#and you've skinned your knees chasing after those who don't look back
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tw: dubcon, alcohol, mild stalking
landlord! simon who lives below you on the ground floor, who has a direct view of the building entrance and sees you leave and return everyday. you usually greet him when you pass him in the hallways, but lately you've been avoiding him because you're a few months late on rent. it's flight for you when you chance upon him, and he has to hold back the predatory instinct to chase you down when you flee like a bunny rabbit.
landlord! simon who attempts to practice patience; he understands you're a busy, busy girl with her college degree, and money isn't easy to get by nowadays. he notices you return home late one night, dressed in pantyhose and a skimpy skirt, stumbling around in heels as you struggle to enter the building. he's never seen you drunk before- in fact it's probably the first time you've ever partied- you've always been more of a homebody, after all.
landlord! simon who inhales shakily when you bend over to pick up the keys you dropped, unconsciously teasing the growing hard-on behind his jeans. you're not wearing any panties, and he wonders if you're doing this on purpose...
landlord! simon knocks on your door– unsure if it's because of his lust or concern– and asks for you to open up. you obey, like the good tenant you are, and look up at him with hazy eyes.
landlord! simon whom you invite into your apartment (because you're oh so kind, can't leave your landlord waiting outside, right?). but somehow it leads to you on your knees, his leaking cock stuffed down your throat as you try to take him all, his fingers curled in your hair.
landlord! simon who pushes you against the kitchen counter, holding your waist as you bend your ass over for him so prettily, still leaking through your pantyhose as you stand on tippy toes. he has to crouch over you, hands on your inner thighs as he teases your slit, the pantyhose a barrier preventing his finger from pushing into you entirely. still, it elicits a sweet whimper that has his hair standing on end.
landlord! simon who rips the thin black material apart to access your leaking pussy, muttering 'bout how he'll replace anything he shreds, like those lace panties you just got (you don't question how he knows about your new purchase.) the older man stuffs you full, just right, and easily lifts you up by the waist to pound into you as you whimper and moan so sweetly for him, taking it all. your feet are levitating off the floor, toes curling as your hands push plates and bottles off the counter. you're creaming around him, sound of skin on skin filling the apartment.
landlord! simon whom you drag into your bedroom, who folds your knees to your chest, pressing his thumbs into the pit of the back of your knees. eats you out enthusiastically as you squeal and shake, singing his name but doesn't let you finish on his tongue, no, his sweet tenant deserves better. your landlord reminds you that he owns this building and owns you while his face is buried in your neck.
landlord! simon nips and bites your skin, laughing at how you won't be able to go outside because of these marks, showing the neighbours who you belong to. you're clamping down so hard on him as he sucks on your nipple, your eyes fixed on each other even when you breathlessly kiss each other, pupils dilated with lust. you're crying his name so loudly the other tenants in the building certainly can hear it all, but when you're stuffed so full and deeply it doesn't matter, does it?
landlord! simon who murmurs how he's close breathily in your ear, overstimulating you with the harsh rhythm he set from the start. you brokenly beg for him to breed your pussy, and he grunts and moans deeply as you ramble desperately, needing it, wanting it, to please please please empty everything into you. and who is he to deny his bunny's sweet request..?
content ⓒ whrenches. do not reproduce, use for ai bots, edit, reupload, plagiarise or share to third party sites. all rights reserved.
#𝜗𝜚#cod#cod mw2#cod mw3#cod x reader#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley smut#ghost x you#ghost smut#tw: dubcon#tw: alcohol
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alice in borderland — ryohei arisu “apology"
contents : suggestive themes, smut
a/n: before the year 2023 ends, i am ending it with a bang
His hands always work like magic, thin yet calloused from the hours he always spent on playing are so gentle and hesitant whenever they'd touch you. Featherlight and soft like a gentle whisper.
You've known him as someone who is always beneath you, eager to please with his whole being. It's sweet really, appreciation and love always emits from you whenever you see him—it is simply his charm that's why you fell in love.
And yet, you know for a fact that he isn't a push over.
"Hmm.. like that.." Arisu hums, watching your reaction with that observant gaze that seemingly calculates and take into mind your every actions.
Rough and calloused fingers tremble a rhythm that only the both of you are familiar with—drawing that sweet and melodious sound that airs from the back of your throat as he pulls another chord of pleasure from within.
The slick shwop shwop fills the air between you two, his long fingers deep within and reaching the depths that you don't know you have. Aided by the smooth jell that now lays on the other side of the bed, Arisu faced no difficulty.
One.
Two.
"Think you can take another, angel?" He breathes from the crook of your neck, eyes watching as his fingers enter and exit. His voice is tender and patient but the way he fills you up so good is rather rough and fast.
His words are murmured on your skin, damp and sweaty because of him.
Please please please— you couldn't count how much you've come already, how many times he has taken from you.
Damn Arisu. Your thighs are parted, body arching from the mattress and mind blurred like a foggy night that you could see stars in your vision. For how long will he keep at it?
You couldn't even close your thighs shut because of his body in between and the way his arm is kept on your abdomen prevents you from escaping. "I think.. yeah.." He decides for you, pressing a sweet chaste kiss on your neck.
Three.
There is no space left for him. It's too much. You could feel the smile that breaks through his face against your skin. "It's too much?" He echoes—you have been too far gone to think that you said it aloud.
Purple, pink and red, you are like a canvas painted with melodies of colours and he is the artist responsible for it.
"After teasing me while I was playing.. this is an act of mercy." He whispers, lifting his head to kiss your cheek.
Arisu couldn't help it, the way you look so dazed and drunk under him, your fingers finding purchase into whatever you have in your arsenal—clenching on the sheets of his bed, it looks so lovable.
"Won't you say you're sorry?" His tone is so sweet, he's so kind that you would've never guessed how he can also be rough with you.
"Anh..!" Arisu. Arisu. Arisu, the name that falls from your lips repeatedly like a mantra. "Say you're sorry, angel." He repeats, curling those fingers to press against that spot that has your knees trembling and hips gyrating against his palm.
There's so much power and control that he has over you. You've been going on for seemingly an eternity that your carnal desires beg for him already.
You stutter as you felt your knot builds up, "P-please.. 'm sor- mhmm..!" But how could you continue when he dived in to lick your chest—warm and wet muscle hitting the pert bud.
There's a grin on his face now, smug and proud. "Go on." He encourages you, if you just look down, you'd see how desperate he is for you too.
Hips humping at the bed, there's a puddle of stain on his boxers that indicates how much he needs you. He couldn't help it, not when his pretty angel is all parted for him, like a present.
"I-mm .. 'm sorry..!"
Then the dam breaks once again for the nth time. Eyes hitting the back of your head as you part from the mattress but he holds you down with his arms as you squirm and chase that high that insistently pulls you.
Your sensitivity reaches its peak but those damn motions just won't stop. Arisu still continues to finger you through your high as high pitched moans fall from your lips.
Your head is thrown back, chest panting and legs turning numb as Arisu continues to hold you down. Eyeing how much you enjoyed yourself and how pretty you are.
"It's not enough, you need to be more sincere."
He brings you to a new height, allowing you to be able to feel more of him from the erotic position. He lifted one of your legs to his broad shoulder, pressing a light and chaste kiss on your ankle before taking out his fingers to grant you the mercy you deserve from the long time he has been inside and fiddling within your walls that has kept his lithe fingers warm and aching for more.
"Now then.." Arisu breathes, now eagerly pulling the band of his boxers down, "Let's try again."
#gender neutral reader#arisu ryohei x reader#alice in boderland x reader#alice in borderland x you#alice in borderland#aib x you#aib x reader#arisu x reader#aib smut
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seeing a lot of asks regarding poly daniil and artemy and I'd love to join in too. i think it would be real funny if whenever daniil or artemy fought with eachother they used the reader as some type of relief, can be nsfw or sfw.
the idea of them getting all angry over the other only for both of them to use the same person as some type of break is a bit funny.
Could I interest you in some modern au?
Fluff
They've been at it for hours.
You'd think three grown adults could easily come to a compromise when it comes to a trival matter as picking a movie to watch, especially two whole doctors who save lives on the daily.
Apparently not.
You groan against the pillow you've been hugging, burying your face into it as Daniil and Artemy's voices somehow become even louder as they attempt to talk over each other.
This is even worst than the time Daniil thought it was a brilliant idea to take Artemy tie shopping, or that other time Artemy left the front door open and his pet—the family's pet bull managed to get inside and left a very clear–and smelly–personal statement on Daniil's leather shoes.
Since when did either of them even care about movies or watching TV at all?
Maybe it was the "baby shark" music video Murky kept on loop all morning, which fried their brain, and now control over the TV remote is one short hill they'll certainly die on.
This is it, you're too done with those two gaint babies. With a quick motion you snatch the remote from the No Man's land coffee table and click on the first option you see. Announcing that this is the movie now, they've both lost their chances and since you have the remote it means you get to decide.
...What you didn't realise was that all they heard is "whoever gets the remote will decide" You know, the current remote in your hands.
