#and how he met a reader that even if he shat on it loved his book and even helped to bring his real outline to life

[nibbelraz]

Falling back in love with your craft

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

.

.

Part 2

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question. 

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted. 

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week. 

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation. 

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.” 

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that. 

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand. 

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation. 

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows. 

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm. 

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face. 

“Nope,” you shrugged. 

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest. 

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought. 

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again. 

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after. 

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience. 

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.” 

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again. 

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro. 

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before. 

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control. 

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up. 

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight. 

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response. 

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible. 

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned. 

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone. 

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen. 

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone. 

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for  updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off. 

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.” 

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut. 

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position. 

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand. 

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head. 

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?” 

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head. 

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him. 

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked. 

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips. 

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question. 

It’s him. You thought. 

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target. 

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him. 

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.  

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him. 

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him. 

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you. 

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you. 

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms. 

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down. 

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag. 

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home. 

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares. 

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head. 

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions. 

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation. 

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be. 

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally. 

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?” 

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him. 

“Happy now?” Price asked. 

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work? 

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!” 

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost. 

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered. 

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face. 

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you. 

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you. 

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.” 

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava. 

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged. 

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything. 

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.” 

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions. 

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate. 

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.” 

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer. 

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black. 

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you. 

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back. 

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched. 

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes. 

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in. 

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground. 

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..” 

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly. 

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch. 

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly. 

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke. 

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away. 

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.” 

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you. 

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system. 

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.” 

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions. 

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth. 

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out. 

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath.  “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

[hisui-dreamer]

such lengths

Pairing: Floyd Leech x f!reader

Synopsis: if your fiancé is the one to kill you in an arranged marriage you can't refuse, then why not seduce said fiancé so he won't kill you?

Tags: fluff, cliché isekai plots, reincarnation, female reader, historical setting, arranged marriages

Word count: 1.7k+

Notes: how did i write more for floyd than malleus💀

anywaysss early birthday prize for everyone's second favourite eel!!

✧Jade's Villainess✧ ✧Malleus' Villainess✧

Masterlist

The tale of this noblewoman is nothing short of a pitiful one.

Though born into a lineage of high prestige, her family's former glory had withered away, drained dry by the toils of generations past. Yet, the count and countess, bound by love and tenderness, still showered their daughter with affection, sparing no effort to ensure her well-being.

The noblewoman yearned for this fleeting happiness to linger, but destiny rarely extends its benevolent hand for long. On her eleventh birthday, her mother, weary from the ceaseless burdens of the household, succumbed to a devastating illness and became bedridden. In a desperate gambit to procure funds for the cure to his wife's illness, the count embarked on treacherous voyages to distant shores, seeking business opportunities in the coastal realms.

But alas, the wheel of misfortune turned relentlessly. On her fourteenth birthday, while returning home with promises of a prosperous business deal, the count met his untimely end in a harrowing carriage accident.

As the sole heir to the county, she was burdened with the weight of the title, a mantle too heavy for an adolescent to bear. She undertook the grim task of orchestrating her father's funeral. During the somber ceremony, a peculiar party of visitors arrived, their countenance unsettling, teeth like razors and stature unnaturally tall. She soon learned these were the Leech family, the very traders her father had forged deals with.

They dangled an irresistible proposition before her, one she could not refuse; in exchange for becoming the betrothed of the eldest Leech son, her mother's well-being would be safeguarded, and the finest remedies would be at her disposal.

Thus, the noblewoman, too foolish and naive, chose to secure her mother's future. Their union was sealed when she reached the age of eighteen. Yet, not even a year passed before a sinister illness overcame her, her constitution ravaged by a poison slowly administered by her own husband.

The Leech family, though incredibly wealthy and influential, had always hungered for the societal standing that had long eluded them. The noblewoman, unknowingly, was their golden ladder to ascend into aristocracy, for deceiving the aristocratic circles into believing she was sickly, much like her mother, proved a simple task.

And so, the noblewoman passed away pitifully, her title passed into the hands of her husband, and her mother soon followed her beloved daughter.

of all the characters you could've have reincarnated as, you had the worst luck of all when you woke up as Floyd's late wife

heck, Floyd wasn't even the main character of the novel, it was some businessman that grew up to be greedy and cruel, but had to learn how to love again after meeting the heroine

his late wife was just briefly mentioned for a paragraph about how the leech family, basically the mafia from "fathoms below", started gaining more influence and helped the businessman with his schemes

though Floyd and his twin brother jade did gain a large fanbase, they were a pretty striking duo and when did red flags ever stop fans from simping

you yourself were a huge fan of the twins, but even you didn't instantly recognize you became Floyd's late wife

it was only when you were grieving with your mother about the passing of your caring father and the leech family showed up at the funeral

the striking teal hair, mismatched eyes, and carefree grin stood out almost immediately

Mr. Leech, an formidable figure, cast a shadow of authority as he shattered the oppressive silence that had draped itself over the elegant garden. His voice, deep and resonant, possessed a commanding quality as he addressed you. "My condolences for your loss, my dear. Your father and I were business partners... He spoke very highly of you."

With a sense of poised grace, you offered a nod at his words. "Thank you, Mr. Leech. It is an honor to have made the acquaintance of your family, even under these less-than-fortunate circumstances."

Jade, his sharp and composed eyes keenly focused on you, joined the conversation. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm Jade," he offered his hand in greeting.

You shook his hand, your voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Jade."

In stark contrast, Floyd, exuding an aura of indifference. Mr. Leech took it upon himself to introduce him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "And this is Floyd, my eldest son."

You extended a polite greeting to Floyd, your tone warm and inviting as you curtseyed. "Hello, Floyd. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Floyd, maintaining his stoic demeanor, made a "hmph" sound before turning away, his demeanor aloof.

Sensing the tension and his apparent disinterest, you scrambled for a way to interest him. "Oh uhm, you must be tired from your journey. Would you care for some refreshments? We have some pastries prepared, if you'd like."

He turns back to you, a glint of interest flickering in his curious eyes. "Hmmm... Alright, why don'tcha show me what you've got prepared, Shrimpy?" He responds, the edges of his lips curling upward.

thankfully, the funeral came to a close peacefully, and Floyd seemingly got along with you

from then you awaited the offer letter from Mr Leech to arrive

you remembered that Floyd, though easily bored, could be really dedicated to something if he wanted to

so what better way to survive, than to make Floyd like you?? only then will your mom get the medicine she needs, and you'll survive without struggling in poverty

worse case scenario, he gets bored of you when you're older and you'll just divorce

and if he's the one asking for the divorce, he can't really make you pay compensation for the past medical fees

so, you decided to accept the proposal nonetheless

but not without precautions!! you started studying intensely on all sorts of poisons and antidotes, just in case Floyd randomly gets bored and tries to unalive you

though if he wanted to end your life with brute force, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance against him

as fiancés, there's not much improvement in your relationship

sometimes he's bored and finds hanging out with you a chore, other times he's following you around like a curious puppy, and there are also moments where he pranks you to see your reactions

you've tried becoming closer to him by getting him cool shoes and playing instruments, but he's far too aloof for you to know if he likes you or not

but thankfully, your mother's complection has improved a lot, and it does look like she's recovering

and once you're both officially adults and married, you start attending public events with floyd to establish your connections

or more accurately, for the leech family to establish connections with aristocracy

this time, it was a tea party held by some business competitors of the leech family

The elegant garden was a tranquil haven for the tea party, the soft murmur of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze providing a soothing background to the clink of fine china and hushed conversations. You, Floyd, and the other aristocratic adolescents settled around a beautifully adorned table, the porcelain teacups and dainty pastries tempting you all.

Floyd lifted the delicate teacup to his lips as he rolled his eyes, having grown weary of the incessant chatter and polite pleasantries that surrounded him. Just as he was about to take a sip, you noticed a faint, unusual scent wafting from his cup, a scent that sent a chilling realization down your spine.

With lightning-quick reflexes, you reached out and pressed your hand against Floyd's, preventing him from taking that fateful sip. "Wait, Floyd, don't," you whispered urgently.

Startled, Floyd's gaze darted to your eyes, confusion etched across his face. "What's wrong, Shrimpy?" he asked, taken aback by your trembling hands.

You carefully take out the silver hairpin gifted to you by Mr Leech from your hair, murmuring, "Please explain this to father-in-law later..." Carefully, you submerged the hairpin into Floyd's cup, and both of you watched in horror as the pearly hairpin rapidly transformed into a sinister shade of black.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the poisoned tea, realizing the danger he had been unknowingly on the brink of. Anger simmered beneath the surface, his emotions stirred by the audacity of someone attempting harm. Swiftly, he plucked the hairpin from the cup, using his handkerchief to conceal the incriminating evidence before the guests could catch on.

"I'm bored," His voice carried throughout the venue, capturing the attention of the other guests. "Let's get out of here." He said as he pulled you up from your seat with a firm yet gentle gesture, placing an arm around your shoulder as he guided you away from the tea party.

Once you were far from prying eyes, he pulled you close, wrapping you in a protective embrace. His large hand moved soothingly over your back, attempting to calm your trembling form.

"Thanks, Shrimpy. I owe ya one" he whispered into your hair. After a brief moment, he pulled back slightly, his intense gaze fixed on your eyes. "But how'd ya know my tea was messed with?"

Anxiety seized your body at the question, the weight of your response holding immense consequences. If you answered wrongly, Floyd might suspect your intentions. In a panic, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I wanted to protect you!"

Floyd blinked. "Protect... me?"

"Yes!" You affirmed. "I thought maybe there would be attempts on your life since your family's incredibly influential, and I wanted to be able to protect you..." You murmured the last bit, praying that you were making sense.

With an expression of genuine astonishment, Floyd stared at you, unblinking. It was clear that your explanation had taken him by surprise, the notion of your dedication leaving him momentarily speechless.

"You... you went through such lengths... to protect me?" Floyd finally managed to utter, a hint of incredulity in his voice. A glimmer of warmth crept into his eyes as he studied your face, taking in the sincerity in your actions.

Before you could conjure up an answer, his grip on your shoulder tightened, drawing you closer to him. "You're really something else, Shrimpy," he murmured, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Hahaha! I wouldn't mind having you around!"

needless to say, floyd started following you around even more now

it seems this event really helped you gain his trust and affection

soon after the party, he gifted you a new hairpin, with "pearls he found himself" he says

he starts getting jealous when you spend more time studying poisons with jade but if you say you're doing it because you want to protect him he melts again

looks like you're not losing your life anytime soon, but i also don't think that eel is letting go of you ever

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[huboi]

☆ - GUINEA PIG HYBRID READER FT MULTIPLE JJK MEN !

╰┈➤ includes; gn! hybrid reader, mainly focused on reader squeaking and the guys falling heads over heels all over again, mentions of eating food

╰┈➤ a/n; this fic is heavily inspired by @appleblueberry-pie s’ post on Guinea pig hybrid reader with jjk men, tysm for letting me use this for a fic 🧡

SATORU GOJO

when satoru first met you, he was instantly in love

you’re guessing that it’s mainly due to your unusual features such as small ears and a tiny barely noticeable tail

he hasn’t seen many hybrids in the sorcerer world, other than panda

one thing that gave him a huge fright was when you first squealed out of nowhere when he brought home some sweet treats

he was very concerned that you were in pain or injured in some way, only to be relieved once told you involuntarily tend to squeal when you get excited

after this experience he tries his best to excite you when possible, since he can’t get enough of your squeaks

always refrains from just squishing your cheeks together in response

man wants to keep you in his pocket

GETO SUGURU

enjoys hearing your squeals

he becomes extra soft when he hears them

one second he’s tearing down another pathetic useless monkey

and the next he’s practically cooing as you squeal in happiness once he comes back from his cult to visit you

you also tend to purr like a cat, especially when he sits you on his lap

his heart fucking melts

loves giving your ears little scritches since it makes you practically vibrate on top of him whilst putting like a lil’ kitty

if you’re unable to speak whilst squealing then he doesn’t mind, he actually finds it enduring how you can’t talk when squealing in joy

yes his daughters also love you so much, they both think you’re the cutest thing they’ve ever seen

NANAMI KENTO

man damn near shat himself the first time you started squeaking

it was when he came home from the usual sorcerer work, and he had a fresh loaf of bread to share with you

you just couldn’t hold back your excitement

you were so embarrassed afterwards, hiding your face behind your hands as nanami looked at you with concern

stuttering, you explained to him that you tend to squeak uncontrollably when you get excited

nanami finds it relaxing when you perch yourself on his lap and start purring in content

he low-key finds it very therapeutic and it helps him destress after a hard day at work

he finds it very cute and unique how you make certain noises when feeling different emotions, gives you more character in his book

won’t admit it but he always finds himself with a little smile plastered on his face when around you

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he’s such a meany about your squeaks :(

always teases you whenever you make animal noises

“aww, you happy to see me sweet thing? why didn’t you just say so?” he’ll coo whilst squishing your cheeks together before giving you a small yet sloppy kiss onto both cheeks

your squeaks scare him at times, but you won’t hear that from him

sometimes he’ll just be chilling then all of a sudden loud ass squeals echo throughout the house and he nearly has a heart attack

actually enjoys hearing you purring, especially sat on his lap

9 times out of 10 pretty much forces you on his lap or chest when you start purring

he actually seems to become less stiff and more calm when you purr on him

sometimes forgets you’re a hybrid and so gets a small surprise when he spots your lil ears on top of your head

CHOSO KAMO

has never in his 150 years of life seen a hybrid at all

very curious of your existence

will ask lots of questions even when you get into a relationship, he’s just a really curious fella what can he say?

he asks them so that he understands you better

when you first squeaked was when he gave you a small kiss on the lips, he was worried he did something wrong

only to be proven wrong when you snuggle up against the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around his body whilst your squeaks slowly but surely turn into content purrs

he melts into your embrace, he’s never felt this content in life other than when he’s with his brothers

your squeaks give him serotonin, he can’t live without your squeaks

enjoys how when he makes spaghetti that you start squeaking even before the foods ready, he concludes that you simply enjoy food so much

SUKUNA RYOMEN

claims that your presence annoys him to no end, especially your squeaks and purrs

then when you stop making those noises around him he feels…. sad?

not even an hour later and he’s telling you that he actually doesn’t mind your noises, low key is fond of them, but he won’t straight up admit he likes them, he’s too far up his own ass to admit when he likes something

he has probably seen hybrids at some point during his thousand plus years of existence, but even he’s aware of how rare hybrids are in the jujutsu world

your happy squeaks make him feel things he’s never felt before

the same goes for your purring

if he’s been gone for a long amount of time, you’ll rush up to him and embrace his muscular body as tight as possible whilst you purr which causes your body to vibrate against his

he finds it weird how your body vibrates when you purr

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

[charlesslut16]

-I love you-

summary : max's helping you with your eating disorder...

PAIRING : max verstappen! fem!reader

WARNINGS : angst, eating disorder, curse words, mentioning of throwing up

NOTE : i also struggled from a eating disorder and know how hard it is. If you have problems with eating, you can talk to me i'm here for you guys. I love you

masterlist

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You had an eating disorder, a terrible one at that. It was really hard for you to eat as much and like everyone would. You always tried eating when no one was there to witness it.

People always asked why it was such a big deal, and you didn't know how to answer the question, because you didn't know what to say. It just was really hard talking about it.

But you luckily have an amazing boyfriend, max, who is always there for you. 

He tried to get you motivated every time, and it luckily worked. Well, most of the time...

For example, today was a really bad day for you, and after eating you felt guilty, so you went to your bathroom and made you threw up. Not one but two times at that.

You thought you would gain too much weight, and you would get hated on. You also thought that if you gained too much weight, Max would want to be with you anymore.

After all, he was a two - time world champion, and you were just a girl from England.  Every girl wanted to be in a relationship with him, but he only wanted you. 

You started sobbing and feeling guilty again of what you just did. You threw up, although you promised max you wouldn't do it anymore. Not only that, but you were doing so well, but today was just a down day.

The front door opened, the keys jiggling and the door closing again. Shit. You heard max call after you in the house, but didn't get anything back. It made him suspicious, so he went to the bathroom and heard you crying.

Max barged into the bathroom, seeing you looking up at him. He had a confused look on his face until your eyes met. He saw the tears and the guilt on your face.

"Hey shat, what’s wrong" he asked, kneeling down and siting next to you on the floor. Max pulled you into his arms, so you could cuddle you in his warm arms.

You tried to say something, but the words didn't come out, instead you hugged him and cried even more. You thought Max would be mad at you, but he wasn't, he had an understanding look on his face.

"Shh, it's okay. I’m here. Nothing is going to happen." he whispered softly in your ear. Then he gave you a kiss behind your ear shell and then on your head.

After a while, you dozed off. So he carried you in to your bedroom, to your bed, and cuddled you into him. You woke up again, looking up at him. Max sees you looking up at him. The look on your face telling him that you didn't want to talk about it.

So He put a movie on, laid down with, so your head laid on his chest while you watched the movie on the television. <Soon after, you fell asleep again while he was cuddling you.

"You're the most beautiful person i've ever seen. The funniest and loyalest woman I have ever met.  I hope you’ll see it to one day.  I love you so much, mijn hart." he whispered while you were already asleep. 

[insomniamamma]

Needles & Pins: Tattoo Artist! Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! Thank you, Mayor El, for planting this seed. I am currently mulling over a tattoo much like the one described here.

Warnings: Angst. Talk about failed marriage. Reader is an empty nester. Reader has grown children. Mentions of self harm scars. Blood. I have tattoos but it's been decades and I've done a bit of research to figure out the current state of it. Any inaccuracies are on me. And yes, Pedro's red devil Met Gala look was my inspiration for tattoo artist! Ez.

A bit of flirting. It is Ezra after all. But mostly gentle fluff.

 A chain of bells on the door jingles as you push your way through, briefly glare-blind from the sudden dimness, green afterimages from the sizzling sidewalks, air-conditioned cold hits hard, and you stand, blinking and foolish as the girl behind the counter sizes you up, wild mullet of bleach-blonde hair, face set and disproving, black lacquered nails and ears spangled with golden studs and bars.  “I’m sorry— I’m a bit early, I can come back—“ And she smiles, big and open and wide--  “Oh, heck! You’re the tardigrade lady! Ez did a bunch of sketches. Lemme go grab him-“ and she rattles her way through the beaded curtain behind the register and disappears “Ezra! Your three o’clock is here—“    A co-worker had recommended Needles & Pins when you’d admired her ink, a half-sleeve magpie with a skeleton key in its beak and constellations drawn behind it like an old map. It’s in Secret Springs. That’s kind of a haul. Yeah, but Ezra’s one of the best in the business. You’ve got plenty of PTO piled up. You’re just gonna lose it if you don’t use it. You could get out of here for a bit. Yeah, maybe. And Moira gives you a pitying look. You both know the chances of you using any of that PTO are slim. This last year and change has been a rollercoaster ride, your youngest graduating summa cum laude and fucking off halfway across the country, some job at an aerospace start up that you can’t even begin to understand, but she seems happy, and the vice-gripped, duct taped, cobbled together thing that your marriage had become finally shat out. I love you, he’d said, but not the way you need me to. And on that humid night, watching heat-lightning flicker through the clouds, you say nothing, just nod, because he’s not wrong, the two of you have been holding on for a long time, for the kids, for appearances, and it’s like unclenching a fist. Kept it civil, he let you keep the house rather than selling it and splitting the difference, moved back home with his brothers and his dad, still talk about once a week, mostly about Lilly and the boys. Married so young that you never learned to be alone. So you throw yourself into your job, because if there’s one thing you know how to do it’s press your shoulder to the wheel and shove.You and Moira laugh together, but when you get home you start researching Needles and Pins and Secret Springs, tiny state park with campsites and trails, bracketed with BNB’s and small shops, strange gerrymandered artifact, small strip of beach that hasn’t been subsumed by hotel chains and timeshares. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on vacation, the last time you’ve done anything for you and no one else, and you’ve e-mailed Needles and Pins almost without thinking. Why not? Why the fuck not?

  Appointments only. No walk ins. High end. Serious inquiries only.   And part of you balked, new to this possibility, had your ears pierced at Claire’s when you were twelve or so, and you’d felt stupid when you sent the e-mail off with some images attached. Sorry to bother you.   What a lovely idea. Water bears and fireweed together speak of resilience. The awakening of something new after a time of trial. There are species of pine that require the heat of wildfire to dry out their cones enough to spread their seeds. I would gladly meet with you to discuss this further.   And that’s how you ended up here, in this air-conditioned cave, narrow space full of framed flash art and old maps and framed photos of Ezra and the girl behind the counter, C? Sea? You didn’t quite register her name, flustered by the cool dark in contrast to the blazing heat outside.   “No need to yell, Birdie, I’m comin-“ Ezra rattles through the curtain. Broad is the first thing you notice, loud is the second. He is a confusion of color, heavily inked arms and a Hawaiian shirt bedecked with flamingos in sunglasses, spangled ears and a gold ring through his lip, bright shock of blonde hair amid his unruly curls. Smiling bright and wide,   “Hi there,” he says, purred southern drawl, and offers his hand, “I’m Ezra.”  “I figured,” you say and take his hand, warm fingers around yours and then he folds his other hand over yours, and you see that his right hand is an elaborate prosthetic, his whole arm up to his shoulder,  gold on black, a fearsome dragon framed in blooming orchids. You barely have time to register this and Ezra is ushering you through the curtain.  “I am guessing by your demeanor that this is your first tattoo,” and you smile, but can’t quite meet his eyes, his hand finds yours again and squeezes gently. “I’ve got several sketches based on our initial discussion, but i want you to know up front, if the art is not to your liking or if you change your mind about this entire venture I’ll not judge you for it.  “But the deposit—“  “A formality. Tends to keep people who aren’t sure of themselves away. I will never ink someone who isn’t fully committed, if you decide this isn’t for you i will refund you. No harm no foul. No pressure, clear?”  “Yeah. We’re clear.” Ezra smiles, dimples sinking into his scruffy cheeks, eyes crinkling into crescents.  “Excellent,” he says, “Let me show you what me and Cee came up with.”

