figured he was almost to capacity by the time he finally went inside.

 His mismatched eyes ran over the crowd, looking for one guest in particular. He knew from her social media that she would be here tonight and he was more than eager to start baiting her to get her to go home with him. He didn’t think it would be particularly difficult. It never was for him.

 Shouto’s gaze fell onto a beautiful young woman dressed in a tight dark blue dress with a long slit up the left side, exposing a fair amount of leg. He grabbed two glasses of champagne as he strode towards her at an even pace, not wanting to risk showing any sort of excitement.

 “Miss Y/L/N, how nice to finally meet you in person.” He said to the idol star in front of him. Her cheeks dusted pink in a light blush as she took one of the glasses from him. Everyone who was anyone knew who Todoroki Shouto was.

 She had just recently broken into the scene of stardom, having formerly been a member of a popular idol group. She started her solo career about a year ago and was finally a big name all on her own. The attention from other powerful people was still relatively new to her, her inexperience served as a kind of amusement for Shouto. If she  really   wanted to be a star, then he’d make her a star.

 “Mr. Todoroki, it’s nice to meet you.” She said, trying to hide her nerves. If she somehow spurned the young billionaire then she could ruin her own career. The mere thought had her walking on eggshells.

 He gave her one of his famous, dazzling smiles. “Please, call me Shouto. Mr. Todoroki is my father.” He teased and she chuckled lightly at the joke that admittedly wasn’t very original. “You look very lovely tonight, perhaps you’d like to dance with me later?”

 She looked up at him, blinking slowly as she processed the request. An excited smile crossed her soft lips, “I would love to Mr-” She stopped, “Shouto. Perhaps after I finish my drink?”

 Shouto nodded, sipping at his glass. They continued to make small talk, mostly about business and her rise to fame. When she asked him about his personal life he deflected, turning the conversation back to her. She didn’t seem to notice that he was doing this, which worked out better for him.

 As the night went on, he noticed her face flushing more and more, giggles spilling from her any time he teased her. They danced, ate  hors d'oeuvres  , and drank more of the bubbly alcohol than either of them probably should have. Shouto found himself becoming increasingly handsy as the time passed, first her upper back, then down to the gentle curve of her spine, her hips, and finally as they were slowly dancing he chanced to grab a handful of her ass.

  The idol star leaned into his toned chest, resting her head on his shoulder so that her breath fanned against his neck. She didn’t protest his touch, sighing softly instead of pulling away. The champagne had put her nerves around him at ease, and by now she was feeling as if she’d known him for years. In a way she had, always reading about him in magazines and seeing him on TV talking about his latest business ventures. He always found a way to stay in the spotlight.

 “Would you like to see how the rich live?” He asked, keeping his tone light in a way to show her that there was no pressure if she didn’t feel comfortable. Despite being such a playboy, Shouto never forced a woman to come home with him. That included heavy persuasion to get them into his bed. He had too much respect for the opposite sex to coerce them into doing anything they didn’t want to do.

 She looked up at him, blinking in time with the downbeat of the music playing. “Your place?” She asked, not bothering to be coy about it. She just wanted clarification for what he was asking of her before she agreed to anything.

 He simply nodded his head, a few red hairs daring to dip in front of his eyes. She reached up and brushed them back into place without much thought, “I’d love to.” She responded, suddenly feeling breathless by how close they were. Typically she didn’t do things like this, however they had such a profound connection that she decided to cave in to her wants for once.

 Typically she lived a very rigid lifestyle, adhering herself to strict rules to stay on top of her game. She had already broken several rules of her diet tonight and would more than likely regret it in the morning. However, Shouto’s presence seemed to make her forget about all of that. All she wanted was to spend more time with him, and thoroughly enjoy herself in the process. Maybe the calories burned through some extracurricular activities would help equal out all of the champagne she drank and pastries she ate. One could only hope.

 As the night wound down, and after Shouto did a grand display of his wealth by buying a few very expensive art pieces at the charity auction, the two wound up in his custom limo. The young star was not above throwing herself at him, his light touches across intimate areas throughout the night had her wanting him more and more. It was obvious what his intentions with her were, and she was completely on board.

 After marveling the beautiful interior of the luxury car, she turned to the side so she could face him. A gentle hand found his face, cupping his cheek as his two-toned eyes stared her down. Behind them was a lustful fire burning brightly, ready to explode. He stopped hesitating for the first time that night as he leaned in and brought their lips together at last.

 A needy whine left her, passing through her resolve with ease as her lips parted for his eager tongue. The kiss was sensual and greedy, hands aimlessly pawing through each other’s clothes as they wanted nothing more than to be closer.

 Shouto pulled away, knowing he had to wait for the main action. He didn’t have any recording devices within the limo, which in hindsight felt like a huge mistake. The night started as a simple conquest, but after talking to her and getting to know his little idol, the desire blossomed into something much more intense. This was no longer a simple catch for him. He wasn’t just going through the motions, he was actually putting in effort and if he hadn’t been inebriated then it probably would have frightened him.

 She looked at him with enlarged pupils, wondering why he pulled away. The playboy chuckled at the expression and a blush lit up her entire face. “I can either be a gentleman or we can do this here, I don’t believe I can do both.” He admitted, only adding fuel to her embarrassment. It clearly wasn’t rejection, however it did somehow feel that way just the tiniest bit.

 As they rode back to the building that housed his penthouse, he put an arm around her shoulder, tips of his fingers brushing the bare skin there. Even though it was light, it still seemed to set her ablaze. She shifted so that their sides and legs were touching, needing the closeness as she squeezed her thighs together. Something about him just made her so incredibly turned on that it was hard to keep her hands to herself (or off herself?) while they waited.

 When they finally parked out front, her hand darted for the door handle. Shouto let out another laugh as he reeled her back to him. “Hold on, sweetheart, I pay someone for that.” He couldn’t stop the amused look from crossing his features as a pout made its way onto her soft lips.

 A moment later the door opened. She took the hand that was outstretched to her and let it guide her out of the vehicle. A bright flash of light caused her to wince, though she was temporarily blinded she could hear the shudder of a camera. They just never give up, she thought bitterly as they called out to her, asking what she was doing with Todoroki Shouto at this time of night.

 Shouto appeared beside her, obviously unaffected by the paparazzi. He’d dealt with them for most of his life now, his father also being quite famous. They were just little insects that didn’t deserve his attention.

 He put an arm around his prize, his palm on the small of her back as he took her inside. The building security kept the onlookers at bay, not allowing them to come too close to the doorway. “Just ignore them.” He murmured into her ear, “they thrive on attention.”

 She nodded her head as they went through the glass doors. They went far back into the building, through a maze of corridors to a private elevator that could only be called when activated by his key. She tried not to marvel at the grandiose decor of the bottom floor. So far she couldn’t imagine what his penthouse would look like.

 Shouto inserted a silver key into the lock, turning it before pressing the call button.He removed his key and a few seconds later there was a high pitched chime before the gold doors opened. They went inside and he pressed the button for the top floor.

 They stood in a comfortable if not pleasurable silence as Shouto’s hand drifted downwards to her ass again. She acted as if she didn’t notice, though there was a tinge of pink on her cheeks as he gave her ass a small pat when the doors opened to reveal his lavish penthouse.

 She walked inside, awestruck at the expensive decor and beautiful open layout. It was even more magnificent then what she had expected, though in all honesty she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Despite her celeb status, she wasn’t nearly wealthy enough to have anything bigger than an upper class apartment. It was a comfortable living, but it was nothing like this.

 Shouto wasted no time in guiding her into the large master bedroom. The king sized bed was adorned with silk sheets and a plush duvet. “Strip for me, sweetheart.” He murmured into her ear in a low voice, “dance for me like you do on stage.”

 He moved away from her, loosening his tie and shedding his jacket and vest as he sat on the edge of the bed. The singer stared at him before slowly starting to dance to an inner beat, unzipping her dress in the process and letting it fall to the floor.

 She expertly stepped out of it before smoothly taking off her heels. Keeping her pace slow and deliberate, she removed her stockings, only stopping when she was reduced to nothing but a pair of bra and panties.

 The billionaire was captivated by everything about her. Her rhythmic dance, the soft and bare skin, and the sensual expression that graced her face. He was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it open for her to take in his sculpted chest and abs.

 Her tongue came out to wet her lips, moving to straddle his lap. She rolled her hips against him, grinding her sex against his thighs. Shouto grabbed her upper legs, forcing her even closer as he captured her mouth with his own in a kiss that was a whirlwind of lips, tongue, and teeth.

 Shouto changed their positions so that he was on top of her, devouring her with his mouth as he moved his hips against hers. He quickly finished taking off his shirt. The only thing separating them now was their underwear and his pants. This didn’t stop her from feeling his hard shaft press against her pussy, his movements stimulating her clit slightly. It was enough of a sensation to make her whine needily for him, taking a fistful of his multicolored hair into her hand to force the kiss to go even deeper.

 He growled, tearing off her bra in order to fondle her breasts, tweaking the soft nipples until they were hardened peaks. His mouth ripped from hers and left a trail of smoldering kisses down the small expanse of her neck, nipping the flesh at the most sensitive points that had her gasping for some kind of release.

 Her hands moved to his pants, managing somehow to get them off without being able to see them. He kicked them out from around his ankles, enjoying the smaller amount of resistance against his straining erection.

 His fingers caught the elastic of her thong, sliding it downwards off her legs, making her untangle them from around his waist. Once she was completely nude he pressed a thumb against her engorged clit, eliciting a whimper from his conquest. He moved the digit in slow, agonizing circles that had her panting and keening for more. She had never felt so untouched in her entire life.

 “S-Shouto,” She rasped, “P-please!” She wasn’t sure how much more of his taunts she could take. His mouth had found the swell of her breasts, leaving purpling hickies across both of them. His eyes flickered up to look at her face, seeing the desperation infiltrating her features. He felt like he had hardly even touched her yet. He chalked it up to inexperience, she wasn’t known to go on many dates or have a steady partner.

 “Do you need my cock that badly, Y/N?” He asked quizzically, pulling his face from between her breasts. “Your body hasn’t stopped begging for me since the limo.” At the end of his statement, he pinched the delicate bundle of nerves to get his point across. The action caused her to buck her hips in a feeble attempt to try to get out of his grip, but Shouto merely laughed in response.

 He stood away from her and slid down his thin boxers. Instantly her teeth sunk into her lower lip as the sight of his hardened member, the tip nearly touching his belly button. There was a thin trail of multicolored hair connecting the small divot in his stomach to his groin, the colors split perfectly down the middle the same way as they were on the top of his head.

 “I’m going to need you to do something for me first, doll.” He said as he climbed onto the bed and settled back. There was a smirk plastered on his face now, “Before I fuck you, I want you to give me a little taste.”

 He watched as she sat up, her entire body flushed as she crawled to sit between his legs. One tentative hand reached out to stroke his shaft as her soft tongue lapped at the pre-cum glistening on his head. Shouto bit back a moan as he watched her, his eyes flicking to one of the several hidden cameras and giving it a wink.

 The singer didn’t notice him, too busy concentrating on the task at hand. Her tongue swirled as she slowly led him into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks in an attempt to elicit some kind of sound from him. “That’s it,” He cooed, his hand finding its way into her tresses, “suck my dick like a good little idol.”

 She kept her eyes closed, too embarrassed to look up at him as she moved her head faster, hand still giving attention to the part of his length that wouldn’t fit within her mouth. After a few minutes, Shouto let out a small sigh of content before wrenching her off of him by tugging on her hair.

 He was smiling as she caught her breath, maneuvering them so she was on all fours in front of him. He aligned himself up to her soaking cunt, running his tip along her folds. “Wow, you’re really dripping for me, aren’t you?” He asked, voice sinfully deep. Before she could give him any kind of coherent answer, he slammed into her.

 Keeping his grip on her locks, he pulled her head back so that she had to arch her spine. A gasp rattled her throat as she was forced to quickly acclimate to his large size, walls stretching painfully at first before relaxing once more. She was so small compared to him that he felt like he was being suctioned inward, the feeling so powerful and overwhelming that he couldn’t stop the moan that came out of him.

 He continued to thrust his hips at an intense speed, the sound of his scrotum hitting against her skin bounced off the walls it was so loud. The up and coming music star was nearly screaming for him, her moans so loud that he wondered if the whole building could hear her. He imagined someone who always looked so innocent on stage sounding so positively lewd. Shouto felt so incredibly powerful for reducing her to nothing but a fuck toy.

 Shouto tilted his head back, groaning at how amazing his dick felt wrapped inside of her pussy. It was like she was made for him, perfect in every conceivable way. After all, no one had the level of dirt on her that he now had. It was such an addictive feeling, knowing he could do anything with the video. He had the power to ruin her career if he wanted to, though of course he really had no reason to.

 He was pulled from his thoughts at the sensation of her walls fluttering around him as she came so hard that she was silent for a full thirty seconds. When she finally started to descend from her high, she gasped out for air as if trying to mentally grab any oxygen she could find. He pulled her back by her hair, making her stand up on her knees. A muscular arm wrapped around her body and a strong hand captured her throat.

 She was silent again as he deprived her brain of blood and oxygen. Shouto found himself toeing the line between orgasm and not, holding himself back as much as he could for the time being. His other hand also snaked around, releasing her hair finally so he could stimulate her clit. Another few seconds he released the hold on her neck and she came a second time with the rushing sensation of blood racing through her brain once more, drinking in air in loud gulps.

 Shouto quickly pulled out and released his seed across her lower back and ass, easing her down onto her stomach as he caught his breath. She lay in a puddle on the massive bed, unable to form any sort of coherent thought as her mind was a tornado of emotions.

 After catching his breath, the playboy retrieved a warm wet cloth and dry towel. He cleaned up the mess he had made gently, careful not to touch any place that may be overstimulated. There was a sincere smile on his lips and a warmth within him that he hadn’t recalled ever feeling before.

 Once he was done cleaning her up, he tossed the towels into a laundry chute and pulled the sheets back. He climbed in next to her after turning out the light and covered them with the silk threads. His hand lightly moved up and down her back until she was fast asleep. As he listened to the light sounds of her breathing, regret began to sweep over him.

 He stood, frowning at the small whine she gave when he left. When he was sure that she hadn’t actually awoken, he padded to his laptop and unlocked it. He cut the feed to the video and promptly deleted the file before crawling back into bed and holding her once more in his arms.

Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist || Bingo requests open!

Tag list: @gallickingun​, @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​, @sadistiks​

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK IV | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic. Cover by @timey-wimey-lovi​!

PART 4! Read Part 3 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Let Me Know - Clear Eyes.

Friends - Ed Sheeran.

Perfect Places - Lorde.

Word Count: 4,551.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Junior Year.

Tisch School of the Arts, 

New York University.

New York City. 

“We’re going out tonight,” Claire said, plopping down on your bed. 

“Oh? We are?” You replied, a notebook in your lap, and your back resting against the pillows.

“Yes. There is a welcome back party on campus tonight and we’re going.”

“I don’t feel like partying,” you sighed. “We just moved back in. There’s still so much left to do, to unpack.”

“Guess what? It’ll be here when we get back. And we’ll have all of tomorrow to decorate. But right now, we’re juniors, we’re thriving, and we’re gonna party!” She did a little dance, her red hair bouncing on her head. 

You giggled, “Fine. Only until midnight! Then, we’re coming right back.”

“Geez, grandma? Midnight? Make it one!”

“Fine, one-thirty.”

“I’ll take it,” she smiled. She hopped out of bed, and turned on her heels, finger guns pointing at you. “Wear that red tube top. Step all the way out, kid. I mean it!”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

You wore the top. It looked good. Abnormally good. Insanely good. It hugged your body, and accented your breasts, little ruffles handing on the hem. You paired it with a loose pair of jeans, leather boots, and sparkly jewelry. Your hair was pulled out of your face and you applied light makeup. 

“Yes, ma’am!” Claire cheered when she saw you. “For someone who didn’t wanna party, you sure snapped.” 

“Hush,” you blushed. “I just wanna be prepared, y’know, in case we take pictures or run into people.”

Person. Singular. 

You anticipated a high chance of seeing Matthew tonight, and if it was true, it would be your first time seeing each other in person in two months. After week upon week of late night phone calls — full of dirty words, quiet moans, and soft goodnight wishes. With his timezone being three hours behind yours, the two of you set alarms on your phone to talk in the early hours of the morning. Until you fell into this routine of talking every night. First, helping each other get off — sometimes more than once. And then having a sleepy, giggle-filled conversation about anything under the sun. It regularly lasted until one of you fell asleep.

So, yeah. You were eager to see him. Even more eager to get back to his place. Get back underneath him. It’d been a week since you last spoke, both of you being too busy moving back to New York. You ached for him dearly. And you wanted his first reaction to seeing you again to be lustful, intense. The outfit was perfect.

Claire and you walked across campus, arm in arm, skin glowing under the lights, hair blowing in the breeze. The music was palpable, and you could hear it from miles away. The two of you stepped into the dorming building, giggling at the sight of familiar faces, the smell of alcohol and weed, the sound of bass. 

For most of the night it was easy to mingle. You carried a solo cup of alcohol from each room — vodka. Everytime you drank rum, you got horny. It was weird. You couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into someone you knew, be it a dancer, an actor, film student. Being a double major, and active on campus, you knew way too many people. And everyone seemed to be there that night. It took you a good hour to rotate amongst groups. 

“[y/n]?”

You turned around, a smile instantly appearing on your face. “Alex! Oh, my goodness! How are you?”

The dashing boy smiled at you, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey! I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m currently trying to have a good time despite being tired as hell.”

He laughed, “Well, I see you’ve got some good time juice there, so you’re halfway to freedom. Hey, I forgot to tell you — your performance in the nutcracker last Christmas was incredible. I, uh, I actually went to the spring ballet after that because I was so impressed.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “I like to inspire people to experience ballet. It’s cool.”

“I was very inspired,” he nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have some more classes together this semester.” 

“Yeah! If not, you know how to reach me.” You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling too wide. He gave you a quick wink, and walked away. 