All sense of decorum is thrown out the window as the Bachelor of Medicine himself gives you a polite smile before bouncing on you like a snake chasing after a mouse.
Your back slamming against what felt like a gaint bear, Artemy's hand akin to a claw as it easily envelopes your own with the remote and keeps it out of reach from Daniil's grubby fingers.
The two are in a standoff with you in the middle.
In an instant, you're pulled closer from opposite directions and tugged around, their hands gunning for the prize held tightly in your own, only for the other man to immediately pull you out of reach.
Daniil's hair is a complete mess. The usual combed style black strands each developed a mind of their own as they faced completely different directions. The catty man is this close to resort to biting Artemy's hand away, which keeps a steel grip against yours on the remote.
Meanwhile, this hulking surgeon is struggling not to slide off of the couch from Daniil suddenly cornering you against him at the far end. He considers pulling the remote–alongside your hand–under his sweater to protect them from Daniil's unusually sharp fangs.
-
Smut
Of course the two most petty men to have walked the face of the earth couldn't have left their disagreement at the door when bedtime rolled around.
Now it's Artemy's teeth grazing your neck, so much for giving Daniil shit for biting his hand when he himself isn't sparing a single patch on your skin without marking it in some way or form.
You try to adjust your legs, but Daniil keeps them secured against his shoulder, face buried directly between your thighs. Kissing alongside your sensitive spots, looking incredibly smug for a man on his knees as he swallows down the remains of your cum.
They're unbelievably stubborn as they use your body to settle their argument. You don't think they even remember which movie they originally wanted to pick. At this point, it's too personal for them to back down.
God Daniil's mouth is relentless, to think Artemy's cock was stretching you open not a minute ago and now it's replaced by the Bachelor's tongue.
You feel Artemy's semi-hard against your back, grinding against you as. His arms wrapped around you so tenderly as if he wasn't just using your as his personal fleshlight, setting a merciless pace as he bounced you up and down his cock.
The taste of Daniil's cum is still thick on your tongue, as if he deliberately made sure to be the last to finish inside your throat so you may spend the rest of the night thinking of him. So you can taste nothing but his cum even as Artemy's cock stretches you open.
One minute, they're intense and passionate as they fill your holes and flood your brain with pleasure so much it's borderline painful.
The next they're soft and gentle as they lick your bruised skin and press kisses against your temple, massaging your shaking thighs, Daniil's honeyed words of reassurance washing over you, putting you into an almost trance of wanting to obey and please him.
Artemy's embrace making you feel so safe, being held by him, protected by your husband who will never let anything bad touch you in this world.
Daniil's sinfully angelic moans as you ride him, how pretty he looks with his hair sprawled on the pillow, framing his face as he holds intense desire in his eyes.
Artemy's hands guiding your hips, making you grind down until Daniil's cock is pressing against that rough patch of skin inside you, how easy it is for him to move your body around and lift your hips up and down.
#♧poly#♧Daniil#♧Artemy#♧x reader#♧fluff#♧smut#daniil dankovsky x reader#artemy burakh x reader#x reader#gn reader#pathologic x reader#pathologic smut#pathologic fluff
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My ugly notes app monster that sucks so bad and I will probz delete when I wake up tomorrow
It's okay if you don't understand. I know you're not the brightest, I'll dumb it down for you. So-
She starts whining about not being dumb. I grab her hair and yank her head back, making her look straight into the water-damaged ceiling.
I don't appreciate being interrupted, especially when I'm trying to be nice.
I'm sure you've heard this before, but you've always been more beauty than brains. Sadly, you're not much of a looker.
I sigh and let go of her hair.
Her face is all scrunched up now; puffy, wet, disgusting. She buries it into her knees.
She tries to hide, to look brave, but I can tell she's trying not to cry from the way her shoulders shake – as erratic as her breathing; she won't be able to calm down no matter how hard she tries. I know this because I know her. I know she'll keep trying, dumb as rocks; unable to see past her own nose.
The knots aren't that tight– I left them a bit loose on purpose, hoping she'd try to escape so I'd have an excuse to chase her, push her down, really scare her, but it turns out I overestimated both her intelligence and her will to live.
She was so pretty, so lovely just a few hours ago, when I was still having second thoughts about all this, when my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my glass, when she was still smiling and looking at me fondly – like I was something worth looking at. No one had ever looked at me with such affection – any affection! – before, and that's how I knew she was kind! Kind, and pretty, and lovely, and so, so devastatingly stupid; so perfect and so easy for me to take, to ruin and rebuild into something even prettier – something better.
I sit down in front on her. She looks pale; sickly. Is her skin cold and clammy, or is she running hot and sweaty from the adrenaline? I can see for myself now, I no longer need to wait or ask. I reach for her ankle, slowly, trying not to scare her.
Clearly, it doesn't work; she tries to kick me off with far too much force, flailing and losing her balance, making herself fall over and hit her head – thud! – on the concrete floor.
I lean over, placing my hands on the ground so I can look at her face – the parts not covered by her hair, anyway. She spares me a single glance, then shuts her eyes tight and starts shaking all over again.
I raise my voice, louder than she's ever heard it before:
You lied to me! You told me I looked just fine, all those times – all those times, you lied to me!
She flinches and tries to deny it, but her voice comes out weak, and her eyes are still shut tight.
I didn't think it'd actually work.
Don't you lie to me again, don't you dare lie!
I lower my voice back to its regular volume. I make sure to sound incredulous, offended:
You can't even look at me.
She takes a big breath, but doesn't say anything. I can tell she's trying to calm down using breathing techniques.
I stay quiet for a bit, still looking down at her, and wait until her breathing's calmed down enough that she's not on the border of hyperventilation anymore before speaking again, now in the low, pitiful whisper she's always known:
Am I really so unseemly? Tell me. Please look at me. Please tell me I'm not.
(END OF CHUNK. WHO CARES)
And now all I've got is a crumpled mess of a girl, clothes and hair almost as dirty as the floor she lays on– I haven't cleaned the place in weeks. I know how important hygiene is to her, after all.
(END OF CHUNK. WHO CARES)
Stop fucking crying, you're ruining your make-up. I'm not into the whole "broken" look with the running mascara anymore. We've done it so much I thought you'd also be tired of at this point.
Seriously?
Your throat's dry because you refuse to ask for help. I'm the only one that can help you, you know? I have no way of knowing what you need unless you tell me. You need to ask for it.
-----
Why should I bring it to you? Where's your manners?
Please, -----
Okay, that's better.
I'm not getting you anything, though. Why? Are you stupid? You keep crying and crying and whining until your throat hurts – and you think you deserve water? How do I know you won't just waste it again?
I'm leaving, I'm too tired to deal with such an entitled little brat right now.
Maybe you should learn how to play nice and be grateful– yes, GRATEFUL, and quit interrupting me before I beat the shit out of you again. I work all day, you know that? I work day in and day out so I can make you prettier – we both know you need it.
Beauty's expensive, are you kidding? Then again, I keep overestimating your cognitive abilities, so I shouldn't be so surprised.
I work all day, every day, and then I come down here to be happy, to relax by looking at something nice – and I find you a disgusting mess, make-up ruined, snot all over your face, and still I try to be nice to you. I might even be going a bit soft. I can tell you've been pulling your hair out again, but I still bring you the foods you like.
Spoiled? I don't see how that makes any difference.
I toss away anything that's gone bad – and yet I keep the ugliest, nastiest and most rotten piece of meat around, even though it fucking reeks.
I'm being nice. I'll only say this once.
I suggest you stop telling me what to do with my trash.
(END OF CHUNK. WHO CARES)
You'd be prettier if you knew how to behave.
#diary#unsan#yes it sucks but my 4 AM brain is telling me to share whatever I've written last for once#and by ''last'' I mean like. tonight. heart#oc talk#much to think about#<- decided to keep this ugly thang as-is. not even fixing any typos I hope it dies#wroted
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Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #26
It’s that time again! The Wednesday Radio prompt list!
Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!
Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!
God knows what is real and what is fake
If this old heart could talk, it'd say you're the one
you think nobody sees what you're doing to me
I'm hanging outside your door I've been here before,
You can't take back what you said
Such a saint but such a whore
And baby, you're the one for me
Your love for me, somethin' I didn't see
All these years I've been chasing down the answers
lights out on every street
I should have shut my mouth, things headed south
And now it's clear to me That everything you see Ain't always what it seems
Crashing from the high
One forgotten phone call
Doesn't matter how long it's been I know you'll always jump in
I hate what you've done, what you've made me become
Built a home and watched it burn
Too hard to breathe, I'm on my knees
It was great at the very start
I should have drove all night Would have run all the lights,
I was falling hard With an open heart
Starless sky
Last couple years have been a mad trip
Oh, these little rejections How they add up quickly
Now we're picking fights and slamming doors
It's overrated, just get another drink
How did I read the stars so wrong?
Oh the bond is deeper than skin
When you walk in the room that very night A special feelin' just burst inside
If I could turn back time, you'd still be mine
And now you're back inside my house again
One forgotten birthday
Play like the top one percent Til nothing's left to be spent
There's nobody left but the two of us
I wish I knew then, what I know now, Wouldn't dive in, wouldn't bow down
You learn love from Charlie Sheen
No remorse, no regret
I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
But how'd y'all look so perfect?