 

 “That one.” A tardigrade drawn in the traditional style, brilliantly colored in blues and greens with bold outlines, with two crossed fireweed fronds in watercolor.  “This is an approximation-“ says Ezra, “I will replicate the colors as best I can—“  “That one.” You say, “I like the hard and soft together.”  “I do as well,” says Ezra, “I must admit that I was hoping you’d choose this design. Strength and softness are not mutually exclusive. I should warn you though.  Watercolor tattoos tend to fade a bit faster than the more traditional styles-“  “Sunscreen and plenty of it” you say, and he smiles.  “That’s right, and A&D ointment as you heal. There’s plenty of fancy tattoo healing ointments to be found but A&D has always got me through. Why fix what’s not  broken? We’ll send you home with some instructions.” He takes the sketch you’ve picked out, “Hey, Cee! Can you finagle the scanner-“ Cee pops her head and arm through the beaded curtain. She grins, devilish and sharp like a crescent moon. “Old man, still can’t figure it out, huh?” Takes the sketch from his hand.  “Oi! You are but a humble apprentice,” says Ezra, but he smiles, “An initiate! A novice even!” Cee smiles back. This seems like an exchange that happens at least three times a week, and you feel yourself smiling along with them.  “Get her prepped. I’ll do the hard part.”  “That girl,” he mutters, “You take a seat right there—“ He gestures towards a set up that looks uncomfortably like a dentist’s chair, “Cee has my station set up, I just need to glove up and we’ll talk placement.”  “Left inner arm,” You frown. You’d said so over e-mail. Can’t help but watch the flex and bend of him as he pulls a shoulder length veterinary glove over his prosthetic, and then gloves his left hand, “It’s a bitch to take apart and sanitize. I can if needs be, but best to avoid all of that. I cannot exactly autoclave this thing. And I find the calving glove less unwieldy than Saran Wrap-“  “Wait a sec, Saran Wrap? Like on a plate of leftovers?”  Ezra dimples at you.   “Exactly like that. First time Cee witnessed it, she laughed so hard i thought she might drop dead right there on the spot. Next morning there was a case-pack of calving gloves on our front stoop like some sort of-“  “It’s Amazon, Ez, not witchcraft,” says Cee, popping back through the curtain with a sheaf of papers, shoots you a knowing can you believe this guy look, “You’d be lost without me. Just admit it.” Ezra takes the papers from her.   “Go on now, don’t you have fanfic to read? What’s that Star Wars thing? Reylo?” Cee’s face scrunches in a cartoonish display of disgust.  “Man, I never should’ve told you about AO3.” And with that she’s gone.  “Your daughter’s really something.”  “She ain’t mine,” says Ezra, leafing through the stack of prints Cee handed him, draws a pair of reading glasses from his front pocket and perches them on his nose, “I don’t have that honor. Her parents kicked her from the nest and she found her way here.” He holds two of the prints in front of his face. “Show me your arm.” And you offer him your left arm, hand turned palm up. He cradles your arm, runs his gloved fingers over the thin skin there, noting the network of silvered scars, like contrails in a hazy sky, because how can he not? Old enough to be flattened and flush with the rest of your skin, no one’s noticed in years, but you know he must and you tense, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t, just selects a printed sheet at holds it up to you arm.  “This the orientation you want?”  “Yeah, I want him standing on my hand. Um, Ezra, the scars-“  “won’t be a problem, darlin, they’re old and soft-“  “I’m not gonna screw up your handiwork,” you say, and he folds your hand in both of his, gentle pressure that grounds you and when you look up at him, his eyes are soft.  “I know you won’t,” he says, “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.  We can rewrite this part of your story. I trust you.” 

 Ezra preps your skin, alcohol wipes and mild soap and he shaves your inner arm with a disposable razor, rubs some gooey stuff on you that makes you think of putting on aloe after a burn. Gotta let this dry a beat, he says, we want the stencil to come out nice and clean, rests his hand over yours while the transfer solution dries, got to let it get tacky, he says.  Not quite holding your hand but not letting go either.  “I should warn you, the bit over your inner wrist will likely be the most painful,” swipes his hand over your skin, testing the resistance against his glove, “Skin’s thin there. Not a whole lot of meat between the skin and all the veins and little fiddly bits.”  “Fiddly bits,” you echo, and feel yourself smile, “You mean the bones?”  “And tendons,” says Ezra, clips out the stencil.  “That looks like carbon paper,” you say, and Ezra grins, “It’s functionally the same, but Cee insists that the thermographic printer makes cleaner stencils than the old methods, so here we are.” He lays the sheet of paper over your arm, rubs at it with a balled up paper towel, “We want the transfer solution to soak into the paper. It’ll leave the stencil behind on your skin. There’s some tricks involving deodorant, but i find this method works the best-“ you can’t help but notice how pretty he is, face pinched in concentration, pout of his lips, those dark eyes focused on the strip of skin between your wrist and elbow like this bit of you is the only thing in the universe. “—hey! you still with me?”  “Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”  “You got a hotel room for tonight? It’s not by business, but i know you’re not local and getting tattooed blows a surprising amount of adrenaline-“  “I’ve got a  room booked,” you say, “Up over Peli’s.”  “Hope you brought earplugs,” says Ezra, “That place can get a bit rowdy on a Friday night.”   “I’m counting on it,” you say, “It’s been forever since I’ve gone to a bar.”  “Hmm,” he rubs at the transfer paper, “Do you feel your skin tightening a bit? We should be just about ready. I’m gonna click the gun on for a beat so you can hear it.”   “I’m not scared.”  “Didn’t say you were.” says Ezra, “I find this tends to go easier if people know what to expect. This buzz and my endless yap are going to be filling your ears for the next few hours-“  “It’s not bad. The tattoo machine, I mean.” And Ezra grins, slow curve that just hints at a dimple.   “My Ma always said my tongue is hung in the middle and wags at both ends. If, at any point in this venture, you need me to shut the fuck up do not be shy in saying so,” his face falls, eyes flick away a little, “There’s one more thing before we peel this stencil and get on to our business. I will need to stretch your skin, to make sure the lines are nice and clean, and for that i must rely on this foolish thing.” Ezra catches you around your wrist with his prosthetic hand and squeezes slightly.   “I do not have the sensitivity nor dexterity that i once had,” he says, “I have some haptic feedback, but it’s not the most reliable. If I grip or pinch too hard, you sing out and I will manually adjust the pressure.”  So focused on your left inner wrist and the tracery of your skin that he startles, flinches when you reach for him and grip his upper arm, brief squeeze and then gone.  “I trust you.” His eyes widen for a second, and flick away from yours.   ‘I suppose you do. Else you wouldn’t be here. Let’s get a good look at these lines before we get to fencin’.” Ezra peels the transfer paper up and you feel the pull of it, dark purple lines printed on your inner arm. And that makes it feel real.

You’re going to walk out of here with something like a story in your skin forever.   “The fireweed—“  “I know. The stencil lines are just there to keep me from going too loosey-goosey,” says Ezra, “That being said, how would you feel about some slight splatters? So the stems do not rise so harshly from the water bear’s back, perhaps a bit darker than the color of the fireweed. Something to really make this little fella pop.”  “Dark. Like a dark purple fading up into the pinks.”  “Yeah? What do you think?”  “I like it,” you say, and you feel yourself grin wide, and Ezra’s smile mirrors your own, “This is gonna be so fucking cool.”  “It will,” he says, those dark eyes bracketed in delighted crinkles, “I’ve got you, darlin. We’re gonna make some magic.”

 It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, and you tell Ezra so, and he smiles, bent over your arm.  “Everyone’s pain threshold is a bit different,” he says, “You are squirming very little for your first ink.”’   “I was in labor with my oldest for twenty three hours. This doesn’t even register.”  “The linework is usually worse in terms of sharp pain,” he says, “The color and shading tend to be more persistently annoying. Like a shirt collar rubbing on a sunburn.” He has a light on a swing arm like a dentist uses, framing him in a bright halo as he hunches over your arm, catches his curls in bright filaments, the scruff of his cheeks, slope of his neck, breadth of his shoulders. Sharper pain as he touches the crease between wrist and hand, bracelets of fortune, you think they’re called, draw your breath in a sharp hiss, little hooked curves of the tardigrade’s claws.  “Breathe, sugar, you’re doing just fine. Worst part’s nearly done.” His eyes flick up to catch yours, warm soft and magnified by his glasses. “And I really must know. what’s your favorite dinosaur?”  “Deinonychus,” you answer unthinking, “Dromeosaurs are pretty cool in general, but Deinonychus is my favorite.” And you smile. Knowing exactly what he’s doing and thankful for it. “The raptors in Jurassic Park were actually Deinonychuses. Modeled on them at least. Actual velociraptors are turkey-sized.” Ezra smiles up at you, perfect plump lower lip bisected by a gold ring, damn he’s pretty, and nothing hurts at all.  “Huh,” he says, “And here I was thinkin you were a T-rex girl. S’pose that’s what i get for making assumptions.”  “Well you know what they say about assuming—“  “Indeed I do. My mother was very fond of whipping out that particular turn of phrase.” He stretches your skin so he can get the tardigrade’s odd little mouthparts just so.  “What’s your favorite?”  “Favorite what?” The curved, segmented back takes shape.  “Dinosaur. You can’t just ask someone that question and not answer it yourself.” Ezra stills for a beat, and then the needle starts up again, line sloping down to meet up with a hook-plated foot.  “Ankylosaurus.” he says.  “Really?”  “Sure. Mother Nature took a cow, a snapping turtle and a panzer tank and stuck em in a blender and then tied a cinderblock to the end of it’s tail. What’s not to love? Hmmm,” he swabs at the beaded blood and oozing ink, “Hard part’s done. How about a little breather?” Ezra stands and stretches like a lazy cat, rolls his neck side to side, heads for the refrigerator, tucked in the corner and plastered in stickers, punk bands or microbreweries, you can’t really tell.   “Stretch your legs,” he says, “This next phase will take some time.” You swing your legs over the side of the chair, stand up and then plop back down.  “You okay, darlin?”   “Stood up too fast.”   “Apple or orange?”  “Huh? Orange,” You feel your face going hot, “I followed your instructions—“ Ezra hands you a cold, sweating bottle of orange juice.  “I know you did,” he says, “When you get tattooed, you are signing up for an injury. One that happens over the course of several hours, but an injury all the same.  Everyone reacts a little different. Your sugar just dropped is all. You drink that juice and you’ll be right as rain in no time at all.”  “I thought I’d be okay-“  “And you are,” says Ezra, “I’ve had three hundred pound bikers slither out of the chair at the first sight of blood. It happens sometimes. I’ve gotten woozy a time or two myself.”

He shoves up his shirtsleeve and shows you a dog in a space helmet,   “That’s Laika,” you say.  “Patron Saint of one way trips,” says Ezra, “You can see a bit of wobble in the curve of her helmet. It was far from my first ink and it still hurt like a sonofabitch. You didn’t do a thing wrong, okay?” He rests his hand on your shoulder briefly, warm weight of it grounds you, and he hunkers down so his eyes meet yours, no judgement there, just concern, and without thinking, you mirror him, rest a hand on his vibrantly inked bicep, Laika brave and doomed amid a swirl of watercolored nebulae, his skin warm beneath your palm and you feel the breath rush out of you, didn’t know how hard you were clenching your jaw, didn’t know you tight your chest was.  “Thank you.” And for a beat those lovely, dark eyes hold yours, before they slide away, cheek curved up in a half-smile.  “You are most welcome. Shall we proceed?”

 The color inking goes much as he described, more annoying than painful, like a constant pressing of fingernails against your skin, different gun with more needles packed together, ink laid in, blood wiped away, back and forth over the same bits of skin, needles dipped and rinsed, tiny plastic cups of color that make you think of a child’s paint set, and the two of you settle into easy conversation, a flow back and forth like a gentle tide, mostly Ezra explaining all the hidden delights of Secret Springs, you simply must get breakfast at Cisco’s, it don’t look like much but they’ve got the best biscuits and gravy i’ve ever tasted, and Cee swears by their Hangover Helper, it’s like a layer dip of grease. Hash browns and corned beef hash and scrambled eggs with sausage gravy and cheese sprinkled over it. I keep tellin Frankie he should rename it the Heart Attack Platter, but he won’t hear it— Ezra’s voice and the buzz of the tattoo gun and the rhythm of him pressing into your skin and wiping away the blood and excess ink set you drifting, content to listen to him ramble, like the patter of falling rain.  “So what got you here?” asks Ezra.  “Moira. I saw her ink and asked—“  “No, darlin, what got you here?” And you find it hard to speak, to put into words, did everything right, married and had kids and a house and a good job and a husband who loved you until he didn’t, did everything right and still ended up with an empty house and no one to come home to except the cat. Lilly and Liam and Joey off on their own and settled and they all call you on Sunday like clockwork, as if you are an obligation and not someone who held them when they were small, talked them through the fears of monsters in the closet, talked them through the humiliation of first love, you know they love you, they tell you every time, at the end of every visit, hug you so tight and tell you they love you. Love you too, but you still come home to a dark house and an empty bed, you honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve been touched or kissed or held. Been so long since you did things for you without thinking of him and the kids that it feels wrong, shameful.  “I wanted to do something just for me, I guess.” You frown.  “I’m guessing you are not in the habit,” he says, “Of doing things just for the joy of it.” You laugh, a bright and brittle sound that pulls itself from your throat, even as your eyes burn, his eyes flick up from the brilliant pinks and oranges and purples, and you turn your head away.  “I’ve prodded a raw nerve, I’m sorry. Cee rightly says I have no filter-“  “It’s okay. It’s just…you do everything right and you still end up all alone, you know? Lil and the boys are all doing fine. They call me every Sunday, and I know I should be happy, and I am happy. Happy for them-“  “But not for yourself,” says Ezra. And you think of how the intimacy slowly bled out of your marriage, held on so tight for so long, thought you could muscle through it like you do everything else in your life, but love wasn’t enough, determination wasn’t enough, gritted teeth and stubbornness weren’t enough.   “No. Not for myself.” You frown. You haven’t put it in words before, too busy keeping it together, trying to gut through it like you do everything, keep your head down and push through, “You think your life is one thing and then it just isn’t anymore— this probably seems silly to you.”  “Not at all. I often think of cicadas,” he says, and returns his attention to the fireweed blossoms.  “Cicadas?”  “Yes. They live the majority of their lives under the ground, feasting on roots content with living in the dark and then something calls them up above. They split themselves open, crawl out of their old skins and take flight.”  “You’re saying I’m in the process of crawling out of my own skin,” you say.  “I’m saying that your future doesn’t have to look like your past,” says Ezra.

 “The past is another country,” you say, and you can’t remember where you’ve heard the phrase.  “Just so,” says Ezra, “Just so. We’re redrawing the map right here. And it is a joy to redraw it with you.”  “Are you—are you flirting with me?” Ezra scrunches his face in mock disdain, “I would never ever flirt with a client. That would be deeply unethical and Cee would undoubtedly yell at me. However, once I finish inking this last frond and we slather you in ointment and wrap you up you will no longer be my client-“  “And then?” He smiles at you, all dark eyes and dimples.  “Well then we are just two folks enjoying the moonlight and wetting our toes in the surf. If you’d walk with me a spell. If you can further tolerate my rambling,”  “I think I’d like to get my feet wet.”

[archangeldyke-all]

Sev with a ver nerdy reader. Very loser vibes with glasses and all. Could you write about how they meet and get together? How their relationship would be and what would other think or do about such a contrast couple?? Xxx love youuuuu

aweee i fucking love this

men and minors dni

singed is a mad genius, you'd never deny that. but mad geniuses tend to get caught up in the whirlwind of their revolutionary thoughts and creations, and they leave behind important things like, you know, numbers. or studies. or a general respect for the scientific method.

so while singed spends his days tinkering in his lab, you spend your days sitting beside him, trying to decipher his discoveries into a language people who aren't mad geniuses can understand.

this is just to say: you're a glorified lab assistant.

you don't know how you caught sevika's eye. you're polar opposites.

sevika fights for a living, she can command a room with a single look, and she's got women swooning for her everywhere she goes. you scribble calculations in a basement for a living, sometimes you and singed are so focused that you don't even speak to each other for days at a time, and you're aware that your glasses, frumpy clothes, and lack of awareness when it comes to style don't exactly make you sexy.

but... somehow, you've enchanted her.

you first met a few months ago, when singed brought you along to a meeting with silco to have you help demonstrate a new varient of shimmer.

typically, singed takes these meetings alone. he likes to keep his science life and his shady dealings as separate as possible-- plus, he knows how nervous you get. but, the new variant required at least two pair of hands to properly prepare, and you were kind of hoping to meet silco's elusive kid-genius foster daughter. singed sings her praises on the daily.

jinx, unfortunately, didn't show up, but sevika did. and you nearly shat yourself, because the woman didn't take her sharp gaze off you for the entire demonstration.

afterwards, when you were packing up in the empty office as singed and silco chatted in the bar downstairs, sevika tracked you down. "hey."

you screamed as you turned around, dropping a vial of shimmer on the ground. she chuckled. "f-fuck sorry." she said, holding her hands up. "didn't mean to sneak up on you."

you pushed your glasses up your nose and just shrugged. "'s okay. i-i'm just jumpy." you whispered.

"you're cute." she'd said.

and then, because you've never been able to be normal about anything in your life, you passed out.

so, the start of your and sevika's relationship was a bit tumultuous. she had to spell it out for you, many times, that she finds you endlessly endearing and adorable.

"during that first meeting. singed read something off his notes but didn't understand, so you explained it to him. just you rambling a bunch of nerd shit, but you made it sound so simple, and you had this sweet sparkle in your eye-- i dunno." she shrugs, then pushes your glasses up your nose for you.

you guys actually balance each other out really well. sevika encourages you to have a bit more of a backbone, you help her see the softer side of things.

she's obsessed with your constant nerdy ramblings. she learns so much from you. she can point to anything and ask you about it, and you'll have an answer.

she'd also never admit it to anyone, but she loves your fantasy books. the nerdier and more complex the better. sometimes, she'll have you read whatever book you're reading outloud, and more times than not, she falls asleep within ten minutes to the sound of your voice.

she's constantly pushing your glasses back up your nose for you. if she notices a smudge, she'll gently take them off your face, clean them with the hem of her shirt, then push them back on your face.

she's obsessed with eating you out while you read or work. she likes to watch you struggle to maintain your focus-- which is usually so laser sharp.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) — pt. iv

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 4/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k Summary: Every villain has an origin story. This is yours. AUs: Older brother’s best friend; fuck buddies that hate each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV?; angst; very self-indulgent reference to Foresight (can you spot it? 👀); and — oh, hey! some of the other tannie boys are here. A/N: We love a flashback moment :') This takes place about a year prior to the first part, fyi. Major thanks to @ressjeon & @mimikookie for fireman carrying me out of a plot spiral 💕 ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

Jeon Jungkook was half-asleep with his face propped up a slack fist when you came through the front door of the book shop like a wrecking ball in a peacoat.

The chime of the bell above the door was no match for the way you sang out to him, and neither were his unsuspecting ears. He snapped to attention so suddenly that he knocked a pile of first editions clear off the counter. He didn’t even try to catch them as they hurtled towards the floor; they’d join the other casualties he’d dropped half an hour earlier. 

Namjoon could kill him for his carelessness later, if he was so inclined. Jungkook just hoped that Namjoon remembered he was helping for free — and not at all because losing a bet meant assisting his senior in preparing the soft-launch of his business. Forced altruism should result in him being cut a bit of slack, he’d decided.

“Guess what?”

The last word of your question was held like a whole note as you walked — skipped, rather — towards him. Your giddy smile was starkly contrasted by the muted, wool coat that fluttered limply as you moved. Eyeing the counter, now free of any obstacles, you hopped onto it and sat cross-legged. When Jungkook was too stunned by your sudden energy to respond, you raised your eyebrow expectantly. 

Hoseok’s head poked out from the back room. Unlike Jungkook, Hoseok was present and accounted for simply because he was a good person. He wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, “Did it finally happen?” 

Since you’d met him earlier that year, Hoseok had wholeheartedly subscribed to this new chapter of your love life. He’d gotten bored of your decidedly unremarkable ex-boyfriend from a few months back, and now eagerly awaited any updates that followed your break-up. You couldn’t blame him because you seemed to be hooked on the plot, too.

Jungkook was lost, but that was news to no one. Hoseok dropped the name of the unknown subject like a bomb, and now his ears were ringing. His eyes widened far enough that he feared they’d fall right out of his skull. 