You instantly began looking for Claire, rushing around the dorm for anyone resembling your friend. You noticed her in the threshold of a room, shoulder leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. You walked up to her, “Claire! Claire, you’re not gonna believe who I just ran into. It was definitely not the reunion I was expecting tonight.” 

Claire was dazed, staring in front of her with a face solid as stone. You very rarely saw her like this, and it freaked you out right away. “Claire? Claire, dude, what’s wrong?” You turned your head to follow her gaze, and your eyes landed on the couch. 

People lined the cushions, and dead in the center was Matthew. His hair had grown out a lot, and he dressed differently. All button down shirts and khaki shorts. With that damn chain tucked in his collar. And beside him was a girl. Hair jet black, a matching black mini dress, paired with sandals. They were kissing. Hot. Heavy. His hand gripping her hair, the other on his thigh. When they seperated, she touched his lips and you felt yourself having a stroke. The giggled at each other and Matthew kissed her cheek. 

“It’s about one-thirty, right?” Claire asked you, her sight not moving. 

You gulped. There was an ache in your chest that made it hard to speak. But you took a deep breath, and release the words, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Claire walked around you, heading towards the exit, and you followed. The two of you walked home, silent, arms over each other’s shoulders. In the room, Claire dropped her stuff to the floor,  kicked her shoes off and sat on her bed. You rushed into the space, approached your nightstand and rummaged through it. 

“What are you doing, [y/n]?”

“I’m packing a bowl,” you replied, grabbing your herbs, a lighter and the bowl. 

“Right now? In here?” She gasped.

“Is that okay?”

She sighed, “Yeah. Come share.”

The two of you sat on her bed, thirty minutes later, laying against the wall with your heads staring at the ceiling. Your eyelids were lowered, red, and your breathing was slow. 

“I’m hungry,” Claire said, texting on her phone. “Do we have gummy bears? I want gummy bears. But haribo gummy bears. Not those knocks off we used to buy. And some soda. Soda would be so good right now. My mouth is so dry.”

You stayed quiet, eyes focused on the lights overhead. You couldn’t get the image out of your mind. Matthew. And that girl. Kissing. Touching. 

“Her name is Veronica,” Claire said. 

You turned your hear to her, “Huh?”

“Her name is Veronica,” she repeated. “Or Roni for short.” She rolled her eyes. “She, uh, she’s from Vegas. She went to school with...Gube, actually. They dated.”

“Oh...” you nodded. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I — I, yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged. “It’s just...really inconvenient of him to go back to her right now.”

“Back to her?”

“They’re together. They’re dating. Apparently they got back together this summer.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows together, a thousand thoughts running through your mind at once. “What do you think about that?” Claire asked. 

“Uh...” You shrugged. “I’m surprised anyone actually touches that boy,” you laughed, the sound coming out broken and sad. 

“Yeah...well...Misty says Roni is a big one for Gube. That, um, necklace he wears? She gave it to him years ago. He never took it off.” 

You nodded, “Yeah,” your voice cracked. “Well, that’s...that’s some heavy fixation there.” 

“[y/n]...”

“I should shower. I’m gonna shower.” You went to get off the bed, but Claire grabbed your wrist. You turned to her, and she pushed your hair out of your face. 

“I’m really upset about this, kid,” she said. “Can you...can you just lay with me for a bit?” 

You sighed, gave her a small smile and leaned in to hug her. She held you close, placing one hand on your head and the other on your rest. And she let you rest your head on her chest, as you let silent tears roll down your cheeks. 

Monday morning, you got up at 5 in the morning. You spent 2 hours in the ballet studio, twirling and dancing until your feet went numb. When you returned home, Claire was still asleep and you took a quick shower. You tried on ten different outfits, applied makeup, spent a long time on your hair. You made breakfast, checked for any assignments, surfed social media. And still had an hour before class. 

You chose to walk around campus, locate all your classes, grab some coffee, and then you headed to your first class. Walking through the building, you sipped on your drink, moving absentmindedly roaming the halls. Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled you into a storage closet. Your scream was cut short, and you jumped as the door closed behind you.

You looked up at see Matthew staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered, turning to exit the room. But Matthew put his hand on the door knob to stop you.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Um, do I see you at the party —“

“Yep,” you nodded, not making eye contact with him. 

“So...then, you saw me at the party with—“

“Yep.”

“Okay...[y/n]...”

“I really have to go to class, so, thanks for the detour, but I’m leaving now.” You removed his hand from the knob and left the closet, not looking back. 

You walked into your classroom, swallowing to get rid of the weird feeling in your throat. You set your bag down and took a seat. You attempted to shake Matthew out of your mind, the smell of him, the sight of him, the tension of being so close to him. But it was hard. It may have been the hardest thing ever. 

“Well, well, well,” a voice called to you. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

You looked up to see Alex, giving you a toothy grin and a look of pure joy. “Alex,” you breathed. “Hi. This is awesome, you’re in here?”

“Yeah,” he took a seat beside you. “Haven’t seen you much since freshman year. This is nice.”

“It sure is.”

So. 

Remember number eight on your list of atrocities against Matthew Gubler? 

Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project. 

Alex would be the friend. He was gorgeous and kind and so good in bed. You first met in a cinematography class freshman year, where he very boldly asked if you wanted to hang out some time. You smiled, said yes, and that led to the aforementioned sexual encounter. It only happened a handful of times, until the semester was over. Then you didn’t see each other as often.

But he was here now. He was here and he was flirting with you. You were flirting back. You were hurt and upset and confused and so fucking horny, you could burst. So, after classes, you reached out to him and asked if he could help you with a pre class assignment. He told you to come over. You did. 

You didn’t work on the assignment though. 

Starting off pretty hot and heavy, it was a few weeks of meaningless sex until he asked you out. Claire cheered when she heard the news, causing you to give her a confused look. “Why are you so happy that I have a date?” You giggled. 

“Oh...I just — Alex is cute! He’s great, I always wondered what happened to him. You said he was good in the sack and he was always sweet to you. I’m just, so glad you’re happy.”

You gave her a faux smile, “Yeah. I’m happy.” 

Alex’s friend was having a birthday party at his apartment, and Alex insisted you come. Said it was the only way he’d be able to have any fun when everyone got too drunk. You agreed, and when he picked you up that night, you were dressed in a purple romper and diamond earrings. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You look beautiful, too.” 

He held your hand as he drove to the apartment, as you got out the car, walked up the stairs, entered the living space. He introduced you to everyone you met, his arm around you proudly and your head nuzzled into his chest. 

Watching you across the room was a very irritated Matthew Gubler, who sat with Veronica on his lap and a beer in his hand. You didn’t notice Matthew’s presence for a long time, considering the fact that he was avoiding you, and you were more focused on Alex. 

While talking to Alex’s friends, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You strolled down the hallway, searching for the restroom. 

“[y/n]!”

You turned around, confused. Matthew marched up to you, his hands in his pocket, his face determined. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you told him, and continued to walk. 

He followed you. “So, you dating Alex now?”

“That’s not really your business, now is it?”

He grabbed onto your arm and pulled your body into his, hiding you two behind a corner. “No, but it bugs me.”

“It bugs you?”

“It bugs me. I don’t want you with Alex. Alex is a dick.” 

“Well, not to me—“

Matthew leaned down and kissed you, his hands tightened on your waist. He kissed you like he was starving, mouth open, breath heavy. 

You pushed him away, your eyes closed in shock and ecstasy. No, no, you thought. “Matthew—“

“Let’s leave,” he interjected.

“Huh?”

“Let’s leave. Me and you. Let’s go.”

“No,” you snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because, I’m here with Alex! And you’re here with...her, so, no. I’m staying here, with the guy I came with.”

“C’mon—“

“Matthew, no! No! Are you deaf? Are you dumb? Leave me alone, and go back to your girlfriend.” You suddenly didn’t have to pee anymore, so you returned to Alex and his group of friends. Matthew watched as you took a seat in Alex’s lap, and you pretended not to notice. 

There was radio silence for months. Matthew even removed you on snapchat, and for your sanity, you ignored it. You continued a casual relationship with Alex, and he continued to worship the ground you walked on. A vast change in pace from Matthew. Claire pushed for the Alex relationship hardcore, saying hi to him when came over, giving you guys time alone, tagging alone with you two to parties. 

But every once in a while, you thought about Matthew. When you saw a particular movie, or heard one of his favorite bands, right after you would have sex. And especially on Halloween. Over the summer, he told you all about his costume plans, party plans, and movie marathons he was going to have. And for some reason, like a clown, you just assumed you’d be with him when it happened.

By the time final exams were over, you and Alex considered yourselves exclusive. You strolled into the end of the year party, holding hands and laughing. You’d fallen into a good groove with his friends. They all liked you, you liked them, and you enjoyed their company. While sitting with them, one pulled out a joint, lit it and began to pass it around.

“Want a hit?” Alex asked.

“She’s pretty tiny. Can she handle it?” A friend said. 

You glared at her and took the paper between your lips, inhaling and holding a large amount of smoke. She watched in amazement as you exhaled through your nose, “Well...I stand corrected, princess.”

You took in a sharp breath of air.

And that was just the beginning of the spiral. 

You stayed in rotation of the weed for a long time, until your thoughts were nothing but a mess of words racing everywhere. Your eyes felt heavy, so did your body. And you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You were wondering was there ever really a connection or were you just highly sexually compatible? Did Matthew ever have feelings for you or did he just want one thing? Why does kissing him and fucking him and just talking to him feel so different? How come when everything falls apart, you want Matthew? How come when everything is going well, you want Matthew? Need to talk to Matthew. Where’s Matthew? Where’s Matthew? 

“[y/n]!” Alex called. “You’re high as fuck,” he laughed. “What are you thinking about?”

Matthew. 

“Come here,” and he pulled you into a kiss. And when you pulled away, feeling nothing, nothing at all, you realized you needed Matthew. You needed to feel something. But Matthew wasn’t here. And you wish he was here. Where’s Matthew? 

Tears were springing to your eyes, but you quickly began to cough, distracting yourself with a new sensation. You rose to your feet, and exited the room, much to Alex’s disapproval. He watched you rush past him, his face laced with confusion.

Everyone you passed by looked like Matthew. Why did everyone look like Matthew? You missed Matthew. And this was unfair. You wiped at the tears in your eyes, but they were already gliding down your cheeks. They burned your skin and it made you cry more. You were blinded. And way too high to notice Matthew - the real Matthew - entering the hallway. 

His eyes were redder than red, a lot like yours. His movements were slow. But something told him to reach out for you. Like a magnet. And you fell into his arms. It took him a whole second to realize it was you, but he did. 

“[y/n]?” he whispered. “Oh, my God, [y/n]. What’s wrong? What happened?” His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears on your cheek. 

“[y/n]!” Oh, no. Alex. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” 

At that point, you looked up at Matthew. Focused in on him. Said his name. But his attention had turned to Alex. And he was pissed. You could tell. 

“Wait, wait, Matthew, wait,” you pleaded. 

“What the hell did you do to her?” He shouted, holding you close. 

“Wait, Matthew, he didn’t—“

“Gube, let her go, dude!.” Alex snapped, reaching for your arm. 

And that sent Matthew through the roof. He released you from his arms and moved towards Alex, delivering a swift punch to his face. You’d never seen Matthew so much as cuss someone out, so this. This. This was hard to register. Nonetheless, you screamed his name, attempting to push both of them away from the brawl. But it was useless. 

Two guys had to step in and separate Alex and Matthew, pulling them to opposing sides of the hallway. And you had to decide who to follow. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

You kept a good 100 feet behind Matthew the whole time, watching him stomp his way to his residence hall. You knew exactly how to get into the building, but weren’t sure you should. You’d never seen him so angry. So red. So primal. 

But, Matthew. 

Oh, God, Matthew. What would you say? What would you do? Did he want to see you? Did he want to be alone? Was his roommate there? You paced for 20 minutes, freezing your ass off outside the dormitory. Your mind was made up when you found the side entrance and let yourself in, marching up the steps. Now or never. Now or never. And you needed to see Matthew now. 

You perched yourself in front of his door, paused, and proceeded to knock with full force. “Be home, be home, be home,” you whispered. 

He was home.

He came to the door, shirtless, his face bruised, his hair tasseled, and that stupid, ridiculous gold chain around his neck. And you’d never wanted to suck a dick so badly in your entire life. You instantly imagined grabbing him, kissing him, pulling him close. But you didn’t do that. You stood there, looking like an idiot, until he spoke. 

“What are you doing here, [y/n]?”

You hadn’t even thought about it. It just felt right to follow him. “I—I wanted...I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He shrugged, “I’m alright.” His face was stern. Stoic. No emotion showed on his features and it made you sick.

“Oh,” you said. “Okay.” 

You stared at each other for a long time. You just wanted him to say it. Ask you to stay. Ask you to come in. To admit it. But he wouldn’t. So you had to walk away. 

“Okay,” you nodded, sadly, and ducked your head as you headed towards the exit. “Okay.” You sniffled, patting at your eyes as they watered. 

Matthew watched you go. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. “[y/n],” he called. 

You’d stopped in your tracks.

“You...you were pretty stoned at the party,” he told you. “Are you sober?” 

You turned your body to face him. You thought about his eyes. How red they were. How slow he moved. How you had both been utterly and totally high as hell. “I’m sober,” you said. Honestly. After all of tonight’s events, and the sheer shock of seeing Matthew, being so close to him again, you had sobered up. “Believe me, I’m sober. Are you?”

Matthew licked him lips, nodding as he sighed. He stepped out into the hallway, and pushed the door to his dorm open. He signaled for you to enter. 

You gave him a quick and sad smile, and you avoided eye contact with him as you stepped into the empty room. He led the way to his private room, and let you in, closing the door behind you. You kept your back to him, arms crossed over your chest. 

He sighed, “I’m—Veronica and I broke up. Actually, she broke up with me...again. So, y’know, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but—“

“Matthew,” you cut him off, turning to him. “I need a favor.”

He hesitated, then his voice was strong, “Anything.”

“I leave for home next week for Christmas break. And since, I can’t seem to figure out what the hell about you is driving me insane, Matthew Gubler, I’m going to need time. Space. If you need time and space. So, you need to make that decision.”

“Okay.”

“But right now, take your clothes off,” you ordered. 

“Okay.”

He stared at you lustfully, just like you wanted, his body moving on autopilot to remove his shorts and boxers. You mirrored his movements, and took off your dress, subsequently tossing your bra and panties onto the floor. He grabbed onto your body and kissed you, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your waist. He pushed you back onto his bed, falling on top of you and kissing your neck. You held onto his torso as he made way to your collarbone, nibbling on it lightly. He pulled away and gropped your breasts, massaging them with his fingers. 

He was practically drooling over them, his eyes focused solely on your boobs. He leaned down and sucked on your nipple, while his hand slid down between your legs. He felt around your core, and slowly slid two fingers into you. You threw your head back, and moaned. 

Matthew kissed a trail from your breast to your hips. He began to kiss your inner thighs, kneeling down in front of you and pulling you up to his face. He pressed his tongue against  your clit, working his muscle in an up and down motion. You moved your hips against his face and his fingers, gasping weakly. You forgot how good his mouth felt, but this was huge, huge reminder. You gripped onto his hair and swore under your breath. 

He noticed your thighs tightening around his face, and increased his intensity and speed. Your back arched off of the mattress, you whimpered into your mouth, and your chest was heaving. You let out a long groan as you came on his face, your entire body tensing up. He withdrew his fingers from you, and licked up from your core to your navel to your breasts. He kissed your neck, then your lips. And he sucked his fingers clean, holding eye contact with you.

Overwhelmed, you pulled him in by his face and kissed him passionately. He grunted against your lips, rubbing his cock on your core. He pushed into you, his jaw dropping and his forehead against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and this encouraged him to thrust into you. Matthew held you in his arms, moaning into your ear as he moved his hips. 

You kissed his jaw, sucking on the skin until you felt it pulse between your lips. You could feel his muscles moving under your palms, and his cock striking a sensitive spot inside of you. It felt like you were crumbling, getting weaker by the second. But when you felt the chain hitting your chin, you wired back to life. You gripped onto the necklace and twisted it around your fingers, angrily biting your lip. 

As he slammed into you, you muttered a soft “fuck!” and yanked on the chain. It popped off of his neck, and it was cathartic. You moaned and threw it to a far corner of the room. You reached down and rubbed your clit quickly, panting as Matthew’s body began to tremble. He kept his gaze focused on you as you let him fuck you into another orgasm, and your hips rolled against his in an eager rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck!” Matthew exclaimed, pulling out of you just in time. He released himself onto your stomach, moaning and gasping for air. 

The mattress creaked as he laid down beside you, collapsing with a thud. The two of you stared at the ceiling, naked and breathy and covered in sweat. You rested your hand on Matthew’s chest, and he intertwined your fingers. 

The next week, you were headed to the train station to get home for Christmas. Not knowing what to say to each, Matthew and you hadn’t talked since last week. You sat in the back of an uber, your suitcase at your side, when your phone vibrated in your lap. You picked it up and recognized Matthew’s name flashing on your screen. 

You sighed, swiped to answer, and held the phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“I don’t want space.”

“I—“ You stuttered. 

“I want as little space as possible.”

You were stunned, quiet, “Okay.”

The line went dead, and you set your phone down. You bit down on your lip. But the smile was still clear.

[PART 5.]

[bubbletimestories]

could you do a sebastian fic where sebby is dating his s/o only to get information out of them but they know he's manipulating them ? and then at one point he starts developing feelings for them but they were planning on breaking up with him :(

So....do you know the story of the girl who wanted to answer a quick prompt but finished with 5 pages ? 😅

I hope you’ll like it (I tried to write as gender neutral as possible) and thank you for the request, it’s highly appreciated  💞 💞 

The lies on your lips 

The sun illuminates the white facades of the mansion and gives the flowers in the gardens hues almost too rich for a painter's brush. The end of summer is still mild and the atmosphere is charged with the sweet scents of cupcakes and lemonade that we love to enjoy in the shade. However, not everyone takes advantage of summer idleness to relax under a tree while reading a novel. Two figures move by whirling in the courtyard, raising with each step a small cloud of dust which whitens their legs. Of the two duettists, only one is out of breath and, as usual, it's you. Your legs are stiff with fatigue, your chest heaves far too quickly but your hand does not shake, you refuse to give up. A few steps away, your fencing master does not even seem to be sweating and is patiently waiting for you to catch your breath, as he always does. His amused gaze could be infuriating if you didn't also perceive a touch of lust in it, as if the shock of your blades were only a preliminary before a more intimate and sensual melee.