I'm holding onto heaven
You must have some portraits in the attic
I'm telling you guilt is in your eyes
Dark clouds, dark clouds in every sky
Yeah, I was in the dark
I picked up every piece And landed on my feet
'Til I woke up on, on the concrete
But I don't know where it is that you've been hiding
All those years we spent alone
sleeping on the couch that night
God knows that I tried Seeing the bright side
I stumbled like my words Did the best I could,
Sell your sin, just cash in
There must be life after tragedy
You found me passed out in the yard again
We'll stay offline so no one gets hurt
Hiding from the real world
Couldn't stand to be far apart
We fucked this house up like the planet
If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
Take away your things and go
I'm not spending any time, wasting tonight on you
I've heard it all before, at least a million times
So well-trained, so animal
Live streaming the final days of Rome
It was just something in your eyes
Crazy that some people still deny it
Everything that made you great only made you bad
One tab along, it's pornographic
Tell me all your original sins
It was only you, nobody else
Why we keep coming back for more
So many questionable choices
We're gonna close the curtains
Are we both losing our minds?
Here 'til the morning breaks us
We run away from real life, thoughts tonight
Don't want to love you if you don't love me
Is the only reason you're holding me tonight 'Cause we're scared to be lonely?
We're gonna stay naive tonight
Fall into the night with you
We're gonna choose the blue pill
#mike duarte#joe velasco#terry bruno#joe milius#will trent#alden parker#nick torres#frankie morales#benny miller#jimmy lanik#sam abrams#crockett marcel#connor rhodes#bishop losa#chibs telford#tig trager#herman kozik#nero padilla#michael riz ariza#neron creeper vargas#hank loza#ez reyes#angel reyes#marcus alvarez#bottles googles#oa zidan#stuart scola#jubal valentine#remy scott#nestor oceteva
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With You - Frank Morrison x Reader story Chapter One
❗️❗️WARNING❗️❗️
Story features mentions of rape/non con and gore. Please read at own risk. I do not own any DBD characters.
The generator fires and spurts as you flee from its side to run from the encroaching killer laughing hysterically as he opens another bottle of substance to lobby your way. You dash through a maze of corn and wooden boards trying to do anything to keep him away, the cool fall air of Coldwind farms combats the warmth of the sun overhead. You run straight for the tree that holds decaying cow corpses, gross, but you need a way to loop the Clown off your tail. He's giggling and chuckling all the way as he stomps behind you, his gait is that of a lumbering bear on two legs but with all the poise of a human.
Dropping the palette onto the Clown's head you hear him roar and grumble in aggravation as he watches you sprint away back into the corn. You dodge other generators and palettes as you try to find a place to hide or at least another teammate to comfort you. The shattering of glass behind you speeds up your heartbeat, legs burning as you full speed ahead but the splinters of shards dig into your skin through the fabric of your jeans and another unholy concoction from the Clown is airborne. You lose stride from the pain in your legs and the slip in focus causes you to fall to the ground as you trip on a rock. Another bottle hits the hard ground, sending out a colorful potion you've never seen before. Trying not to inhale the substance is hard as you struggle to catch your breath and get to your feet at the same time. Unfortunately, you've already inhaled too much and your vision grows fuzzy causing you to collapse and lose consciousness. The last thing you can hear is the Clown's victorious laughs as he approaches.
Frank sits up on the roof of the killer shack watching everything unfold. Other killers could view other trials but were not allowed to interfere. This was the only real rule the Entity gave other killers, but this situation was different. You were his favorite. He loved the way you screamed when being chased, how cute you were when you were being hooked, and mostly he just found himself entranced by you. He would often observe your trials to get his own kicks but this time he came for a specific reason: to stop the Clown. He heard rumors of the bastard creating some new tonic to make survivors fall unconscious, he didn't know what purpose that would serve until now. He watches the lumbering form begin to tear your clothing off from you.
"Bastard," Frank mutters to himself before pulling his mask over his face.
The Clown licks his lips under the mask in glee as he slowly begins to undress you down to your panties. He giggles to himself admiring his work, oh what he is DYING to do to you. He hears a thump nearby and then a familiar voice.
"That's far enough I think," Frank says, voice laced with venom. The Clown turns to look at who's stopping his fun time and smiles.
"Frank, my boy! Come to admire my work?"
"Shut the fuck up you Gacey wannabe, I'm here to stop it," he flicks his hunter's knife in his palm. The Clown bellows a laugh.
"You can't touch me here son, that would be against the rules. Besides, why do you care? You're a killer just like me, why shouldn't we get to have a little fun?"
"See, normally I would agree with you. However, even I have standards and this crosses that line,"
"And those are?"
"I don't rape unconscious people after drugging them you sick bastard," Frank lunges forward stabbing the larger man in the gut with his knife. The blade slicing into his sternum like a knife cutting off a chunk of steak. The Clown roars and grabs his stomach.
"Y-you little shit!" He growls. Frank wipes the blade winding up for another attack.
"You're not..getting away with this. You'll…you'll be punished by the Entity for you're-" the Clown chokes up bile and blood. Frank kicks him over, leaning a knee onto the larger man's neck so he chokes some more.
"That spider creep can do what it wants with me, after I'm done teaching an old piece of shit like you a lesson,"
The gates lift open with a whail and the other survivors head into the exit.
"Something doesn't feel right," Kate pipes up, rubbing her forearms.
"I agree, we never even saw the killer. This was too easy," David replies.
"Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Easy trial is a good trial!" Ace muses. David gives him a dirty look while Kate starts to look panicked.
"Oh God, where is (Y/N)?!"
"Shit! I barely saw her after the start of the trial!"
"But nobody was on the hooks, did they get away?"
The survivors begin to hear a noise of corn rustling behind them. Emerging from the corn holding you in their arms is Frank. His mask is off to the side of his head, revealing his face to the group. He's covered in blood, none of it his or your's. The group stares at him, Kate noticing you in his arms, clothes torn asunder.
"Oh God, (Y/N)! Is she ok?"
"What the fuck are you doing with her?" David asks in a growl.
"Relax, she's just unconscious. The killer was the Clown, he was going to hurt her but I stopped it," Frank says.
"Holy shit," Ace murmurs. Frank hands you off to David, who takes you in his arms. Kaye moves your hair to check your breathing.
"You guys better get going before you become Entity chow,"
"Wait sug, thank you for helping her but what's in this for you?" Kate asks.
"Nothing, just consider it a gift from a friend," Frank says. The group turns to leave, David carrying you through the gate and back to safety. Frank turns on the heels of his boots and wanders back into the corn to admire his work. The Clown is in slices, slowly being recombined by the Entity's power. He wishes he could kill the creepy old fuck but for some reason the Entity enjoys keeping him around. In moments the Entity's long legs burst from the ground and pull Frank under into the shadowy realm it exists in.
It's dark and numbing in the Entity's space. Frank can't tell if he's standing or floating in the smokey void that houses the ominous being.
"You disappoint me Frank Morrison. You've disobeyed the one rule I give you," the Entity speaks. "Do you know how long it will take to fix your mess?"
"Like there's a shortage of killer clowns," Frank rolls his eyes.
"SILENCE, HUMAN! You do not have the higher ground to speak to me in any way you desire. You've gone against my game, my trials, disrespected my blessings, you must be punished,"
"Do whatever you want with me, but do not touch the rest of the Legion. They're innocent,"
"I am aware. Unlike you, they've been following the rules of my game. Only you shall suffer the fate I provide you,"
"You gonna kill me?" The Entity laughs.
"You would like that wouldn't you, Frank Morrison? No, you do not get such luxuries. I shall punish you in a way that fits the crime," The world goes pitch black and Frank feels his body grow heavy. He loses consciousness.
Frank opens his eyes to see a sky dimly lit with stars, a tangle of tree branches against the skyline, his body aching in pain from laying on the cold, hard ground. He does a check over to make sure he still has all his limbs and appendages, nothing seems to be missing. He sits up, hearing a nearby stream trickling by and feeling an incredible thirst overtake him. Running to the stream he begins scooping water into his palm and drinking. He goes until he feels the dryness in his mouth subside, taking deep breaths to relax himself. He looks down into the water and sees changes in his reflection. His eyes have become a soft grey, the hints of red that coated them from the Entity are gone. Physically he doesn't feel as strong as he was. His usual leather jacket and hoodie have been replaced with his varsity jacket and a t-shirt, with jeans and sneakers instead of his combat boots and camo tactical pants.
"What the fuck…" he whispers to himself. A lot of his piercings he did after becoming a killer were gone except for an eyebrow piercing, the scar across the bridge of his nose from it getting broken remains, with a mop of dark hair on the top of his head but shorter on the sides. He can hear voices in the distance, survivors he thinks. He reaches for his knife but his trusty blade is gone.