Before you could answer Hoseok’s initial question, Jungkook interjected, “Park Jimin? You’re joking, right?”

Dumbstruck, he glanced between you and Hoseok, like blinking rapidly enough would make his brain process the information any faster. Like repeating himself will make what he said true — what Hoseok said impossible.

“This is a joke?” 

Jungkook’s expression might’ve looked firm, but his statement was far from declaratory. The unintentional, upwards inflection at the tail end of his sentence came across as judgmental as it was disbelieving. It sounded a lot like, Are you stupid?

You shrugged. Either you didn’t want to answer in earnest, or you didn’t know how to. 

And yes, Jungkook did think you were being an idiot. He wasn’t necessarily wrong for looking at you that way, nudging you back towards reality. But maybe he should’ve given you a five-minute head start before he swallowed your joy whole and shat it back out. So, he swallowed the rest of his words instead.

Hoseok emerged from the back and crossed over to you and Jungkook. Once he did, he flicked the side of the youngest’s skull with a painted — albeit chipped — fingernail. Jungkook accepted it, knowing he deserved it, and he only grunted a little bit in response.

“I’m always shocked not to hear an echo when I do that, Jungkookie.” Hoseok shot you a smirk, and then immediately stuck his tongue out at Jungkook, who was glowering at him. He pressed on, “If you utilized that brain to its full potential, you’d have learned a long time ago that the heart wants what it wants.”

Ah, there’s that hopelessly romantic enabler. It was no longer any wonder why you’d swung by the shop, which was a significant distance outside the bounds of your usual commute home from your office.

“I’m just saying —” Jungkook raised his hands defensively before swatting at Hoseok, who tugged playfully at Jungkook’s ear. 

The elder danced out of the younger's line of fire with a whoop. Jungkook rolled his eyes and swallowed the frustrated grumble building up in his throat.

“— That maybe getting involved with Seokjin-hyung’s best friend is a truly garbage-tier idea. Am I not allowed to point that out?”

You and Hoseok blinked back at him, then simultaneously, you both scoffed, “No.” 

Hoseok smiled and scratched at your shoulder in a silent show of support before returning to whatever task he’d been working on when you came in. Jungkook was left deflated where he sat. The two of you joining forces against him had popped him like a balloon. Poor baby, the voice in his head said, sounding a lot like you.

His tone softened, and his eyes crinkled into his best attempt at a smile. He caved, as usual. “Got a hot date tonight, then, noona?” 

In lieu of a verbal response, you nodded furiously, beaming. He reached up and squeezed your knee as it bounced excitedly within centimeters of his face. Then, without commenting further, he bent over to re-categorize the same novels he’d alphabetized four times already that morning. 

“You’re supposed to ask for details!” Hoseok’s voice called out from the other room. “Honestly, Jungkook-ah, you need to get better at having female friends!” 

With an arm full of books, Jungkook sank back down onto the wooden stool he’d previously occupied. Truly, he didn’t know why he expected anyone to ever let him live. 

“I’m asking for details,” He rolled his eyes and yelled over his shoulder. When he turned back around, you were trying not to giggle. “So, uh, how the hell did this come about?”

You leaned forward and landed a smack on his shoulder, which, for the record, Jungkook did not enjoy. He didn’t enjoy what he knew of Jimin’s reputation, either.

“Could you at least try to give him a chance?” You pleaded, hands clasped in front of you in prayer. “You don’t even know him, Jungkook.”

You were right. Jungkook had never actually interacted with Jimin directly, certainly didn’t have the history with him that you did, but he’d heard a lot about him. The information itself painted a bad enough picture, but it got worse when he considered his source. 

Sources, plural.

The backstory came to him through hook-ups of his that, unbeknownst to Jungkook at the outset, were rebounding off of Jimin’s rejection. Park was patient zero, Jungkook’s study had concluded, and for reasons still unknown to the younger man, Jimin left everyone in worse shape than he found them.

Don’t get him wrong, though. The unhealed part of Jungkook was at least a little grateful for the influx of needy, emotionally unavailable girls in his orbit. He was fine batting clean-up, so long as no one stuck around to call him oppa the next day.

The rest of him — the evolved part —  was wary, especially when it came to you. Jungkook was a few months’ younger than you and nowhere near the helicopter sibling that your actual brother was, but he still felt protective of you. Still feared what damage Jimin could do, intentionally or otherwise; and the way your brother would make it worse.

Jungkook pulled a face that said he wasn’t likely to buy whatever you attempted to sell him. Still, he did what good dongsaengs are supposed to do: kept his fucking mouth shut and listened. 

That clearly wasn’t your specialty, but hey, at least you were endearing.

“He’s sweet, Jungkookie,” you defended. “Honestly, I think my parents like him more than me and Seokjin combined.”

For a second, you smiled sheepishly. Then, you quieted for even longer. When you picked up again, your brows furrowed; and Jungkook could tell by the tone of your voice how deeply you had to dig to say any of the things you were. 

They came out heavy, dropped with a thud between you like all the obscure, antique shit he’d knocked over so far that day.

“I’ve always felt like a shadow around Seokjin, you know? Everyone looks right past me; they always have. Teachers did, friends did, our parents still do.” You looked down at the fingers that fidgeted in your lap. “Jimin’s never been like that. When he’s around, I know I’m not just cellophane.”

Jungkook was well-accustomed to the way you romanticized people, like they were figures of your life’s mythology and not simply assholes off the street. That was one of the things he admired most about you, and hoped to be a little better at himself. It’s also why he continued to bite his tongue when you said:

“I have a really good feeling about this one, Jungkook.”

There was no point in arguing with you when you looked like that, all starry-eyed and hopeful. So, Jungkook demurred, “At least tell me he’s taking you somewhere nice. If you say you’re going to that dumpster bar —”

Hoseok unhelpfully interjected, “Oh, Yang Daehyun’s place? I think that’s where Yoongi-hyung met —”

“I will barf right on this counter,” Jungkook finished, punctuating his warning by rapping his knuckles against the wood below.

Jimin was pacing. 

He stopped knowing what to do with his hands a few hundred steps ago, so he gave up and shoved them into the back pockets of his jeans. As he circled, he shot Taehyung a panicked look that went nowhere fast. Whatever Webtoon he was reading was, apparently, far more important than his friend’s mental health and well-being.

Even without a captive audience, Jimin couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been on a thousand dates —” 

Taehyung interjected with a roll of his eyes, “That’s an egregious mischaracterization.” 

Jimin pulled one hand out of his pocket and held it up, silently begging his friend to save the slut-shaming for later. Though the tone of his voice indicated that he was getting there, Taehyung still wasn’t annoyed enough to pull his eyes off the screen of his phone. He missed Jimin’s plea entirely, stayed unbothered.

Still pacing, Jimin rambled, “And I’ve never gotten nervous. I’ve had to make speeches at massive conferences —”

For the first time, Taehyung glanced up over the top of his phone. A shit-eating grin tugged at his mouth. With a flexed eyebrow, his words nudged Jimin right in the ribs. “Remind me again how wearing a suit and getting day-drunk in a hotel ballroom is a conference?” 

Jimin’s raised hand folded so that his middle finger was on full display. He didn’t stop his movements, though, insistent on soliloquizing despite the interruption: “— and none of that shit has ever bothered me, but now my fucking palms are sweating, and I don’t know how to —”

With a put-upon sigh, Taehyung poured himself from the couch to his feet and stood directly in Jimin’s well-worn path. Assuming his typecast role as obstacle, he gripped Jimin’s shoulders and — without any resistance, whatsoever — backed his friend towards the couch. 

“You’re giving me anxiety,” He scolded, earning a disgruntled sigh from Jimin as he forced him to sit. “You wanted my attention; now, you have it. Just — give the pedometer a fucking rest, and listen, alright?”

It was microscopic, but Jimin’s nod in response was enough of a green light for Taehyung. The former knew the latter was no good at pep talks, and yet, there they both were. Taehyung had to wonder if it was too early for a stiff drink.

“Mechanically, it’s simple. You’ve done the hard part in asking this girl out,” Taehyung conceded calmly. Then, he cracked wide open; he couldn’t help it. He snorted, “Which — I’m sorry —  is still wild to me. I didn’t even know you knew how to do that, for real. Did you get body-snatched or something? Who the fuck are you?”

He almost dodged the hand that flew out to smack him.

“Jesus — okay! Don’t blame me for leaving Monogamous Jimin off my bingo card.” Taehyung threw his hands up, signaling a ceasefire. “Just go, buy her dinner, and make googly eyes at her. This is not a crisis.” 

This gave Jimin pause. His brows furrowed as he chewed his cheek, working to digest Taehyung’s words. With an uncharacteristically small voice, he eventually asked, “What if she doesn’t like the food?”

This was the straw that broke Taehyung’s back. He had to pause for a moment, talk himself out of walking out that fucking door and never coming back. Sure, it was his apartment, but that was irrelevant. If Jimin was intent on being this much of a baby, he could keep it.

“Would this girl have suggested the restaurant if she didn’t?” Taheyung challenged. 

He crossed his arms indignantly, waiting on an answer he knew — on some level —  he’d never get. Jimin shrunk more with every second that passed in silence.

“Would she have agreed to go anywhere with you if she didn’t want to?” Then, with a smirk, Taehyung amended, “Well, maybe she wouldn’t have if she knew you were going to spiral like this.” 

“I’m not spiraling,” Jimin countered meekly. Then, he thought better of it. There was no other way to describe it, and he knew it, as much as he hated it whenever Taehyung proved himself right. “Okay, fine. I’m mildly unzipped, but I walked into a minefield on purpose, so… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, but his eyebrow raised quizzically. 

It was, frankly, impossible to try and keep up with Jimin’s calendar of dick appointments. While Jimin didn’t make it a point to kiss and tell, he didn’t keep secrets, either — not from Taehyung, at least. He normally folded like laundry when pressed. 

This time, for whatever reason, he’d kept his mouth shut. It was the most tight-lipped Taehyung had ever seen him be, and that hint was the closest thing to a reveal he’d gotten so far. Which, for the record, was a terrible sign.

A sign of the apocalypse, as far as Taehyung could guess.

Jimin whined and slapped his hands over his face. As he dragged them upwards, he pushed his hair back, paused with his fingers still tangled in his strands. His elbows dug into his thighs while he stared absently at the rug, as if he was waiting for it to swallow him whole.

Oh, so, this is bad bad, huh?

“This is not a thing I want to fuck up. I can’t fuck this up,” he admitted, more to himself than Taehyung. Another beat. “And I know I’m going to. Honestly, I think I already have.”

Jimin looked so beaten down that Taehyung could feel it in his own bones. Lead-laced quiet settled on his shoulders, forced him to drop onto the cushion next to Jimin, whose unblinking stare still stuck to the floor. 

And they stayed that way, neither one of them moving, until Jimin dragged his hands back down from his hair. Rubbing harshly at his face, he did the best he could to physically scrub that nagging, needling feeling off his skin. 

“Is there any good way to tell Seokjin that I asked out his sister?”

Oh, fuck.

Taehyung swallowed hard. “Doubt it. Maybe pick out a burial plot first?”

You’d tried on four different versions of the same outfit and wondered how you’d acquired so many fucking turtlenecks. 

After too much time deliberating, you opted for outfit number five — one of four (4) black sweaters hanging in your closet — and tucked the hem into your high-waisted skirt. As you snaked a belt around your waist, you assessed yourself in the mirror, frowning at your hair. 

Of the two hours you’d spent getting ready, half that time was spent toiling over the state of it. Over and over, you asked yourself: down and limp, or up and messy? Neither option was good enough, but the face of your watch whispered that you were running out of time.

In fact, it screamed that you should’ve taken the time to wash your hair earlier, instead of relying on half a can of dry shampoo to carry you through yet another day.

You heaved a sigh and stepped even closer to the mirror to check for any lingering imperfections. The pimple on your chin was, thankfully, invisible under the layers of concealer you’d applied. The tinted lip balm had stayed where it was supposed to, too, which was a miracle, given the number of nervous sips you’d taken from your nearby wine glass.

Unfortunately, your hair was doing a lot of things, and none of them were good. 

You grimaced.

If this was as good as it was going to get, why couldn’t it be just a little bit better?

You glanced down at your watch again and saw that it was 6:45 PM. 

Shit. 

During your sprint to your front door, you made sure to thank yourself for telling Jimin you’d meet him at the restaurant; one of few responsible choices you’d deigned to make lately. If you’d agreed to be picked up as he originally offered, he’d have been sitting in his car outside, dying of boredom and regret, while you turned your closet inside out. 

Black tights caused you to slide across the hardwood when you neared your front entrance. By sheer force of will alone, you stayed standing, every muscle in your body tensing. Huffing out a relieved breath, you wasted no time in choosing between near-identical pairs of Chelsea boots — seriously, why are you like this? — before shoving your feet into them and grabbing your coat from the hook near the door. 

With force, you snaked your arms into the holes, jerked the front door open, and stepped face-first into a cold so cruel, it bit your cheeks without mercy.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed, hands already frigid and aching as you struggled to lock the door behind you. 

Winters in the city were mild, more often than not; but this cold snap was making you snap, and part of you regretted agreeing to leave the house in the first place. Was anybody worth braving this frozen hellscape?

Don’t do that, you admonished yourself. Don’t act like you don’t want this.

The tears forming in your wind-whipped eyes would soon be the least of your worries, thanks to the boot heel that failed to find purchase on the slick surface of your driveway. Instead of your stinging cheeks, it was your tailbone that demanded immediate attention, having taken the full impact of your fall.

You yelped, more so out of surprise than pain, “Motherfucker.” 

Colder than before and with a wet spot soaking through the fabric of your skirt, you rubbed gingerly at your aching ass and scrambled to your feet.

It certainly didn’t help, but it didn’t hurt, either: You growled at the ground, “Get absolutely fucking fucked,” as if it might animate and apologize to you.

The scowl didn’t leave your face as you penguin-walked carefully to your car, ripped the driver’s side door open, and dumped yourself unceremoniously behind the wheel. The weight of your body against the seat only meant that the chilly dampness of your outfit intensified. Worse, you had the sneaking suspicion that your clumsiness had caused the back of your tights to run.

Caving to self-indulgence, you threw your head back against the seat and permitted yourself one (1) petulant, childish whine before re-committing to acting your age.

“Motherfucker!”

The drive wasn’t as treacherous as your walk to the car had been, though the city’s recent rainy spell left enough ice in its wake to keep those far smarter than you off the roads. To your surprise, the streets were clear once you made it downtown, with very few people meandering the sidewalks. It all felt ominous, parking in a ghost town, but you ignored that apprehension long enough to score a metered spot directly outside the restaurant. 

Maybe the universe is making it up to me, you thought as you slipped out of your seatbelt, out the door, and off the street. Maybe good things do happen to mediocre people.

Stepping inside the restaurant, the warmth enveloped you so sweetly, you nearly moaned. The fireplace crackling off to the side was meant to create ambiance, but it nudged the primal part of your brain that yearned to curl up in front of it. Shaking your head to clear those feral thoughts, your narrowed eyes scanned the room for any sign of Jimin.

It didn’t strike you as odd when you didn’t spot him. Jimin was a lot of things, but punctual had never — ever — been one of them. You couldn’t have reasonably expected to find him, anyways, not at your usual, early arrival.

After being informed of your party of two, the host led you to a small bistro table in the far corner. They bowed before leaving you to your own devices, giving you the space to fuss blindly with your appearance before Jimin would eventually walk in. No matter how many times you smoothed your fingers over your flyaways, you still felt their abject refusal to play along.

He’s seen you with braces, you reminded yourself. He was there for your tragic, dresses-over-jeans phase in the mid-aughts. He knows what your yearbook photos looked like, and he still wants to take you out.

You turned ever so slightly toward the door and crossed one leg over the other. Then, you placed one elbow on the white tablecloth, rested that hand delicately in the space below your jaw. It was your best approximation of desirable nonchalance, and you were sure you either looked ridiculous or extremely chic. Internally, you crossed your fingers and prayed it was the latter.

Jimin made plans with one Kim and wound up burdened by the other.

Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t a problem when Seokjin showed up on Jimin’s doorstep without warning, or let himself inside. It wasn’t uncommon for Jimin to come home from somewhere and find Seokjin already there, sitting on his couch and shouting at the television. Jimin’s life had always looked like that, for as long as he could remember. Like being an only child didn’t mean he lacked a brother.

That thought made nausea swirl in his stomach as he glanced between his watch, his couch, and the person lounging on it.

For once, Jimin was committed to being where he needed to at the time he was supposed to. A part of that promise was based on the fact that he was too eager to wait; but the majority of his dedication ran deeper than that. He was dead-set on proving to you that he could honor plans — that, when it came to you, he was a person that would show up.

And then your brother’s car blocked him in his driveway and kept him from leaving an hour early, like he’d told himself he would. Just in case.

Trapped, Jimin told himself he still had time. He could still beat you to the restaurant, still be there to pull out your chair the way your father always did for your mother.

Jimin knew that, outwardly, you always rolled your eyes at gestures like that — what’s the implication, that I can’t do it myself? — but he registered the way fondness twitched at the corner of your mouth. He caught all of those micro-expressions, studied them quietly from the other side of your family’s dining room table for — shit, two decades?

You never caught him staring, though, not once.

He suspected that you’d gotten used to being overlooked. Maybe, he figured, you stopped bothering to check if anyone glanced your way in the rare moments where you piped up. Jimin stayed quiet, for the most part, because the older boy sitting next to him picked up the slack your parents had dropped when they dropped you. 

Seokjin saw everything, was everything — to everyone. Jimin owed him more than anyone else for the way he dragged Jimin through school by the scruff of his neck. Seokjin’s nagging forced Jimin to buckle down and graduate, and once he did, Seokjin kept pushing. He hooked Jimin up with a job at his consulting firm, kept his toes in line long enough for Jimin to grow the fuck up.

Shit. 

Would he have gotten anywhere in life without your brother?

Your brother spoke for the first time in a minute, and the sudden addition of his voice made Jimin stop fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.

“You look nice,” Seokjin said, having finally, actually perceived his friend on the other side of the living room.

He sounded surprised to find Jimin there — or maybe, he was just surprised to see him dressed up for once. Suspicion caused his eyes to narrow, but it was peak shithead behavior that made him smirk. “Big plans tonight, Jiminie?”

Jimin was this close to throwing up all over his lap. He clamped his jaw shut, offering a nod instead of a verbal response.

He needed to spit it out. He needed to rip the bandage off and deal with the situation on the front end because he knew how fucked it would be to try to fix it in the aftermath. If he could float the idea now — ease Seokin into it, give him fair warning — then they’d likely be fine, right?

Jimin picked at his cuticles. He was unable to stop himself, even when he remembered you — years ago, after elbowing him in the ribs — telling him it was a bad habit. His heart did a stupid little somersault at the memory, though his anxiety squeezed his lungs with a lot more force. He swallowed, throat gravelly.

“Yeah, actually.”

It surprised him when the words slipped out, so much so that he blinked in stunned silence for a beat.

Seokjin capitalized on the quiet without knowing what he’d derailed. He scoffed, “I hope they’re not with Chan’s sister. From what I heard, you’re lucky he didn’t make you swallow your teeth.”

Oh.

“What exactly did you hear?” 

Jimin did his best to keep the anger out of his tone, but he wasn’t confident that he succeeded. What he was, was sick of that goddamn narrative. It spilled over each sphere of his life, and the stain it left was ugly, even if it wasn’t deserved. Still, he maintained that a person doesn’t need to be a saint to be a decent human being. 

Didn’t that count for anything?

Every single person he’d ever fucked around with was a placeholder; and every single one of them was told, right out of the gate, that nothing was coming out of whatever it was they did together. He made his position clear from the beginning — every time — and he didn’t let a single person get closer to him until they confirmed that they had no expectations. 

Didn’t grab drinks, didn’t share meals, didn’t spare a touch unless they knew what they were signing up for: A dead-end, ultimately, but a nice trip.

They all said they understood, but they never actually did. Hurt their own feelings by exaggerating their place in his life, cried and talked shit about him when he tried to remind them where they stood. He wasn’t responsible for their reaction; he was transparent. Cellophane. 

Reality notwithstanding, everyone looked at Jimin like he was intentionally leaving a trail of casualties behind him. And, really, what was he supposed to do about it, if he’d only ever been honest? 

If he didn’t find somewhere to be — someone to be with — his twenties would look just like his teens: him, holed up in his room alone; him, with his fingers itching to call you up; him, chickening out the second he felt brave enough to pick up the phone.

He reached the big age of twenty-seven before he stopped running away from you.

Seokjin said it lightly and with a smirk, but it hit Jimin square in the chest. “I heard that you’re a menace.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up unannounced on Jungkook’s doorstep. In fact, you’d done it so many times, you’d both lost count. 

When he answered the door all those times before, you never looked like you did now — like you’d spent half an hour crying in your car but were pretending you hadn’t. He immediately clocked the way your mascara had clumped ever so slightly on your bottom lashes, but he followed your lead and pretended he hadn’t. Instead, he ushered you inside while the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown.

You expected to find Hoseok on his couch, and you were faintly disappointed when his usual spot was empty. 

Oh, you remembered, it’s only 8:00.