“Your movement is good, Milord/Milady, but you are still resting too much on your left side. A Lisbon boot would disarm you in no time."

 Comfortably installed in an armchair stretched with white and blue fabric, your mother observes you from a distance, waving her fan of feathers. She absolutely does not believe that her child, with such an unathletic physique, can do much with a foil, but she readily acknowledges your progress since the arrival of the new teacher. If your father weren't on a trip to the wilderness of Scotland (a grim business of murder, alas, mixed up with occult), he'd probably be very surprised to see you so quick and determined.

With a discreet movement of the wrist, your teacher invites you to take a break but you don't want to, you want to draw on your last strength to carry a few more assaults before your limbs become soft like those of a puppet. Without reaching, you put yourself back on guard and attack with even greater vigor and speed, hoping deep down that you could pull even a grimace from the man in black. Your blades clash with a loud bang, you continue to waltz, gauging each other like two predators until at last you see a rift in your opponent's guard. Exhausted and excited, you rush into it and realize too late that this is a trap. The next moment you are lying on the ground, your foil a few feet from your hand.

 "Looks like you've lost again but your last streak, albeit a bit rushed, almost cost me the win. Hope you didn't hurt yourself while falling. "

 Gloved hands glide over your limbs to make sure you've got nothing, and you suppress a delicious thrill as you cross the eyes of an exquisite red. As expected since he won, you will have to resist the urge to scream while he satisfies you tonight, while his hands will hold your delicate wrists, his mouth will give you a thousand tortures without you being able to let your passion escape. One day it’s him who will lose his head, his body sweaty and your name on his lips. The delicious flavor of the forbidden only makes this relationship all the more incredible, those moments stolen from the time when the owl howls, just a few steps from the mother's bedroom. You get up with his help, dusting your dust-covered outfit while your mother congratulates the fencing master.

 - Well done, Mr Michaelis, you really are an outstanding fencer.

- It’s too much honor, Milady, I’m just one hell of a teacher.

Sebastian bowed respectfully, always so modest under all circumstances, so detached. His calm sometimes makes you think of a snake, a magnificent black viper that ripples in the grass, but that would be forgetting the burning heat of his body against yours, his kisses sometimes tender sometimes disarming at the most incongruous moments. Breathing still choppy, you take time off to go to your room and clean yourself up properly, removing the thick gray layer that covers your limbs, stuck with sweat. The bath prepared by the maid does you a lot of good and you let her clean your hair and nails, anxious to appear to your advantage. Then you ask to be left alone to get dressed, pacing the room, naked. Every corner of the room seems to you to be inhabited by the presence of the fencing master, in one place he devoured your lips, in another he healed your swollen ankle although it was not his role. You who had always refused the suitors around you, it didn't take long for you to succumb to the charm of the man in black, his soft voice, his elegance. Your affair has lasted for several weeks and no one suspects anything thanks to the young man's discretion. Your fingers stroke the glove you managed to steal from him after a night of love, you bring it to your lips, feel the grain of the fabric against your mouth. Then your smile subsides.

 Liar

 Such a perfect being, so mysterious, could not but arouse your curiosity but also your suspicions. When you have a father who investigates the cults of Britain, you learn to beware of what sounds too good to be true. And then there's this young boy you sometimes see, puny, a long lock in front of his eye. His almost ghostly allure has stuck on your retina and if you don't know exactly what to think, one thing is certain in your mind: Sebastian is lying to you, he is manipulating you like a vulgar doll. Deep down, it doesn't shock you, he wouldn't be the first to want to make an obedient toy out of you, but it's the first time you've let someone pull your strings. In the mirror, you meet a frozen gaze, filled with anger even if you don't really know which of him or of you deserves your hatred the most. Your hands angrily take the clothes on the bed, the satin slides over your flesh like an icy wave, so different from the softness of gloved hands. No need to lie to yourself, you realized a long time ago that Mr. Michaelis had wrapped his chains all around you, not just around your body but also around your heart. You want him, you love him and you hate him. However, you are aware that crying scandal would be pointless. The beautiful man is too meticulous, too well-liked to arouse any suspicion. And then, in this affair, who has the most to lose? That’s why you keep quiet, you don’t intend to chase him away or prevent him from carrying out his plans. No doubt he will achieve his ends and disappear without leaving a trace. But that doesn't mean you have to remain his puppet. Tonight you will end your relationship.

 ***

The moon is high in the sky as you leave the mansion to enter the gardens under the pretext of wanting to enjoy the starry night. The knots of your outfit flutter gently in the light breeze and you walk between the thickets to get away from the lights, the music, the rest of the world. No need to watch for a rustle, crackle or noise, you know Sebastian will arrive as quietly as a feather in the wind, as if he were emerging from the darkness. With a few glances, a purely aristocratic authoritarian chin movement which he adores, you have made a date with your lover in the secret gardens. Strangely, you don't feel any pain at the thought of breaking your bond, only a great void and a certain weariness. He gave you what you didn't think you wanted: the feeling of being desirable and lovable, and for that you are grateful to him. But it has to stop and quickly, before it gets too hard.

 "Did I tell you how much that color highlights your mouth, Y/N? Tonight you looked like you could devour the world with just one bite, with the movement of your lips."

 In the half-light, his pupils shine with a glow more reminiscent of amethyst than ruby, you have learned to recognize this change as a sign of interest, when his excitement is strong. Unless it's just a comedy, a subtle acting game. This is not the first time he compliments your mouth rather than your eyes like everyone else does, he says he loves the way you talk, curl your lips, consume like a voracious and greedy animal. Behind the delicate and elegant facade, he alone knows your insatiable appetites, the violence of your desires. You smile before picking up one of the swords you took care to take tonight. The bare blade captures the moon's rays and makes it shine with a silvery sheen.

 “We're going to play a game, Mr. Michaelis. We will face each other now, in the stillness of the night, until one of us bleeds. During this time, you will have to answer my questions honestly, without lying."

 Your vibrant voice informs the young man about your intentions, it is not a parade of seduction but a declaration of war. Regardless, both situations will bring him equal pleasure and he stares at you with a smirk, picking up the other sword without taking his eyes off you.

- This is a dangerous game, my love, what will I gain from it?

- You never refused a good fight seems to me.

 To support your point, you raise your sword with an innocent smile, knowing in advance that the pleasure of the game will outweigh anything else in the fencing master. You see it in the crease of his mouth, in the movement of his eyebrow, you've caught his attention. With feline grace, Sebastian begins to circle around the yard as before, shedding his jacket and exposing his thin muscles under the snowy fabric of his shirt. He can feel all the anger pulsing through your veins, you must have discovered something incriminating him, but that's okay. His mission is coming to an end and he will soon have to return to his little master, even if the prospect does not enchant him too much. He loves your company, your light shoulder movement when you concentrate, the tension in your muscles when you hold back from sighing, the twinkle of your eyes revealing the fire that burns under the fine varnish of appearances.

 - Let's start with something easy: is Sebastian Michaelis your real name?

- That’s the name I have agreed to bear on this earth.

 Your blades cross, you study each other with your eyes as you vainly search his face for signs of deception. You have never detected one before, you will not pierce his mask tonight. Fighting in your evening clothes is much more complex than in your fencing ones, the fabric stretches and hinders you in your movements but it only reinforces your rage. And then you have this strange thought that wounds will look better on pretty fabric than on dull cotton. As for Sebastian, he ditched the black of his suit tonight to let blood show with every scratch.

 - Did you come here to spy or to gather information ?

- Yes.

 His answer is simple, spoken in a clear voice without any emotion, shame, regret or even mockery. Would you have liked him to be more cruel? At least that confirms your suspicions even though you now feel a thousand questions on your tongue ready to pop out. You have to stay focused, parrying an attack to respond better. You feel stronger, faster than ever before, it's an exhilarating feeling but one that you can't appreciate because what's at stake in this fight is your heart.

 - Did you seduce me on purpose?

- Yes.

 Once again, he responds calmly as if you asked him if the weather would be nice tomorrow. The detachment with which he says "yes", while continuing to parry your attacks effortlessly ... it's almost painful. Sebastian executes a movement as fast as an arrow, his sword biting the fabric of your sleeve but not cutting into your skin. You're sure he did it on purpose, he doesn't want the game to end and you know full well he's too good to be hurt. His speed and agility are almost… inhuman. In a flash, you think back to the ghost you saw, to certain stories circulating about the queen's hound ...

 - Would you have kill me on the orders of your master?

- Yes.

 The attacks are faster, you waltz at a frantic pace, moving forward, backward, constantly avoiding to better face each other again and you feel the anger rising more and more at the risk of blind you and getting lost your concentration. Still, the young man does not seem to be trying to take advantage of it, just pushing your boots aside without trying anything further. On the contrary, he slows down the movement gradually, detailing your rapid breathing, the sweat that pearls on your forehead, the red of your cheeks. You are exhausted and even if you are enduring, you maintain an aristocratic health, you have to be careful. That's why he lets himself be disarmed, your sword under his chin while looking at you intently without even trying to wipe the thin scarlet line that crosses his cheekbone, signaling the end of the fight.

 "Do I have the right to add one last truth before we go our separate ways? "

 You should say no, you would like to refuse, tell him to disappear from your sight, that you never want to hear his voice again, his sweet but empty words, his exquisite and bewitching lies. But you nod your head without lowering your blade, in anticipation. Perhaps he will explain more precisely why he used you. After all, he's only telling the truth tonight, cruel as it is. Sebastian plunges his shifting eyes deep inside yours, running his tongue over his lips before speaking the most shocking, infamous truth a demon can ever articulate.

 " I love you."

[lyssawritesfanfic]

Where I Belong

fandom: ikemen sengoku

hideyoshi x reader

cw: smut, jealousy

“Ah, lass, that new outfit looks absolutely ravishing on you,” purred Masamune as you stepped through the door. It was a new design, a cross between a modern day cocktail dress and a traditional kimono. You were really quite proud of how adorable it was, how you were able to combine the sexiness of the 21st Century with the traditional beauty of the 15th. The back of the gown trailed along behind you, the front transforming into a pleated miniskirt, leaving your long, slim legs on display. If only you could make shoes too! Stilettos would have been killer with this!

“Thank you, Masamune,” you responded, sure to keep your reply short and sweet, lest he take it as an invitation.

“You know where it would--”

“Yeah, yeah, it would look much better on your floor, come up with a new one and maybe I’ll laugh.”

“Oh, you wound me!” Masamune laughed heartily, clutching his chest in mock anguish as you walked past him. As much as you enjoyed being eye candy, there was only one man’s reaction you were interested in. And across the room, the minute you caught his eye, his cup went tumbling from his hand.

“You okay there, Hideyoshi?” you asked slyly, fully aware that having your legs out there for all to see and the sweetheart cut-out you cleverly tailored in so the crisp air could slide across the tops of your breasts had him in complete shambles, but for now, you would relish in the teasing. His cheeks were tinged with red as you bent down to retrieve his dropped glass, looking up at him as he stammered and tried to find words.

“What, do you not like it?” you handed him back his cup, growing slightly concerned at his inability to speak.

“You... you look amazing, but... are you sure you’re comfortable being in public like this?” His eyes trailed down your body, his hand holding onto yours when he took back his drink, almost as if holding onto your hand was the only thing preventing him from stroking your exposed skin.

“Where I’m from this is actually pretty normal to wear, so I feel really great wearing something like this again.”

“O-oh, really?”

“Yep! Why, do you... not like it?”

“No, it looks great on you! I’m just worried about...” His eyes darted about at the rest of the warlords present, notably Masamune and Nobunaga. It was no secret that Hideyoshi was protective of you, but especially in the presence of those three. They had come to terms with the fact that you had fallen for Hideyoshi and Hideyoshi alone, but that didn’t stop them from flirting or teasing. And that would forever unsettle your strong, stalwart lover. But, who knows? Maybe you wanted to see him a little bit jealous. Just a little bit, of course, you didn’t want him to go all yandere on you, as Sasuke would say, but it’s always nice to feel wanted.

“Bold of you, flaunting all that in front of Hideyoshi’s rivals,” Nobunaga chuckled, refilling Hideyoshi’s cup.

“I didn’t think you thought of him as a rival, Lord Nobunaga?”

“Oh, I don’t. I’m just biding my time until my lucky charm realizes where it is she belongs.” He let out a hearty laugh and you started to question whether or not you should have worn modern wear in front of these 15th Century warlords. That all had weird crushes on you. Though, god, you wouldn’t give this up for the world, but sometimes missed your time. You missed the clothes, the freedom to show a little skin, hell, you missed air conditioning. But one look at Hideyoshi and--

“Why don’t we get out of here,” he whispered. He was always protective and perceptive, especially when it came to you. You let him lead you out of the party as Nobunaga and Masamune snickered, Mitsuhide eyeing the whole scene, sure to make a snide comment the next day.

Once the door slide closed to your room, you found yourself pinned to the wall, one of his arms closing you in at your side, the other above your head.

“I don’t ever want to tell you what to do... one of the things I love so much about you is your free spirit,” Hideyoshi whispered in your ear, his hot breath on your cold skin giving you shivers.

“But... if I could make a request...”

He moved down your neck, nipping and kissing until he reached your collarbone, his teeth suddenly latching on tight as he gnashed them about, taking great care to leave a large red mark as you gasped.

“Could you please only wear that around me? I don’t think... anyone else is ready for your time’s fashion...”

His hands skillfully untied your obi, your dress pooling on the floor at your feet as Hideyoshi moved to mark the base of your throat.

“Wh-when you ask me so nicely...” it’s all you could manage to get out before wanton moans escaped your lips. He was probably right. As strong and independent and modern as you were, it may not have been the wisest idea to start with modern fashions that showed so much skin. Perhaps over time, you could slowly get them used to it. You were determined to be your truest self, but there were other things to consider in this time. Not everyone was as understanding as Hideyoshi.

“Well... I do have one more request,” Hideyoshi confessed. Your eyes were misted over with lust as you looked at him, biting your lip.

“Y-yes?”

One of his hands moved between your legs, cupping your sweet spot with a teasingly gentle touch, his fingers barely brushing your opening.

“May I claim you tonight?”

He bit down on your neck right below your ear, sucking again with the intention of leaving another mark.

“Hideyoshi... I’m all yours to claim...”

That’s all you needed to say for his lips to come crashing onto yours and his tongue to plunge into your mouth. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back fiercely. He made you so impossibly hungry for him so fast every time you found pleasure in each other you were starting to think he had superpowers.

Two of his fingers deftly parted your opening, slowly stroking. You let your hands travel down his chest and push his clothes off, one hand holding the back of his neck, the other reaching down to tease his base. He lurched forward at your touch, his free hand wrapping around your waist and holding your bare bodies tight together.

“Haa...! Hi-hideyoshi...!”

Low growls escaped his mouth as he lifted you up effortlessly, his fingernails digging into your hips as he laid you down onto the bedding, hovering above you. Despite his throbbing need and your aching want, he brought his head to your stomach, kissing, nipping, biting, marking... when he asked to claim you that night, he truly meant it. You could feel his strength trying to overcome his lord’s words... I’m just biding my time until my lucky charm realizes where she belongs... you buried your hands in his hair.

“Hideyoshi... about what Nobunaga said...”

His head jerked up at you, a hint of panic in his glorious eyes.

“I have realized where I belong. And it’s with you. Forever.”

A blush crept to Hideyoshi’s cheeks, then he burst into a warm smile.

“Damn... every time I think I couldn’t fall in love with you more, you somehow pull me in deeper.”

You started to giggle, but it quickly turned into a cry of pleasure, his heat sinking deep into you suddenly. His hips rolled deep, being sure to hit every. single. spot. inside you. You bit your hand to keep back your screams, but Hideyoshi had other plans.

“N-no...” his breath was raw and ragged. He grabbed your hands, tangling your fingers together and pinning your arms above your head. “Who did you say you belonged with...?”

“Hi-hideyoshi!” You did your best to moan softly, but the last syllable came out extra loud as he gave you an exceptionally hard thrust.

“Who?” His voice was again a low, possessive growl, one that you were not at all used to but not at all complaining about.

“Hideyoshi!” you let your voice free this time, echoing through the room and undoubtedly the halls of Azuchi. His grip around your hands tightened, pulsing and pounding into you deliberately and rough, each time his hips met yours a loud cry fleeing from your lips.

“And do you ever want anyone else?” Hideyoshi leaned down and suckled on your nipple, nipping and teasing, causing your body to spasm beneath him as you began to near your peak.

“N-no one else! Ever! Ahh, damn, Hideyoshi...! Y-you feel so fucking good!”

“Yeah?” A naughty smirk reached his lips, his pace quickening.

“Yes! Oh god, Hideyoshi! Don’t stop! Please!”

You felt yourself tense and shake as you both reached your climax, you letting out a loud, throaty scream once you arrived there, writhing in ecstasy as you felt your beloved’s seed flood inside of you. Though both of you were gasping for breath, neither of you were ready for your pleasure to end. And so you continued throughout the night, finding release in each other again and again until the sun began to creep over the horizon.

The next day, life still had to continue, as it always does, despite the sleepless night you and Hideyoshi spent. He indulged you in an extra few minutes of morning cuddles before it was time to get to the day’s work, promising to, at the very least, let you have a full night’s sleep later tonight... and that perhaps he’d be able to assist in knocking you out. You went about your duties, smiling to yourself, until you bumped into Nobunaga.

“I see you’ve returned to your regular attire,” he said.

“Well, to be honest, what I wore last night was more of my regular attire, but I guess this is more what you’re used to, isn’t it.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Your time. When you could wear that.”

You paused before answering. To immediately say “no” would be a lie; you missed the versatility of polyester, the convenience of a train, the peace you took for granted. But--

“If I was given the same choice across ten thousand lifetimes, Lord Nobunaga, I would always decide to remain here, with the one I love.”