You shall live as one of them, this is your new fate the Entity echoes in Frank's head. He panics for a moment, running a hand through his hair, trying to come to terms with what that even means for him. He was now a survivor, no longer killing them but PART of their group. Suddenly he feels a strange ease wash over him because it dawns on who he can be with: you.
He gets up off the ground and begins to approach the fire light in the distance. Survivors are gathering around the flames, chatting, he recognizes a lot of them from his hunts. As he steps further into the light he steps on a stick, the crack makes everyone turn and go silent. Small gasps and murmurs throughout the crowd saying his name or just Legion. David stands up, hands clenched into fists before he barks.
"What the fuck do YOU want?" Frank holds up his hands.
"Whoa whoa, easy, I'm not a killer anymore,"
"Pft yeah right, like we believe that bullshit," Nea snorts from her spot leaning against a tree.
"Killers can't enter survivor spaces!" Someone yells, he thinks it's Meg. More muttering erupts.
"Now hold on y'all, maybe we should hear him out?" Kate suggests. "Are you all forgetting he saved (Y/N)? He let us go last trial!" Everyone stops muttering and goes quiet, exchanging looks. Tapp crosses his arms, David clenches his jaw.
"Go on then," Kate encourages.
"Well, apparently I pissed off the Entity enough that I'm being punished for that. Now I'm one of you," Nobody speaks. The group exchanges glances around, wondering what to do or say. Frank rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Suddenly he feels someone crash into his back nearly knocking him over, two arms wrap around him.
"YOU SAVED ME!" the voice he's adored since you first came here, it's yours. Frank turns in your grasp to see you giving him a hug, tears streaming down your face.
"(Y/N) don't touch him!" Tapp yells.
"Kate told me what you did and I never got to thank you…and now you're being punished for helping me,"
"H-hey, it's not your fault. I wanted to help you," You let go of him so he can turn to face you, but he wishes you didn't. You wipe at your eyes trying to stop yourself from crying. You were in shock when Kate told you what Frank had done. Saving you from the Clown who tried to do something so horrible to you, and now he was a survivor like the rest of you. You feel Frank's warm hand cup your chin and pull your face to meet his eyes.
"Don't be sorry, I wouldn't let that sicko do what he wanted to you. Besides, this isn't so bad," he smiles, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. You can feel your cheeks heating up, eyes blown wide as he looks down at you.
"I hate to interrupt the touching moment here but it's not like the Entity brought in a new survivor the same way. He doesn't have a cabin," says a voice, Frank thinks it's Adam.
"H-he can stay with me!" You blurt out. Frank lets go of your face, eyes wide.
"I don't think that's a good idea,"
"He doesn't have anywhere to go, and it's something I can do to repay him for saving me,"
"You really trust this guy?" Jill asks, crossing her arms across her chest, approaching closer to help her friend if Frank tries anything. He glares at her, he never did like cops.
"Listen I get it sounds insane, but I don't even have a weapon on me," Frank says.
"We could always pat him down and double check?" Suggests Laurie from the crowd.
"I'll do it," Leon volunteers, stepping forward. He grabs Frank's shoulder, instructing him to put his hands on a nearby tree while he conducts a search.
"You pat down all the pretty boys, officer?" Frank quips. Leon shoots him a look and Frank winks back. Everyone shifts uncomfortably.
"He's clean," Leon says, Frank turns back around and you give him a warm smile.
"If nobody else is willing to give him a place to stay what's the issue? Besides, I don't really feel like being alone tonight after…today," you look towards the ground, shuffling your foot in the dirt. Frank takes your hand in his and gives a small squeeze.
"I promise I'll be on my best behavior officer," he says, you gaze up at him and feel a blush forming on your cheeks. Jill snorts, glaring at him.
"If it'll make (Y/N) feel safer, and we really don't have a place for him," Jill remarks. The rest of the group just kind of nods and mutters to themselves. Leon approaches you and whispers in your ear.
"If he tries anything you know where to find me," you nod back, feeling his hand squeeze your shoulder. Other survivors begin to disperse, some walking in groups or pairs off to the cabins. Each survivor came with a cabin that replicates where they came from. Yours resembles your old apartment before the Entity claimed you. Opening the door, you flick on the light and Frank follows you in, hands in his jacket pockets. Your living space is small, a one bedroom apartment maybe five hundred square feet. Frank begins to look around, making himself comfortable like a cat in a new home.
"I know it's not very big but it's cozy and better than sleeping outside," Frank flops down on the couch, you wander into your bedroom looking for something comfortable for him to wear. You knew you had sweatpants from an old ex in your drawers and maybe he could borrow a bigger t-shirt. You dig out the pair of grey sweats and manage to find a t-shirt he could wear from your old college. You walk back out and hand them to him.
"Here, for you to change into so you don't have to wear jeans to bed," he gives you a smile.
"Aw, how sweet of you,"
"You can shower off in the bathroom over there if you feel like it,"
"Actually that sounds kinda nice," you show him the bathroom, giving him a clean towel of his own and explain the door can be locked for privacy. Undressing and turning on the shower, Frank steps into the warm water letting it wash over him and down his body. He can't stop thinking about how lucky this turned out for him. Why the Entity would bless him by bringing him closer to you was beyond him, but he wasn't about to question this punishment.
Using some of your soap to wash his body, Frank gently hums to himself. One of his favorite pastimes was singing and humming to himself. He feels on cloud nine right now. You've taken the opportunity to change into your own pajamas, some black pajama pants and a tank top, hearing Frank humming from the other side of the door. He seems oddly happy considering everything, and most times during trials with him he would let you go at the end. The humming turns to singing, Frank has a lovely voice you had to admit. A moment later the water shuts off but the singing continues.
Frank exits the bathroom, running the towel over his hair to dry some of the water out. He keeps singing to himself, wearing the clothes you gave him. He seems so relaxed and happy being here.
"You seem happy," you remark. Frank gives you a wolfish grin.
"It's just been a really great day,"
"I figured you would be upset with all this,"
"Well I'm upset I never got to tell the other Legion members what was going on but I know they're safe and the Entity won't touch them,"
"So you're very close with them?"
"We are like a family," Frank smiles. "It's weird no longer having the intense urge to kill from the Entity's power, physically I don't feel as strong as before," he stares at his hands. You sort of feel bad, he's been separated from his family and dumped here full of people who have already judged him.
"I'm sorry you risked everything to help me," you murmur. Frank's head snaps to look at you.
"Hey don't be sorry, I did it on my own. I wouldn't let that fucker hurt you or have his way with you," he says sternly.
"But why? Weren't you also a killer?" Frank fidgets.
"Yeah but…I'm not like him," You cross your arms across your chest and give him a look.
"I've seen you mori my friends and wipe their blood on your mask while laughing. What makes you different? Why save me?" Frank bounces his knee in agitation.
"I just am ok? Trust me,"
"You can't blame me for being skeptical dude, you would chase me all over the map for kicks. You loved doing the frenzy thing so why-"
"Because I fucking like you ok?! I care about you! I've been obsessed with you since our first trial together! Now I have this chance to…to be here!" You put a hand over your mouth and look at him in shock. Frank's face turns the brightest red.
"I'm sorry for yelling," he says.
"No it's ok, t-thank you for telling me," you look down at the floor. There's an awkward pause.
"Maybe we should go to sleep," Frank suggests. You agree and go to get him some pillows and blankets to sleep on the couch from your bedroom. Frank runs a hand through his hair. He feels like a huge jerk.
"If you need more stuff let me know," you say.
"You've already done a lot, (Y/N). Thank you," you give a small nod before disappearing behind your bedroom door. Frank sighs, leaning back on the couch and groaning into his hands.
You have the worst nightmares of your life, vivid and horrifying as you relive the trauma from the previous trial. It goes further, the Clown keeps you awake but you cannot move and feel everything he's doing. You scream and thrash until you wake up gripping your chest, panicking. Your bedroom door flies open and you see Frank in the doorway. He rushes to your side, you feel tears threatening to drop down.
"Are you ok?! I heard screaming so I ran in here,"
"Y-yeah…just a bad dream," you say. Frank turns on the lamp beside your bed, you can see his face is coated in concern.
"What was it about?" He asks.
"Just the Clown and what happened,"
"It sounded worse than just that,"
"I'll be ok Frank I just need to calm down,"
"Push over," he instructs.
"Wh-"
"Just do it," you push over, making space in the bed. Frank gets in beside you and pulls you into his body. You feel his warmth, a welcoming sensation, wash over you as his strong arms wrap around you. You're pressing into his chest, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he murmurs softly in your ear.
"You're safe, you're ok. I'm here now, I won't let him touch you," and the overwhelming feeling of tears you've been trying to hold back overcomes you and you begin to sob uncontrollably into Frank. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, he continues to rub your back and repeat those words like a mantra. You've never been treated like this before, most of your exs made emotions seem like a huge issue. Eventually your manic sobs settle to small tears and your breathing slows down. Frank continues to hold you.
"That's my girl, let it alllll out. I'm here," you blush at him calling you his girl.
"I'm sorry I've drenched you," he gives a small laugh.
"It'll dry, do you feel better?"