Every Friday night was movie night for the three of you, but it never started until Hoseok’s studio hours ended at 9:30. Part of you was relieved to have beaten him here, though you felt guilty about it. He may have been more excited about your budding relationship with Jimin than you were, and you knew you couldn’t handle the disappointed look he’d try and fail to hide.

You could, however, handle whatever “I told you so” Jungkook was likely to hit you with.

You let Jungkook guide you into the corner of the sectional that you normally occupied on nights like this. Well, on the nights you didn’t have plans — or, more specifically, the ones where your plans actually came to fruition. 

Slumping dejectedly into the plush cushions, you tugged at the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. The heavy fabric hit your lap with a muffled thump, but within seconds, it was draped over the back half of your head and both your shoulders.

Jungkook blinked at you as if he was trying not to laugh. “You — uh,” He missed his objective by a mile and snorted slightly, “You look like a little wizard with the —” He gestured over at you, and when he couldn’t recall the final word of his joke, he began snapping his fingers. “The — umm —”

“Cloak,” You mumbled with a sniff.

He snapped his fingers one last time, then brandished a single finger-gun at you. “That’s the one.” 

You wanted to give him the laugh he’d earned, but you felt too crushed to be light-hearted. The amused twinkle in his eyes disappeared, and instead, they creased with concern. His voice was gentle, careful.

“Didn’t go as well as you hoped, huh?”

“It didn’t go at all,” You wiped roughly at your cheek with the back of your blanket-coated hand, but it was no use. You’d been caught red-eyed and red-handed.

“He didn’t show. I waited an hour, but then the host said he needed the table. All those people watched me wait there, alone — only to get up, alone — because people with actual dates had to sit down. Don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking humiliated in my life.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched so tightly, you could see the emerging vein twinge in his neck. He was wracking his brain for something soft to say to you, you knew, but all he could come up with was:

“Give me his address. He and I need to have a chat.”

You sniffled again and shook your head; he pressed further. “Seriously, I’m going to knock him on his ass. What the fuck is wrong with this kid?”

“Jungkook,” you started, though he cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t Jungkook me. That’s bullshit, and you didn’t deserve it.” He snapped. When your eyes widened at his terseness, he gave your knee an affectionate squeeze and sighed, “I’m sorry. I just —” 

The more he mulled it over, the angrier he got. His tone switched mid-sentence. 

“— He didn’t even call?”

You shook your head before dropping it to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder. Quietly, you admitted, “Left me on read when I started asking what was happening. Screened my calls, too, I think.”

Thankfully, you were only aware of how pathetic you sounded; you didn’t have to see how pathetic you looked. You could see Jungkook, though, out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t spend much time around Seokjin, but the identical way anger made their eyes go dark was uncanny.

“I’m choosing violence, I swear to God,” he said through gritted teeth. 

You offered, “The unhealed part of me left a pretty cruel voicemail, if that does anything for you.”

His eyes flicked over to the corner, where he’d dumped his gear after his recreational team’s hockey game earlier that week. He joined in the first place to let off steam, he’d told you, but it clearly wasn’t enough. His anger rolled off of him in waves, warmed you next to him from the outside in.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly. “Violence isn’t the answer, Jungkook. What do you want me to do, take that stick and beat him with it until he apologizes?”

He didn’t answer, and that didn’t sit well with you. You were about to call him out on his alarming behavior, but he shook off whatever took hold of him, and looked back at you. Noting the way his jaw still clenched, you nudged him with your elbow until his posture relaxed; and he rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

The two of you sat like that, silently, for several minutes before his grand plan came to him so suddenly that he jolted. The unexpected movement caused your heart to skip, caused his hand squeeze yours excitedly. 

“You know what’ll hurt more than a hockey stick?”

You scoffed, confident that you’d guessed where his train of thought had sped off to, “Chaining him to the back of your motorcycle and driving off into the sunset?”

For a brief second, you saw Jungkook’s eyes light up. To your surprise, he didn’t stop to consider your absurd proposal, instead flying right past it.

“The only thing I can think of that hurts more than being stood up, is getting strung along.”

His explanation came at a frantic pace, but you visibly struggled to keep up with his genius. He patted the back of your hand eagerly, as if to say, check this shit out. 

“How many times have you complained to me that the dudes you fuck don’t give a shit about you? That everything’s always about sex, and it makes you feel like garbage?”

Jesus Christ.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “When you said you were choosing violence, I didn’t think you meant me.”

Jungkook breezed past you with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Revenge is best served cold, right? So, be cold.”

You looked pointedly at him, sharp enough to stab him, but he beat you to the punch: “I know, it’s straight from Jeon Jungkook’s asshole playbook. I know. It’s an objectively, unquestionably horrible thing to do to someone, but nothing gets someone’s attention like ignoring them completely.”

Clearly, he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted from you. He shifted away from your side to sit up on his knees, facing you. From there, he gestured wildly with his hands, as if additional emphasis was what you needed to buy in. 

“You can get his attention, have him trailing after you like a stray dog, and then you can slam the door in his face.” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, beyond pleased with himself. “Ouch.”

You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip as you processed Jungkook’s master plan. It was diabolical and, more importantly, the complete antithesis of how you’d decided to move through the world. 

Your heart was always pinned to the cuff of your sleeve because you chose to put it there, to let people in, let them see you. For as long as you’d known Jimin, you wanted to let him in. Wrote it in your fucking diary as a kid, praying that neon, gel ink could manifest it. Wasted wishes on it every year when you blew out your birthday candles, while he was off in the next room with Seokjin. Hoped that, eventually — someday —  he’d see you looking up at him.

And then it happened.

Everything you wanted fell right where you could reach it. Your casual texts back and forth turned into late night phone calls. In turn, those turned to video chats, into plans. Then, he asked you to dinner, and you gushed to all your friends that he was nothing like what they’d heard about him.

How fucking stupid you must have sounded.

The anger churned in your stomach like acid, and it threatened to burn a hole right through you. 

Jungkook was right. 

You’d always been committed to being whole-hearted, and it was exhausting to keep gluing yourself back together every time you broke. So, if someone was going to fall to pieces this time, it wasn’t going to be you.

“You have to be careful, though. If you get in too deep, you’ll just end up hurting yourself.”

Jungkook’s voice crashed through the maelstrom in your mind, startling you.

He continued his warning, “You cannot catch feelings while executing this kind of operation — trust me.”

“And how do I go about avoiding that?” You asked.

“You have to have rules.”

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[mykneeshurt]

so I don't know if you would feel comfortable doing this but could you do the 141 and Alejandro Rudy

So you and them got invited out to go to the bar with the rest of the boys, but before you'll get there you were having measure insecurity problems. but you go anyway because you want to spend time with the guys. You goes to the restroom/bar to get something drink/etc. and when you come back, you see someone flirting with them. so when you pulled them away from that person who was flirting with them said something nasty about you as you guys walk away from the situation walk and it makes you feel worse so how would they comfort you when you get home

I don't know if that makes sense I'm not good writing out that type of stuff but I hope it's good but yeah I hope it's good

Of course! Some fluff and comfort coming up ❤️✨ gender neutral reader

Warnings - low self-esteem, low self-confidence, self-critical reader - I wrote this last night and I didn’t save it ffs

Walking back out of the toilet you saw a young woman, maybe no more than 25 draped over Ghosts shoulder. Flirting relentlessly with any of the boys she could get the attention of. Feeling annoyed you walked over and pulled her off ‘ever heard of personal space?’ You narrowed your eyes, eyebrows furrowed as you shot her a warning glare.

As she met your gaze she rolled her eyes, ‘and who are you?’ She scoffed, clearly thinking a lot about herself. ‘I’m their friend and you’re making quite the spectacle of yourself. Maybe you should have a water.’ She sneered in your direction, judging everything about you. ‘At least I am a spectacle, not some boring lookin’, ugly cretin’ she laughed. Ouch.

Ghost moved her away ‘I don’t think so love, you don’t speak to them like that.’ She rolled her eyes and walked off, to find someone else to annoy. The familiar sting in your chest began to rise, tears hung just under your irises threatening to fall. That critical voice found its feet again, chipping away at your self-confidence.

Needing some fresh air you left the pub, sitting on a near by bench you picked at your thumbs. The voice shouting at you from inside. You were in your own world until a familiar shadow shat next to you on the bench. ‘You ok?’ Soap asked, his soft gentle eyes studied your face, the smile you’d been wearing all evening now lost. You shrugged not wanting to talk. He draped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, ‘don’t listen to her hen, she’s some drunk tit who wanted to make you feel bad, so she could feel good. Ain’t nothing wrong with you.’ He pressed a tender kiss to your temple whilst he rubbed your shoulder.

Wondering where you were Gaz and Rudy came to check on you. Gaz sat on the side side of you as Rudy knelt by your knees. ‘What happened? Saw you leave’ Gaz asked, his voice laced with concern. ‘That woman who was all over Ghost said some horrible shit’ Soap spat, clearly pissed off at how she had made you feel. ‘Oh babe! Take no notice of her, she doesn’t know you. Not like us, and we think you’re pretty incredible’ Gaz said placing his arm on yours. Rudy placed his hands on your knees trying to offer some comfort. ‘The only person who’s important is you. They’re irrelevant to you, they don’t matter. You do.’

You smiled at him, your sad eyes still fighting to hold in the tears. ‘I’m gonna head back’ you said with a sniffle. ‘We’ll come with you.’

Walking back to base Price noticed the change in your demeanour he hurried up to you. ‘Everything ok kid? You ran outta there earlier.’ You sighed and nodded, ‘naw I know you’re lying kid. You upset about what that woman said?’ Nodding again your averted your gaze from his, not wanting him to see how upset you really were. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder ‘oh love, she was talking shit. You’re one of us, family. Nothing anyone says will change that. We love you for who you are.’

You tried to accept what he was saying but you couldn’t. That little voice inside your head still telling you she was right and that you were worthless.

Back at base you went to make a hot drink. Something to distract you from your mind. Hearing a shuffle behind you, you turned and saw Alejandro standing in the doorway. Just seeing him stood there made you burst out crying, the damn of sadness finally breaking. Alejandro pulled you into a tight hug, the feeling of his warm embrace made you cry even more. You felt safe, warm, like you could finally let the catharsis happen. Heavy tears fell onto his jumper as he ran his hand over your head, trying to sooth you. ‘I’m sorry’ you sniffed.

Alejandro pulled away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. ‘You don’t owe that woman the time of day. She doesn’t know you like we do. That little voice in your head is a lair. You know what we do with liars?’ You shook your head, confused. ‘We kill em!’ You allowed yourself to laugh at this, a real belly laugh. Hearing you chuckle was music to Alejandro’s ears. ‘Thank you’ you smiled, hugging him once more.

As you got back to your room you noticed Ghost stood outside. ‘Hi’ you whispered. Ghost stood there studying your face which was still wet from tears. ‘Mind if I come in?’ Sighing you opened the door and let him in. Walking into the room you sat yourself down on your bed, clutching at your hot drink. ‘Struggling with that voice again?’ Ghost asked as he rested against your desk. ‘Yeah, I just … I don’t know how to deal with it. What that woman said really hurt me.’

Ghost nodded, understanding what you meant. ‘When people pull you down like that it’s cause they’re full of shit and hurting themselves. They bring you down because that’s all they know how to do. They wanna make themselves feel better. You don’t owe them anything.’ You sat taking in what he was saying. You knew he was right, her opinion of you wasn’t important, she didn’t matter. ‘You gonna be ok?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, I think so’ you smiled up at him.

[clumsy-jiminie]

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏᴅᴇꜱ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

◦ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ :: mafia!jeongguk x mafia!female reader

◦ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ :: 18+

◦ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ :: mature content, angst, smut, mafia!au

◦ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ :: 11.1k

◦ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ :: mc is a mouthy brat and jk knows exactly how to handle it, smut - slight choking, fingering, public sex, spanking ( minimal ), taunting and dirty talk, orgasm denial, slight degradation ( use of the term slut ), big dick!jeongguk, use of honorifics, unprotected sex, flirting in public, light violence, use of petname - baby

◦ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ :: not the past three chapters having some form of smut in it... I honestly love this chapter. when I wrote the first version of it, I used to reread it so often. if I ever had a man talk to me like that 😮‍💨 btw anyone remember when I used to write 2k chapters? HA. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy 💖

↠ ɴᴇxᴛ :: ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ :: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ↞

This was the first time almost everyone was in the same place together. You tend to miss breakfast, not wanting to deal with Taehyung while you just woke up. It was a rare occurrence to experience. Hoseok was sprawled out on the couch in front of you, doing whatever pleases him on his phone. Jimin was sitting next to you. He was also on his phone, where you could see him scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. One of the few instances where you would miss having your phone. You wondered if it was locked in some drawer somewhere or if they even had it. That night already seemed so long ago. Jeongguk was to the other side of you before he decided to get up and head to the kitchen. And Seokjin was… Well, he was with Solar. Sat in one of the chairs directly across from the TV, Solar was happily placed in Seokjin’s lap, giggling away as he whispered filthy nothings into her ear. You stared down at your thumbs, absentmindedly playing with your shirt. It seemed as if no one else noticed these very public displays of affection. You didn’t understand how with the obnoxious sound of lips smacking against each other every other moment.

Jeongguk then let out a loud groan before the sound of the fridge door slamming followed. “Hyung…,” he whined like a child, causing you to glance at him. He slumped against the fridge with his eyebrows squished together, and his bottom lip jutted into a pout. A smile teased your lips before glancing over at Seokjin for his response. He paid the younger no mind. All his attention was on Solar as his fingertips played with the hem of her very short shorts. Jeongguk’s eyebrows now lowered, watching as Seokjin blatantly ignored him. “Jin!” He yelled, finally getting his attention.

An annoyed groan parted from Seokjin’s throat as he looked back at the other. “What?!”

“When are you going to go grocery shopping?” He asked as he stood up and walked back to the living room. “We need some food!”

Seokjin practically waved Jeongguk off by pulling Solar closer to him. “I’ll order something in a minute,” he said before kissing Solar’s neck.

“Ugh,” the man next to you groaned while leaning his head back on the couch cushion. You directed your attention to Jimin, whose eyes met yours. He scrunched his nose with disgust. “I’m so sick of eating out.”

It’s been a week since Solar has been here. Which also meant a week of you sneaking out of your own room to Jeongguk’s to escape the sounds of lovemaking late at night. You swore those two fucked more than bunnies. But it wasn’t only you that was affected. Hoseok has been sleeping on the couch for the past week as well. The first time you saw him down here, you almost shat yourself because he was only an odd lump lying on the couch. When he suddenly shifted you got startled and reacted like any sane person would — grabbing the closest object and throwing it at him. He groaned as one of the men’s heavy shoes hit him in the forehead, cursing your name. After that, you stopped going downstairs in the middle of the night for some water. And the last change due to Solar’s stay was ordering takeout for every meal. Seokjin was too caught up in his girlfriend’s presence to cook. In fact, every time he tried, he would get turned on by something Solar did and forget he was cooking, to begin with. When he almost caught the house on fire, Seokjin decided to skip the middleman and place an order. You didn't have a problem with Seokjin ordering out. You were always guaranteed a meal this way and didn’t have to fight anyone at the table. You were a foodie, so you enjoyed anything that made your tastebuds dance. But it seemed that your fellow inhabitants didn’t feel the same way.

“Right?” Jeongguk agreed as he plopped down next to you. “Everything tastes the same now. When are you gonna make us something?”

“It can’t be tonight, JeonJeon,” Solar cooed. Everyone pressed their lips together to hold back the giggle that desperately wanted to escape at his nickname. It prompted a glare from JeonJeon himself. “Jinniebear has a hot date tonight.”

Does this girl have a thing for cheesy nicknames?

You mouthed the name silently, eyebrows furrowing together as you wondered about the backstory that came with it.

“He sure does,” Seokjin boasted.

“Barf,” Hoseok suddenly said, repulsion spreading across his features. “Get a fucking room.”

Your eyes grew wide as you stared at the wavy-haired brunette. You’ve never seen Hoseok make such a face — eyebrows furrowed together and lips turned downward in a frown. And the fact that he cursed? Hoseok was full of surprises.

He glared at Seokjin boldly. “You have half of mine, so why don’t you use it?” He shifted his position to sit up straight. “You obviously don't have a problem doing so, despite me being in the fucking room.”

Seems like one too many nights on the couch turned sunshine into storm clouds.

“Oooh,” Jimin mused with a smirk, “looks like someone made Hobi mad.” You snickered to yourself, shaking your head. He’s such an instigator.

Seokjin returned the glare. “Watch it,” he warned through a clenched jaw, hand placed on Solar’s hip securely. “Don’t be jealous because you don’t have a beautiful lady with you every night.”

Hoseok stared at the man, the reason for his anger going right over the other’s head. He let out a scoff, shaking his head from side to side. “Oh, believe me,” he said as he stood up, “I’m far from jealous.” With that, he headed upstairs, leaving the awkward tension he created in the room.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat before Jeongguk perked up. “So,” he drawled out, trying to cut the tension with a dull knife. “Dinner?” He turned his head to Seokjin. His main problem of the night was still unsolved.

Seokjin looked utterly annoyed, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looked at his younger. “I’m not cooking shit, so figure it out.”

“I’ll make something,” you said faintly as you glanced at Jeongguk. You watched his eyes flicker with excitement.

“No,” Seokjin deadpanned.

“What?!” You directed your attention to Seokjin, who was now glaring at you. As you opened your mouth to respond, the front door swung open.

Everyone looked towards the door as Namjoon and Taehyung walked in. Normally you would’ve looked away the second you realized who it was, but their appearance had a hold on you. They were both a mess with roughed-up hair and disheveled clothing. Taehyung looked the worst, having what looked like blood splattered on the left portion of his white button-down shirt. The blood traveled up his neck, and there was residue where it was wiped away on his cheek. He didn’t bother saying hello, muttering something to himself as he made his way up the stairs. No one questioned it.

“Hello everyone,” Namjoon said as he loosened the black tie around his neck. “What’s for dinner?”

“Jin isn’t making dinner because he has some hot date,” Jeongguk answered, putting air quotes around the last two words.

A smile teased at Namjoon’s lips as Solar gasped loudly. She glared at Jeongguk, “You know damn well I'm hot JeonJeon!”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time I’ll—”

“And Y/N offered to make dinner!” Jimin quickly chimed in, saving Jeongguk from possibly making a huge mistake.

Your heart started to race as your eyes met Namjoon’s. He arched an eyebrow curiously. Your pinky started to heat up as your body reminded you of the trauma. You quickly slapped Jimin in the chest with the back of your hand, prompting a faint ow from him. You offered Namjoon a nervous smile as Jimin rubbed the inflicted area. “Y-Yeah I did, but I was quickly shut down.”

“By who?” He asked.

“By me,” Seokjin answered quickly and confidently. “I don’t need her to fuck up my kitchen.”

Your head whipped back towards Seokjin. “You don’t even know if I’ll fuck up your kitchen!” You were sick of the little one-off comments. Ever since you got here, he’s been nothing but a dick to you for no reason.

“Cooking is more than boiling some noodles, Y/N.”

He had such a pretentious tone. “Fuck off. I’ve been on my own for almost seven years. You think I got a body like this from some fucking ramen?” You prided yourself on your shape. It took a lot of training and healthy eating to feel comfortable in your skin, and being here caused changes that made you slightly insecure.

In your peripheral view, you caught Solar pressing her lips into a line. She had a comment she was holding back, and for her safety that was a wise decision.

“OK, so ramen and a few dry-ass pieces of chicken.”

You stared at the man, blinking your eyes a few times. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re such a—”

“I’ll allow it,” Namjoon said.

All eyes were directed to him with the same shocked expression. A collective “What?” spilled out of everyone’s mouth as they stared at their leader.

“I’ve had a long day, and honestly, the last thing on my mind is spending more money on takeout. So, Y/N, if you say you can cook, then go for it.”

“Yes!” Jeongguk exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. He was way too excited for a home-cooked meal. Shit, if all you knew how to make was a slice of toast, he would be happy with that.

Namjoon noticed Jeongguk’s eagerness and smirked slightly to himself. “I bet the fridge is empty. Thank you, Jeongguk, for volunteering to take her grocery shopping.” What kind of older brother would he be without a little teasing?

Jeongguk’s arms instantly dropped as his hopes for relaxing in the living room died in front of him. “No,” he drawled out in a hushed tone. Your brows furrowed as you looked over at him. “Anything but grocery shopping,” he mumbled quietly. Your look of curiosity turned into a glare. And to think you were excited to spend more one-on-one time with him.

Seokjin let out a loud groan. “My kitchen is gonna be a mess. I already know it.”

Your glare then directed to Seokjin. “Calm your tits. Your kitchen will be fine.”

“Yeah!” Solar suddenly said. “I’m sure what’s-her-face can cook well!”

“Y/N,” you said through a clenched jaw as you looked at Solar. And to think you were slightly excited to have another girl in the house, a potential friend even. Someone you could bond with and keep in touch with once you were out of this situation. You could never have enough friends. But she quickly proved to be one of those girls so obsessed with her man and their relationship that they didn’t even know what day of the week it was. Guess it’s just Chaeyoung for now. “It’s Y/N.”

Solar looked at you with a weird expression, clearly uncomfortable with how you addressed her. “Uh yeah,” she said softly, “Y/N.”