“Hm. Interesting.” He began to walk away, but he turned back to look at you. “Perhaps you could begin something new type of clothing: ‘bedroom’ clothing. I hear in the west they call it lingerie. You could bring some of your home here.”

You smiled back at him warmly. “We have that where I’m from. I think... I think that’s a great idea. Thank you so much.”

“It’d probably be best to keep it to bedroom clothing only, if just for your own self-preservation.” Nobunaga poked at one of the many marks Hideyoshi left the previous night, a sly grin on his lips.

“Ah! Hey! Rude!”

Nobunaga let out a hearty laugh. “I’ve relinquished my lucky charm to my right hand man. The least you could allow me is the occasional joke.”

“I’ll submit it to the board for review, I’ll get back to you on that.” Your sarcasm belied the happiness in your heart, the fact that Nobunaga, the devil king and one of your dearest friends, had finally accepted the love between you and Hideyoshi.

Nobunaga waved his hand dismissively as he walked away. “Let the ‘board’ know that I only said what I did on a bet.”

You were on your way out until you heard that last bit.

“A bet? Care to elaborate?”

Nobunaga didn’t stop walking away, but honored you with an answer.

“Mitsuhide, Masamune, and I had bets placed on how many of those you’d have in the morning. I had bet highest, so I did my best to be sure I won.”

[justkending]

Knock, Knock. Epilogue.

Series Summary: You are a really good friend of the Padalecki family. Your apartment gets infested with all kinds of problems, so you have to move in with your friends for a couples of days. Little did you know who you would run into while staying there.

Pairing: (single) Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3600+

A/N: And just like that, the series is over. Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. It was one of my most liked ones, and I feel the same towards it. I hope I did the end justice, and I hope you all enjoy. Much love to you all:)

Series Masterlist

Epilogue

A little over 8 months had passed. Which means that is was Jensen’s and yours 1 year anniversary. And oh what the year had been filled with. 

For one, Jared and Gen ended up having their little bundle of joy just about 2 weeks ago. When she had told you she was pregnant she was already pushing past 1 month. And just like Gen hoped, it was a baby girl. They named her Odette, and she had all the fire and spark as Gen did even at a young age. Tom, Shep, and Jared were and are all wrapped around her finger, and give her the world. 

Jensen was now back for a month or so while they take a hiatus for the mid series in Supernatural. You’re relationship has bloomed even more bringing you closer to each other, and it was as if you two were still in the honeymoon stage of it still. 

You had been to a few conventions now with him, and WOWZA was that an experience you wouldn’t mind having just as much as him. 

The fans seem to really like you, and a lot were asking for pictures with you as well as Jensen. Much to your surprise, they liked you so much that they even made you fan art and wrote letters to you. They were apart of the sweetest fandom that you had ever met. 

Today was the last day of the Dallas Comic Con, and since it was summer break, you were able to join Jensen for all of it this time. And thanks to his help, you surprised your sister and dad to come to the convention with all kinds of VIP tickets so they could meet whoever they wanted. Every once in awhile, they would hang out with you and some of the cast of Supernatural, but they also branched out and went on their own tours. Jensen was kind enough to get your mom, Charlie, and Sadie plane tickets to come as well, but they were sightseeing Dallas instead of staying at the convention. You were just glad that they were all having fun, and experiencing a little of what you get to.

“Hey sweetheart?” Jensen asked from the bathroom of your shared hotel suite. “Have you seen my hat?”

“Which one?” you asked putting on the last bit of your mascara.

“The ball cap I got from Aspen Hatter’s?” he shouted. 

“Is that the all black one?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s was on the chair in here last I saw. I may be under some of your clothes.” you said pulling back and giving yourself a once over. 

You were wearing high waisted jeans with a simple off the shoulder black long sleeve shirt tucked in. Your now much longer hair, was straight and parted down the middle.

“Where-?” Jensen said coming out of the bathroom and stopping just as he saw you. He let out a low whistle, and you turned seeing him eye you up and down. 

“Oh stop.” you laughed waving him off. 

“How can I? I’m dating that.” he pointed at you before coming up and giving you a quick kiss and going to the chair. “You know, you’re going to steal all the attention from my fans if you keep looking like that.” he joked as he moved clothes off the chair to find his hat. “Got it!”

“I doubt they’re looking at me when-” you moved over grabbing the cap he put on and twisting it to where it was backwards. “You look like this. Very Dean Winchester today with the flannel, hmm?” you hummed.

“Yeah, cause I know you like it.” he said in a more sultry voice. 

“You’re not wrong.” you said leaning up to give him a kiss, but just before you you made contact you pulled a way and gave him a teasing look. “And I know how much you love me teasing you.”

“Not true.” he growled his eye blowing up in lust. 

“Well, sad day for you cause we are late, and don’t have time to mess around.” you said pulling back while his hold your waist lingered as you got closer to the door. 

Just as you were about to open it, his hand grabbed your wrist, and spun you around.

“That was mean.” he whispered inches from your face. 

“What are you going to do about it?” you whispered back with a smirk written across your face showing mischief.

“Well…” he started leaning in, and grabbed your waist pulling your flush to his. His hand snaked behind your neck pulling your face closer to his, and a certain heat grew in you. Just mere centimeters from your lips he stopped, and looked back up in your eyes. “You’ll have to see later. I’m late.” he winked before letting go and opening the door behind you and walking out. 

“You little!” you shouted towards him in the hall, and he turned shooting you finger guns, and another wink as he walked proudly to the elevator. “I’m so gonna-” you took a deep breath laughing at him, and ran back to grab your purse before running to catch up with him. 

“It’s not fun being teased is it?” he said in a sing song voice once it was just you two in the elevator. 

“I’d watch yourself Ackles. You may have just declared war.” you said slyly crossing your arms, and leaning in the opposite corner of the small room. 

“Well I think I have a fighting chance. You can’t hold yourself back for too long.” he said watching the numbers get smaller, and with a wide smile on his face.

“We’ll see about that.” you said turning and sending him your best game face.

Something about it made him shiver a little. You looked determined, and now he was kinda scared that you were really going to give him hell. His smile fell, and he was about to ask if you were serious when the doors opened showing Jared and Clint on the other side.

“Y/N, you don’t mean-” he started.

“Clint, Jared!” you said shifting to a whole other personality. “You guys ready?”

“Yes ma’am!” Clint smiled motioning for you to take the lead.

“Thank you sir.” you smiled placing a soft touch on his shoulder and marching ahead of them knowing exactly where to go by now. There was a sway in your hip and you knew Jensen was watching every swift motion you gave them. 

“Something seems off.” Jared said as they both started following after you.

“She teased me so I teased her back.” he let out a long sigh as he ran a hand down his face. “I think I started a war.”

“Ooo man. Bad move. The women always win that one.” Jared chuckled slapping his friends back. 

“Yeah I know. I haven’t won this game ever.”

___

“My question is for Jensen!” a young girl in the crowd asked.

You were off to the side of the stage watching the panel with Gen who had baby Odette cradled in a carrier on her chest. She had decided to come to this one since it was semi-close to home. The boys were at their grandma’s house, and just baby O was there since she was so young. 

You were watching Jared and Jensen being the dorks they were. They were about 10 questions in so far. A lot of them about the show, and certain episodes, and a couple of Jared and the new baby.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Lay it on me.” Jensen smiled, turning to the teenager asking the question.

“We heard Y/N is here, in your hometown, and that you guys are celebrating your 1 year anniversary. Do you guys have anything special planned?” she smiled brightly.

You both knew it was your anniversary, but you planned on celebrating it tomorrow since you were headed home then. With the convention, it was too much of a hassle to plan around it.

“Uh, actually, I have something planned, but she doesn’t know that I do.” he answered.

You turned your head at that, and looked over at Gen who was bouncing up and down with O, and she just sent you a shrug.

“Well, now she does cause she’s right over there and just heard me say it.” he laughed pointing over to you.

Instantly, everyone who hadn’t seen you before, which was a good chunk of the room, started going ballistic. You waved at them and smiled.

“There she is folks by my lovely wife!” Jared shouted, and Gen waved beside you. 

“They hate when we do that don’t they?” Jensen asked turning to Jared. 

“Eh, I think Gen likes the spotlight.” Jared joked getting a glare from Gen. “See? Look at that beautiful scowl. Aweeeee.” he said getting the crowd to join in with him. “Ok, ok. Jensen I interrupted your question.” he said patting his back.

“Yeah dude. Come on!” Jay exaggerated. “Was that all you got for me sweetheart?” 

“Well, is there any hints you can give us or her about what you plan on doing?” she continued to ask.

You were curious yourself so when you made eye contact with him you quirked a brow and tilted your head as you crossed your arms. 

“Oh no. Look what you did. I’m getting a scowl as well.” he said shaking his head. “I hope that’s a loving scowl Y/N/N.” you didn’t move. “I honestly have no idea if I’m safe after this panel.” he said getting a laugh from the crowd. “No, but uh-” he went back to the question. “I can give you the hint that it’s romantic, but I can’t say much more. The crowded let out a said awe, and Jensen laughed. “Sorry folks, but it’s a surprise.”

A surprise indeed. Later that night, he had Gen come and help you pick out an outfit for the night out on the town before you left tomorrow. You weren’t sure exactly what his plan was, but Gen told you a simple dress would do the trick. 

You picked a simple black dress with gold stars all over it. You grabbed some hoop earrings, and a pair of comfortable heels, and swung your purse over your shoulder.

“And you’re sure this isn’t too much for tonight?” you asked smoothing out the dress.

“Promise. You look great.” she said swaying Odette in her arms. “I wish I could have a night out soon, but we may be waiting a few weeks before that happens.” she laughed looking down at her daughter.

“Oh let me see her.” you gushed moving toward her. 

“She just ate. I don’t want her to spit up on you.” Gen said easing her into your arms as you started swaying her in your spot.

“Nonsense. Give me the burp rag, and I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, whatever you say.”

You looked down at the little girl in your arms, and couldn’t believe how much like her mom and brothers she was starting looking like. You were lost in the baby thoughts until your friend snapped you out of it. 

“Can you see yourself here in a couple of years?” she said grinning at you.

“I’m not sure when, but I for sure want it.” you said never breaking your stare from Odette. 

“Awe, you and Jensen making little Ackles. How sweet!” She jumped in her seat. “I’m waiting for it.”

“Calm your tits. We need to get married first.” you laughed making Odette giggle. “Wait a minute. Did she just-”

“Laugh?” Gen said jumping up and running to look down at her. “She did! That was her first laugh!”

“Is me getting married funny to you?” you said peppering kissing on Odette's face only making her laugh more. “You little turd!”

“And what’s going on in here?” you heard Jensen coming in with Jared close behind.

“Jar! Y/N just made Odette laugh for the first time!” Gen shouted pointing down at the baby in your arms. 

“What? Do it again!” he shouted coming to your other side as you all looked down at her. 

“I don’t know how. I was just talking.” you laughed. 

“Well talk!” Jared smiled.

“Hey O, what did you think was so funny?” you smiled at her. Only getting a grin. “I think I know what got her.” you said leaning down and kissing her all over again. Sure enough the giggling started and she made a loud laugh.

“Awe, O! Look at you go!” Jared said taking her and swaying with her himself. 

“You’re something else with kids aren’t you?” Jensen said behind you making you turn to see him in a nice button up, and a pair of his nicer jeans.

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” you shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, but uh do you want to bring the throw up rag with you?” he said pointing to your shoulder.

“Right. Probably not the most romantic accessory.” you winked taking it off and putting it by Gen who was gushing over her kid with her husband. “Hey, we’ll see you guys later ok?”

“Hmm mmm. See you in a bit.” they said never looking up at you.

“They really are in trouble, aren't they?” Jensen said wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“That’s putting it lightly.” you laughed. “Ok,-” you turned to him. “Show the way Ackles.”

“After you Y/L/N.” he motioned for the door.

You went to the lobby and into the car that Clint let you and Jensen drive for the evening. 

“So where are we going?” you asked propping your arm on the console, and resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him. 

“Can’t tell you. That’s the point of a surprise.” he said side eyeing you and laughing.

“Not even a hint?”

“I gave you a hint. Romantic remember?”

“You’re awful.” you huffed upset you couldn’t get him to spill. 

“You love it.”

“Not right now.” you said sagging in your seat.

“Hey,-” he said grabbing your hand. “You look really beautiful tonight.” he said turning for a second to give you sweet eyes before turning back to the road. 

“Nice save.” you said squeezing his hand. 

He ended up taking you to an old restaurant that he claimed he went to all the time as a teenager, and then ice cream after. The last stop was the stop that mattered the most. He said this was where he went when he came home from work, or LA and would stay to clear his head. Not many people knew about it other than his parents and siblings. 

About a 10 minutes drive later, you showed up to a nice little park. It was vacant for the most part, and looked over a pond with ducks and geese.

Jensen came around to your side of the car, and opened the door ever the gentleman.

“Thank you kind sir.” you said playfully taking his hand he extended to you.

“Anything for a princess.” he winked interlacing your hands and shutting the door behind you. 

You turned to the view and saw that the sun was setting just behind the pond. It was stunning, and the perfect time to be there.

“Wow. Look at that view.” you let out in a breath captivated by the beauty.

“I know. It’s something isn’t it?” he said softly.

You turned seeing that he wasn’t watching the sun, but was studying you instead.

“I was talking about the sunset.” you giggled with a laugh.

“And I was talking about you.” he winked pulling you closer as he started walking along the hike path. “Sunset’s not bad either.” he shrugged.

“You’re a dork.” you laughed on his shoulder. 

“And I take pride in it.” he nodded. 

You both walked for about a block in comfortable silence taking in your surroundings. There were beautiful trees, and flowers sprouted along the path, and you weren’t surprised that this is where he would come to clear his mind. It was calming, stunning, and very humbling.

“So in about 25 yards is where I would come to sit and think. It’s kinda hidden, and you really have to be looking for it to find it.” Jensen said pointing to a little opening in the woods.

“Should I be worried that you brought me out here to kill me?”

“No!” he laughed making his body vibrate.

“I don’t know…” you dragged out. “You could have just fed me my last meal, and now you’re dragging me out into the woods. Sounds sketchy to me.” you said nudging his hip.

“Ok, no more horror movies for you… or supernatural.” he said nudging you back and going to grab your hand again. “Come on it’s right here.”

He moved a few branches, and dangling vines out of the way, and you started to see a subtle warm light from behind them.

“Jay what’s-” you stopped mid sentence seeing a swarm of Edison light bulbs strung all around you in this little meadow nook. It was as if the trees had created a dome, and the only light besides the Edison bulbs was the last bits of the pink and red colors of the sunset leaking through. “Oh my…” you said taking it in and walking in further as Jensen stayed behind watching you look at his hiding spot. “Jensen this is stunning.” you breathed out slowly turning in your spot. 

Just as you came back to face Jensen, you saw he was no longer standing, but was instead on one knee only a few feet away from you.

Your hands came up involuntarily, and covered your mouth. This wasn’t happening was it? You wanted to say something, but nothing came out. You were in shock.

Jensen was grinning up at you, and that’s when you saw the little velvet box in his hand. A single tear escaped your eye, and you let out a nervous chuckle.

“Jay-”

“Y/N. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were something else.” he said cutting you off. You sniffled and let out a laugh as you let him continue. “Even hungover, in clothes two times your size, you caught my eye in an instant.”

“I was a mess.” you laughed. 

“A mess that was still as gorgeous as a goddess.” he said smiling at you still. “Then when you said you needed a home, I didn’t think twice about bringing you into my life that way. It was rash and not thought through, but it was the best risk I ever took. Because of that one little risk… It led to so many others. Rooming with someone I knew I had feelings for, going to your family’s for Christmas, confessing those feelings in hope you reciprocated them, and tons more.”

You sniffled at his confessions, and wiped away your tears with one hand as he grabbed the other in his.

“And with each risk, I learned that I love taking them with you because you always go with them and don’t second guess them. Because of that.” he opened the box, and grabbed your hand again. “I want to take another. Will you marry me?”

You let out a laugh at how shocked you were. You definitely didn’t see your evening turning out like this. 

“YES! Absolutely YES!” you jumped as he stood up and placed the ring on your finger.

He laughed as you both went to kiss each other passionately. So much love was put behind the gesture. You would have had a full on make out session, but the cheer of other people pulled you away from each other. Still wrapped around his neck you turned your head to see Jensen’s family, Gen and Jared, your family, and most of the cast from supernatural coming out of the trees they were hiding in.

“Oh my God! What in the world?” you shouted, turning to them with Jensen still holding onto you.

“Congrats!” they all shouted. Gen and Sadie being the first to run to you and give you a giant hug. 

“How did you-”

“Jensen’s had this mapped out for months.” Gen explained. “We helped him set up while you guys were eating, and stayed in the background to watch it happen!” 

“You guys!” you smiled holding back more tears, and giving them more hugs. 

After about 15 minutes of thanking everyone for helping and coming, you came back to Jensen who was glowing just as much as you. 

“You did all this?”

“I’ve been kinda mapping it out since we started dating.” he shrugged, pulling your waist to his. 

“Seriously?”

“I knew you were the one pretty fast. Thought I might as well get a head start on it.” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Well, you did amazing.” you turned motioning to your mingling friends and family and your surroundings. “I couldn’t have asked for a better way for this to happen.”

“I’m glad. Now all that’s left is to plan the wedding.” he said kissing you.

“Yeah, but that’s just a small detail.” you joked kissing him back. 

You pulled back and rested your foreheads on each others. 

“I love you a lot.” you whispered. 

“I love you so much more.” he said. 

And like that… You were on your way to being Mrs. Ackles.