"Yeah…I do. Thank you,"
"Do you want me to leave?" He asks. You grip his t-shirt tightly.
"Please stay, I don't…I don't want to be alone," you can almost see his smile in your mind.
"OK baby, I'll stay as long as you want,"
He sings softly to you, a song you don't quite recognize, eventually you fall back asleep in his arms. Once he feels you safely asleep he rolls to the side to turn off the light beside the bed. Back to holding you close Frank tries to push down the fury he has for the Clown and the fear you have inside you from his disgusting actions. He would make him pay all over again, a thousand times, just to make you feel safe.
Morning arrives and you slowly awaken, laying on your side with your back to Frank and his arm draping around your waist. You slept much better having him beside you, snuggling under the comforter. You give a small stretch, feeling the need to pee. You try to wiggle free but Frank tightens his grip and pulls you back into his sleeping form. You giggle, trying to escape his grasp but he doesn't let go.
"Frank pleaaaase let me go? I need to pee so bad!" You beg. He lets go and you escape, running out of the room. Frank groans and buries himself under the covers once again. He's content with just staying in your bed all day, it was nice to not wake up freezing his ass off like in Ormond. He temporarily falls back asleep when he hears a knock on your cabin door and you run to answer it. Peeking out from under the blankets he can hear murmurs from outside. Two other voices, female from the cadence. Frank drags himself out of bed to investigate.
"You doin' ok hon?" Kate asks.
"Yeah I'm better than yesterday, that's for sure,"
"We were worried about you and Frank staying together, he didn't hurt you did he?"
"No, he actually helped me out of a panic attack last night. It was really sweet!"
"He hasn't tried anything funny has he?" Jill asks. Frank clicks his tongue.
"No! He's been nothing but respectful and kind, honestly you guys are worried over nothing,"
"Don't you think it's weird the Entity dumped him here after all this?" Frank opens the bedroom door and practically runs up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on top of yours.
"Morning ladies, thanks for coming to check in," Frank says. Jill gives him a dirty look.
"Y'all look awfully cozy for just one night together," Kate remarks.
"What can I say? I'm just that damn charming," Frank smirks. You blush feeling his warmth contrast the cool air outside.
"I'm OK guys, seriously thank you for worrying," you say in earnest. Jill relaxes a little hearing you sound so content, pulling the sleeve of Kate's jacket as a sign to back down.
"We'll see you later then," she says with a smile. You nod, closing the door as the two girls turn to walk away. Frank lets go of your waist but in a swift motion sweeps you up bridal style to take you back to the bedroom. You let out a little squeak when he does, he's still so strong for not having his Entity powers. He puts you back into the bed and hops in beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Now where were we?"
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To Realize
Main Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader
Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.
A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot until... I wanted to base it on the whole Black Widow movie :"))
Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.
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Your last interaction with your father didn't go well, he simply told you that Secretary Ross is now after you and Natasha after helping Steve, and Bucky to get in the Quinjet while T'challa was after them.
Quickly tackling the king of Wakanda on the ground, while Natasha shot something at him to give Rogers and his friend time to take off, as soon as the jet flew away, you removed your arms that are restraining him.
"Your father will hear about this, and you too Miss Romanoff." The exact words that came out of T'challa, and now you're on the run with Natasha, considered as a global fugitive.
Your father looked at you with disappointment when he mentioned that Ross will be chasing you and the latter, you looked at Natasha before she took your hand and leading you out, taking you to who knows where.
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"You miss your daddy?" Natasha spoke while driving, you chuckle at her words then resting your head against the car window. "Hmm, kinda, so what are we doing here in Norway?" You ask the latter.
"Well, you've noticed that Ross is after our asses after assaulting the King of Wakanda, and helping Steve and Barnes escape the airport, I believe we should lay low, right?" She propped her elbow by the window, resting her head on her knuckle as she drives with one hand. "Oh? I didn't know that." You replied sarcastically, making Natasha roll her eyes.
"What I mean is, why Norway of all places?" Now you're kindly asking, arms crossed over your chest and slowly drifting off to sleep, exhausted after hours of traveling, without Daddy's private planes, sports car, and Quinjet also.
Natasha noticed how your voice softens, a long yawn coming out of your mouth, and quickly glancing at you. "Ross has no jurisdiction here, his boys would stay away from here for the time being." She answered, you softly nodded and replied with an 'okay' almost a whisper with how silent it was.
In a split second, you're already fast asleep at the passenger seat, both arms hugging yourself and your head resting against the window. Nat maintained her eyes on the road as she attempts to reach for a blanket she stashed in the backseat, after few shifts in her place, the Russian managed to grab the cloth.
She gently placed the soft blanket over you, and now focusing herself on driving, for some reason, she has always felt this warm feeling in her heart when she's alone with you, adoration maybe?
Your peaceful state while you're in deep slumber, and hearing your soft snores as she admires the view of the landscape, she would offer everything she has just to stay like this most of the time.
The thought caught her off-guard, why would she want to spend all of her time with her friend's daughter? She shrugged the thought off from her mind, she knows what love feels like, she felt it with Bruce until Hulk decided to drive off somewhere they won't find him.
She did get sad because of it, but she chose to move forward and move on, successfully removing any romantic feelings for Banner, focusing on her work as an Agent and an Avenger.
But why is she feeling this way with you? Her heart melts when she sees you getting all excited when you've successfully upgraded your techs, how she would automatically smile when her eyes would catch you smiling, and how she feels warm when you're there to ease her mind when a mission didn't go as planned.
She's now connecting the dots, using the silence and peace surrounding her, she got time to think about herself and her feelings towards Tony Stark's daughter.
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After half an hour of the drive, you slowly wake up from your nap, looking around the surroundings you're in the middle of the woods, Natasha's still driving. "Good uhh... Evening?" You greeted Nat with your groggy voice.
Natasha stopped the car beside the safehouse, which is a caravan and you don't mind, you can't really call your father to get you a 5-star hotel to stay in. "Did you manage to replenish your energy?" She asked, unbuckling her seat belt and you did the same.
Getting out of the car, she has her gun out and you also have one on your hand, staying alert until both of you heard a loud snore in the room. Natasha immediately returned to her relaxed posture before heading into where the sound belongs, and she found her contractor sleeping.
Kicking his foot that is off the bed, the man immediately woke up. "You're sleeping in my bed." Natasha commented, "I'm not even under the covers." He replied, then his eyes trail at you, awkwardly looking away noticing that the two seemed close.
"I've got what you asked for, fake IDs, drivers licenses, and some VISAs, also for Miss Stark too, just like what you've told me to do." He says as he handed out the fake identifications to Natasha, while reading, the Russian frowned upon what she just read. "Really? Fanny Longbottom?"
"That is a legitimate name." He defended himself, them Natasha handed your fake IDs, taking a good look at them and you're amazed about how real they seem to be. "Thank you...?" You softly spoke.
"Rick, Rick Mason." He introduced himself, and you shook his hand also introducing yourself, with little chit-chat soon after the man left leaving you and Natasha alone.
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An hour has passed it's already dark out, you're currently sitting by the front door, knees up to your chest, and you already felt homesick, Natasha's company is nice honestly, but the feeling of being far away from your father and home sucks.
Natasha looks at you while you're way too busy gazing at the woods, she knows you aren't used to this type of setup, running away from authorities, and far from home, she felt bad for you.
She walks up behind you, making sure you're aware of her presence before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to watch a movie on my laptop, feel free to join me, I'm also eating the ice cream we bought at the convenience store earlier." She softly spoke before leaving you alone.
Minutes after, you finally stood up from where you are sitting and closing the front door, almost dragging your way to Natasha. Two bowls of ice cream in front of her, and her laptop already on, she was waiting for you.
You placed yourself beside her, head resting on her shoulder then she plays the movie on the screen, lazily taking a spoonful of the cold treat in your mouth, and eyes glued on the screen, but you weren't paying attention to the movie, you're spacing out.
"Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?" Of course, not, Natasha knows damn well you aren't okay, she thought that it's a dumb question. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answered just like your father, she paused the film and causing you to look at her. "No, you're not okay, and that's okay." She says before taking you into her arms.
You're surprised actually, Natasha isn't usually the one who initiates physical contact but here she is, her arms wrapped around your body. You needed this, you needed to feel home and somehow being hugged by Natasha feels like it.
Burying your face at her shoulders then you knew you're melting in her arms, it almost brought the tears out of you, as if her touch is enough the lift the burden you've been feeling.
Natasha feels like home.
You try not to think anything about the affection she just gave, but damn, you think you'd go batshit crazy if you won't get to experience this again.
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Let's be clear here, you've had a crush on Natasha while she's still Natalie, then as soon as Fury revealed that she is some secret agent, you were so amazed that you started liking her, though she didn't contact after that.
You weren't part of the Avengers initiative, but you did join them in the battle of Sokovia, but she and Banner have a thing going on, so you've decided to set those feelings aside. Which you successfully did for a few months, and after Bruce flying who knows where maybe you can make a move?