Namjoon clapped his hands together, startling Solar, but you were unaffected. You stared at the girl, boring a hole into her as her uncomfortableness continued to grow within her. Her eyes darted around before finally falling on Seokjin’s hands in her lap.

“Well, it’s getting late,” Namjoon said as he walked past the couch. “JK take the card and take her to the store.” Jeongguk let out a drawled-out groan as he threw his head back onto the couch cushion. “I don’t wanna hear it,” Namjoon scolded, “you’re the one who was complaining about food.”

Jeongguk quietly followed after you in the somewhat empty grocery store. It was late, and only a few customers were walking around. As you pushed the cart, glancing between the list Namjoon gave you before leaving and the food on the shelves, you kept getting peeks at your appearance. You let out a soft huff, slightly irritated. Because of a certain Jeongguk, you were insanely overdressed for the weather. You were already wearing his baggy clothing, and on top of that, he had you put on one of his sweaters, a black fitted cap, and sunglasses. Mind you, it was 8’o’clock at night in mid-April. You looked absolutely ridiculous and fought him every step of the way until he was forced to physically dress you. Shame on you for enjoying how he grabbed your wrist and pulled you around his room, ranting about how you were "so stubborn" and "didn’t know how to listen". It was good that he didn’t turn around to see the stupid smile on your lips from hearing his annoyed tone. "A brat through and through," he said to you. All a part of the plan to get manhandled just a little. You felt like he enjoyed putting his hands on you just as much as you enjoyed it. Something about him made you wanna test the waters often and see how far you could get before a big reaction.

You glanced over your shoulder to see how far he was from you. Only a few steps, but not paying any mind to you. “Namjoon was nice today,” you thought out loud. You were shocked when he gave you permission to cook and even more so when he told you to get the groceries. Supervised or not, you were expecting to never see the light of day again besides hanging out on the roof.

Jeongguk nodded silently. His eyebrowed squished together as he internally debated if he wanted to throw this bag of chips in the cart. “Yeah, normally happens when he doesn’t have to kill that many people.”

Your eyes widen a bit. Jeongguk stated it so casually that it forced you to remember that they were a gang at the end of the day. To think it’s only been almost two weeks since the failed drug bust. “Ah,” you feigned indifference. You were supposed to be used to this, after all. Even though this is the closest you've been to the mafia life in a few years. But as his statement fully settled, you gripped onto the cart handlebar a little tighter. Namjoon was a big man — he obviously worked out more than Jeongguk, and the fact that he was taller than him, who easily towers over you — didn’t seem to help. The cold and emotionless stare he gave you when he broke your pinky terrified you. Just picturing Namjoon standing over another person, beaten to a pulp, sent a chill down your spine. Not that you would ever let anyone know. You are actively making sure you’re on his good side.

“So the deal with those guys is going well, I assume.” You said as you put a couple of things into the cart.

Jeongguk instantly turned his head towards you. Namjoon mentioned that you were eavesdropping while having dinner, but he was so caught up in trying to get the image of Yeonjun’s eyes watching you acknowledge it. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly as he walked over to you. He tossed the bag of chips in the cart as he looked at you.

“That’s good,” you continued to walk as a playful smirk started to form on your lips. “I wonder how Yeonjun is doing.”

Jeongguk’s eyes narrowed at the back of your head, sucking his teeth. “Why? You into him or something?”

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped from your lips. You turned around, your eyes locking with Jeongguk's wide ones. It took him a few seconds before the realization sank in. His facial expression then dropped, rolling his eyes as he willingly walked into your little trap. “Shut up.”

“Why?” You giggled. “What happened to Mr. I’m-not-jealous, hm?”

“Fuck you,” he drawled out before passing you. His hand found the cart, pushing it alongside him as he turned down the aisle.

“It’s cute how you try to hide it,” you grinned as you looked at the back of his head. Your eyes traveled down to his shoulders, briefly admiring how broad they looked in his button-down jersey.

“Yeah yeah, what are you making for dinner?” He asked, trying to distract himself from his thudding heart. He wasn’t jealous, and he sure as hell wasn’t cute. What was with you making him feel this way?

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I didn’t ask you what you liked.” Your eyes met his. He stared at you, glaring while you offered him an innocent smile. You regained control of the cart again and pushed it until you reached the produce aisle.

“I think I should know since I have to eat it.” He argued.

“Then everyone would have to know, and it wouldn’t be a surprise,” you countered as you focused on the vegetables ahead of you. You were trying to remember which ones your mom used for the meal you wanted to make. Recently, you’ve been missing her tremendously, and eating this meal would soothe the ache in your heart.

“Or,” he purposed as he stepped in your line of sight. Your eyes trailed up his chest to his face where he offered you a grin. “You could tell me since I’m your favorite.”

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Jeongguk’s smile instantly dropped, and his gaze hardened. He said nothing funny. “W-Who ever said you’re my favorite?”

He scoffed loudly, arms folding over his chest. “C’mon, be real. Who could you possibly like more than me?”

After your laughter died down, you remained silent. You held his gaze, slowly watching as his eyes filled with worry. Was Jeongguk wrong? Do you really have an interest in someone besides him? Could it have been Jimin? You were sitting pretty close to him earlier. He felt crazy, overthinking every little interaction with his team members.

“So you guys only eat breakfast together? Not dinner?” You asked, changing the subject. You didn’t want to answer him, feeling like it would give him a huge head. Plus, he should know how you feel. It was painfully obvious, at least for you.

He called out your name, and the way he said your name sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. You moved past him to the produce, biting down on your lower lip as you felt his eyes following you. “I know you did not just avoid my question.”

“When I was younger,” you continued. You tried your best to ignore your back heating up from Jeongguk's glare as you grabbed a plastic bag and filled it with vegetables. “My father made sure we had a family dinner every night. Just me, him, and my mother. He used to send his men home for two hours just so we could have our privacy.” You felt your lips form into a small smile as bittersweet memories filled your mind. Your father wasn’t always an abusive dickhead. “I’m not saying we should do it every night since breakfast seems really important to Namjoon. Maybe like twice a week.”

You turned to face him, watching his once-narrowed eyes soften before taking the bag from you and putting it in the cart. The conversation of who your favorite is was far from over, but he’ll let it slide after noticing the glimmer of sadness in your eyes. “So dinner and breakfast on some days?” He asked as you turned around to start filling another bag of vegetables.

You nodded silently, observing each vegetable you grabbed until you felt a presence behind you. Suddenly, you were frozen, your heart rate increasing for a moment before you came back to your senses. Jeongguk was always so close to you, driving you damn near mad each time he was. But to be doing this in public? The few passersby could see his hips pressed against your backside. His thin tracksuit shorts barely do anything to protect you from feeling his bulge pressing into you. Excitement rushed through your veins, pooling in your lower regions. He leaned down a little, his head now aligned with your ear.

“You should get some of those,” he whispered, pointing to some random vegetables.

How could such a tiny interaction cause goosebumps to form over your skin — it was embarrassing. You didn’t even know what vegetable he pointed to, nor did you care. Your hand moved almost mechanically towards it to grab it and put it in the bag. He had to know what he does to you, he had to. His voice aided the tiny ball of arousal swirling in your lower abdomen. Your mind was wandering to the dirty side. Can you get arrested for fucking in a grocery store? You shook your head, physically trying to put those thoughts in the bin before continuing your previous conversation.

“If I'm going to be here and work with you guys, I think it would help us grow closer. The missions would go much smoother then.”

Jeongguk chuckled softly, a reaction you weren’t expecting. You looked at him, eyebrows squishing together as you tilted your head to the side. His smile lingered on his lips a little from your cute reaction. “If I'm being honest, I don’t think that would do much of anything.”

Namjoon was forcing himself to be cordial for Jeongguk’s sake. He kept up with this little lie, so maybe you would cooperate sooner. Namjoon only embarked on the more serious tasks. Nothing like a simple drug pickup, or a collection, so he wasn’t much to worry about. Now Taehyung was a different story. He was a hair-shy of being deadset on putting you in a grave. He was waiting for you to fuck up again so he wouldn’t have to hold back. If you died by his hand, it would be out of self-defense.

Jeongguk chuckled again, shaking his head from side to side as he grabbed the bag from you. “Yeah, definitely won’t help shit.”

Your eyes narrowed. You were being hopeful for once with these people, and he found it amusing? Like you said a joke? “Stop being so fucking negative,” you snapped, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. He soon mirrored your expression, his half-smile dropping in an instant. You walked to the cart, starting to walk away from him. "You're killing my fucking vibe. All I’m trying to do is help you guys here, and you find shit funny? Like it's not possible? Fuck you.”

Jeongguk stared at you for a moment before chuckling again. This one was slightly different than the last. Either way, you voicing how you felt was not a laughing matter. You opened your mouth, ready to fly off the handle and rip him a new one entirely when you felt his chest against your back again. You stopped walking while he placed his hands on top of yours, swallowing them completely. You glanced at the intricate ink that covered his fingers, leading up to the sleeve on his right arm. The familiar warmth of his breath hit the rim of your ear.

“I’ma need you to stop talking to me like that.”

His voice was low, and his tone was intimidating. He held so much power in that one sentence, so much command that it caused your body to flush with heat. The ball of arousal grew as your intimate area became warm. He was right earlier when he called you a brat. You enjoyed pushing his buttons and seeing what combination would make Jeongguk explode. A quality you both shared. But unlike him, you would have a limit and an urge to back down. He knew his place when it came to you, and he was going to make sure you knew yours. You’ll get your comeuppance either way.

“And if I don’t?” You asked, pushing back even though your voice fell to a whisper. If you were any louder Jeongguk was bound to hear the lust hidden behind your words.

He couldn't know what kind of hold he had on you. You couldn’t let him see how easily you could come undone just by a simple glance. Your question produced a low scoff from him, causing a shiver to run down your spine while tickling your ear. He then moved back a little as one of his hands left yours. You let out a small gasp once you felt his fingers wrap around your neck. Jeongguk’s intent wasn’t to cause any damage as he held your throat while tilting your head back. Your eyes soon settled on the fluorescent lights illuminating the store.

“You wanna rethink that answer?” He questioned with a little rasp.

The area between your legs suddenly ached as your eyes fluttered shut for a second. This man had you in a puddle and ready for the taking just from a simple question. You didn’t even care about the stragglers in the store. If he told you to, you would bend over and pull down these sweatpants in a second. The teasing between you two was no longer enough. You wanted to feel your walls stretch around him again. How you’ve managed to last this long without ripping each other’s clothes off was impressive. Your silence prompted another chuckle from him. He pressed his lips to the side of your temple briefly, leaving a gentle kiss behind before he removed his hand from your throat.

“That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. You returned your head to your normal position before watching him walk to the front of your cart. His fingers gripped the metal grids, pulling it alongside him and causing you to follow absentmindedly. Your brows furrowed as your lips formed into a pout. You were upset at yourself for letting him turn you on this much in public. You could feel the dampness of your panties as you walked. Fucking Jeongguk.

You only needed a few more items off the list before you joined the line to pay. You were quiet the entire time, too distracted by the ache between your legs. You knew you couldn't continue challenging him here. It would end with his lips on yours in some corner of the store, hands desperately pulling at the fabric that covered you both. Once Jeongguk paid, he took control of the cart, and you followed behind. You trailed behind him until you reached the car, where he popped the trunk and started to load in the groceries. You leaned against the side of his car, hands stuffed in your pockets as you watched him.

Jeongguk glanced over at you not once but twice before stopping briefly. “So you had me take you grocery shopping, and you won’t even help load the car?”

You looked at him before you shook your head. “Nope.” Payback for turning me on, you thought to yourself before turning around. You were going to walk to the passenger door before you were met with resistance.

Jeongguk tugged at the material of your hoodie gently. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him again. “Help me load up this car. I’m not gonna ask you again.”

“You didn’t ask me to begin with.” You said as you turned around to face him again. “If you asked me, maybe I would consider helping you.”

He stared at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “I don’t remember you asking me to pay for this.”

“I don’t remember you asking me to make dinner, to begin with,” you countered.

Jeongguk’s eyes narrowed at you. What the hell came over you today? You were challenging him every chance you could get. He knew about your sharp tongue but figured he was excused from it. He assumed you wouldn’t try to test him as if he wouldn’t put you in your place. Your name fell from his lips, warning you.

And if you cared for warnings, maybe you would’ve reacted differently.

Your brow arched before taking a few steps towards him. You tilted your head back slightly to keep your gaze locked with his. You said his name, ensuring you used to same warning tone as he did.

He arched a brow amusingly, chuckling lowly as he folded his arms over his chest. Jeongguk looked away from you and towards the vacant parking lot. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek while the corner of his lips turned upward into a small smile. The signature Namjoon face looks way better on him. His eyes rested on you once more. “You’re really trying me again?”

“And if I am?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side, eyes sparkling with innocence. You did well keeping your composure, considering those same words rewarded you with a hand teasingly around your throat.

His eyes glanced down at your lips briefly, then continued to trail down your body before returning to your eyes again. All he did was nod his head a couple of times. With furrowed brows, he continued to put the groceries in the trunk without another word. A proud smirk formed on your lips as you returned to the car. Triumph filled you to the brim. You won against the infamous Jeongguk. Funny. To think just last week, he had the upper hand on you. You waited for him to finish, glancing over your nails absentmindedly. The trunk slammed suddenly, causing you to jump.

“Hey, the car didn’t do anything to you,” you said, but there was no response. You heard the subtle click of the car unlocking. You got into the passenger side as he got into the driver's.

The car ride was silent. It wasn't the kind of silence after you've used his shower and escaped into his bed. Or the kind when it's early in the morning, and you're both just enjoying each other's presence. This one was heavy and borderline uncomfortable. You shifted a little as he stared off at the road. Stillness. Was it possible your little fun went too far?

You took a chance, looking in Jeongguk’s direction. His eyes were glued on the road. He had one hand on the wheel while the other arm was propped up against the door, his hand rested against his mouth where his fingers hid a faint smirk. His silver earrings that lined his lobe glimmered gently in the low lighting, captivating your attention. Has he always had that many? Four hoops that lessened in size as they went up the lobe swayed slightly. He also had a double helix piercing towards the top of his ear. Your eyes continued to travel along his features, falling on his sharp jawline that led to his bare neck. Your thoughts were suddenly filled with you sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against his as you left red bruises on his sensitive skin. His breathy moans filled your ears as his hands gripped your hips to control the speed. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, feeling your core grow warm again. It didn’t help that his hair was pulled back into a messy bun. It was a style he wore often to keep his midnight locks out of his face. Minus the two to three pesky strands that always managed to escape, somehow making the style much hotter. How he managed to look good all the time was a sin in itself. Maybe Hoseok was right, and you were whipped.

“You’re staring,” he commented suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“And?” You responded, purposely keeping your eyes glued to him. “Now I can’t look at you?”

Your answer was met with quietness, provoking your bratty nature more.

“You never had a problem with me looking at you before.”

Silence again. Your brows furrowed, folding your arms over your chest as you directed your attention ahead, staring at the same thing he was.

“Say the word then, and I won’t even spare a glance in your fucking direction, your majesty.”

Something snapped in Jeongguk. That floss-like line you've been bouncing on since before you left finally popped. It was like poking a sleeping bear repeatedly, trying to see how many you could get in before the bear finally awoke. And it did, but you forgot the cave had no exit. Now you’re left to deal with the problem you've cultivated.

He let out a loud scoff. “You know what?” The car abruptly shifted to the right, pulling off to the side of the road where he parked the vehicle. Jeongguk took off his seatbelt and got out, closing the door behind him. Your brows squished together as you watched him walk around the hood, the headlights illuminating him in the darkness. He then reached your side, pulling the door open. “Get out.”

You looked at him, confusion further spreading over your face as you tried to process why he was doing this. “What?”

He didn’t answer. You were beginning to find this new habit rather annoying. He took a step closer to you and leaned into the car as you were about to respond. His body hovered over yours, your breath hitching in your throat as he unbuckled your seatbelt. He grabbed you by your sweatshirt, swiftly pulling you out of the car. You stumbled, your heart pounding in your chest and your core throbbing as you tried to get your footing. He never gave you the chance to, his fingers finding your throat instantly. He pushed your body against the back half of the car, causing you to gasp.

You. Fucked. Up.

He held your throat lightly, not enough to cause any damage, but enough to feel some pressure. He stared down at you, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. As you looked up at Jeongguk, you felt the same gaze that he gave you in the kitchen. Danger. Definite danger. Warmth began to spread from your core to your lower abdomen, feeling your walls clench around nothing. His grip on your throat loosened, and before you knew it, you leaned up and filled the gap between you two. As your lips pressed against his, you both shared a deep inhale. It’s been entirely too long since the last time you kissed. Your lips molded with his. He started off gently, your lips making him almost forget the reason he stopped the car. Your lips were always so soft against his —it could’ve put him in a trance. But the kiss grew deeper, hungrier, as you moaned into his mouth. His fingers tangled in your hair, your hands finding the hem of his shirt and slipping underneath the material. You felt his cool skin with your fingertips, admiring the subtle ridges from his defined abs. His tongue swiped your lower lip before entering your mouth, gliding past your tongue sensually. Fuck, why was he such a good kisser? His fingers gripped your hair tightly, pulling on it until the kiss broke. You groaned softly as you looked up at the sky.

“I’m so fucking sick of your mouth,” he growled through a clenched jaw. You inhaled sharply when you felt his lips leaving a trail of kisses over your jawline. “You think you can talk to me any way you fucking want?” He mumbled against your warming skin, making his way down your neck. When his lips found your spot, you gasped aloud, prompting him to linger over the sensitive area. He sucked and nibbled lightly, diminishing you to a puddle of soft moans and whimpers. Fingers still tangled in your hair, he slipped his free hand into your sweatpants. The way his digit ran over your damp clothed sex — teasingly slow, making your clit throb from the slightest brush by — made your face contort with pleasure.

His brow arched amusingly. “Ah,” he breathed, pressing his lips to your bruised skin, “so wet already?” He commented, making you whine in response as heat flooded your cheeks. He didn’t need to remind you how easily he turns you on. Quite rude of him, honestly. Jeongguk pulled your panties away from your core. Some resistance caused his member to twitch in his pants. He gathered some of your slick, using your juices to lube up your swollen clit. Jeongguk rubbed it side to side, causing a shiver to run through your body as you moaned out for him. Your eyes glued shut from the pleasure, reaching down to grab his wrist. You were so sensitive, your hips jerking against his finger as they circled your bud. It didn’t take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen, your moans becoming more frequent as you neared that edge.

He denied you the pleasure of release, pulling his hand out of your pants just as you were about to cum. He let go of your hair, causing your eyes to shoot open. You glared at the man ahead of you, and all Jeongguk did was smirk as if he was full of pride. That little… His hand grabbed your hips, turning you around before pressing you against the car again. He pulled your hips back into him, feeling his hardened length through his sweatpants as he pressed his hand against your lower back. You let him bend you as he needed, putting an arch in your spine. You suddenly felt a breeze on your ass, followed by his cold hand. Your pants and underwear hung around your ankles, exposing yourself to him. He squeezed your cheek before lightly slapping it, watching it ripple as you yelped, then hummed with delight.

“Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunted while slapping your ass again.

You held in your sound of pleasure as your brows furrowed. “So, before you didn’t want me to make a sound, and now you want me to talk?” You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Make up your fucking mind.”

It only took a few seconds for you to regret your response entirely. Jeongguk's eyes narrowed at you, and you knew you were in deep shit. You quickly stared ahead, trying to avoid his piercing glare. You then felt his length slap against your ass. It felt hard, way harder than what you remembered. He slid his length between your lips. You mewled as he coated himself in your wetness, jumping a little every time he brushed by your aching clit. Jeongguk leaned forward, wrapping his hand around your neck again before pulling you back until your body was against his.

“This is what you fucking wanted, right?” He said as he lined his tip with your entrance. He pushed into you achingly slow. You both moaned in satisfaction as you stretched around him inch by inch until he bottomed out. Your velvety walls encased his member like you were made just for him. You were so wet and ready for him that he slid in easily. Your knees could go weak just from feeling him inside you again. Then he slowly pulled out until only the tip was left before pushing back in. It took a few strokes for you to get adjusted. It had been a while since you had him inside of you, but once you were accommodated, he picked up the pace.

“Is this why you talk back so often?” He questioned through a clenched jaw. Fuck, did he always sound this hot when he was angry? His voice was low, and his tone was filled with an edge. You loved Jeongguk's normal voice — oddly comforting, deep, and warm — but hearing him when he was angry? A different level of hot. “Cuz you wanted to feel this cock inside you again, huh?”

Yes, a thousand times yes.

If this was all you had to do — piss him off until he had no other choice but to fuck some sense into you — you would’ve done so a while ago. You would’ve pushed his buttons that first day. Then you would’ve pushed them every chance you got after that. You would’ve been getting hate fucked against that raggedy ass bed every single night. Oh, the opportunities you’ve missed out on. His hips snapped into you hard, keeping a steady pace as your moans filled the surrounding area. Your eyes shut as if it was going to help manage the pleasure. He loved hearing those pretty sounds coming out of your mouth, just for him. But as pretty as they were, he was waiting for something specific. His hand squeezed your throat. “Answer me,” he growled into your ear.