Masterlist for Series

My lovelies:

@shamelesslydean @sleepless-sin  @sandlee44 @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @supersleepygoat @justanotherwaywardsister @spnwoman @ravengirl94 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ezilyamuzed @thosekidswhohuntmonsters @anise-d-castle6 @tailsoflightning @spookycowz @eve05glee @snffbeebee @angelessquirrel @deans-baby-momma @natura1phenomenon @tftumblin @gh0stgurl @screechingartisancashbailiff @herscrunchiehairtie @dreaminemz @staradorned @monkeymcpoopoo@a-girl-who-loves-disney @andthatsmyworld @greenarrowhead @savio-the-depressed-moose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @greyeyedsmile14 @adoptdontshop-blog @casper57 @traceyaudette @rainflowermoonlibrary @luciathewinchestergirl @almostelegantfire @thefaithfulwriter @the-is13 @kaz11283 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @squirrelgirl67 @jackles-15 @lauravic   @deansgirls-1968  @a–1–1–3

[smokeysister]

The Stepford Game (Part 2)

(This story features elements of brainwashing, mind control, physical transformation, stepfordization, and reality warping)

Carrie still couldn’t believe what was happening. It all felt like her wildest dream had been brought to life. She had bought some old board game, one about 50s housewives trying to make their way to a barbecue, but once she and her friends started playing it.... Well, it seemed as though the game was magic. Or cursed, as her best friend Vivian called it. Whenever a card in the board game was drawn and read out loud, it affected reality. First, Carrie’s short, unpainted nails were made cherry red and given a perfect manicure. Then Vivian’s jet black hair was swept up into a beautiful red ponytail, tied up with a cute little bow. The last change so far, as far as anyone was aware, was Mariah’s basketball jersey and shorts being stripped off and replaced by a gorgeous satin green evening dress, along with an elegant shawl. Mariah wasn’t too happy about it, but Carrie found herself staring at the ensemble with a mixture of jealousy and, well… A fair bit of lust!

She had always sort of enjoyed the 1950s housewife aesthetic, deep down. She didn’t much talk about it, since it was odd to most folks, but Carrie often had dreams of being a doting housewife, living in a suburban paradise and caring for her dream husband. And seeing her friend lose her sporty clothing and be forced to wear such a pretty vintage outfit… Well, that stirred something in Carrie’s loins. Meanwhile, Linh, the fourth girl in the group, was still looking exactly the same as she did that morning. But as the only girl who landed on one of the Stepford Game’s “reality spaces”, her own history, the very fabric of reality, had been altered, and nobody could remember the way things used to be. As soon as she read the card out loud, Linh’s workaholic, cold hearted mother was transformed into the perfect sitcom housewife, straight from the 1950s. Linh, who originally longed for her mother’s affection, had now grown up being doted on by a regular June Cleaver! And she wanted to be a housewife now, just like her mother. But now it was time for Carrie’s second turn, and she held the dice with bated breath. What kind of space would she land on? Would she get a pretty 1950s style dress, like the one that Mariah was huffing about in? Or would her drab blonde pixie cut be transformed, like Vivian’s hair had been? Would she get a reality card, like Linh? Or would she land on the third type of space, the mysterious “chore space”? She took a deep breath, rolled the dice, and moved her game piece along the board as everyone watched in anticipation. “Chore space,” Carrie said slowly. She glanced around the circle, and met the eyes of each of her friends. Mariah looked worried, Vivian looked curious, and Linh, well… Linh looked like she was having the time of her life. Linh hummed happily as she handed the top card from the chore pile to Carrie, who then read it out loud for all to hear. “Scrub-A-Dub-Dub. Your husband is on his way home, and you forgot to wash the dishes! No time now to run the dishwasher, you’ll have to scrub them all by hand! Better hurry!” When Carrie looked up, she blanched. Just a second ago, she had been sitting on the floor of Linh’s bedroom. But after reading the card, she was standing in what seemed to be a classic 1950s style kitchen, but one of the walls was missing. Where the wall should be, there was instead a wall-to-wall window. On the other side was Linh, Vivian, and Mariah, still in the bedroom, and watching her with wide eyes. Before anyone could say something, there was a loud buzzing noise, and the clock on the wall started ticking down. Below the clock was a sink filled with dirty dishes. They must have been stacked up three feet! And on Carrie’s hands were a pair of thick, pink rubber gloves. Without thinking, Carrie dashed over to the sink and turned the hot water on. She began scrubbing dish after dish with soapy water, silently praying that she would finish them before her time ran out. She hadn’t checked the rules to see how the chore challenges worked, but she remembered seeing something about a “punishment” if someone failed. Dish after dish, Carrie scrubbed off all the dirt and grime, then set them on the other side of the counter to dry. She could feel herself start to sweat, and her forehead went clammy. She didn’t even have time to check the clock, but she could hear the girls on the other side of the window cheering her on. Or, rather, she could hear Linh cheer her on while Mariah and Vivian watched in fearful silence. Eventually, Carrie heard Vivian whisper “come on, hurry up!”, and her nerves started to fray even more. And that’s when Carrie slipped up. She grabbed another plate, the very last one in fact, and started to scrub it, but once it was clean, it slipped right out of Carrie’s hands and fell onto the floor, where it shattered into a million pieces. Carrie stared in horror at the shards that littered the floor, and then the buzzer went off, and the door to the kitchen opened. “Honey, I’m home!” It was Kent! Her boyfriend? But what was he doing here? How was he a part of the game? Magic. Of course. It was a magic game, and she was in a fake little kitchen set, so naturally there would be a fake husband too. And he just so happened to look and sound like her boyfriend who she was on the rocks with, albeit wearing a suit and tie, with a briefcase in hand. “What’s this, then?” Kent asked, looking at the broken dish, and then giving Carrie a stern look. “Carol, what did you do?” “I-I’m sorry?” She stammered. Carrie glanced at the window, where all three of her friends, even Linh, were looking worried. “I lost, didn’t I?” “You made a mess!” Kent exclaimed, exasperated. He stuck his hands on his hips for a moment as he thought about what to do, and then he grabbed Carrie by the wrist. He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and bent Carrie over his lap. No matter how much she struggled, his grip was just too tight, but not painfully so. But then he brought his open hand down on her bottom, and Carrie gasped as a loud “smack” rang out. “Oh, hell no,” Mariah said. “Carrie? Carrie are you okay?” Vivian asked. “Oh, he’s spanking her! That’s what daddy does whenever mom breaks a dish!” Linh said with a giggle. Carrie, however, stayed perfectly silent as Kent’s double spanked her again. And again. And again. It went on for what felt like an eternity, but Carrie didn’t resist after that first whack on the ass. Each slap that he brought down on her bottom made Carrie heat up just a touch more than the last, and she was already blushing as red as a beet. She had never fantasized about being spanked before, but right then and there, Carrie realized just how wonderful each additional stroke felt. Down in her pants, she felt herself growing slick, and it took all of her willpower not to moan with pleasure. But eventually her punishment came to an end, and when Carrie opened her eyes, she found herself sitting on a sore bottom, back in Linh’s bedroom, with all eyes on her. If it was possible to blush any brighter, she would. Meanwhile, Carrie’s red game piece moved back two spaces, without being touched by anyone, just the game’s magic. “Carrie… Are you alright?” Vivian asked, grabbing Carrie’s hand to show her concern for her best friend. “Y-yeah, I-I’m fine,” Carrie said, still coming down from the high of being brought so close to, well… To reaching the top of that hill. “Let’s just keep going, okay? Linh?” “Oh right, it’s my turn now!” Linh said. She rolled the dice, and moved her tiny purple housewife forward another three spaces, landing on the same wardrobe piece that Vivian’s black piece was resting on. A wardrobe space, which led her to draw a wardrobe card. “Sunday Best. It’s a Sunday, and you know what that means! Time to head on over to morning mass, and be sure to dress nicely when you go.” Just like every other time someone drew a wardrobe card, the tiny speaker in the center of the game board played a happy little jingle. And this time, just like when Mariah’s clothing was altered, Linh’s outfit vanished before their very eyes. For a brief moment, the 19 year old Asian girl was left nude, totally exposed for all her friends to see, before a new outfit began to appear on her body. First, a set of vintage undergarments appeared to cover her shame. A bullet bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. Then, a white blouse with a peter pan collar covered her upper half, while a deep purple skirt wrapped around her bottom, with its hemline reaching her calves. Finally, a matching purple sweater went on over the blouse, and a cross necklace formed around Linh’s neck. “Ahh, this is just the sort of thing that I’d love to wear to mass!” Linh squealed happily, marveling at her new outfit. “I didn’t know you were religious,” Vivian noted. “Well, I’m not, really,” Linh admitted sheepishly, tugging at her skirt. “But it’s still a really nice outfit! It’s sort of like what my mother wears when she goes to church. I wouldn’t mind going more, honestly.” “It really suits you, Linh,” Carrie gushed. Like with Mariah, Carrie felt a rush of both jealousy and lust at the sight of Linh wearing the sort of outfit you’d see a 50s housewife wearing. She looked so demure, so pure, so innocent… And the arousal from her earlier punishment certainly wasn’t going away now! “Thanks, Carrie!” Linh said, giving her friend a quick hug. “So I ended up in some frou frou ball gown and she’s looking like a church girl. Great. Really fun game, Carrie,” Mariah huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. Unfortunately, her outfit negated any impact her grumpiness may have had, and Mariah ended up just looking a little silly and adorable. “Hey, she didn’t know any of this would happen!” Vivian spoke up, rather angrily, in Carrie’s defense. “And need I remind you that she was just spanked in front of all of us! If anyone has a right to be embarrassed right now, it’s Carrie. It’s an old dress, you can deal.” Mariah fell silent and looked down at her lap, sufficiently shamed. Vivian grabbed the dice from Linh and rolled for her turn, pushing through the awkwardness and keeping the game going. She just wanted to get it over with, and hopefully avoid any more unfortunate scenes that night. She moved her piece along the board, and wound up on another chore space. Everyone but Linh exchanged awkward, worried glances, as Vivian accepted the chore card from Linh. “Laundry Day. Your spouse needs a clean set of clothes, so don’t delay! Take good care of the laundry, and try not to end up with pink socks!” When Vivian looked up from the card, she found herself in a similar predicament as the one that faced Carrie earlier. The three walled, almost 1950s sitcom looking house set was the same, as was the giant window for her friends to watch her through. But rather than being in a kitchen, Vivian was trapped in a small laundry room. There was no ticking clock, but she was faced with a mountain’s worth of dirty laundry. Vintage frocks, stockings and undergarments, blouses… All things that one would expect a 50s housewife to wear. But mixed in among them, Vivian discovered as she sorted out the whites, were articles that likely belonged to other members of the supposed “family” she was doing this laundry for. Fitted suits, pencil skirts, ties of varying colors and styles, things that most likely belonged to her own false spouse, like how Carrie had a false version of Kent. The fact that she was currently single didn’t seem to matter to the game. And on top of that, there was also an assortment of small dresses, bobby socks, and cloth diapers. So she was doing laundry for a baby, too. Luckily, Vivian didn’t have to work with a time limit, and she had more than enough experience in washing her own clothes. She figured that the game cared more about her skill and knowledge in how to properly sort and wash the clothes than her speed at a simpler task, like Carrie got. In fact, time didn’t seem to make much sense at all during her little challenge. The instant that she put a load in the wash, it was all ready to move over to the dryer, without even a minute’s wait. She was grateful for that, at least. Otherwise, with the amount of laundry she was tasked with handling, it would take half a day to do it all, if not longer. But once she finished with the last of the drying, Vivian found that she wasn’t back in Linh’s bedroom, not yet. She looked at the window, to the others watching her, and hoped that they might have an answer. “You’ve got to fold them, silly!” Linh explained, rolling her eyes. “Right. Makes sense,” Vivian muttered to herself as she turned back around and started work on getting everything folded and divided up by who the clothes belonged to. As the time went on, she began to realize that the monotony of the chore wasn’t boring her. If anything, it was actually rather relaxing, just devoting herself to one simple task. And the smell of the clean clothes was rather enjoyable. She had never really noticed that before, but it was. There wasn’t anything about the task for her to complain about, and Vivian smiled to herself as she got into the rhythm of folding the various dresses and skirts and diapers, and setting them off to the side so that she could start on the next article. She had gotten off easy on the chores, she figured, but that wasn’t a bad thing at all. Once she set the last toddler’s dress aside, as neatly folded as everything else, Vivian heard a little ding, like the sound of a tiny bell being rung. When she looked around, she found herself, finally, back in Linh’s bedroom, with the other girls watching her. Carrie seemed relieved that Vivian had avoided being punished like she was, while Mariah breathed a sigh of relief and started looking for the dice. Linh, however, was busy fawning over Vivian’s appearance. “Gosh, those earrings are so cute, Viv!” Linh gushed, touching Vivian’s ear delicately. Vivian reached up and felt her earlobe, and understood what her reward for winning the challenge had been. Her gauges were gone, and the large hole they created was fully healed up. In their places were a pair of large pearl earrings, as smooth and cool as she always imagined pearls must feel. “Oh,” Vivian said, not sure what else to even say about the change. She should have been mad, just as upset as Mariah was about the changes, if not more. She had paid a lot of money for her various piercings, and to have two of them replaced ought to feel like a violation. But instead, she didn’t mind it at all. In fact, she felt almost happy about it. Thinking on it, the gauges were something she’d probably grow to regret someday, while a nice, classy pair of pearl earrings was something she couldn’t go wrong with. Even if they did clash with the rest of her appearance. But there wasn’t any time to think about that, since Mariah was already taking her turn. “Two spaces,” Mariah noted. She moved her game piece along the board, and breathed a sigh of relief when she landed on a reality space. “Reality space! Okay, you demon game, what fact about my life are you going to predict?” “Biblical Name. Your name is Mary. It’s the only name you’ve got, so don’t wear it out!” Mary stared at the card after reading it, confused. The other three looked at her as she slowly set the card down. “But my name isn’t Mary,” she claimed, getting defensive. “My name is Mary! Er, wait, what? My name is Mary. Mary. My name is Mary!” “Yeah, we know what your name is, Mary,” Linh said. “No! This isn’t right. I know that my name was something else, but whenever I try to think of it, my brain just says… Mary.” Mary started to get even more worried. The harder she thought about it, the more her original name seemed to elude her. She tried to spell it out inside of her head. It started with an M, and then an A, followed by an R… And then a Y. M-A-R-Y. “I-I think that these cards don’t tell us facts about reality,” Mary realized, finally. “I think that they change reality, just like those other cards change our appearance!” “But my card didn’t change reality,” Linh told her, growing somewhat annoyed by her friend’s little scene. “My mom is a housewife and I want to be one too. That’s how it’s always been, Mary. And I don’t remember you ever having another name!” “Neither do I,” Carrie agreed, and Vivian nodded her head. “You’re Mary. What other name would you have?” “I think you both might be right,” Vivian said. “I think that Mary knows she had a different name once, but we can only think of her as Mary. So whatever her name used to be doesn’t really matter, since it’s gone entirely now.” “But… But that’s my name!” Mary exclaimed. Even so, her outrage was subsiding. She just didn’t have it in her to keep arguing when even she couldn’t recall what her old name was anymore. The only name she could think of as her’s was Mary, and there was nothing she could do about it, and so she sank to her knees and folded her hands in her lap as she sniffled her tears away. Linh patted her on the shoulder sympathetically, but even Mary knew that she must have sounded ridiculous. The game was really starting to get to her. “Just take your turn, Carrie,” Mary told her, pushing the dice in the blonde’s direction. Carrie nodded and shook the dice in her hands, filled with a mixture of excitement and fear as she rolled them. She couldn’t wait to see what came next, even if it was a bit intimidating. “Wow, Carrie! Two chore spaces in a row!” Linh noted once she saw where Carrie’s game piece landed. Carrie drew the chore card and read it with bated breath. Would she fail this challenge, like she did the last one? Would she… Would she be spanked again? In front of her friends, as they watched a man bend her over his knee and treat her like a misbehaving child? What was this game doing to her, making her all hot and bothered at the thought of something so shameful? Or had she always wanted that sort of thing, but just hadn’t realized it? “Changing Time. Your baby needs a changing, and any mother worth her salt knows how to change a diaper! Can you do it in time?” Carrie shut her eyes as the world around her shifted. She could feel the air change, and her nose picked up the scent of... baby powder? When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a nursery, standing by a crib. Another smell cut through the first one, this one much more foul. Carrie wrinkled her nose in disgust, and then she heard a loud, piercing cry coming from the crib. She didn’t even waste time looking at her friends through the window in the wall. She had a challenge to win! Thankfully, Carrie had experience with babysitting from back in high school. Changing a diaper and calming an infant down was no issue at all for her, and she didn’t even need to pay attention to the clock on the wall as it ticked downwards. Her time wasn’t even halfway up when she finished, and a happy little chime played. And just like that, Carrie was already back in Linh’s room. But to her brief confusion, everyone was staring at her, just like when she had been spanked. Mary was, as usual, somewhat horrified and disgusted. Vivian was shocked. Linh, of course, was excited as she could possibly be. Then, Carrie realized that there was a weight in her arms. Something heavy, warm, soft, and… squirming? She looked down at what she was holding, and her own eyes went wide with shock.