So you did, you would jokingly flirt around Natasha, and your father would give a questioning look then you slowly back away, but you were also a great friend to Nat, it's just that you can't seem to get all romantic with Natasha.
Just as much of a playboy your father is, that's all his, you suck at this type of thing, so Nat probably thought you're just a caring and affectionate person.
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You gently pull away from Natasha's grasp, and she looks at you with her emerald eyes. "Better?" She asked, placing a hand on your cheek softly caressing your skin. "Much better, thank you." She smiled with your answer, the next thing you know is that you're way too close to her, and you're looking at her plump lips.
This would be a perfect time to make a move.
You hold the back of her hand that is on your cheek, slowly closing in, and Natasha is leaning closer, so near that you could feel each other breathing, just when your lips were about to touch hers... the power died.
Nat cleared her throat and awkwardly moving away, removing her hand away from you and she stood up. "I'm just going to check the power generator." She says before going outside.
Her face turned red as soon as she was out of your sight, she got way too vulnerable with you, she almost kissed you but she sure knows she's going to like it but no, not at a time like this.
She tried to get the power back on, only to find that there's no more fuel in the generator, she came back inside finding you eating ice cream in the corner, and probably waiting for her to come back.
"I'm going to a gas station, do you want to come with me?" She asked, you nodded before getting off your ass and bringing yourself into her car, there's this awkward tension between the two of you, and as soon as she started driving, the silence swallowed the two of you.
"Can I turn the radio on?" You asked her, she simply nodded while eyes fixated on the road, you played the radio, and Sia's Cheap Thrills came on. "Damn, even here? When is this song going to die?" You commented.
Natasha taps her fingers on the steering wheel according to the beats, despite hearing the song over and over whenever you would turn on the radio, you still liked it.
Midway through the song, you felt chills on your body, and as soon as you look at the window beside you, suddenly you see an RPG heading towards the car.
"Nat—" Before she could react it has already hit the car causing an explosion, now the vehicle is hanging on the edge of the bridge, and with one wrong move it'll head straight down to the water. "Ooh, fuck that hurts." Hissing as you try to collect yourself and trying to fight the headache it caused.
Natasha on the other hand is in pain and boy, she's mad. "I'm pretty sure Ross has no jurisdiction here, and you should know that I'm a better shot when I'm pissed off," Nat spoke before firing few bullets at the person, you look at her and biting your lip, finding her hot.
"Wow, that's hot..." You spoke under your breath but Natasha heard, glaring at you. "Really? At a time like this?" She says, before heading out of the car when you tried to get out Nat stopped you. "How long can you hold your breath?" She asked. "Last time I beat Sam it was a good 4 minutes and a half."
"As soon as this psycho comes close enough, I'll push you into the water, it's not after us." She says you look at her as if she's speaking lies. "Nat, I'm not leaving you here–" before you could protest, you felt her lips against yours it was quick but you know damn well, that Natasha kissed you.
"I'll meet you down there, I promise." She says before a shield comes charging towards her, and managed to avoid it, yet it hit the car, now you're falling off the bridge and you suddenly noticed a small case on her hand.
You quickly got out of the car before it could hit the water, then you swam heading to safety where the one who ambushed wouldn't see you.
Closing your eyes hoping that Nat would come back to you in one piece, there's no way you'll let her die after kissing you, of course, you wanted to fight but your body just wouldn't.
You can't risk losing Natasha now.
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Next Part: To Remember
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#black widow x reader#black widow#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#marvel universe#tony stark#iron man#fem!reader#fem!stark!reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x fem!stark!reader
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𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader
Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)
Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though
↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me
5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]
5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]
The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.
It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.
You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.
You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.
[New Messages: Red]
Babe, you there?
Read 5.38pm
[New Messages: Red]
Babe I got practice at 8.
I know you're reading those.
Read 5.39pm
[Red is typing…]
[New Messages: Red]
I'm outside btw
A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.
He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.
He shouldn't be here.
His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.
Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.
Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.
[You]
Can't do it today
Sorry
You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.
You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.
You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.
"Babe,"
The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.
He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.
He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.
Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.
"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"
You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.
"Eijirou—"
"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."
It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.
You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.
His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.
You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.
Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.
"I'm just not in the mood today."
"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"
He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.
He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.
You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.
But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.
It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.
"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."
You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.
"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.
You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.
With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.
Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.
But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.
You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.
And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.
"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"
You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.
But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.
"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"
You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.
"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"
Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.
Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.
You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.
You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.
"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"
You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.
"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”
Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.
And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.
You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.
"You love me too?"
"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.
"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"
He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.
Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.
If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.
"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."
His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.
"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.
"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"
You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.
"You did, didn't you?"
"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."
He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"
"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."
No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.
Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.
You don't want to fight and he knows it.
He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.
So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.
"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."
Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.
"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"
You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.
He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.
You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.
…
The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.
When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.
And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.
That's how everybody knows about the two of you.
This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.
It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.
It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.
His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.
When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.
Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.
He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.
It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.
5.30am [Missed Call: Red]
5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]
[New Message: Red]
Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?
Delivered: 5.31am
[New Message: Red]
Did you have sex with him?
Babe answer me.
Delivered: 5.32am
[New Message: Red]
I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.
And I'll come over.
Babe.
Babe please.
Delivered: 5.33am
[New Message: Red]
I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?
Let me know when you wake up.
I love you.
So much.
Delivered: 5.38am
Read: 10.23pm
[You]
(Attached Image)
Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.
I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.
[Red is typing...]
Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post
↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo
#eijirou kirishima#kirishima x reader#eijirou x reader#eijirou kirishima x reader#kirishima x you#bnha#kirishima x y/n#bakugou x reader#Kirishima#mha fanfiction#mha#bnha fanfiction#kirishima fanfic#tw: cheating#kirishima smut#bnha smut#mha smut
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There is collected horrors upon me. (Kurapika X Reader) N-S-F-W
𝕿𝖂: 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉....
I am randomly here now. Don't mind. Just read why don't you?
☂ Collecting your thoughts, racing through your head, you hated this horrid nightmare that kept replaying over and over. He always managed to be one step ahead of you, in everything. His color-changing eyes delved with the witness of torture beyond no imagination, blonde and never-ending soft hair that practically glided through his fingers every time he was stressed. That's what lured you in and now he is right there. In your reach. But managing to look so far away. The pain in his eyes was like no other. How could you manage to fall for someone that's barely there in their own mind?
He looked up at you, his attention not set on the wet cement anymore, but on your apprehensive figure. His lips were parted, you seemed to be staring at them for too long because once he spoke, the movement had startled you.
"Did I interest you that much?" His slick voice escapes his mouth, sounding deeper than before. "I was worried you would stop following me." He stood up, managing to almost tower over you.
You scoffed, feigning disinterest before turning your head back to him. "Why would I ever stop? You're my only lead." You look at him with desperation almost, hoping he won't run this time. Although that was a silly thought. He rarely stayed long enough for you to collect yourself. He always left you breathless. The scent of him caught in your throat as he leaned forward, his eyes flickered down to your lips before looking back up. Kurapika had never once smelt anything around bad. He always smelled like the fresh crisp smell of honey drizzled all over redwood, a sweet but harsh scent, it always made you picture a beautiful forest that had the best dark secrets.
"Why haven't you tried to make me tell you anything yet then?" You didn't expect to hear those words come from him. It left you a little shocked. How hasn't he disappeared yet? It used to be so easy for him too. Now he hit the nail on the head... And so unexpected.
"Why haven't you told me anything if you knew?" You managed to come back with a witty response, a raindrop hitting your nose but you never let your gaze move away from him, afraid that if you even blinked, he would be gone. A smile appeared on his face, only for a split second before he went back to his usual deadpan expression. It tugged at your heartstrings, your knees feeling a little heavier than usual.
"You're right. But what if I liked seeing your skill (F/N)?" Once your name left his lips a shiver ran down your spine.
"How do you know my name?" Your voice wavered now, a little frightened at how he managed to find out. It would've taken a lot for someone to find your name, if not years. You barely told anyone your name.
More raindrops found their way onto your burgundy coat and on Kurapika's reddish-pink nose. It looked like he was really cold from the flush on his cheeks. He looked down, not giving an answer.
Thinking that he would escape now, you sighed and your shoulders dejected, looking at the grey bricked sidewalk. You turned. "You've seen my skill enough then. We weren't supposed to get close like this. I have an objective. So do you." Before you knew it, cold harsh words left your lips. Kurapika's eyes showed a tinge of discomfort to them, the curiosity leaving and replaced with what could only be described as worry. His newfound interest, leaving him? Oh, that wasn't a good thought at all for him. But you didn't know your effect. You thought it was just your silly mind... Playing tricks...
Your dark cerulean boots hit the scattered puddles on the ground, leaving the traumatized blonde on his own, his mouth agape slightly. Was he the one being left behind now? No. That couldn't happen. That wasn't happening. He tensed up as he chased after your disappearing figure, a new feeling taking over him, desperation.
His black dress pants were getting wet on the edges and his shoes becoming littered with water droplets. Your confused (E/C) eyes entered his sight as soon as he came to a halt, only three feet away from you. The boy was confused, it was jumbled all onto his face. Why was he following you? He did have one objective. He needed to focus but you were the only thing on his mind lately. That's why he led you here... Right?