You gasped. The pleasure washed over your mind so intensely that it was left fogged. How could Jeongguk expect you to answer him when he was buried inside you? You opened your eyes for a moment, bringing some sense of clarity. You had to weigh your options carefully. If you say yes and admit the truth, he might take pity on you. You didn’t need his pity. What was the worse he could do? Make you so sore that it hurts to walk? Psh, that’s nothing. You were pretty sure you could handle it. What’s walking around like an old-school cowboy for a couple of days? He rammed into you, his patience being tested too much for his liking. You yelped again, his tip applied so much pressure to your cervix that your body shook involuntarily.

“N-No,” you moaned out. “I-I could’ve waited longer. Your dick isn’t that good.”

He scoffed. “Oh really?” He let go of your neck and pushed you back down. Your hands pressed against the car window, partly holding yourself up. How much of a masochist were you? “I didn’t know you were such a filthy liar.” Your walls clenched around his length. You didn’t expect how he was talking to you to turn you on so much. Was it because of Jeongguk himself, or was it because somewhere deep down you enjoyed being degraded? Whatever it was, you loved every second of it. He grabbed onto your hips tightly, stabilizing you as he thrusts into you ruthlessly. Your moans grew so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if people miles away could hear you.

His cock was so good, repeatedly hitting that spot in your walls that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. You felt the pressure in your lower abdomen continue to build. Your walls clenched around him again, preparing you for the incoming release.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jeongguk spat. He continued to thrust, pushing you closer to that edge until you suddenly felt empty. You let out an audible gasp, feeling that familiar pressure in your abdomen as it began to diminish. “You don’t get to cum when you talk to me like that.”

Jeongguk continued to pump his length behind you, marveling at how your ass perked up just for him. He placed his free hand on your flesh, palming it. You whined, feeling at your wit's end. Your core throbbed for a release. If this is what being a smart ass got you, forget it. Being denied twice was more than you could handle.

“Please,” you mewled shamelessly. All forms of fight and sass left your system. At this point, all you could think about was your orgasm. “Please let me cum, sir.”

Jeongguk’s cock twitched in his hand. Not once has he been called ‘sir’ before. “Sir?” He mused, reaching down to cup your heat. His fingers rubbed back and forth, catching your clit each time. You trembled as you pressed your hips into his touch, that pressure in your lower abdomen quickly returning. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

His fingers then stopped, paying direct attention to your bud as he rubbed it in circles. “You gonna cum all over this dick?”

You whimpered. The thought alone made your walls clench around nothing. “Yes, sir.”

A smirk plastered on his lips as he removed his hand and gave your ass a tap. He aligned himself with your entrance again. “That’s my girl.” He pushed in slow, causing you both to moan. As he resumed the pace he set before, it didn’t take long for you to keep your word. You came on his member, your velvety walls throbbing around him. He groaned loudly, gripping your ass tightly. He didn’t give you a break to let you calm down from your orgasm, riding you through it. You felt too good for him to stop. He turned you into a whimpering mess as a second high built up right after.

You throbbed around him once more, causing a soft chuckle to leave his lips. “Another one already?” He asked, smugness coating his words as he smirked. “What happened to your dick isn’t that good?” You groaned in defeat, knowing he would make you eat your words. His thrusts pushed you into another orgasm, praising you though he still didn’t slow down for your sensitive walls.

This man was absolutely crazy.

Never have you had someone make you cum back to back. And as that pressure began to build up again, you regretted for a split second ever testing him. But it all felt so amazing, making you high off the cocktail of endorphins that pumped through your system. You subconsciously began to press yourself against the car. Your walls clenched around him again. You needed to move away from his thrusts that knew no mercy.

Jeongguk took notice of this almost instantly. He grabbed your hips before pushing himself into you fully. There’s that pressure on your cervix again. “Nuh-uh,” he teased as he pressed tour body against yours. You were pushed further into the side of the car. “Why are you running away from me?” He slid his hands up under your baggy shirt, holding you in place at your waist as his hips resumed snapping into you. Your eyes went cross for a moment before closing.

You were slowly trying to lessen the intensity by slyly moving away. But instead, you were rewarded with a new position. His tip now plowed into your cervix with each thrust. He placed a kiss on the crook of your neck. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” You moaned a yes. “You wanted to be slutted out on the side of the road for everyone to see?” You nodded your head quickly, your mind turning to mush as your body hyper-focused on the area between your legs. “Mm, who would’ve known you’re this naughty?” He then reached his hand in between you and the car. His finger found your clit where he rubbed it side to side in sync with his thrusts. That’s all it took to throw you over the edge again. Your body shook violently, knees threatening to give out as you experienced the most intense orgasm you’ve had. Your cum drenched your thighs as you whimpered out for him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned out suddenly before pulling out. He didn’t expect your orgasm to push him into his own. His hands disappeared from you, stroking his length before he let out a loud groan. You felt his warm seed sprinkling across your ass, making you hum softly. You wished you could feel him cumming inside you again, filling you up so much that it leaked out as soon as he pulled out. You rested your head against the car as you heard some rustling. You were completely and utterly fucked out. He could ask you what time of day it was, and you would answer morning despite being surrounded in darkness.

You suddenly felt the rough texture of a cheap napkin on your ass as he wiped up his mess. “You couldn’t find something softer?” You grumbled, feeling extra sensitive everywhere.

He chuckled softly, crumbling the used napkin in his hand before turning you around. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, mumbling out a soft ‘sorry’. While Jeongguk pulled your underwear and sweatpants up, your gaze caught his. His eyes were sweet and doe-like again. The half smile he offered you made your stomach do a flip. And the way he cupped your cheek so gently — despite the fact he just used the same hand to leave a mark on your ass — before pressing his lips to yours made your heart skip a beat. You melted into him while your knees finally gave out, prompting him to quickly wrap his arm around your waist to hold you up. You both couldn’t help but giggle into the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck lazily. He pulled away and helped you into the car before getting in himself.

He gave you such tender and careful touches that it made you snicker. He was always gentle with you afterward. It was funny, considering he released a whole new side tonight. A dominating and rough side that made your heat throb from the thought of a round two, even if you were in no shape for it.

“Do you wanna get something small before we head out?” Jeongguk asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded as your eyes shut for the moment. You cursed at yourself mentally, remembering that you still had to make dinner after this.

“Want McDonald’s?”

It was dark outside, late into the night. Chaeyoung glanced at her phone screen, the blue light illuminating her face as she double-checked the address sent to her. She has never been to your father’s building — there was never a need for her to know what it looked like due to your immense hatred towards the man. She had the feeling you wanted to separate her from that part of your life, and you would do anything you could to keep it that way. There were times you pushed her into your closet due to an impromptu visit from him and his men. Whenever he would call you, you would either ignore him or leave the house to take the call. When you told her he had passed, she wasn’t stunned by your ecstatic demeanor but more by the fact that she never even got the chance to meet him officially. The difference between families was a cultural shock. You were practically adopted into her household with how often you visited Chaeyoung. Her parents loved you, her brother loved you, and the only family you had left didn’t even know she existed.

She glanced up at the building and compared it to the image on her phone. The pictures looked similar enough, despite the drastic difference between day and night. Either way, she stuffed the phone in her pocket and pushed through. She cautiously approached the door, pushing on the stiff object once before realizing it was locked. Chaeyoung cursed softly to herself, reaching for her phone once again and looking for a specific text. She turned to the keypad and enter a four-digit code.

“Why are there so many codes?” She mumbled to herself before hearing a confirmation beep and walking in. The inside of the building was dimly lit by the soft glow of the computers that apparently stayed on throughout the night. It was almost eerie with how quiet the building was. The only thing she heard was the soft thuds of her converse leading her to the elevator. She had no idea why they insisted on meeting at night. It’s not like she was a secret to them, and she was certain the employees here wouldn’t care much for her presence.

As she waited for the elevator to deliver her to the floor specified in the text instructions, you emerged in her mind for a moment. The corners Chaeyoung’s of lips turned downward. The last time she saw you was when Yunho was dragging her away. It was a quick glance, catching only a sliver of you behind Mingi’s stature. She pressed the man for answers, and he only repeated how much you needed to keep her safe. You were so concerned about Chaeyoung’s safety that you forgot to prioritize your own. She worried and hoped that you would make it home. She slept in your bed for days, but that front door never opened. The moment when you stumbled through the hall, beaten and bruised but alive, to meet her with that weak smile and probably some snarky comment about how your bed smells like her now never came. Chaeyoung’s heart sank. All she desired was that you were alive.

She walked down a dark hallway, seeing a room emitting light towards the end. As she walked inside, she saw the three faces that were beginning to grow familiar to her. Chaeyoung never really hung out with your bodyguards. She only heard of them through stories. The last night she saw you was the second time that she's been around your friends. She would hope that you’d be happy she’s developing a friendship with them.

“Short stuff!” Yunho beamed.

She hated that nickname, but still, this was for you. Her lips pressed into a small smile as she waved at the men.

“Any reason why you couldn’t meet in the day?” She asked, sitting in the empty chair next to Wooyoung. From there, she noticed another man in the room with them. He was unrecognizable to her. Was he a part of your crew? She could’ve sworn that there were only three men you mentioned. Even though the man was boring a hole into the Chaeyoung, he never uttered a word. He never offered a smile. He was like a stone statue. Chaeyoung wasn't even 100% sure he was breathing.

“It’s too risky in the daytime,” Mingi answered simply. He leaned back in your father’s chair, placing his feet upon his chestnut desk. “Employees have been running around like headless chickens since Y/N got kidnapped.”

Chaeyoung figured that. You did mention having to run a few things and tidy up a few ends before you could leave. But she never would’ve thought that without you the place would be in shambles.

“What you got for us?”

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She scrolled through a few pictures before stopping at a particular video. Chaeyoung handed the dark-haired man the phone as she looked at him. Mingi then took the phone in his hand and played the video.

“One of my friends works at that club where it fronts as a restaurant. She was filming a live right before the shooting broke out.”

Mingi let out a skeptical hum, wondering where Chaeyoung was leading with this. So far, it seemed like a waste of time. The woman on the screen was talking about her favorite lipstick before he heard the familiar sound of rounds beginning fired. Panic flooded the woman’s features in an instant. And instead of running, as most people did, she only fell back while the camera flipped to her surroundings. Just as he opened his mouth to protest against Chaeyoung’s “ground-breaking” news, he caught a familiar face. Your familiar face. You were holding something close to your chest as you looked around frantically. Then, a man emerged from a room behind you and aimed his weapon at you.

“Hey isn’t that Jackson?!” Yunho commented as he watched the video over Mingi’s shoulder.

“Yep,” was all Mingi responded as he sent the video to himself. He placed Chaeyoung’s phone on the desk, prompting her to grab it.

“So,” Chaeyoung said softly as she looked at the men. That namedrop meant absolutely nothing to her. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Chaeyoung repeated, raising her voice a little. Everyone’s gaze fell onto her, including Mingi’s piercing eyes. Though she was slightly intimidated, she held her ground. “You know this guy, right? Why aren’t you on the phone with him right now trying to see where she is?”

“Because that doesn’t concern you,” Mingi said as he took his feet off of your desk. “We—”

“Like hell it does!” Chaeyoung yelled, now standing up. “That’s my best friend, and you guys seem way too fucking chill over this newfound information. The person you claim to adore has been missing for over a month now! Yet you still show no sense of urgency. Instead, you’re just playing big boss in her office while she’s going through god knows what!”

Mingi’s face twitched. He didn’t like being yelled at, especially if the person is a foot shorter than him. He stood up from your desk slowly, eyes glued to the woman in front of him. Despite feeling the sudden urge to run away, Chaeyoung held her ground. “You feel better now that you got that off your chest?” Mingi asked.

Chaeyoung didn’t respond, didn’t move an inch, she just stared up at the man whose eyes were filling with hatred within each second that passed. This couldn’t be the same goofball, blabber-mouth, Mingi that you always raved about.

“Good,” he responded without an answer, “now get out.”

“W-What?! No! I need to—”

Suddenly, Chaeyoung's feet were off the ground. Her shirt was crumbled in Mingi’s hand as he pulled her close to him. Her body pressed against the desk uncomfortably as Mingi’s face was now inches from hers. Just as quickly as she realized she was raised in the air, she was tossed to the ground. She landed on her wrist, wincing slightly from the pain before looking up at the man.

“Get out.” He repeated.

She glanced at the other two men for help, only to be met with the top of their heads. Their eyes were glued to the floor, avoiding eye contact with her. They didn’t want to be the next target for Mingi’s rage. Filled with utter disbelief, she scoffed loudly. Her eyes landed on Mingi, glaring at him as she pushed herself off the ground. She dusted off her backside before turning around and leaving, but not without promptly flipping Mingi off. Her angry footsteps carried her towards the elevator. It was up to her and solely her to find you now. The only other people close to you seemed to not care about where you were, at least not as much as Chaeyoung.

The air was uncomfortable in the room after Chaeyoung left. Mingi’s jaw was clenched as his phone began to ring. After answering it, a man on the other end spoke to him. Mingi only hummed in agreement before hanging up. He looked at the other three men in the room, only one of them meeting his gaze with pure curiosity.

“Let’s go.”

“Mmmm,” Jeongguk let out a satisfied hum as he leaned back in his chair. He had one hand on his stomach while the other reached up into the air in a half-assed attempt to stretch out his body. The position caused you to giggle as you reached for his empty plate in front of him. “Y/N, I didn’t know you could cook like that.”

“Yeah, seriously!” Jimin chimed in as he stood up. He began to help gather the rest of the plates left on the table. “All this time you’ve been here, and you’ve been holding out on us?”

“Seokjin hates me,” you stated as you put the stack of dishes you collected in the sink. You didn't know if that was necessarily true — he was kinda nice to you when they had the dinner meeting — but it sure did feel that way. “Why would you think he would let me into his kitchen?”

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk answered before he got up from his chair. He properly stretched out his body, failing to hold back the small shriek accompanied by pulling his muscles. “But you got Namjoon’s approval, which means he’s probably gonna let you cook more.”

“Oh fun times,” you said sarcastically, earning a playful elbow from Jimin.

After your short McDonald’s run and a small argument with Jeongguk about helping carry in some of the groceries, you finally were able to cook. The meal was simple and something your mom used to make for you often as a child. The aroma brought back so many blissful yet painful memories. You were glad everyone — well, almost everyone — enjoyed it. You even got a compliment from Namjoon. You didn’t know he was capable of giving those. Everyone left the table once they were done eating. Everyone had nothing but good things to say about your meal. Jimin and Jeongguk stayed back, mainly because Jeongguk was trying to get a third serving.

You were about to start washing the dishes, but Jeongguk quickly grabbed the sponge from you and bumped you with his hip to move you out of the way. You almost would have argued with him if it wasn’t for the door opening and grabbing your attention. Three heads glanced towards the sound, only to be met with a glare. Taehyung sucked on his teeth as he closed the door behind him. A bag of leftover takeout was in his hand, the items shaking slightly as he took heavy steps toward you. You mirrored his stare, challenging him in this silent intimidation tactic. He insulted your meal earlier, refusing to eat it because if he "wanted to die, he would just have JK shoot him". Needless to say, he was excused from the table.

“So, how was your dinner?” Jimin asked, trying to clear the painfully obvious tension between you two. You and Taehyung have been blessed by the graces of Namjoon. He would make sure you two are never in the same place. Even when you're both at home, one is usually upstairs in a room while the other is socializing with the members. Everyone seemed to understand that you two shouldn't be left alone together for his sake.

“Amazing,” Taehyung replied with eyes still glued on you. “How was the slop Y/N made?”

You sucked your teeth, rolling your eyes as you turned away from him. Slop. How dare he. You should have smacked him for even thinking such a sentence, let alone having the balls to say it.

“It wasn’t slop,” Jeongguk quickly retorted. He didn't give you the chance to think of a reply. “It was actually really delicious. You missed out.”

Taehyung snorted, “Highly doubt it. Why should I trust a word you say?”

Jeongguk raised his head slowly before he looked at the other man. A different type of silence took over for a second.

“What?” Jimin asked as his eyes glanced between the two. “What do you mean by that?” You were wondering the same thing.

Jeongguk’s hands stopped washing the dishes momentarily as he stared at Taehyung, almost daring him to answer the question. Taehyung tried to keep his composure as long as he could, but his gaze was akin to Namjoon’s. There was only so much he could handle before being forced to submit.

He let out a deep sigh, directing his attention to the fridge, where he haphazardly threw his leftovers in. “Nothing,” he said dryly as he slammed the fridge door closed. The items in the fridge shook, causing you and Jimin to glance at each other.

Jeongguk resumed washing the dishes as you and Jimin exchanged a look. Anyone could tell that was bullshit, and something was happening between the two that only they seemed to know about. Taehyung headed towards the stairs without another word, causing Jimin’s face to fill with worry.

“Um,” Jimin almost whispered. “I’m gonna head to bed.” He didn’t wait for a response from you two before heading after Taehyung.

You looked to Jeongguk, hoping he could provide some sort of context to whatever the fuck just went down. But he didn’t spare a glance towards you, just finished off the rest of the dishes before pulling off his gloves.

“What happened just now?” You asked as you finished drying off the rest of the plates.

Jeongguk turned around to face you, leaning against the sink before crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

Your face went blank as you looked at him. “Nothing?” You repeated, and he nodded his head. “I’m not dumb, Ggukie, I know it was something.” It’s the second time he brushed you off, and you were not fond of that. You just had sex, for fuck sake. The least he could do was keep you in the know.

Jeongguk’s heart instantly started to race. Though the tone was borderline serious, that was the first time his nickname fell from your lips. You’ve heard his other members call him that sometimes, and you thought it was a cute nickname. It felt natural as you said it, and you didn’t even realize you did until there was a pause in the conversation. A smile curled onto his lips, big and goofy. His smile showed how butterflies erupted in his stomach as his heart raced a mile a minute.

“Jeongg—mmf!” Before you could finish saying his name, you felt his lips pressed against yours. He placed his hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer and securing you in place. Your hands rested on his shoulders, returning the kiss before he pulled away.

“It’s nothing, baby.” There goes that word again. He placed his free hand on the side of your face. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

You hummed, slightly unsatisfied by his answer but too distracted to fight it further. One kiss from him, and suddenly you had a one-track mind.

“Come on,” he then pressed a kiss against your forehead. “Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.” You nodded in agreement. You would love nothing more than to crawl into bed and cuddle up next to Jeongguk right now. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he was going to take you to your bedroom, kiss you good night, then leave you alone with your thoughts. It wasn’t fair, but that was how it had to be.

You stole a glance, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of desire. Oh, how you wanted to swim in those pools of dark brown all night. You found yourself leaning in and attaching your lips to his. You couldn’t help yourself. He was always so tempting and kissed you like it was going to be the last time when you both knew it wasn’t.

“We. Should. Go. To. Bed,” he said again during each small break.

“Mhm,” you hummed as a smile started to form on your lips. You stood on the tips of your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slid his arms around your waist. You both knew you were going to be down here for a little while longer.

If only either of you realized the eyes witnessing your forbidden affection.

↠ ɴᴇxᴛ :: ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ :: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ↞

[thealwriteytrashdump]

Twist of Fate

Albert x Reader >:)

Well, this wasn’t how you expected your weekend trip to go.

Stirring your drink with the straw, you sighed heavily, taking another sip of the super-sweet cocktail. Drinking your heart out in the hotel bar wasn’t quite how you planned tonight, but the one detail of your itinerary you couldn’t control decided that he’d skip out after meeting you for the first time.

You could feel the chill in the air despite the stunning sweater dress you wore, your hair was styled the way the stylist taught you. You even wore makeup, dressing to impress your potential partner you met in an online chat server.

If you were being totally honest, this trip has done nothing but make a fool out of you. First, your flight was delayed causing you to miss your connection and subsequently making you wait in the airports for the better part of 18 hours, despite a direct flight only being 4 hours from where you lived.

While waiting in the airport, you got food poisoning and nearly shat yourself three separate times, once while on the actual plane. When you landed, due to his inability to get the days off for your trip, the man you were meeting was away at work which forced you to pay for a 30-minute taxi to your hotel that ended up costing you most of your budgeted food and fun money.

Finally when you dolled yourself up to actually meet this man, he took one look at you in your dark tight sweater dress, draping down to your mid-thigh, matching nicely with the pantyhose stockings and heels you chose specifically for this moment, and ditched you the moment he could.

He took you out, of course, but wanted to split dinner and drinks, but your extremely limited budget meant that you didn’t quite get the meal or the drinks. More just watching him awkwardly eat his meal while you munched on bread, trying your hardest to hold a conversation with him.

Despite all that, you were willing to say that it was fun, because you were with him, a man you were interested in. Of course, when he dropped you off at your hotel and drove away without saying much, you decided to head back to your room, slightly disappointed he didn’t want to spend the night.

Your texts went unanswered in the group chat and your private messages. Ultimately after a few hours of trying, he posted pictures in the group chat of him at a bar with assumed friends, arm around another woman.

Adding insult to injury, when questioned, he logged off and ignored you.

Now here you were, spending the rest of your money on one last drink in the fancy hotel bar just before it closed, dressed to the nines for no one but yourself, nursing a heartache as you contemplated what to do. Now you had nothing to do for the next couple of days while you waited to take your flight back home. You should probably leave the group chat, block his number, and move on.

Another sigh fell past your lips as you sipped on the cocktail, wondering idly if you should ask your sister to borrow some money.