“Oh my gosh, Carrie! Did the game give you a baby?” Linh asked. She practically flew over to Carrie and started fawning over the infant that Carrie had been saddled with. Carrie’s initial surprise faded fast. The more attention that she paid the baby, the more she seemed to know about it. She was a girl, eight months old, her name was Alice, and her father was Carrie’s boyfriend, Kent. She knew that just a second ago, she was a childless young woman. She had always practiced safe sex! But she also knew, without a doubt in her mind, that this precious little girl was her’s. This must be what Mary felt like, with the game changing her name. She knew, logically, that the game had changed a facet of her life, but that didn’t change that this was her life now. And so she hugged Alice close to her chest and sighed happily as the baby cooed at her “aunty Linh”. “This is the game, isn’t it?” Mary asked, her worries bubbling up again. “This game keeps screwing with our fucking lives, and we can’t do anything to stop it while we keep fucking playing it!” “Mary, stop that!” Carrie hushed her. “No cursing around the baby. Linh, why don’t you take your turn, okay?” “Look, I’m sorry, okay? But we can’t just keep ignoring this,” Mary insisted. “This game is messing with our heads, with our bodies, and now with our lives too! We need to quit while we’re ahead, before it, I dunno, makes Linh pregnant!” “Oh, Mary! That would be so amazing!” Linh gushed, her head filling up with thoughts about the prospect. “Okay, bad example, but still!” Mary moaned. She pointed a finger at Vivian as she continued. “What if the game removed Vivian’s intelligence or something? O-Or made me LIKE this?!” “Do you really think the game could completely change someone like that, Mary?” Linh asked, incredulous. The idea that someone could have their own thoughts and desires warped by the game was ludicrous to her. “Anyways, you can quit if you want, but I’m having a lot of fun!” “So am I, actually,” Carrie agreed as she stuck a pacifier into her new baby’s mouth. “I haven’t had this much fun in years.” “I’m staying in if Carrie is,” Vivian said. She didn’t admit that a part of her wanted to see just how deep all of this could go, and what else could change. Would she be the next one to end up in vintage clothing? Or would it be Carrie? Could someone else end up becoming a mother, seemingly out of nowhere? A small, determined part of Vivian desperately wanted to experience whatever the game had to offer. “...Fine,” Mary said, after a lengthy pause. “But if anything happens to me, it’s on you guys. Take your turn, Linh.” “Okie dokie!” Linh said with a giggle as she rolled the dice, eager to see what would happen to her next. “Two, three, four… Oh, yay! Reality space!” The young asian woman excitedly reached for an appropriate card and cleared her throat before reading it aloud to the group. She couldn’t wait to see what would happen, or rather, to find out if the game could really change something about her life like it did to Mary and Carrie. “Getting Your MRS Degree. You tried to give it the old college try, but college was just too smart for you! It’s okay, though. An aspiring housewife doesn’t need a degree to clog up her brain.” Linh nodded her head. That made sense to her. After all, she had dropped out of college after just one semester, once it became apparent that she was far too dumb to make it in academia. “Wait, but… But aren’t we all on break from school?” Mary asked, looking around the circle for confirmation. Carrie and Vivian nodded their heads. That was true, obviously. “Well yeah, you guys are,” Linh said. “But I dropped out during our first year, remember? I’ve been helping my mother around the house ever since, at least until a boy sweeps me off my feet and makes me his housewife!” “But Linh, what if that’s just the game messing with your life? Like how it changed my name, or made Carrie a mom!” Linh shrugged her shoulders. “Does it matter? I don’t really care about school anyways. I just want to be a housewife!” “I guess…” Mary said, admitting defeat. Did it really matter if it matched Linh’s own desires? Odds are she’d drop out eventually anyways, regardless of if the game had made it happen early or not. “See, Mary? This game isn’t making any of us grumpy except for you,” Linh told her, gently touching Mary’s shoulder. “If you try to enjoy it, like we are, you might have some fun!” Mary didn’t say anything in response. She just kept on sulking, trying to convince herself that Linh was wrong. It was a hard argument to win, though, so she kept quiet and waited for Vivian to roll the dice and let whatever change that’d come happen. Wasn’t like she could stop it, even if she tried. Could she? “I got a five,” Vivian mumbled, before picking up her little black housewife shaped game piece. She dragged it along the board over five spaces, moving right on past Linh’s piece, and ending up on the next reality space. Her heart rate picked up as she realized what that meant for her. Up till now, she had gotten by with minimal changes from the game. Just her hair and earrings had been changed, while Mary, Carrie, and Linh had all experienced massive shifts in either their wardrobe, their life, or both. But now her life was going to change, possibly forever, all due to the whim of a card in some old, possibly cursed, board game. It was terrifying, but also exciting. Why was she excited by the prospect of the game radically altering her very life? All she could do was draw the reality card and see what awaited her. “Clean As A Whistle. You’re not sure what these “body mod” things are, but you’ve certainly never had one! No siree, your body is a temple, and no tattoo needle or piercing gun has marred your beautiful skin.” Vivian looked down at her arm as the lights dimmed, and while her stomach turned, she could see the tattoos fade away, until there was just unblemished, ivory skin. She raised a hand to her face and felt around as her piercings seemed to sink into her skin, and then vanish entirely. Even her new pearl earrings vanished by the time that the lights came back on! And when the room went back to normal, Vivian found that she couldn’t remember ever sitting down to get a tattoo or piercing. She didn’t have the faintest clue as to what that experience felt like. She shuddered at the thought. It must be so painful, all just to have some ugly image ruin her skin! Thank goodness she had never gotten any kind of body modification before. “So… Let me guess. Vivian used to be covered in tattoos or something?” Mary said, looking Vivian up and down. Vivian nearly gagged at the very idea! “Vivian with tattoos? I can’t even picture what that’d look like,” Carrie admitted. The thought of her friend getting a tattoo was frankly absurd. Vivian always hated tattoos! She wouldn’t even sit down to get her ears pierced, no matter how much you paid her. “Viv with tattoos? Oh wow, that’d be a sight!” Linh laughed. “Can we just move on, please?” Vivian asked. “I don’t really like all this theorizing. We all know how I feel about the subject.” Still, Vivian felt that Mary must have had a point. Considering how the cards worked, she must have had some sort of body modification done to herself in the past, even if the idea disgusted her now. Did the game really change something so drastic about her, even down to her feelings on something like that? She couldn’t stop wondering...

[gukptune]

Eccentric [m]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: cyberpunk!au, cyborg!jungkook, eyepatch!jungkook, courtesan!reader, smut, dom!jk, switch!reader

Warnings: a lot of smut, explicit language, explicit acts, oral, foreplay, slight daddy kink, slight bionic finger stuff, cumplay, creampie, edging, big dick jk

Words: 5.4k

Plot Summary: A certain red haired client buys you for the entire night.

a/n: I was inspired by the new cyberpunk 2077 gameplay reveal, cuz im hyped i wrote this - the whole rebellion thing is a meh, a filler, cuz idk how the night city in the game actually works hahah.

Endeavouring into the cleaning of your room for tonight, you could only put away the decorations and pamper up the sheets. In the house everyone had a room for their routine work, all sound proof and completely bare. They kept it that way so that each person had their own individual style, it was nice, nice enough.

Yours was truly nothing special, kept more simple and graced with large windows. You had landed yourself one of the corner rooms which was completely open, the windows reflecting the night city well. Decorated with darker comforters, pillows and blankets. A lot for just the aesthetic but mostly for comfort, something for you to hold onto when you wanted.

You worked at Black Rain Bath House, merely a cover for the sex work that happened every single day. The people who work here are called, Courtesans, mainly because everyone here costs a whole lot. Apart from the sex dolls, bots, of course. Though in this world it was hard for anyone to really stay fully natural, most get modifications― for appearance sake or the perks of having tech in them, like heightened agility, eyesight or just wanting metal parts.

You were one of the rare ones here, nothing done, mainly because they seemed pointless to you.

As you had arranged your room well enough for your liking you hear someone step into your room, “You’ve got one tonight, 10 pm.”

The head mistress came into your room with a device, she handed it to you as you stared at her with confusion.

“Only one?” Usually you started work around 8 pm and kept going all night, the least was at least 3 and the most, well, you weren’t even going to mention it.

She chuckles as she nods, “Hmm, he seems diligent on being your only for the night. Words gone around that a fully fleshed girl knows how to treat any man.”

She smirked watching as you sighed, “Wow, I guess I’m pretty popular.”

“Natural girls are hard to find even here, we’ve got a mere handful and you’re the best of them,” She explained, leaning on the side of your door, “Even I dare say, my pussy is definitely not natural― years of this kind of job, it’s synthetic.”

Not that it was bad to enhance yourself with modern technology, it was just that it was extremely popular. A few years back, courtesans with synthetic bodies or even androids were extremely popular but now that it was so popular and mainstream, everyone seemed to go backwards and want the original just plain ole human again.

“Funny how the world changes,” You said, spinning the spherical device around in your hand.

“Well, let’s just say, human men still like the fake shit but those androids or cyborgs love humans,” She shrugged, “At least we both get some.”

She then pushes herself off and begins to leave, turning around to take a look at you. You watched as she pointed to the device, “Read up on this one, he’s a real big one and not just in that way.”

“Have fun,” She struts away before you could respond, her high heels and formal attire leaving your sight. Even though, this was technically a brothel you dressed extremely formal just like bath house employees would, merely ripping all the formality off as soon as you step into the room.

Humming as you motioned for the door to shut. Walking back to sit on your bed, pondering in your thoughts. Rubbing your thumb against the plate on the sphere, watching as information about your client beamed up.

Jeon Jungkook

Age: 21

Race: Human (Previously), Cyborg (Currently)

Enhancements: Right arm (Metal), left eye (Computerised), knee and joint replacements (Metal), Organ replacements (Synthetic)―

Gosh, you can’t even comprehend, most of these are quite serious and seemed as if they were for medical reasons and that wasn’t even all of it. This made you think of what this boy had gone through to have to had so much done, remembering what Mistress said you blinked, Big...

What could she mean by that in a non-sexual way. As you scrolled through his information about birthplace, education and what not you looked at his affiliations.

It was as if your heart stopped beating at the text you read. He was not just anyone big, he was one of the most influential. He lead an Anti-Governmental gang that fought against the laws against weapons and technology. Things like the ban on manufacturing their own without government supervision, it needed to be owned by someone on the board. Laws against testing and creating new technology that would pose to be a threat against government issued technology. Of course it was stupid, mostly the laws were governed in the upper ring, but not here. The night city still infested with crime and illegal activity, the free city.

It was to say the least that you had known him, you’ve seen him before, he was powerful― it was strange to think that he had specifically requested you. Making you feel like you needed to really prove that you were what they say you were.

Feeling strange about your bedding arrangement now, you shivered nervously with the thought of him being in near in a few hours. Maybe you should consider decorating better now.

9:52 pm

The red digital number blinked angrily at you. Dressed in a new outfit you had just bought you sat on one of the loveseat awaiting the arrival of a certain client. Nervously, biting on your lip as you fumbled with the clip on your thigh high socks. Your toes wiggling, barefoot, as there was no need to really wear shoes in your own room.

The client comes to your room in your establishment, he had a number and himself. He’d knock and you’d answer. At this point, you truly didn’t know why you were so nervous, how were you suppose to open the door now.

9:56 pm

Your eyes never leaving the numbers as it slowly got closer to ten. Groaning as you leaned against the cushion on your seat, pulling it out from behind you wrapping it in your arms as your chin rested against it.

9:58 pm

Fuck. You felt like you needed to pee, was it real or just your head. Keeping your head faced towards the clock you kept peering by the side of your eye at the door, awaiting the heavy knock.

9:59 pm

One minute, a chill shot down your legs. Pursing your lips as you tried to look in the mirror at yourself. Wondering if you looked good enough, jeez, you sure did but the nerves was not something you could push away. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach wasn’t the good kind but the gross anxious one.

10:00 pm

It as time, turning towards the door. You watched. But nothing happened, breathing a sigh of relief.

10:03 pm

He must’ve been late. If it was any other client, you’d cancel and find another one. He was paying a high price for you and you weren’t going to be able to just cancel on him for being a few minutes late, you wondered if he even cared about being on time.

Petting the soft cushion on your lap, your legs crossed you nearly forgot about what you were suppose to do, until a heavy knock echoed in your room. As normal, whenever a client knocked the lights would dim, you watched as the door opened and there stood the man.

You could smell him from where you were, your breath hitched at the sight of his glorious self. He wore a suit, without the blazer, it was folded on his arm― a dark red dress shirt clings to his muscular body, the silk shirt left nearly nothing hidden. His hair seemed wet, brushed up, his forehead exposed― even wet you could see the tint of colour in his hair that the blue light in your room shadows.

His eyes were centred on you, eyebrows raised at you, you noticed the eyepatch he wore― he must’ve not finished his eye replacement, though that made him look even more dangerous, in a good way. At first you were confused, then realising that the cushion you had was covering you entirely, pushing it aside quickly as you stood and walked towards him.

“Sorry, I was just waiting on you,” You said, smiling at him. He breathed, taking you in. You looked up at him through your lashes, reaching out asking for his blazer.

He lets out a chuckle before letting you take it, “Sorry about that. I had a long meeting and the world decides to curse me and rain.”

That explained his wet hair and clingy shirt. You took the blazer gently as you motioned for him to come in. The door closing at that. You hurried to put his blazer on the dresser, hopefully it would dry.

You watched as he strode towards the bed. The bed was facing the door entirely, the headboard non-existant as it was a mere bed with a view of the city as the head board, on it’s left was also a floor to ceiling window.

“Nice room,” He said.

“Thanks, most of them look like this― you know without the windows,” You replied, watching his back flex as he turns.

“I wouldn’t know,” He said, eyes trailing down your body, “Never been here before,” oh, well that’s just great, his first experience with the House was going to be you, that’s just fantastic.

“Glad to be your first,” You trailed, getting up close to him. As you stepped closer to him, he stood proud and big watching your every step with lustful eyes, “Hmm, you sure? You seem tense.”

He teased you, of course he did. Not paying mind to it, you ignore it. Reaching his large body, getting a smell of his aroma. Hands placed on his plump chest, you pushed him down on the bed. He smirked, watching as you straddled his sitting frame.

Arms lacing themselves behind him, your lower body grinding against his― feeling the budge of his cock brush against the thin red lace that barely covered you. His large hands grasping the back of your thigh as his fingers ran over the clips of the thigh highs, both of his hands felt the same―must’ve been some expensive prosthetics, “These are pretty hot, though they’d be better off.”

Feeling a pinch and the snap as it fell off, you peered down at him as his attention was fully at your thighs that were spilling out of your socks.

“Hmm, wouldn’t it all be better off?” You asked, pouting your lips. Feeling his hands stop at the other thigh.

“You’re naughty, is this what you humans are like?” He asked, with amusement. Not hiding the fact that his boner was dying to push out of his pants as it rubbed against your clit. He was huge to say the least and that was one of the only real parts of him. The heat radiating him practically making you melt under his touch.

You shrugged, “Aren’t you human?”

“Sort of,” He shrugs before tugging on your socks to get them off. Rare, usually the clients enjoyed keeping them on. You stepped back onto the ground, on your tip toes as his thick hot hands grasped the bands and pulled them both down in one pull, stepping out of them before giving him a light twirl.

Seeing his smile enlarge satisfied you, his hands immediately went to brush against the bare skin of your thighs. You stood in front of him as he pulled you against him. Spreading your thighs so you’d straddle him as you were standing, feeling his hands molded the skin as you felt heat twitching at your centre.

Letting out a gasp at his hand that slipped between your thighs, zoning into your centre, swallowing as you placed your hand on his thick shoulders―holding on to keep yourself upright. His hand wasn’t as hot, your eyebrow twitching trying to get use of the feeling.

“Not used to prosthetics?” He murmured as his finger brushed against your most sensitive bundle. Biting your lip at the sensation.

You shook your head quickly, letting a smirk slip, “I am. Just not you.”

His eyebrows jumped as the corner of his lip curved, his hands leave it’s original place and rub itself up towards your waist, stopping as it reached the small pinch. Squeezing the lace covered bodysuit, trying to get a feeling of the skin beneath it.

One of his hands slipped down and grabbed your ass, groping as he lifted you up, pulling you into him, back to your previous position. His breath now hot against your neck, as his lips were merely a few inches away.

He swallowed, you watched his adam’s apple bop as the veins on his neck thicken. His tongue slid across his lips as he eyed the exposed skin of your neck, his hand still tight on your bottom.

He hissed as he felt your slick wetting your underwear, “Why don’t I get you accustomed then.”

It wasn’t a question, more like an order― his voice raspy, out of breath and deep, the volume echoing into your spine. Getting aroused by the mere sound of his voice, though his touch was nothing to look pass either.

Knocking the wind out of you as he spins you over, pinning you down on the dark blanket. At the corner of your eye you watched as pillows bounced off the bed due to the sheer force. Your mouth gaping at the sight of him above you, breathing heavily as the hair on his head fell across his forehead slightly, he looked fucked out before you even began.

He had his thick muscular thighs pushing against yours spreading them apart, as he did this you heard a gush of arousal push out. Eyes widening in embarrassment but he didn’t seem to care, he seemed to have liked that. Gliding his warm hand that was on your waist up towards the zipper in front of your chest.

Hearing him slip a groan as the zipper was being pulled down, more and more of your cleavage being revealed to him. As it stopped at your hips he slipped his hands against your bare stomach, pushing the lace back, exposing your entire chest to him.

He bit his lip at the sight before a hand grazed one, making you whine at the sensation, “A whiner? Fuck, would you whimper for me?” He moaned at your voice.

It was hot, you felt hot― things were heated, “I’ll do anything you ask.” You whimpered, smiling as your eyes twinkled at his expression. He was pleased, a grin plastered on his face.

“Good,” He breathed, taking a nipple in his mouth. Twirling the nub with his hot, wet tongue― you arched your back letting a moan out. Your hand grasping underneath his arm, scratching against his back, feeling the muscle flex against your nails.

“Argh, how are you’re so hot,” You froze, shit, what did you just say. Guessing that he was confused, you looked scared. Pausing as your face burned red, “I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head, “Why’re you sorry?”

As if he was in disbelief, as if he didn’t understand what you were saying. In the House you weren’t really suppose to speak out of terms, as in you sound only response to your client. Though, you did let it slip every now and then, usually the clients never notice.

“I’m not suppose to―”

“Speak? Seriously?” He chuckles, pulling himself up, his bulge now placed perfectly at your entrance as he leaned on his forearms which were on the sides of your face. He stared down at you, one of his hands cupping your face, “I asked for you because I heard you speak out of ‘terms’, speak all you want baby girl. You got me hard just with that look on your face and fuck I’m leaking from the tone of your voice.”

“But―”

“Aah, no buts, I want to hear all of it,” His lips captured yours in a hot wet kiss, his lips were red from sucking on you before. Your moans were incased in the kiss, arching yourself into him as his hand slipped under your head to pull on your hair. He tasted like mints, must’ve been from the meeting but god he tasted hot, his tongue snaking around yours. He held onto your face, leaving your jaw open and your lips red and swollen.

“So hot, so fucking, hot,” He placed an open mouth kiss on your open lips and practically tongue fucking your mouth. Making you whimper at the rough feeling, feeling hot in your core― aching down there.