"You can't leave. I haven't said-"
"Yet you can when it's me the one talking." You interrupted him, a glare sent his way. He looked down and then back up, his breathing rigid, his brown eyes flickering to a scarlet which made you stop everything altogether.
"I was afraid." The truth practically dripped from his lips from that moment. His eyes showed all the vulnerability. Why was he opening up to you like this now? Why is he trying to mess with you? You gritted your teeth, shaking your head. "Please leave."
"Why?" He asked, stepping closer to you, realizing he's managing to get through to you. He knew it was wrong to slowly force you to open yourself to the idea of letting him talk but he needed to speak his mind. You were giving in to his little trap.
"You're making a mistake Kurapika. You're making me make a mistake." You shook your head and backed away, trying your best to understand what he needed to say so badly but there were no clues. "You're giving me the wrong idea..." You muttered, your heavy breathing could be seen in the cold air, letting off a fog.
He slowly walked to you until he was only a couple centimeters apart, his scarlet eyes staring deep into yours. You were getting lost in them, your breath hitching. His face... So close... It reminded you of when you first saw him, standing on the rooftop, peering down at the auction house. It was only until later on, you had realized that he had become the Mafia leader. You knew then he could help you but you didn't realize that he was going to try to help in multiple ways. Especially like this.
"Who told you it was the wrong idea?" He had no idea what he was saying, he just followed what his heartbeat was telling him and it was pointing to you in over a million different ways and languages in his head. His lips were slowly coming closer to yours, the rain had picked up but both of you were too distracted to notice. His nose touched yours, the excitement erupted in your stomach as the Kurta pushed you against a wall of one of the buildings. Good thing he picked this time... The city had no one wandering around at this time.
"Back away Kurapika..." Your voice gave it all away, how unsure you were, how much you wanted this boy's lips on yours. It expressed everything to Kurapika at that moment and he took it as a sign to move forward, his lips crashing onto yours.
They were soft, the slight taste of liquor was on them but not enough to cringe at. You made a note of that. 'Guess he likes to indulge in his own regrets...' You gripped onto the lapels of his suit, a groan muttering out his mouth and into yours. You could feel the wetness of his hair against you from the rain, the raindrops mixing in with the kiss before you pulled away. There was a relief of some tension as you looked into his eyes. But they were still burning red.
It was obvious. He didn't just want one simple kiss...
He wanted more.
Everything from then on was a blur, from the trip to his place, to how your clothes slowly littered his marble living room floor, to where you were getting observed by him... Underneath him... His intense gaze never left you, every little inch he observed of your skin, littering kisses, a little lovebite. You'll never get the feeling of his teeth lightly grazing and latching onto your skin ever out of your mind. Never. He was intoxicating. Everything about him was intoxicating you.
"Keep looking at me like that... So I can keep it in my head forever..." He whispers, his lips pressing against your neck now as his hands explore the sides of your body. Rough and still soft... It made you shiver as you looked at the white ceiling. His bed was huge and it made you wonder how he even slept in it lonely but that thought quickly got suppressed in your mind as he found your sweet spot. A moan left your lips unexpectedly, his grip tightening on the bedsheets once he heard what he'd been waiting for. He continued to abuse that spot, his teeth pressing in now, the taste of your skin messing him up slowly. You groaned.
He stopped once he knew left quite the mark on you, his kisses becoming rougher and his hands clearly impatient as they started to travel more. Sounds kept slipping out of you, driving him to slowly lose it. He couldn't take it anymore.
He gripped onto your wrists tightly, marks were going to be on them later, a foreign feeling pushing into you and before you know it you were screaming because of him. He changed his rhythm every time he knew you got comfortable, his own expression twisted in pleasure. There was a little blood surrounding his mouth. You knew he didn't mean to... He couldn't help it.... He just used his canines too much... And you didn't care.
"Kurapika..." You muttered against his collarbone, your nails pressed against his back. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he tried his best to not hurt you again. He was afraid he would go too rough.
"I... love you..." Kurapika looked into your eyes, both of you shared your feelings through a kiss, his grip tightening fully as he couldn't hold back anymore, using all his strength until he made you tremble underneath him... Until you made his back bleed with scratches... Until he knew you wouldn't be able to speak that clearly the next day... He wanted those little reminders of this night to stay with you for a little longer and to stay with him too. He never wanted to forget this.
As soon as your second time flooded through your body, that's when he let go himself, letting everything out inside of you. The feeling making you shake before he collapsed next to you.
Both of you panting. You looked at him, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his eyes back to that beautiful hue of brown. Not that his scarlet wasn't just as beautiful.
"You d-didn't let me say it back..." You huffed, pulling yourself closer to him, trying your best to recover, and like he predicted, your voice was raspy.
"Your face was saying it for you." His laugh danced through your ears like a sweet melody as he moved some of your hair behind your ear before kissing you on the forehead and getting up. "Let me get you cleaned up." His arms were felt under you before you were lifted into his hold, his smile staying on his features longer than before.
You couldn't say anymore, your vocal cords were already strained enough and he understood. He didn't even question why you didn't speak while he cleaned your body. He kept a sincere gaze, washing every single spot, not missing anything. That was until he came across your old scars, a finger tracing them before a concerned gaze met with you.
"You hurt yourself?" Kurapika's voice held a hurt but gentle tone, of course, there were multiple scars on him but he could automatically tell when it was self-harm. He couldn't just leave that.
A sad face decorated yours, looking away, and he decided to bring it up another time. "You're still beautiful." He reassured you. "I won't think anything less of you. Just informing you." He looked up at you with a warm smile and you looked at him in awe, tears brimming your eyes at the sweet words. It was like he read your mind. With that, he pulled you into a hug, soon dressing you, making sure you're comfortable and then laying with you. And as you started to fall asleep, he comforted you on the way there.
"Your secrets are safe with me... (F/N)..."
#kurapika x reader#kurapika imagine#kurapika smut#kurapika kurta x reader#kurap1ka#hunter x hunter#hxh imagines#hxh 2011
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Birthday
Summary: Toby invites Bucky to his 11th birthday party.
Warnings: good bit of sexual tension, rude ass parent, cursing, I think that's it???
AU: Babysitter!Bucky x Fem!Reader
AN: I waited soo long to finish this that I couldn't remember exactly what I'd planned for it, so I winged half of it.
THE FILL IN MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Moodboard by @bucksdolll
"Toby seems to be warming up to the temporary pretty well." One of the Moms whispered to yours. "Bucky? He's a sweetheart. Isn't he, dear?"
You looked away from where Bucky was being swarmed by the younger kids and a couple of their older sisters you'd went to high school with; your mom giving you a sweet smile. "A big softie."
"He's great with Toby, and is sweet on a little miss someone." She grinned, poking your side as you got two bottles of water from the cooler. "Well, aren't you lucky." One of the other mom's chided. "Extremely."
"Go save him, poor boy looks like he's ready to combust." Your mom sighed, fixing a few things on the table that held cake and various types of snacks.
Turning on your heels, you went to where he was stood letting Toby babble on about his arm. "Can I borrow you for a sec?"
Bucky gave a bright smile and nodded, letting you guide him to the open back door. "I think he's have a good time showing off his super cool babysitter." You teased, handing him some extra drinks for the cooler. "Does he ever run out of energy?"
Shaking your head, you looked over the way the dark blue t-shirt clung to his skin, the dips of his muscular torso visible even through the wet fabric. "You're not gonna take that off are ya." You said, tugging the hem.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "Nothing wrong with being a little modest, Buck." You smiled, noticing how he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Don't wanna, uh, scare a bunch of kids."
"Or have their dads chasing you down because, the wives are gawking at you." You said, scrunching your nose up at him. He breathed a laugh and shook his head again, leaning down to peck a simple kiss to your lips. "Yeah. I don't think that's gonna happen."
After presents were opened and cake was ate, you and Bucky hid away in the kitchen again for a few moments away from the crowd of kids and parents. "You look beautiful, sunshine." He said, adjusting the thin strap of your dress. "Don't look too bad yourself, Buck."
Your fingers wrapped around the cool metal of his dog tags, tugging them so he'd lean down; his lips ghosting across yours when he turned his head to the opening back door.
"James! There you are." Your mom breathed, pulling the door shut behind her. "Mallory just extended her vacation for another 3 weeks. Please, tell me you're available?" She clasped her hands together and gave him pleading eyes.
"Yeah, of course." Bucky smiled, nodding his head. "Great, perfect. A few of Toby's friends are staying, so I hope they don't bother you too much." She said, looking to you.
"I'm sure Bucky wouldn't mind staying to help, right?" You looked up at him, patting his chest lightly. His eyebrows raised and he nodded, swallowing thickly. "I'll stay."
"Miranda, I've been looking for you." Darlene, one of the most judgemental moms, said, Toby and her son following in behind her. "I've been meaning to ask you- where's Matthew? Shouldn't he be here instead of-" She stopped when she saw Bucky, still standing very close to you.