How humiliating.

"What is a lovely dame like yourself doing all alone?"

Ignoring whoever was talking, you took another sip, more interested in wallowing in your self-pity, assuming that whoever was talking to someone else.

But the gentleman was not deterred, he took a seat and waved the bartender over as he placed his hand over yours and leaned in.

"It's rude to not answer a gentleman, little lady." He says lightly as he pulls up your hand to his mouth for a light kiss. The sensation of his lips on your hand pulled you out of your stupor, making you focus on the gentleman in the expensive sunglasses.

It’s midnight.

Flushing lightly, you open your mouth to say something but find your voice gone as you feel his gloved hands warm yours. His eyes were barely visible in the lens of the metal frame, as he watched you with a smirk.

“Oh? I’m sorry, I’m not-” you begin to say, pulling your hand away from his but he tightens his grip.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink, darling?” he says suddenly, as the bartender arrives. There was a moment of hesitation, just wanting to finish up and go to bed but mostly because you couldn’t afford another drink to drink. You don’t answer in time, and he signals the bartender to get another of the same drink you’re sipping on.

“Oh no no, I’m fine-”

“That’s not what I think, dear. You never answered me,” The bartender pushes forward a whiskey glass with a double shot for him with the hint of orange and peel and another cocktail for you. The gentleman smiles at you, raising his glass in a toast. Awkwardly you raise your glass to his before taking another sip.

“What is a beautiful young lady like yourself doing here specifically?” he asks again, cocking his head at you, pausing for your answer.

There was an inkling of that feminine fear in the back of your mind as you took him in. An older man, mysterious and a little handsome with a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was slicked back neatly away from his face, as he took a drink from his glass. A handsome stranger here to sweep you off your feet while you are down in the dumps in a strange bar, in a strange city.

Trouble.

“I… I’m not sure what I am doing here,” you say honestly, taking another swig as you drink him in some more. He wore a dark expensive-looking suit, an expensive watch on his wrist. He had his seat turned to you, showing off his long legs in the clean pressed suit pants with the shiny leather dress shoes.

Expensive trouble.

“I came here with an expectation and well, that kind of fell through.” You sip again, finding yourself finishing the first drink you were nursing. He brought the whiskey to his lips.

“What about you then, stranger?” You asked as you brought your straw to your lips, watching as he lifted his head lightly to drink, watching the way he swallowed.

“I have business in the city, things that need to be taken care of,” he says carefully, eyes still on you and the way you pucker your lips around the straw.

“Do you come here often?” you asked gently, side-eyeing him, feeling the effects of drinking on an empty stomach. Normally, your tolerance was higher, but considering that you never even got a proper dinner, things were processing quickly in your gut.

“Often as of late, I’m meeting with some potential business partners in the city,” he says, signaling another round for himself,

“Care for another drink, beautiful?” He asks as the bartender pushes another glass to him, watching you like a hawk as you contemplate his offer.

You should say no, you should go back to your room and go to bed.

“Sure.”

He smiled as he spoke to the bartender,

“A twist of fate, please.” He ordered as he leaned a bit closer to you. Against your better judgment, you allowed it, letting him come up close as he angled you to face him, gripping your stool and pulling you toward him in one powerful movement. Surprised, you flush darker as he continues to watch your face.

“Do you believe in fate, dear?” He asks as the bartender pushes another light pink cocktail to you. You take the delicate stem of the glass lightly as you glance back at this stranger’s handsome face, taking note of his long straight nose and thin soft lips,

“If I say yes, are you going to talk about twisting it?” You asked as you raised your glass to him again, a smile on your lips as he clinked his glass with yours.

“Well, my dear, if we’re lucky, our fates could be twisted together tonight. Don’t you agree?” He says smoothly as he gulps back his drink, you couldn’t see them, but you were sure his eyes were on you. Slowly taking a sip, you were surprised at how light and sweet the drink was, you couldn't taste the alcohol at all.

“Your eyes flicker to his face as you gulp back your drink, lifting your head as you subtly arch your back, feeling yourself melt away into buzzing pleasure.

This was dangerous but you couldn’t care less right now, enjoying the way he eagerly watched your every movement.

“I’m sure there’s something we could twist tonight,” you say dumbly, unable to think of a better quip as your nervous inhibitions drained away, replaced with drunken confidence.

He chuckled, taking a look around at the emptying bar, finishing his drink in one gulp. He paid the bartender and stood as you finished your cocktail.

Unfortunate that you got so fucked up on only three drinks.

“My dear, why don’t we take our fate upstairs?” He asks as he holds out his hand to you. You could feel your tummy burn but with what you couldn’t be sure. Taking his hand, you let him lead you away, you should really go to bed. You were almost too buzzed, trying to focus on walking straight with him.

“What is your name?” you asked as you both entered the elevator, leaning heavily on him as he supported the both of you. He chuckled again, breathy as he snaked an arm around you to steady you against his firm body.

His cologne fills your nostrils, smelling deeply of a spicy wooden scent, mixed with a deeper huskier musk and the lighter scent of pomade. You lean into him to take in more of his scent, pressing into him as you look up to him. Holding onto his forearms as you struggle to find your balance again.

“Albert,” he says simply, taking your chin in his gloved hand as he studies your face. You could just barely see his eyes in the dimmed elevator lighting, yours flickering down his lips, before making eye contact again.

He really was a handsome man, a delicious-smelling handsome man.

You snake a hand up his arm to his shoulder, feeling firm muscle under the blazer. You could feel his hands holding your waist, latching onto your hips as you regained your footing. You push up to his face, wanting to feel how his lips feel, consequences be damned.

You lean against him, tippy-toeing as you push on his shoulders to bring him down to you. You misjudged where exactly his mouth was and accidentally kissed his chin before moving up to his waiting mouth. Your eyes close as you press yourself into him, too drunk on alcohol and his scent to care about anything else.

Albert smirked, pleased as he held you against him, letting you leave sloppy kisses on his face. He felt your soft body underneath the sweater dress, lightly pushing up the hem to your ass as he grips your flesh. He swallows your soft needy moans as he loses himself more in your person.

He wasn’t as intoxicated as you were, but he was certainly entranced by the sweet rosy scent of your body oil. The clean floral notes mixed with a deeper musky scent he hadn’t smelled in a long time. The chemical signals in his brain click as he breathes it in more.

Delicious.

The little desperate noises you make as you press into him, feeling along his neck and chest, make him feel hot and desired as he holds you close to him.

A tempting little vixen you are, pulling back as you look into his sunglasses to his hidden eyes, the only thing that matters to you at this moment. Dragging your hands down his shirt to his crotch to rub him over the pants, boldly declaring what you desire from him.

You lean back down, pulling away, content with just teasing and waiting in his arms for the elevator door to open. He dips his head, brushing his nose against your hair, squeezing your side a tad harder.

“Will you join me, darling?” He asks quietly, as the elevator dings and the door opens.

“Join you?” You attempt to move to exit the elevator but he doesn’t move, bringing you close to him again. He presses into you from behind, burying his head into your hair,

“Yes, do you want to join me in my room tonight, dear?” He asked again, pressing you snugly against him, letting you feel everything that he is. The doors close, befuddling you,

“Weren't… we not going to go that..?” you asked innocently, trying to turn back to look at him. He huffed your smell deeply and chuckled breathily into your hair again.

“Of course.” He pressed a different floor button, and the elevator began to rise again.

He held you against him tight, nuzzling into your ear as you leaned back against him, still confused as you arched involuntarily into him, the pleasure buzzing deep in your veins from his hard body.

He moved your hair to the side, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, placing gentle wet kisses, and brushing his nose against the sensitive skin just behind your ear, inhaling deeply as a deep sigh rumbles out of his chest. The sound vibrates into your backside and makes you shiver as his hands begin to roam your body.

He felt up your stomach to just above your ribs, pulling you into him, as his other hand traveled down to your thighs. He presses patterns into the exposed skin just under the hem of your dress as he lightly ruts against the cleft of your ass.

He’s grunting into your ear, as he dragged his hand up ever so slightly to just below your breasts. Just when you think he’s going to touch you, the elevator dings again. The doors opened and he pulled back unwillingly, out of breath.

A little whine ripped out your throat before you could think about it and he’s pulling you along, past the other guests waiting for the elevator. You’re stumbling from the inhuman strength of his pulling but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

He pulled out a keycard and swiped it several times at his room door before the door opened, and he’s pulling you in.

The room was dim, and as soon as the door closed, he was back on you again. This time, he’s kissing you hard, pushing you against the wall next to the door. He eagerly tasted your sweet breath, and breathed in your sweet scent, letting out a louder noise than he intended. A low guttural noise that travels straight down your body to your core.

Hearing him needy for you coaxes out soft little whines as you get swept into his passion. Trying to pull him closer to you as you both move in tandem. He pushed, you pulled. You pushed, and he pulled like waves crashing onto the beach. He doesn’t allow you a single moment to catch your breath as he holds you against the wall, nipping your lip in warning as he presses his thigh betwixt yours.

You eagerly accept his invitation, groaning deeply as you open your mouth to him, trying to rut on his muscular thigh as he rubs his hands up and down your sides. He felt your curves, hand sliding up to hold onto your chest as he pressed his leg harder against your cunt, enjoying the strangled noise you make as he tastes the back of your throat.

He pinched your nipple hard through the dress and your bra and you pulled away with a cry, arching hard as pleasure jolts through your body from his fingertips.

“Too much?” he breathed as he leaned in, kissing your ear and neck, sucking your earlobe as he massages your breast.

“Not enough.” you choked out as you kicked off your heels, and attempted to take his blazer off, he groaned as he shrugged it off quickly, tossing it away as he takes your mouth again, dominating your weak attempt to keep up with him. He swallows every little sound, as he tugged on your dress.

“Darling..” he breathed as you pulled away to catch your breath.

Taking off your jewelry, you tossed it in the direction of your heels, uncaring about where they ended up as you tried to take off the dress too quickly, messing up your hair in the process. You struggled a bit as your arms caught in the dress that’s stuck on your head, getting turned around. You heard him in the background, chuckling as he stepped up eagerly behind you, bringing his hands up to your chest, squeezing your breasts hard as he kissed the exposed part of your nape. The heat of his body on your back, makes you realize he’s undressed too.

“Having trouble, darling?” he says as you squeaked in embarrassment, flushed and overheated, he presses his bare chest into your back as he massages your tits, waiting for your answer.

“I can’t get it off,” you say quietly, as you feel him smile against your neck, squirming as he teases your chest lightly.

“Oh well,” he says as he lifted you up, dragging you to the bed making you squeal in confusion and fear when he tossed you back against the soft covers. He took his time crawling and settling on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, to untangle you from the dress. Albert dragged his hands over your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin of your chest he could.

As he pulls the dress up and over your head, you find he’s still wearing the sunglasses and gloves but his shirt is gone, and his belt is unbuckled. You take in the Adonis of a man before you, wiry and muscular as he leaned back to take you in too. Your arms held captive over your head stuck in that soft temptation of a dress, your matching lingerie and pantyhose hugging your frame nicely.

“There you are, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips and nose against yours and he kissed you deeply. He dragged his hands up your sides and down your stomach, teasing your navel as he revels in the feeling of your soft skin.

“God, darling…” he breathed as he kissed along your jaw, nipping your earlobe, pleased when you cried out and arched into him, trying to get your arms free so you could touch him too.

“Albert,” you whined as he kissed down to your clavicle. He hummed in response, suckling as his hands reached up to squeeze your chest. He bit hard, making you cry out as you tremble from the pain coursing pleasure through your veins. He sucked down hard, reaching behind you to unhook your bra but to his mild surprise, he did not find the hooks. He pulled back as you whined needily for him again.

“The front, the clasp is in the front,” you say as you struggle once again to free your arms, trying to fight the drunken lusty stupor you find yourself in.

Albert says nothing as he unclasps your bra, watching your tits bounce open as they’re free from the bra, enraptured by the beauty of your body. He glances up to your face: to the way your face flushes, to how you bite your lip and look up at him with those eyes. The way you’re helpless against him. Your chest heaves with every bated breath and it’s his turn to flush red.

He didn’t realize how much he wanted this. Wanted you at this moment.

He swooped down to your chest, taking one breast in hand as he sucked hard on the other tit, rolling the nipple between his teeth, making you cry out as he eagerly pleasured your body. You lifted yourself against him, trying to find the friction you so desperately needed against his body. Desperate to touch him in some way. You struggle wildly with the dress, willing to go as far as rip it to free your arms.

He lets out a deep growl as he holds you still, taking his time littering your chest with love bites, thrusting his hardening member against your clothed cunt as best as he can.

“Albert, please..” you begged, as he pulled off your nipple with a pop, turning his attention to the other as he dragged his hand down your stomach to your thighs, pulling them apart. He glanced up to your face, effectively silencing you as he nips and sucks on your tits.

He slid his hand over you, teasing you over the panties; brushing your clit with his fingers.

You can’t look away from his eyes, if you didn’t know any better, you would say they were a bright burning red in the dimmed darkness of the room. Burning you deeply as you’re helpless against this incubus of a man. You needed more and more, finally freeing one of your arms from the dress, reaching down to pull him back up to your face for a kiss.

He pulled you to him, fitting you like a puzzle piece against him, and you’re delirious with desire, rutting against his hard-on like a whore, kissing him desperately, finally able to touch him like he’s been touching you. You absentmindedly dragged your hands over his hair, knocking down his sunglasses accidentally.

He growled and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, making you cry out in genuine pain as he pulled back quickly.

Suddenly and instantaneously, you were flipped in the bed with your face in the sheets, and Albert gripping your hands back over your head. A gasp left your lips as he leaned down to snarl against your ear,

“Don’t do that,” he warned, kissing your neck gently, you nodded eagerly still high off lust and alcohol, completely obedient as you lifted your ass and rubbed against his body wantonly. He laughed a sinister snicker,

“Little whore so eager for me..” he breathed as he leaned back up, watching you shake your ass desperately for him.

“Please, Albert,” you whispered, trying to get him to touch you again.

“Please… What?” You heard the clink of his belt and your heart skipped a beat, hyper-focusing on the slight rustling as he pulled his pants down a little, but what he did was a mystery to you as you arched up in the air for him.

“I need this, I need you.” You’re embarrassed to admit it but it’s true. He chuckles,

“I’m afraid you need to be a little more specific than that, my dear,” he whispers into your ear, rubbing the tip of his head against your clothed ass as he jerks himself nice and slow.

You gasped as you felt the bulbous head rubbing against you, trying to find the words that would allow you to feel him. All of him.

“I.. I want you to fuck me.” You say unabashed, pushing back into him needily. He jerks himself faster, pushing into your panties as he hisses lightly.

“You want me to fuck your nice little ass?” he says, rutting against you with every word.

“Yes! Albert, please… Fuck my little hole!” He settled a bit before he grabbed your hair and roughly yanked you up, reveling in the pleasured cry you made,

“Don’t move, keep your pretty little head down and your ass up like a good little slut. Understand?” He breathed, low and dangerous.

You nod desperately, but he yanked your hair harder,

“I said, understand?”

“Yes! Yes sir!” you keened whorishly, about ready to burst already when he shoved your head back down into the bed and pulled back. There is a sense of loss as he left the bed, but you do as you’re told, head down, ass up.

You can hear him rustling around, searching for something before he sighed and returned, giving a light kiss to your ass before pulling your underwear and pantyhose down, teasing your cunt with his fingers. He poked and prodded at the entrance as he slid his thumb down to your clit, playing you like a musical instrument.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he groaned as he grips and pulls your ass cheeks, slipping his thumb into your opening as he stroked himself. Albert breathed deeply, unable to control himself as he lined himself up eagerly, rubbing his tip against your twitching hole, listening to you gasp, watching you spread your legs wider, pushing back into him needily.

“Such a good little whore.” he hissed as he slowly pushed in, trying to control his breathing and power as he sinks into your warmth.

The sheer girth of his shaft makes you cry out, arching hard against the pained pleasure and making him grunt as he stutters to a complete stop, unable to speak a full sentence as he waits for you to relax again.

“Tight, darling.. So fucking tight.” he breathed, itching to just slam forward, to fuck you as fast and rough as he wants.

“Albert. You’re so big..!” You drawled into the sheets, trembling as he rubbed and kneaded your hips, pushing further into your tightness and drawing a longer whiny moan from you as he hilts himself deep within.

You’re stretched to your limit, needing him to hold still for you as you breathe deeply, trying to push past the burn. He doesn’t though, moving as soon as he felt you relax against him. The drag of cock against your folds, forced a guttural whimper from your throat as he steadied himself with your hips.

He groaned deeply, feeling his pleasure spike into his fingertips and electrocuting his brain. He pulled out slowly, pushing back in, concentrating on keeping control for as long as he could.

You cried desperately needing him to go slow as you lose your mind, the pulsing of your velvety walls milking him as he fucked you. He pushed slowly and deeply as he thrust into your cunt.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well.” His breath hitched as he began to move a little faster, unable to resist the way you feel, practically sucking him in by the cock.

It was all too much and not enough for you, needing to feel him but being overwhelmed by every touch. You gripped onto sheets, unconsciously tightening as you tried to move against him. Albert huffed, breath knocked out of him as he continued, hardening his grip on your hips as he slid a hand up your back to hold you still.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little whore.” he says through clenched teeth but still you rocked against his grip.

“Please, Albert. I need more-!”

He slammed his hips forward, effectively cutting you off as he let himself feel more and more. He held you down as he fucked you hard, controlled thrusts guided by your wet warmth, feeling your cunt tighten and loosen with every plunge of his cock in your pussy.

He stopped being so careful, chasing his high as you cried out for yours.

Albert moved inhumanly fast, pounding and abusing your cunt in the most gratifying way possible. He already hit deep when he was slowly teasing you but as he fucked you harder and harder, he pushed deeper. He pressed you into the mattress roughly, angling you in a way that let him sink deeper into you.

The rough treatment made you see the blinding stars behind your eyelids, as he gripped your flesh hard enough to bruise.

His heavy balls slapped against your clit, rubbing against you pleasurably as he hit that sensitive spot repeatedly.

He grew deathly quiet, focusing on you and your noise, basically holding you exactly how he wanted you. He watched your ass jiggle with every slap of his hips against yours. Watching how you immediately fell apart under his rough touch, unable to say your piece as you sobbed for him.

To keep going?

To stop?

He didn’t know, but he knew he wouldn’t stop, not until he painted your body with his seed. You drooled onto the sheets, widening your legs as he fucked white hot sparks of pleasure up your spine to your brain. The intensity is like fireworks in your nerves, burning you away and replacing you, only to burn you away again.

It was almost natural to try and ground yourself in any way you could, desperately to feel your climax but unable to withstand the onslaught of his brutal pace. Curling your toes, tightening your cunt, body stiffening as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Not even sure what you were saying anymore if you were saying anything at all. Lost at the very tippy top of madness, the very peak of oblivion just a thrust away.

It was almost like he could sense your impending climax as he immediately hauled you onto your knees, lifting you back up by your arms as he shifted on the bed. This new angle was your undoing, he speared your cunt and groaned deep in your ear when you sobbed out the undeniable storm that crashed over you.

For a moment you could not hear nor see nor speak as your entire body burned with the pleasure so intense, it felt like fire scorching your soul.

He pushed you back down onto your face as you were lost in your bliss, still chasing his high as he felt the end approach.

He wanted to cum inside your warmth, to feel that satisfaction but he knew better, pulling out and jerking himself to completion as he panted out praise for your still spasming body. He rubbed his cock over your backside, spreading his cum over your asscheeks, marking you his if only for the night.

He was surprised he lost his breath, genuinely pleased that any sort of physical activity still winded him after his ascension to godhood.

He leaned back, wiping sweat from his face as he looked down upon your ruined beautiful body, still face down in the ruined sheets. He stood, stroking his cock again at the sight of you in his bed before he turned to grab something to clean up.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. You were sure you died and gone to heaven with how waves of mild pleasure still rocked through your heavy numb limbs.

Vaguely you could feel him move around, feel his cooling cum on your ass as you attempted to move, but were unable to move your jellied legs.

You heard him coo at you but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying as you felt him drag a wet cloth on your wet ruined cunt. The cool sensation made you flinch from overstimulation but you hummed in appreciation,

“Dearheart?” he says again and again you make another attempt at speaking, unable to form words at the moment. Only stirring when you have the strength to do so, looking up at his face and being surprised he turned off the lights. You could just barely make out his outline in the city lights from outside, but not much else as he continued to clean you, tossing the rag elsewhere when he was finished.

He said nothing as he shifted you slightly, moving to get into bed with you.

You go to say something but he shushes you, pulling you into his warmth as your alcoholic brain finally shuts off. He was just so warm and you were just so tired.

Consequences and headaches are for the morning after.

[the-blackholeus]

I saw the Bebop X Mutant Reader X Rocksteady and it was AMAZING!! I might have a request for them and this one is a that the reader is a giant sea monster or well mutant and how they met the reader?

( The reader can be a shark that has a tail and fins with hair or a axolotl that has tail and the little antlers around the head with hair or just go for a avatar look like the movie avatar big blue people but instead of black hair it can be blonde or brown, mostly blonde)

Like shredder and his team ( with the boys of course lol ) were going on a mission to make a deal with the reader? Because the reader rules over the ocean in their fantasy land?