Yours hands running over his front, feeling the sculpted abdomen, whining at the feeling of it being clothed. Your eyebrows dropping as your lips pout at him, tucking on the shirt.

He chuckles with a deep breath, pulling away on his knees, “You’re needy, huh?” he began unbuttoning the top of his shirt, seeing more and more skin your smile grew bigger, biting your lips as you watched his bulge near your face. Resting on your elbows, one of your hands brushed against his cock, causing it to twitch.

He lets out a strangled groan, huffing at you. His hands shaking trying to button, what seemed like a million buttons. You felt kind of good teasing him, “Please―”

You palmed the protruding cock, blinking at him, hoping he’d hurry.

“If you want a taste, you’re going to need to take me out, baby,” Oh, so he wanted you to do it. Fine, you took that as a suck me off cue and unbuttoned him. Pulling down the zipper as you watched him slip the shirt off. 

Halting in your tracks at the sight, licking your lips, he took notice of your change of attention, “Like what you see?” He teased.

Taking your hand and placing it on his hardened stomach, his thick veiny hands gripped your smaller one tightly as he used your heat to rub himself. Nodding at his question you pushed off the bed into a sitting position, lips immediately on his hip― sucking on the protruding angle.

“Ah, argh, fuck,” He groaned, you watched as his only visible eye closing at the feeling. You wanted to please him so bad, he looked so good― all your hesitation and fear left at the fucking door.

Pulling his pants and underwear down quickly, taking him by surprise, before he could even say anything you had your hand on the base of his cock. It was huge, being compact and strained inside his tight pants you watched as it strung up to hit his belly button.

He gaped at sensation of a pair of warm hands rubbing on the base of his sensitive dick. His hands rubbing your head through your hair, pulling you in slightly.

“You want me to suck you off?” You tested.

He hummed in response, pulling you in even more. But you kept yourself in the same place, wanting to test him even more.

“Do you? Do you really?” You breathed, your breath blowing against his red, leaking cock. Teasing him as you did.

He seemed to not be very patient as that pretty much ripped him off his nice boy look, his eyes hair and lips set in a firm line― realising that you weren’t just a simple little submissive one but definitely a switch, though he wasn’t going to be having none of the latter. His hand now holding onto your jaw tightly, you stared into his eye― paying more attention to the eyepatch. God, he looked so hot with it.

“Be a good girl and suck me off, okay,” He growled, patting your cheek. You pout at this, feeling his dick throb against your palm as you stayed still.

He realised you weren’t going to do anything from that command, letting out an amused chuckle he bent down towards your face, “Difficult aren’t you? Don’t be a brat, come on―”

“―be a good baby girl and suck daddy’s cock, princess,” He placed a kiss on your forehead. Grinning as you got him to reveal his not so sly kink.

Enough of testing the air, you had your tongue out and licked the tip of the head. Tasting the salty precum, pursing your lips as you pushed his dick to the side. Placing a kiss on the base of his cock, tongue feeling the area before licking the side from base to tip, he choked out a moan at the feeling. Tightening his grasp on your hair, he must’ve liked that. Completely taking the tip in between your lips now.

Feeling the veins that throbbed through his length encased around your lips as he held onto your hair tightly, feeling himself getting so close he began fucking your throat. Gagging and whining at the roughness of his thrusts, you peered up to watch him, blinking as you saw him looking right at you. He choked out a moan as his thrusting jittered and stopped, watching as he quickly pulled himself out― pushing your head back, hearing a lewd pop of your lips, “Fuck, don’t look at me like that when your throat is filled with my cock, baby girl. I nearly came, fuck.”

Pushing you onto your back, he had everything off of you in a split second. Must’ve been that close cum call. Breathing heavily as he pushed your thighs up, placing himself between them. You watched him, his hot, wet― from your sucking, cock dangling it’s glorious self between his thick thighs before they disappeared into the sheets as his body flattened against it.

Completely distracted by his lower half, you didn’t notice his hot breath against your core. Taking you by surprise, a wet and hot lick flattening against your clenching hole, gasping as you felt his tongue exploring you. His hands holding onto your thighs, tightly spreading them apart as one slid itself up to hold your hips down. Completely held down and unable to move your hips against his tongue, he slowed the pace on purpose, hearing the displeased whimper that left your pouty lips he smirked against you as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, sending a huge jolt of sensation up your spine.

“We’re going to have to prepare your tight little pussy for this huge cock, princess,” He grunts, pushing his thighs underneath your own. Bringing his cock into view again, seeing it twitch and leak at the sight of your clenching saliva wetted hole.

His hand feeling down your cleavage, stomach, naval and stopping right before it hit your most needy spot, whining and thrusting your now free hip at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle before slipping his finger inside you, clenching at the thrust. He gaped, cocking his head, “Only one and already, whimpering? Fuck.”

His other hand squeezing your bottom as the pinky brushed against another hole, letting out a sharp breath you realised reacting like so was a mistake, seeing the arched eyebrow plastered on his face and his curved lip. As if he didn’t know he brushed another finger there.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” Leaving the finger already thrusted, knuckle deep into your pussy he teased the ring on your bum, feeling the hole clenching hard by the mere brush peaking his interest, “As much as I personally like this, you’d cum way too fast from this― we’ll keep this hole shut til next time.”

Leaving your other hole lonely and tight, he began thrusting again now with another finger. You couldn’t help but reach down to grab onto his wrist, feeling how hard his hand was and how fast he was going. He watched you with his body now leaning over you, hand flat by the side of your face. You could feel his throbbing dick rubbing against the inside of your thigh.

Moaning breathlessly at his pace, you felt it. You high racing up, you body tensing and clenching, he hummed at the tightness and began rubbing his thumb against your clit. A large gasp left your lips, holding onto his shoulder as your eyes shut and eyebrows squeezed together at the simulation, breathing out curses and moans you left gushes of cum pouring out of your.

“Fuck―uh―keep going, fuck!” there it was, already looking completely fucked out and coming undone infront of him. His eyes were watching his fingers disappearing inside you, biting his own lip as he felt it all.

He grinned at the cum all over his hand, “Great job.”

Taking that cum and rubbing it onto his length, pulling on it― getting himself ready as if he wasn’t hard as a fucking rock already. Pulling away from you, letting your arms drop down against the comforter. He pulled his pants off completely, alongside with his underwear. Nearly cumming again from the sight of his sculpted body, fully nude in front of you. 

“We’re not done yet, ready to go again?” He murmurs as he was paying a whole lot of attention to your swollen pussy.

“Of course I’m ready,” You breathed, you were so ready to feel that thick cock inside of you.

Chuckling, and letting out a low response he got to it. Placing your thighs on the sides of his waist, pulling you down to meet his hips. Pulling on his soaked cock he lined it against your already clenched whole, from the mere sight and though of him inside.

Rubbing the head up and down the slit, avoiding your clit, he pushed his hips forward feeling the head slip in a bit before pulling out and doing the same thing, “Stop teasing me.”

You whined, pouting at him. His lips curved, “You’re going to need to stop clenching then, it’s never going to go in like this.”

Rolling your eyes, settling onto your elbows you breathed slowly trying your best to stop clenching before he’s even inside, letting out a deep breath Jungkook began pushing in again but now not stopping once the head in nearly all the way in. Gasping at the feeling of fullness you held onto his forearms, squeezing, reassuring him to go on.

Thrusting up fully, and roughly, bottoming out against you. You let out a pitched gasp as he groaned, head dropping onto your shoulder. Letting you set yourself, you squeezed his arm again― he nodded against your shoulder, placing a wet open mouthed kiss against it before pulling out nearly all the way and thrusting. Your body shaking at every thrust, he held your waist to keep you in place. Dropping your head back moaning, he took the chance to suck on your neck drowning out his own moans.

Your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close you could feel him going faster, he must’ve been close. Beads of sweat rolling down him, you let out a loud whimper, “I’m close.”

“Yea? Fuck, I am too.” He looks up at you. Taking the opportunity of both being close, you wrapped your hands around his cheeks keeping his face up looking at you.

Your eyes opening and closing to his thrusting, moaning for him to see, watching his dark eye glazing over your lips. Your hand brushing against the string of the patch, Jungkook took your expression and reached his hand up to pull it off. His eyes both narrowing into you, you felt as if this was extremely thoughtful― seemed like an extremely big gesture to reveal something he was hiding from everyone.

Taking his lips you wet your tongue against his, sucking and pulling. Moaning into his mouth as your high came again, this one inside your core. His own choked breath you felt through his lips, pulling away you gasped.

“Come on then, cum for me,” He said.

His voice was enough to trigger your entire body to shiver, feeling the tinge and spike at your core. His thick cock holding that clenching making the sensation so much more heightened. Letting yourself go completely, visibly shaking in his arms. Eyes shutting and feeling it all.

He raced for his high not long after, using your high to help himself. Within a single loud groan you felt him fill you up completely. He was completely bottomed out inside you feeling your clenching and his throbbing cock inside you, both your cum filling you up.

As you both caught your breaths and came down from your high, he gently pulled out watching as the cum spilled out. What a sight. He rubs your thighs sensually before getting up.

Relaxing against your tower of pillows you stretched, feeling the cracks in your back and relief of the sounds. Watching Jungkook as he wondered around your room, “What are you doing?”

He perked up, turning to you. His body showing off his plump ass and softening cock, “Uh, towels?”

You let out a laugh before pointing towards the dresser where his blazer was, he nods and moves towards it, pulling out the first towel he sees. Getting back on the bed, his knees digging into the duvet, his weight completely shifting you. Holding onto his arm as he bounced around. He breathed an apology for being so rough, for jumping on the bed like that, you shook your head not really caring about it.

He wiped away the leftovers of your passionate fucking. Tossing the towel away as he captured your lips again. His tongue poking at your lips wanting entry.

“Baby girl, don’t be like that,” He pouts, looking much cuter now without the eyepatch. You chuckled at his pouting, a finger brushing over the red hair covering his eye. Purple and blue neon lights, reflecting against his eye. He swallowed, watching as you stared at the eye he kept hidden before.

“I don’t understand why you hide it,” You muttered, poking at the puffy bags under his eye instead of paying much attention to the eye.

He smiled, genuinely, “I don’t either, people think I have prosthetics in them,” shrugging before continuing, “I don’t, it’s just the colour― it kinda bothers me.”

Humming as you looked at it, the bottom half seemed normal, just brown like the other yet the top part was blue with specs of gray, “Did something bad happen to it?”

He shook his head, brushing your hair over your shoulder― placing another kiss on it, right at where he left a mark, “Something like that, it’s weird, huh?”

“Weird? No, it’s probably the most normal thing about you,” You replied, watching as he gave you a confused look.

Continuing on, as it seemed he needed the explanation, “You changed your body so much, from organic body parts that you lost into bionic parts instead of living with it. Whilst with this eye, you could’ve easily gotten it removed and changed even with organic parts yet you kept it. In a way, keeping the memory of it becoming that way, living with it. You tell me you’re not human, but you are. Being human is being able to adapt and live with whatever happens with you, even if you’ve had other things done, you kept something that everyone can see.”

An impressed huff left his lips, he grinned as he met your eyes again, “And yet during your ‘job’ they tell you to keep your mouth shut.”

“They’re just scared of how smart you are, how human you are, aren’t they?” He brushed his fingers against your jaw.

Blinking at him, letting your lips curve, “Maybe, though I don’t usually talk this much to anyone.”

“I guess I’m special,” He replies. Chuckling you hit his shoulder, he pretended that it hurt and rubs it, before his expression changes.

“So,” He flexes his back and straightens up, “Would you consider going outside with me?”

Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked out into the night, “What do you mean? I don’t think I can do that―”

“I think you can, I have you for the entire night.”

Watching him hop out the bed and throw his clothes back on in effort to make you agree, sighing at it knowing that leaving this room with this man would forever change you, it would change your life― whether it be for the better or worse, nothing was stopping you from taking the risk.

“Alright.”

c. 2018

[marvelous-heroimagines]

Transformation

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Bucky being an arsehole

A/N: No happily ever after ending, because people who act how Bucky did (in this) are trash. 

Finally submitting the last piece of paperwork for the week, you lean back in your office chair and let out a relieved sigh. Since starting at the Avenger’s Tower a month ago, you had been swamped with work. You’d been posted in the Tower by Ross, to make sure that the Avenger’s were crossing their T’s and dotting their I’s, especially now that Team Cap was allowed back; under special conditions.

You haven’t been at the Tower very long, but you were already starting to feel like part of the family. Even though you worked for Secretary Ross, and the Accords, the Avenger’s had never held that against you. They made you feel welcome and you were starting to feel comfortable about the heroes.

A loud bang brings you back to reality, and your chair snaps straight up, jolting you from your reclined position. Glancing towards the origin of the sound, you see a thick, new stack of files; with Bucky Barnes standing on the other side of your desk, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“I need these done,” he grunts at you, “Like now,”

“Really?” you groan, “I just finished. I wanted to get ready with Natasha for tonight’s party,”

Bucky scoffs, making your heart sink, “Yeah, right,” he turns on his heel and marches out of your office, an air of arrogance flowing from him.

Bucky was the only one that hadn’t accepted you into the Avenger’s family. The moment you stepped into the Tower, on your first day, he refused to talk to you or mingle with you. The only time he bothered to speak to you was when you had to finalise his paperwork. But that didn’t stop you from developing a crush on the super soldier. You had no idea why he treated you like dirt, but you knew that wasn’t who he was. You’d often sit in the gym, shrouded in the corner and watch the team train, or run communications from the Tower during missions; and you started to see a different side to him - a compassionate, caring side that would do anything for his friends, even if it meant putting himself in the firing line. But he didn’t know you saw that side to him, or that you liked him, and you knew that he’d never feel the same.

Pushing the files aside, you decide to leave them until tomorrow; even though you didn’t like to work on weekends, you wanted to get ready with Nat for tonight. Collecting your things, you sling your handbag over your shoulder and turn off your computer. Typing out a quick text to Nat, you make your way out of your office. But you stop dead in your tracks, just inside your office doorway, when you hear Bucky’s voice - gruff and dripping in annoyance.

“Why is she even invited tonight?” you hear him scoff to someone, “She is going to stick out like a sore thumb,”

“She’s part of the team,” you recognise Steve’s voice, “Why wouldn’t she be invited?”

“Because she dresses like an old lady... Or a toddler,” Bucky dryly chuckles, “Or both at the same time... Somehow,”

“Bucky, don’t be mean,” Steve warns, his voice giving away his uncomfortable feeling at Bucky’s cruelty. You stomach sinks as Bucky’s words hit you; you knew he was mean, but this was malicious,

“Why does she even bother?” Bucky continues as tears start to well in your eyes.

You glance down at your outfit and realise that maybe he isn’t wrong. You’d never cared about what you looked like; it was never important, you’d always cared about your brains more than your beauty. But hearing Bucky’s words hurt, more than you thought they would’ve.

“That’s enough, Buck,” Steve replies, this time more stern. You wait until you hear both of them walk off into the Tower before you emerge from your office, tears welled in your eyes and threatening to spill.

“Hey, I was just-” Natasha’s voice sounds from down the hall, but she stops when she sees your expression, “What happened?” she worries, rushing over to you and looking you over,

“I need a makeover,” you say, ignoring her question, “For tonight. I need your help,”

Natasha’s eyes search your determined expression before she slowly nods, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, “I have just the dress,”

You can’t stop staring into the mirror, convinced that at any second the reflection would move. But it doesn’t, it was really you. Natasha appears over your shoulder, a satisfied smile on her face.

“You look incredible,” she breathes out, taking in your appearance in the mirror,

“You’re a miracle worker,” you chuckle, still in awe of the way the reflections moves as you do.

Nat shakes her head, “This is all you, Y/N,”

You grin at her before your reflection draws your attention again. After a few hours, and almost poking your eye out trying to put in contacts, Natasha had completely transformed you. Her metallic dress clung to your body in all the right places, and your hair was swept up into an up-do. You couldn’t have imagined looking better for Tony’s party tonight.

“Alright,” Nat says, pulling you out of your head, “We’re late, but we’re fashionable,”

You laugh at her as she slings her arm through yours and leads you out of her room and towards the party hall. Your stomach was flipping and twisting with every step that brought you closer to the party. You were nervous, but you were excited at the same time; ready to show everyone that you could be beautiful and smart.

It felt like the entire, packed hall stopped and stared as you and Nat entered. A part of you wanted to shrink away and disappear from sight, but Natasha gives your arm a reassuring squeeze and you glance at her with worry.

“Don’t worry,” she coos in your ear, “Let them stare, we look great,”

Her confidence gave you the courage to keep walking, and soon you join the rest of the team. Tony, Steve, Sam and Clint all grin at Nat, and their mouths fall open when they look at you.

“Holy shit,” Steve says, sounding completely bewildered,

“Language, Cap,” Tony snickers, making Steve frown, “But holy shit is right,”

“You look smoking!” Sam says before letting out a low whistle that made you giggle and your cheeks blush, “Just wait til Bucky sees you,”

You clench your jaw at the mention of your crush. You were still hurt that he said those mean things about you, but now you were determined to prove him wrong. You excuse yourself from your friends and wander through the crowd - mostly people you’d never seen before.

A strong hand wraps around your elbow, pulling you to a stop. You spin around and come face to face with Bucky. His eyes rake up and down your figure, a look of lust in his eyes. You can’t stop yourself from smiling as he stares, feeling satisfied that he was checking you out.

“Well, hello,” you say, the amusement thick in your tone,

“What’s your name, doll?” he asks as his eyes finally meet yours. You frown at him, wondering if this was a joke. But as he stares at you expectantly, it dawns on you that he didn’t recognise you at all.

You stay silent, unsure how long you were going to let Bucky think that he didn’t see you every day. His metal arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, making your cheeks flush.

“C’mon,” he coos, his voice low and gruff with lust, “It’s got to be a pretty name, with a face and body like that,”

You can’t stop yourself from snorting with laughter, and you try to find it with a cough, but Bucky noticed, his eyes narrowing with confusion. With a frown, his eyes search your face, looking as though he was trying to put it all together.