This could be a headcanon relationship romantic with bebop x reader x rocksteady

IM SO SORRY THIS IS A LOT ! BTW THIS CAN BE FOR A GENERAL READER OR A FEMALE READER! Love your story’s!!!

Part 1 because this shit doesn't fit in one post.

Shredder heard about you after you sunk an entire ship full of his soldiers and various materials and machines needed for missions in the future.

Understandably, he was beyond pissed at first. But as soon as he heard that there was a mutant behind this, he became intrigued. And once his rage somewhat subsided, he began to do what he could do best. Plan and scheme.

He took an entire team of elite soldiers, Bebop and Rocksteady, left Karai behind to babysit the rest of his clan and set out to find you.

Luckily, it didn't take long. You, being quite territorial of your realm, immediately noticed the intruders in your realm and hindered them by traveling by causing a hurricane, which almost sunk their ship.

The mere fact that they stayed afloat, however, both shocked and angered you, and you decided to deal with them personally, grabbing your trident and swimming towards the massive machine rocking on the ocean's wavy surface.

You emerged soon after, your ginormous form towering over all of them. Your upper body, which was human, glistened with moisture as you straightened your back, your fork-like weapon glistening in your clawed hands as you brought your sharp gaze upon them, your glowing e/c eyes narrowing furiously at their tiny forms.

Shredder was shocked and alarmed, instinctively reaching for his weapons. Bebop and Rocksteady, however, were panicking and screaming. Almost pissing their pants, they immediately tried to run who knows where, their peanut brains thinking that jumping off the boat and into the water would be an excellent escape plan. Of course, it wasn't. With your tentacles, which were attached to the beginning your s/c-scaled shark fin/your hips, easily snatched them and lifted them into the air.

They positively shat themselves at that point.

As your thundering voice asks who dares to enter your domain, both of the mutants panic and point towards Shredder, with Bebop crying out that he is the boss and that it was his idea to come here.

You turned your head towards him and were ready to slaughter them all then and there, but somehow, Shredder managed to talk to you and made you an offer. An offer to provide all protection and material you need if you would work with him. (He made sure that he said with and not for him.)

That actually made you stop in your tracks and consider his words. You had to admit, you did need help. You could not deny the dire state your watery territory was in, and not even you could protect it the way you would like to with all the damage humanity has and was inflicting. As much as you hated to admi it, you could use some hands from above the surface. After only a very short time of thinking, you agreed.

To get on your good side, Shredder immediately organized to build a massive structure in the middle of the ocean which would serve as the headquarters of the mission "Saving the Ocean", where the clan could make direct contact with you.

Bebop and Rocksteady were stationed there immediately and Shredder stayed as well to ensure that they would now screw this entire plan over, keeping a close eye on them as they roamed through the massive fortress.

The two mutants were scared shitless at first. They did not dare to take a step outside their personal quarters or the more isolated rooms when you were above the surface, not wanting to come face to face with you. They were ready to face heavily muscled turtles that were trained in the impressive art of ninjitsu and did not have a problem doing the most vile work, but a massive shark-octopus-human god-like hybrid? FUCK NO. They were drawing a thick line there.

You were amused by this. You came to enjoy to emerge from the sea just when they thought that they were save, watching them scramble towards the door as soon as they notice your massive physic rise from the dark waters. Whenever you heard the piggy squeals and rhino cries, you could not help but chuckle, showing off your razor-sharp teeth as you watched them disappear into a space they deemed safe.

This continued for months, until eventually, Shredder grew pissed with his boys for being such cowards. To punish them and to force them to overcome their fear, he sent them on a mission to retrieve some of the sunken material that you had sent to the bottom of the ocean.

However, knowing they could die down there die since their brain barely seemed to function beyond the necessities, he asked if you if you would volunteer yourself to lead them through your realm. At first, you were going to say no, but on second thought, having these two bumbling idiots around you always improved your mood. It would be quite regrettable if your personal toys were not there anymore, so you promptly agreed.

You could not stop laughing at their ridicules appearance as they were forced into customized diving suits. God, they looked so adorable. Especially Bebop, whose ass stood out due to the fat that is wrapped around his body. (You swore you could see Shredder laugh too)

Once the soldiers literarily threw them into the water, they almost drowned by having a panic attack because oh my god you were swimming right underneath them and your teeth alone were larger than them and they are going to die and blah, blah , blah...

It took a lot of yelling and lecturing from you to calm them the fuck down to at least some extent.

Once you managed to do that (which took forever, you demanded to have them change their oxygen bottles after), you led them towards the shipwreck that you have left behind.

You honestly expected nothing to happen on your way there, believing that these two buffoons were not intelligent or caring enough to notice and admire the ocean's beauty. However, as you passed the coral reef that stood between you and the mess you left behind, they quite literally froze and began to stare.

When you noticed that they were no longer following you, you turned your head and got ready to yell at them for it. But once you saw their big, glowing, curious puppy eyes, you were astonished. You swam back to them and watched as they slowly began to explore the reef, apparently having forgotten about their mission completely.

Eventually, they started to ask questions like "What is that fish called?", "Is this poisonous?" and "That exists?!". And you found yourself to be super happy to answer them, going into details with certain explanations.

After a while, the reason you were down here slipped from your mind as well, and you spend as much time with them under the surface of the ocean as you the oxygen bottles allowed Bebop and Rocksteady to. In the span of a few hours, you taught them as much as you could.

Shredder wasn't too pleased when you all returned empty handed at first, but after seeing that they were now actively speaking to you and not almost killing themselves by trying to get away from you, he decides to let this one slide and is pleased with the outcome of his "exposure therapy". He still gave them a punishment though!

After this, they were starting to dive on their own, regularly visiting you in your home, which was a massive cave in the deeper part of he ocean, to learn more. While it was strange that you had so much..."intelligent" company out of a sudden, you didn't complain. You hadn't realize how much you missed talking to people until you had these two idiots around you.

This went on for a few weeks, and they unironically learned so much from you. Over time, they became something akin to experts on what is going on beyond the watery surface. Whenever you were swimming with them, full-blown conversations evolve from spotting any kind of interesting creature or coral. Of course, they were still massive idiots in any other category.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

The photo of hazzy boo in the red blazer is giving me soft rich kid haz vibes 😩 like he was dreading his mum dragging him to a luncheon but he met you and you two just hit off from the get go

omg YES im all about richkid!hazzy boo and i need to write this now bye

cw: richkid!haz, richkid!reader, weed, language, smut (fingering, general obsession with haz's hands)

***

There's jackshit to do in Berkshire.

Not that Harrison would complain. He'd be more than happy to walk the manor grounds and hide out with a book and a spliff --that definitely beats a grand luncheon his mother practically dragged him to attend.

It'll be good, she said. You can never start networking too early.

But Harrison's been at this event for half an hour and he's filled up his quota for small talk for the day. He slips out of the banquet hall, looking for a peaceful cigarette break, when he hears a quiet fuck! from behind a corner pillar.

"You didn't see anything!" you come out of hiding, putting out what seems to be a cigarette and fixing up your flowy blue dress, finding this unfamiliar boy with an unlit cigarette between his lips.

God, he's cute. Like something out of 80's Vogue with his red blazer and wide-collared shirt. And of course it's just your luck to meet him when you're high off your kite.

He takes out his cigarette to say something, but you cut him off.

"You did not see anything," you repeat, more threatening than the first time.

"I--" he raises his hands in surrender, not getting what you mean at first, and then catches the unmistakable smell in the air. "Are you smoking--"

"Problem? Because I don't know you, but I'll find out and you're not gonna like what I'm gonna do to you if you rat--"

"Relax! I was just wondering if I can have some," he chuckles, his light shrug a stark contrast to your standoffish stance.

"Oh," you simply respond. Feeling a bit dumb that you were ready to throw hands for nothing. You sit on the steps and pat the empty spot next to you wordlessly.

He follows suit and takes the blunt you offered, putting it between his lips. And she's quick to reach for her zippo, leaning in to light it for him.

"Sorry about earlier. Most people are pricks here --they're just dying to see me fuck up," you try to explain, your voice softening a bit.

"Nah, I gotcha." he's quick to brush it off. Quiet, as he takes a deep drag and hands it back to you. "I'm Harrison."

A smile sneaks up on the corner of your lips. You put the joint there and shake his hand. "Y/N."

He repeats your name to himself, and you secretly think it's adorable how he does it.

"So what brings you out here, Harrison?"

"To Berkshire or this... courtyard?" he motions at the manicured topiary around them.

"Both."

"My mum insisted I come out here. Somehow. But it's so fucking stuffy in there, innit?"

You burst out laughing. "Oh God, you're so right! It is stuffy as fuck in there..."

You spend a good half an hour just shitting on everybody you met in the luncheon (Harrison even accidentally shat on your father, but you loved it. He is a right prick.) In the span of maybe 20 minutes, you're giggling and bantering and flirting like you've known each other your whole life.

"So what are you up to?" Harrison asks.

"Now? I'm finishing up my joint with this fucking dude I just met," you quip without missing a beat, sending him into a fit of laughter.

"No, man. I mean, like.. in life."

"Ah, fuck if I know. But I do know this..." you pause, mostly for dramatic effect but also for some time to gather your thoughts. "I'm feeling a bit snacky, so I'm gonna nip some hors d'oeuvre, maybe a bottle of champagne. Wanna come?"

Harrison chuckles, but it dies down as he watches you stand up and pack up your zippo into a metal case and tucks it in your thigh garter.

"Shit. What are you, a spy? What else have you got in there?" he casually blurts out, shamelessly eyeing the slit in your dress.

"Why don't you go ahead and find out?" you stretch your exposed leg teasingly.

"Seriously?" He gulps. His thumb absently strokes your ankle, right where your shoe strap is digging in.

"Mm-hm," you quietly nod, meeting his ocean blue eyes.

Harrison drags his hand up your calf, drawing loops on the back of your knee and inner thigh. The coldness of his rings makes you shiver as he finds the cigarette box on your garter, a stark contrast to the silky warmth just a little further up. Right on your folds.

"You're not wearing anything underneath?" he gapes, his mouth salivating as he says that out loud.

You shake your head.

The next thing you know, Harrison shoots up to his feet and pins you against the white stucco wall, devouring your lips as his fingers slip through your wet folds and relieve your swollen clit.

Your nipples harden under his ministration, and he can't resist peeling down the spaghetti straps and bending down to suck at your marvelous tits.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathes out as he plunges a finger inside you.

A desperate moan escapes your lips and his free hand is quick to fly up to your mouth, muffling your beautiful sounds. Another fingers slips inside, stretching you and scissoring you so good, you feel like blacking out.

He hits your sweet spot and you bite back another moan, tearing off his hand on your mouth and replacing it with, well, his mouth. His thumb comes into play and you just feel enshrouded by him. His hand on your core, his body-- his lips against yours. He closes in like he knows what to do with you and presses on until you explode, convulsing and writhing in silent pleasure.

And moments later, you start fixing up your hair and your dress and your makeup, as Harrison stands dazed, forehead pressing into yours, fingers still snug between your legs.

You slip his hand away, taking it to your mouth and smearing it on your lips. "Why don't we... take this upstairs, hmm?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out as your mouth closes in on each finger, sucking all your juices til it's clean. His bright eyes darken, and he simply groans out a yes. He is hard under his trousers and you can't wait to see, to taste, to feel what's underneath.

"Meet me by the stairs in the East Wing in 3 minutes. I'll be back with champagne." you kiss him on the corner of his mouth and saunter away.

And it's a little fucked up to remember his mum in that exact moment, but Harrison looks up to the sky and thinks,

Thank fuck he came along to Berkshire.

[realcube]

nurse’s office || tobio kageyama x reader

summary: you visit your boyfriend - tobio kageyama - in the nurse’s office after hinata spiked a ball directly at his face

tw// blood, swearing, mentions of violence 

You rushed down the hallway, jacket half on and half waving around as a cape behind you while still stuffing your supplies from the previous class into your handbag as you ran. 

Yes, ran. One of the hall monitors tried to get you to slow down by shoving their arm out in front of your path but you simply swerved them; nothing was going to stop you from getting to your stupid blueberry boyfriend. 

Also, the fact that you were mad too made your expression ten times more threatening and dark so if the hall monitor did somehow get you stop, he would’ve immediately regretted it.  

Your all-around aggressive demeanour was probably the reason that girls like Yachi were simping for you and boys like Hinata shat their pants whenever you were in a 10 foot radius of them. And due to your need to constantly make snarky remarks - yet the paired with the inability to receive them without getting your feelings hurt - it was almost inevitable that you’d end up with someone like Kageyama.

Eventually, you reached the door of the nurse office; a place that was all too familiar as you’d sit in there for hours holding and icepack to your bloody nose or your black eye after getting in another fight with some braindead scum who tried to two-time one of your friends - which was a shamefully often occurrence. 

You chapped on the door; not something you’d usually do but you’d rather knock than walk in during his check-up. “Bakeyama..” You grumbled, pulling out a pocket mirror from your purse to check if you had ruined your lipgloss - which you hadn’t. “Can I come in?”

It took a moment but then you were finally greeted by the angelic noise of Kageyama groaning from the other side of the door, “Eh, no. Go away.” 

You giggled, a sweet smile graced your perfectly glossed lips as you shoved your pocket mirror away, pushing the door open as you sung in your best ‘lovely girlfriend’ voice, “I’m coming in, baby.” Which resulted in you immediately being met by Kageyama roaring, “Boke! I said go away!”

You rolled your eyes, slipping through the doorway and promptly closing it behind you, your expression immediately dropping into a frown as you realised Kageyama was in a situation you were quite familiar with. He was sitting on the ‘bed’ - which was in fact a regular duo school desk with a duvet and pillow on it - with tissues sticking out from his bleeding nostrils. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, king - it’s not like you haven’t seen mine like..a hundred times.” 

Kageyama didn’t understand most things but your statement especially perplexed him, “Seen what a hundred times? Your panties?” That was the most obvious conclusion he could come to but if that was what you meant - as much as he wished it was - it wouldn’t be true. 

His question precipitated a burst of heat to erupt on the tips of your ears, slowly flowing from there to cover your cheeks, leading to you hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment, “Stupid! No! I meant my bloody nose!” 

Kageyama nodded, unable to stifle a laugh at how cute you looked while flustered, “Ah, okay.” He hummed, trying to admire your blushing face but your hands shielding his view made it a challenge. “I like your nails.”

You paused, removing your hands from your face and turned them around to look at your plain, unmanicured nails. You shot your boyfriend a puzzled look, “Huh? But they’re not even done.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Kageyama sighed, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. “I just wanted you to move your hands so I could see your face.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, about to give him a scolding for not applying those sort of problem solving skills to his schoolwork but he began speaking again before you even got the chance to open your mouth, “How did you even know I was here?”

You hummed in thought before pulling out your phone, inputting your PIN then opening IMessage to show Kageyama the texts that Hinata sent you.

You impatiently rolled your eyes as Illiteracyama took what felt like a millennium to read those two messages, “I figured you were in the nurse’s office because the tangerine wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.” 

Kageyama nodded, finally averting his gaze from the phone as an indication that he had finally finished reading the messages, “Yeah, okay. You should respond though, he’s probably shitting himself right now thinking that you’re going to beat him up or something.”

“Why would he think I’d do that?” You innocently inquired, checking you lip-gloss in your front camera again - it was basically second nature at this point. 

“I don’t know. He’s just a pussy, I guess. The rest of the team aren’t intimidated by you at all.” Kageyama mused, recalling how fond most of the team were of you when you first met them at a match.

You simply shrugged, closing your camera and opening IMessage back up, typing the most reassuring response you could think of. It was a struggle because everything you said could’ve came off as threatening depending on how he interpreted it but you ultimately settled with:

After you placed your phone back into your into your purse, you turned your attention back to Mr bloody nose sat in front of you. After a moment of exchanging an intense gaze with him, you burst out laughing, causing Kageyama to quirk up an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

You tossed your head back in bliss, wiping tears of joy away from your eyes, “You look so cute with the tissues- and the nose-” You were hardly able to  form a whole, cohesive sentence through your wheezes.

Your choice of words being ‘cute’ to describe him set his cheeks aflame, “I-jus-you-” he stammered, not sure how exactly to respond, thus he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Fuck off.”

You paid no attention to his comment and eventually you cackles died down to nothing but light pants accompanied by a gleeful smile. “Yeah,” You breathed, glancing at the time displayed on the clock by the door, “I should probably get going - unless you’d miss me to much.” You cooed, pulling out your pocket mirror again to make sure your tears didn’t ruin your lashes. 

“You wish.” Kageyama smirked, always having felt respect for how much effort and dedication you put into your makeup and image - it kinda made him want to care about his appearance more but then again, why would he want to put in the extra time in the morning to spike his hair rather than doing something more productive like.. practising sets?

“How long until you’re allowed to leave? Did the nurse tell you?” You inquired out of curiosity, slipping on the other sleeve of your jacket which had apparently been hanging off this whole time.

Kageyama subconsciously extended his arm out intertwine his fingers with yours as he wracked his brain for the answer, “I think she said I can go home when a family member comes to pick me up - which is stupid because I am literally fine to walk home myself but she said it had to do with protocol and stuff.” He trailed off closer to the end of his sentence, his hoarse voice lowering drastically. 

“Yeah.” You mused, rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand as you glanced around the room in search of anything you might’ve accidentally dropped but the coast seemed clear. “Anyway, um, bye!” You chirped, leaning in to peck him on the lips as you’d usually do but they were currently covered the long pieces of tissue hanging out his nose. So, instead you craned your neck upwards to plant a kiss on his forehead before letting go of his hand, turning on your heels and heading out.

“Bye.” Kageyama grumbled in response. 

You gently closed the door behind you and strolled over to the gates of the school at your own pace, you took a longer route though so you didn’t have to pass the hall monitor you veered around on your way to the nurse’s office.

Upon arriving at the gates of the school to start your journey home, you felt your purse vibrate so you pulled out your phone, examining the lockscreen for the notification. It was a text from Kageyama. Of course that piqued your interest so you opened it immediately, the text in question causing a light blush to cross your features.

You smiled; everything about this was just hilarious to you.

Firstly, of course Kageyama’s first time saying ‘I love you’ was going to be over text. And you couldn’t blame him either, it’s an intimidating thing to say aloud so you were just glad he had the balls to say it over IMessage.

Secondly, you were very proud of Illiteracyama for being able to spell such a hard set of words in so little time as it had only been around 4 minutes since you left the nurse’s office - this must be a new personal record for him. 

And last but not least, the cherry on top, it was followed by this extremely charming and persuasive message. 

You burst out laughing on the spot and luckily there was nobody around to judge you. Oh, the joy Kageyama would make you feel after saying the most simple things - it was almost like his superpower; besides his killer sets.

Wiping another tear from your eye, you typed your response with weak fingers. 

[vrisrezis]

I keep rq a lot but i have too many ideas fkfnwk matsu brothers with an intimidating reader like theyre buff n shit

Keep requesting away anon! :D

Osomatsu loves complimenting you on your strong arms and muscles, and flirting with you constantly. He lives for having such an intimidating s/o because now people just fear being around you and him, that means people clear the lines to get food and shit, you are extremely convenient for him. He loves hugging you as well, he’s extremely fat and you’re extremely buff so cuddling is fun.

Karamatsu is admittedly a tiny bit jealous he isn’t as beefy as you are but yknow. Constantly compliments you on your appearance as well. You guys are funny because karamatsu is one of the most least intimidating people ever and then there’s just you and you’re terrifying. Thing is you both scare people away, you because you’re terrifying and him because he’s so fucking painful. Nonetheless though, he thinks you’re wonderful even if a lot of people are intimidated by you at first glance.

Choromatsu almost pissed himself the first time he met you, it’s crazy to him he’s even dating somebody like you. You’re great and he adores you, also you can always protect him if need be. Secretly loves how beefy you are, but he never comments on it because he’s too embarrassed. Whenever you’re around he finds his entire face going red, you’re probably even scarier around Choromatsu because he tends to be an easy target, not only that but even he looks terrified being around you (it’s only cause he thinks you’re hot as hell though)

You and Ichimatsu are a force to be reckoned with. Between his dark stare and aura and just your.. big beefy arms.. piercings and tattoos.. You guys can intimidate so easily, he really doesn’t mind having somebody like you around but when you first met he almost shat his pants lol. Loves cuddling you and having your strong arms around him. Halloween is the funniest time for the both of you because it’s so easy to scare other people, you don’t even have to dress up for the occasion. All in all though? Pretty great for ichi.

Jyushimatsu likes having a buff s/o because like … good at throwing baseballs.. it’s fun.. he’s also not very intimidating so y’all make for a funny duo. You’re practically his body guard at this point. Give him piggy back rides and let him cling onto your arm he loves that shit! He will compliment you on your arms and just how buff you are from time to time, they’re innocent compliments I promise (unlike Osomatsu tbh lol) he likes doing active stuff with you too, which is good to keep both of y’all in shape !

Todomatsu loves it because he never has to worry about randomly being attacked or some shit lol. Loves posting you on his social media, people are always surprised to see you both together. You’re so scary and he’s so cute, it’s an interesting duo to say the least. His favorite thing is just doing very cute things with you because you look so scary (likes taking pictures of you holding cats and cute stuff or just taking cute photos of the both of you wearing matching coupley shirts or something, it’s funny)