“Wait, do I know you?” he asks with a tilt of his head. You hum nonchalantly and wonder how long it’ll take him to realise, “Will you dance with me?” he asks, dropping his curiosity.

“No, thank you,” you say. You’d always wanted to dance with Bucky, after hearing how good he used to be, but he didn’t even know it was you. To him, he wasn’t dancing with you - the girl he’d insulted just hours ago - but he would be dancing with a beautiful woman he wanted to sleep with. Bucky looks taken aback at your refusal, “First time you’ve been denied?” you ask, your eyebrow cocking with amusement.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to think of a witty reply. Eventually, he just closes his mouth and nods slightly, his eyes leaving yours with embarrassment and staring at the floor; and you have to hold back the cynical laughter.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” you say, bringing his attention back to you, “I have to get back to my office... Some arsehole gave me his paperwork to do,” you stare at Bucky, waiting for him to catch on. His brows furrow and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head, “Guess I did end up sticking out like a sore thumb... Just not how you’d expected,”

Bucky looks as though he’s been slapped in the face and his jaw drops open, “Y/N?” he all but whispers.

You smirk at him, a look of annoyance and sarcasm clearly on your face as your cross your arms over your chest, “Scrub up pretty good for a girl that dresses like a toddler and an old lady, huh?”

Bucky looks you up and down again, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He nods ever so slightly, still looking as though he couldn’t believe it was you.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you say before spinning on your heel,

“Wait!” Bucky shouts, grabbing your elbow again and spinning you back around. You cock your head as you wait for him to speak, “I-I’m so sorry about what I said... You’re beautiful,” he breathes out.

It was words you’d wanted to hear for weeks, but now that he was saying it because you’d undergone a transformation, the words had little substance. If anything, the words made you angry. Bucky didn’t think you were beautiful before you changed your appearance; and you never wanted to change who you were for a man.

“Thank you, for your apology,” you say as you straighten up. Without another word, you spin on your heel and walk away.

As you wander through the crowd, your eyes searching for Natasha, you feel your crush for Bucky melt away. He hadn’t given you a second thought until you put on a tight dress and makeup; he wasn’t worth it. You knew you needed someone who loved you the way that you were every day of the week, not just at parties.

Tags: @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation, @coffeeismylife28, @heismyhunter, @klutzly, @hantu369mc, @meep-meep22, @redstarstan, @rosyfluffyprincess, @leahhavoc, @buckyobsessed, @thedarknesswarrior, @melconnor2007, @addictionmarvel, @addictwithafandomblog, @bexboo616, @hesitant-poison, @invisible2niall, @woww-za, @impala-moose, @stratmoxphere, @bearded-bucky, @caitsymichelle13, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @wunnywho, @girlwith100names, @ipaintmelodies, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked, @spookydoritos, @fanboyswhereare-you, @yoinkpeter, @psychicwitchphilosopher, @tcmhollnd, @all-that-glitters-is-cold, @xplumsceptrequeenx, @lilya-petrichor, @hells-princess

Tags that didn’t work: @mo320, @mrs-stan-barnes

[welovekpopscenarios]

Don’t Be Jealous (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Hi um I've never mad a request before so I don't really know how to do this. My request is when jimin gets jealous and becomes super dominant - @thegirlthatdreams3

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1885

Authors Note: You requested just fine! I hope this is to your liking, thank you for the request, I apologise for how long it took! Happy reading!

“Only I should be allowed to look at you like that, baby.”

The hard wall of the dark broom closet was rough and cold against your back as Jimin pinned you to it, his right hand holding your wrists above your head and the other working to pull your dress further down your body and into a pool of fabric at your feet. You would protest about getting undressed in a dirty closet, but one look at Jimin and the words die on your mouth, for Jimin is uncharacteristically serious right now, and dark, lustful glint in his eyes that give a warning and leave you rubbing your thighs together in search of delicious friction.

Attending social parties with Jimin and the others in BTS was nothing new; after all, you were an assistant, having to be on hand to tend to their needs or assist with the duties of their managers. What people didn’t know about you was your relationship with Jimin – one kept behind tightly locked doors, sealed away bolt after bolt, only for you and Jimin to be privy to. Not even his bandmates knew of this, and the feeling of betrayal was a heavy one, but the argument remains the same no matter how guilty you both feel – this was to be kept a secret, for if the public knew of this affair, the backlash would be terrible on both Jimin and yourself, and you’d do anything to avoid having anyone scrutinising him more than the media already does. And so, the relationship was kept private.

But things get awkward when the both of you find yourselves in a public setting together. Not because you’re both afraid the secret will slip and everyone will find out, no, you’re both very careful about that aspect, and make sure to keep things to minimal and fleeting touches of hands that mean promises of more out of everyone’s view. It gets awkward because you often have to watch the throngs of women (and sometimes men) throwing themselves at Jimin’s feet, flirting ridiculously hard in an attempt to win over his already taken affections. The sight always makes you frown irritably, a gag threatening to leave your mouth at every annoying high-pitched giggle that Jimin returns with his own awkward chuckle. Yes, this a recurring problem in your life, but one you learn to deal with. You trust Jimin wholeheartedly, and are assured that he would never do anything with anyone else.

But, on rare occasion, the tables are turned, and it’s Jimin who has to experience the ire of watching his beloved being approached by someone and flirted with greasily. And what many didn’t know, was that Jimin was a possessive and jealous being.

When the sharply dressed man approached the table the BTS crew were sitting at with the band, you thought nothing of it. He was speaking to someone else, it did not matter to you. But when he made his way towards the empty seat next to yours – a seat only a few spaces away from where Jimin sat eyeing him – you should have ignored his smarmy smile, should have already been repulsed enough to back away from his greasy head and clammy hands that shook yours, but for the sake of keeping face on behalf of BigHit Entertainment, you returned the smile and engaged in conversation.

Big mistake.

The already overbearing presence of the man escalated into uncomfortable comments about your attire to brushing thick fingers over your shoulders, all the while attempting to ease his way into your pants with what he thought were great pick-up lines. You were highly annoyed at his behaviour, but couldn’t do much for you might ‘cause a scene ’, and so you endured it – even if the thought of slamming your head against the dinner table and promptly knocking yourself out to avoid this conversation crossed your mind more than once.

Your torture was put to an end when the man whose name you didn’t bother to remember was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, and you both looked up to see Jimin standing behind him with a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face. He asked the man if he could steal you away for a few moments, he “needed help with his outfit”, apparently, and laughed when the man said jokingly “don’t take her for too long, she’s quite the girl!”. And with that, Jimin whisked you away and saved you from a night of torture, at least for a little bit.

Well, you thought you were saved, until you were dragged into a closet and had a pair of lips pressed against your lips, which brought you to your current predicament of Jimin undressing you feverishly in the cramped space as you desperately bucked your hips against Jimin’s.

“It was disgusting,” he breathed, a light groan escaping his lips as you managed to grind against his erection oh so perfectly. “I had to watch as he was all over you. I hate it sometimes, having to hide everything,” he sucked and nipped at your neck, and you let out a whine, a whine that was quickly hushed by his lips. Your tongue moved with his, and after a moment he separated for air, his panting breaths hitting your face. “No, no, baby. You can’t make any sound or they’ll find us.”

You bit your lip to keep from moaning aloud as his hand that was not holding your wrists captive travelled down your body to your underwear, smirking when he already felt a wet patch formed on the fabric. His fingers traced your slit through the material of your panties and your knees turned to jelly, your hips moving in the direction of his hand for more, more, more.

“Jimin, please,” you moaned, head rolling back to hit the wall behind you as you stared at him behind heavy lids. He brought his lips down upon yours once more, pressing roughly to yours in a way that had your head spinning. You squeaked into his mouth when you felt his thumb press firmly against your clit, moving back and forth and shooting pleasure through every inch of your body. Jimin’s plush lips left yours once more, and he levelled you with a heavy stare, eyes black with lust and greed.

“You’re mine,” he stated, continuing to torture you with the slow movement of his thumb on your clit, his lips brushing your lips as he kept his stare on you, making sure to look deeply in your eyes. “I love you, and only you,” he said, and those simple words which held so much weight caused your heart to dissolve with happiness, the earnestness in his voice making it seem much more real. His behaviour made sense to you – you were always in his shoes, watching as others tried to claim what was not theirs. But not once did you ever think Jimin would leave you. Jimin wouldn’t think so either, but it’s amusing to see his jealousy shine through his usually cheery disposition.

“I’m yours, I only love you,” you returned, and there was a beat of silence before Jimin was kissing you hard again, teeth clashing with yours as his movements became more frantic, his hand releasing your wrists and moving to his belt to undo it hurriedly. Your free hands flew to his hair and tugged, provoking Jimin to groan into your mouth so nicely as he tugged his pants down his thighs in a rush. Freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers, he pumped it a few times, pulling back to look at you as he licked his lips.

“Do you want this?” he asked, and you nearly got whiplash from how hard you nodded your head. It was all the consent Jimin needed to reach down and push your panties to the side, lining the head of his member to your entrance and pushing in. You covered your hand with your mouth, nervous someone might hear your possible scream of pleasure as he filled you up so perfectly. Staying still for a few seconds, you began to move your own hips forward, prompting him to start moving on his own. He plunged in and out of you at a fast pace, the combination of the wall and his warm, toned body making you dizzy in a strange mix of pleasure, your teeth biting down on his shoulder through his shirt. Jimin hissed at the pain and thrusted faster into you, picking you up by your back legs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

The new position allowed him to hit that perfect spot inside of you and also brush his abdomen against your bud, and this sent you closer to your end at a fast rate. Jimin sensed this when you started to clench uncontrollably around him, and in return he fucked you even harder. One particular thrust sent you spiralling into an abyss of pleasure, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as Jimin continued his thrusting to reach his own end. Your body twitched in ecstasy, and you watched as Jimin, with brows furrowed, attempted to hit his own high, and he must have reached it, for he pulled out quickly, leaving you achingly empty and rubbed his cock before coming, blowing his seed all over yours and his stomach as he sighed in content.

It was quiet in the closet other than the rapid heaving of your chests as you tried to regain your breath, but it was interrupted by your laughter. Jimin looked up at you bemusedly as you giggled stupidly into your hand, laughing harder when you caught his eye. “What?” he asked confusedly, and you laughed some more before you could answer him properly.

“Were you really jealous of that icky man?” you asked, and snorted when Jimin blushed a bright red, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your stare.

“I didn’t like the way he was invading your space. He made you uncomfortable, and I didn’t want that for you,” he explained quietly, and you gave a fond smile before grabbing his beautiful chubby cheeks and kissing him sweetly. He melted into the kiss, smiling when you released him and staring at you, face alight in love.

“There’s no need to be jealous of him. Or anyone else, for that matter,” you explained, booping his nose and smirking when he grimaced in embarrassment. “I love you, Jimin. There’s no one else I’d rather have than you.”

Jimin beamed goofily, moving to give you another kiss before you stopped him. He frowned at you, a question lingering on the tip of his lips before you pointedly stared down at your stomach, his mess all over your body. Jimin blushed even harder, his mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as realisation struck him.

“Help me get cleaned up, this was your fault because you were a jealous baby,” you teased, and Jimin shot you a playful glare, pecking your lips one last time before he began searching the closet for a cloth.

You both may have your jealous moments, it’s hard not to.

But you know that there’s no separating either of you, not for anything in the world.

[matskreider-blog]

So I know I'm a little behind with sending this in but for that fic prompt thing but how about 5 (Just breathe) with juuse/pekka or 17 (yeah, I have a plan) with burky/holtby? Please don't feel like you have to do both if you don't want too. Also I love your writing and just your blog in general!

17. “Yeah, I have a plan.” “Is it a good one?” “I have a plan.” james bond au, number 5 answered right here !

“If I’ve told you once, 008, I’ve told you a million times. I work hard to engineer these, by hand, and I’m not explaining to M again why you felt the need to destroy a few million dollars worth of machinery because you couldn’t be bothered to listen to the plan. You’re an entire fool if you think I won’t make him put you on desk duty again, and if he doesn’t, I will make you wish. He. Had. Do you understand me?” Nicklas growls, staring down Ovi from across his desk.

Ovi’s reputation for destroying the gadgets created by their Quartermaster was legendary, and Nicklas’ predecessor had simply learned how to navigate around his destructive tendencies. Nicklas, however, was determined to teach an old dog new tricks, and everyone had betting pools about which of them would crack first. He wasn’t the first to try to set Ovi straight, but he was the one who had lasted the longest.

Braden leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, having just returned from his Raleigh mission. The time difference wasn’t so severe that he was jet lagged, but he felt like he was losing all hope of sleep just watching Nicklas and Ovi go at it. He’s letting his eyes rest when he hears a timid set of footsteps coming up beside him. He lets the newcomer squirm for a little bit, before finally saying, “If you have a question, it helps to actually ask it rather than just sitting there in fear.”

When he cracks his eyes open, he sees a rather determined pout coming from Nicklas’ favorite underling, a new guy called Burakovsky. “Sorry, 0070. I was going to offer to debrief you, if you were waiting for Q. He’s, um…going to be busy for a while.”

Sure enough, the argument was reaching new levels, and Braden sighs, knowing it’s better to just take the help when it’s offered. “Sure, Burakovsky. Let’s go.”

“You can call me Burkie, if you want. Nicke does, sometimes,” Burkie says, before turning on his heel and opening up the debriefing paperwork on his tablet. “Come along, I’ll enter it all in so you can head right to medical after this.”

He must really be new, if he thinks I’m going to medical after this, Braden thinks to himself, before following along.

-

Burkie and Braden get closer over the following months, before they get a visit from the favored set of Swedish twins. The Lundqvist twins’ visit were a sigh of relief for everyone who had to deal with Nicklas during that time, because he was actually unclenched, for whatever reason. Henrik and Joel specialized in clothing based weaponry, accessories and what not, and their visits usually meant an upgrade in the agents’ wardrobes.

It also meant watching Henrik try not to peel Ovi out of his denim disasters and force him into something “suited for a spy of his caliber.” It was an age old battle, and Braden took great pleasure in watching the struggle. He did not, however, take pleasure in watching Burkie practically hanging off of the twins’ every word, whether it was Henrik talking about the difference between Oxfords and Brogues, or Joel walking him through the proper form on the shooting range.

He also should have been paying more attention when Burkie started asking for customized outfits from the twins. He probably should have been paying attention when he heard the rumor that he was shaping up to pass the fitness test. He definitely should have realized when he found Burkie, shirtless and panting, fighting Wilson in hand to hand. And holding his own, which was impressive in its own right.

But he was too busy trying not to lust after the one person who was perhaps harder to get to than Nicklas, but for the same reason; Nicklas himself. For a spy, he really wasn’t on his A game when it came to the young Swede, because he wound up finding himself completely blindsided as M sat him down and said, “You’re taking Burakovsky into the field.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir?”

“You’re taking Burakovsky into the field. He’s passed the requirements to enter the field. Take him with you on your next mission. You already have the details. Your flight leaves this afternoon, though; better hurry. I hear he’s already packed,” M replies, taking a sip of his bourbon and smirking at Braden.

He’s fucked.

-

Correction; they’re fucked.

They’re at a party in New York, and Braden’s already made his rounds, introducing people to Burkie as his business partner, before retreating to the smoke lounge. He can see Burkie still up and socializing, never once getting too hung up on one person, making his way through the room. Braden’s job is to talk to the Boss, currently sitting at his left, while Burkie distracts his coworkers long enough that he can figure out if he actually ordered the hit on the Russian ambassador or not.

All is going according to plan, until Burkie finds himself in a position that normally would be okay, but now, isn’t the best. Braden forces himself to bite his tongue as he listens to Burkie’s weak attempts to say no, and he catches sight of a gold dress practically pushing Burkie up the stairs.

“No, no I really shouldn’t –”

“Come on, live a little,” Gold Dress purrs, in a painfully fake French accent, just close enough to Burkie’s ear that Braden can pick it up.

“If you want some help, all you have to do is ask,” Braden murmurs into his glass. From the gasp on the other side, his words may have come too late.

“I mean, if you wanted to help me, that would be great. I mean, do you have a plan?” he answers to Braden, but Gold Dress takes it to mean it’s for her.

“Yeah, I have a plan.”

Gold Dress must be talking, because Burkie is silent for a moment too long. Braden politely excuses himself from the room, draining the rest of his whiskey and making his way upstairs. There’s a crackling in the earpiece, before he hears a muttered, “Is it a good one?”

“I said, I have a plan,” he mutters back, putting his hand on the doorknob of the room they’re in. He takes a breath, before throwing the door open, and walking in, pulling the jealous lover routine quite easily.

“I leave you for five minutes and you go and find the nearest tramp, is that it?” he growls, staring Burkie down.

The young Swede is spread on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and Gold Dress straddling him. Burkie tries to move, stuttering out, “It isn’t what it looks like.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Andre,” Braden returns. The shock in Burkie’s eyes, that he not only knows his first name but is willing to use it, adds to the drama. Gold Dress quietly gets off of Andre, sitting on the edge of the bed in silence. Braden walks over and hauls Andre up to his feet, and pulls him into a bruising, claiming kiss. It’s not the way he thought he would make his move on Andre, if he ever did, and he can practically hear Nicke having a conniption when he hears about this, but Andre’s melting into his arms and his thinking shuts off.

By the time he pulls back, Andre’s looking up at him with stars in his wide eyes, and he’s all too warm and pliant in his arms. Gold Dress is long gone, and Braden clears his throat, stepping back. “Did, um. Did you get what we came here for?”

“Oh.” Disappointment clouds his gaze. “Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, there’s no way he could have. I checked all their weapons, it, um, doesn’t match the caliber. If he did order it, it didn’t come from inside his Family,” Andre answers.

“Well, good job. We should head back.” He should be headed towards the door, but he doesn’t want to let go of Andre just yet. Who knows when he could have this again?

“We could. But, um. There’s more of the city to explore, if you wanted,” Andre murmurs, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose a bright red. “Even if it’s just our hotel room…”

Braden smirks at what has got to be the shyest proposition he’s ever received. “I think that could be arranged.”

He’s not expecting the following kiss, but then again he’s never really expecting anything when it comes to Andre.