"He had work." Your mom said with a forced smile. "No wonder it didn't work out, that's all he thinks about." Darlene said clicking her tongue. "Now, you're stuck having to pay a babysitter who-"
"Yeah, I'm gonna stop you right there. Toby, go play outside." Bucky looked down at your hard expression, putting his hand on Toby's shoulder to walk with him into the backyard. "That's not an appropriate thing to talk about at a kid's birthday party. He is eleven, he doesn't need to know why his dad didn't show up."
"It's just- this new babysitter of yours is so-"
"Sweet? Shy, handsome, good with kids? If none of those are what you are about to say, then don't say it." She looked at you dumbfounded, glancing at your mom. "You're not gonna let her talk like this are you?"
Your mom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen counter. "She's grown. I don't dictate what she says. Besides, she's right."
"Unbelievable."
As the families dispersed, going home once the sun started to set, your mom looking exhausted as she cleaned the kitchen. "I've got it, go on to bed. You've had your stress fill for the day."
She gave you a soft thank you before shuffling away to the hallway, Bucky walking in from the chaos filled living room. "Make it out alive?" You teased, picking up the trash that littered the counter. "Barely. Need help?"
His hand rested on the small of your back, pink tinting his cheeks. "You could move the couch for me? Put this to use." You teased, fingertips running up the dark metal of his left arm before wrapping around his wrist.
You finished cleaning the kitchen and went to check on the state of the living room; Bucky laying out the blankets and pillows on the floor for the kids.
"Can we watch Nightmare on Elm Street?" Toby asked, looking up at you with hopeful eyes as you picked up the remote. "No, it's too scary for you." You said, clicking through the movie selections. "Please?"
Bucky chuckled when you rolled your eyes and nodded. "One scream out of any of you and I'm switching it to lullabies."
It didn't take long.
Not even 30 minutes into the movie you were switching it to Toy Story, ignoring the protests that sounded from them.
Another 30 minutes and they were all passed out, sprawled out on the blankets and snoring as you tugged Bucky with you to the kitchen.
"Knew that was gonna happen." You said, breathing a laugh and lifting yourself onto the counter.
Bucky moved to stand in front of you, your knees parting on instinct to let him stand between them. "Steve said he'll have your car done in a couple days. Want me to take you back to your apartment tomorrow? So, you don't have to take the train."
Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck loosely; pulling his lips to yours. You all but melted completely in his touch, cool, smooth metal on your right thigh a beautiful contrast to the warm skin on your left.
"I'm so fucking lucky..." He muttered against your lips before pressing his tongue against yours.
"Ew, stop eating my sisters face." You breathed a laugh at Toby's tired voice, looking over your shoulder at him. "Whst are you doing up?" You teased, turning slightly to see him better. "You know I don't like to admit when you're right..."
You were getting restless. Wanting more every time you'd get near Bucky; more of the sweetness of his kiss and gentle, adoring touches.
But hwahented things taken slow. Which you fully understood; and with the group of kids in the front room, it wasn't going to go far anyways.
"Scared?" He nodded softly and you slid off of the counter. "Calm that down and come watch some tv." You smiled at Bucky, gesturing to the strain against his athletic shorts.
Bucky's face burned as he watched you usher Toby back into the living room, staying back for a moment before following.
"Don't you dare tell anyone about this." Toby said, pointing a finger at Bucky that made him look to where you were holding the boy's hand from your spot, laid on the loveseat. "You're about as threatening as the neighbors ankle biter." Bucky retorted, sitting in the recliner.
You had turned some random TV show on, suddenly becoming extra quiet within an hour.
Bucky glanced from the screen to see you sleeping peacefully, Toby's hand barely hanging onto yours as Bucky stepped over one of the kids to grab the blanket from the back of the loveseat.
Gently laying it over you, he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek; biting back a smile when you subconsciously tilted your head to follow his lips.
There's always tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @marvel-3407 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship
#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#babysitter!bucky fluff#babysitter!bucky
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Forever ago request that I started long ago and finally finished. Hope you'll see this, anon.
Title: Saved by the Bell | Words: 2,611 | Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairing: Arthur x female reader
You can't exactly tell when it started; you just know it's getting worse. For a few weeks now, you and Arthur have been dancing around each other, making jokes and comments that aren't solely friendly. You also don't remember who started it, but now that you're both in it, neither of you wants to give in and stop.
Somehow, Arthur always manages to do his work right in front of you, often needlessly shirtless, giving you a good look at his muscular body. In turn, you bend over way more than necessary, not caring if your clothes stay in place, exposing your cleavage or legs up to your thighs.
Today, it's one of those days again. Arthur is chopping wood, always in your frame of vision, once again refusing to wear a shirt. He only stops when you use helping Pearson as an excuse to lick your fingers clean at every chance you get.
Arthur disappears after that. You see him again when you're down by the river to clean some clothes. He washes barely a few steps away from you. Unlucky for him, you're not the most squeamish when it comes to cold water. Only dressed in your chemise, you don't care how the stream soaks the fabric, making it cling to your thighs.
By the time Arthur walks over to you, you managed to get a few splashes of water on your chest as well, letting your breasts shine through like a beacon in the night. Arthur's eyes clearly rest there for a moment before he looks at your face.
"Charles said you wanted to come on our next hunting trip. That true?" he asks.
"Sure, why wouldn't I?"
"Lots of wild animals out there. It's pretty dangerous."
You know he doesn't mean that. After all, you've been out with them before. The whole conversation is just another way of teasing you. Arthur is standing way closer than he has to or does with the other girls. Droplets of water are still searching their way through the hair on his chest to run down over his stomach before they find their end at the hem of his jeans, not allowed to venture any deeper. Just like your gaze.
After weeks and weeks of this, it begins to annoy you. "You know, the chance of being ravished by some wild beast out there doesn't scare me at all. In fact, it would be a nice change of pace."
Arthur needs a moment to process your answer, and something in his face and posture shifts. "Are you sure? You could get hurt."
He sounds way too serious, and maybe you should get to the bottom of it, but you're out of patience. You get up and pick up the basket with the clothes before leaning over to Arthur. "I'm tired of the chase, Arthur. If you want your prey, you shoot it, or you don't. You don't make it run until it wants to throw itself off a cliff just to put an end to it."
Arthur opens his mouth but doesn't say anything. At that moment, you decide that you don't want a man who can't be honest about what he wants. You gave Arthur enough hints, making clear that you wouldn't be opposed to taking it a step further with him. If he can't act on that, then you'll call it quits.
"Maybe I'll find someone else to hunt with," you say, walking away. For a brief moment, you have a flicker of hope that Arthur might hold you back, but the silence behind you is absolut. It's over.
[Line Break]
A week later, Arthur and Micah bring in a big score. They're the most unlikely pair out there, but Arthur is also the only one who can keep Micah in check aside from Dutch. Arthur chooses to work with him, so nobody else has to.
It's barely past noon, but a little celebration is born. People are singing and drinking, and while you're usually not much into booze, you make an exception this time. Micah, on the other hand, gets drunk faster than anybody else. That's probably why he tries to talk to you at all. You could never stand him and made that so clear that even a thickhead like Micah accepted that he should avoid you. Today, he seems to have forgotten all about that.
"Come on, doll. We've just gotten off to a bad start. I'm sure we can become friends."
The way he lets his eyes roam over your body makes it pretty clear that being friends is the last thing on his mind. Usually, you would have told him to get lost, but Arthur is walking over to get another beer, and an evil voice inside you tells you to get even.
"Friends, huh?" you say, reaching for the collar of Micah's shirt. You straighten it before running your fingers over his skin, playing with the little hairs on Micah's chest. "That all?"
Micah grins, trying to puff himself up. Instead, he sways dangerously, barely able to stand upright. "Oh, I can be more than that. Say the word, and I'll show you a good time."
It's not lost on you that Arthur hasn't moved from his spot. He's just standing there, listening in on your conversation. "Tell you what," you say, leaning over to Micah and dropping your voice, "I'll think about it, but you have to do a lot better than this."
Arthur drops the bottle he's holding, but Micah pays him no mind, too occupied with you. "Let's go right now."
"Get sober first," you say and push Micah, making him fall flat on his ass. You walk away, hearing Micah laugh behind you.
You hope that he's forgotten all about this when he wakes up. You don't have the nerve to keep him off your back again, but Arthur's reaction was worth it.
Not in the mood to participate in the festivities, you grab a basket from Pearson's wagon before venturing into the woods to find berries or mushrooms. The sun drops down through the trees, basking even the darkest places in a warm light. The bushes hang ripe with berries and picking a few, you wish everything was that easy.
You're about to move on when you hear something behind you. Pulling your knife out, you whisk around, the basket dropping to the floor. Arthur is coming out from behind a few trees, lifting up his hands as he sees you. "Just me."
"Why are you following me?"
"I was just heading into the woods," Arthur grunts. "Is that a crime now?"
You put away your knife and drop to your knees to collect the scattered berries. Arthur moves over to help you, annoying you even more. You can't be angry at him for being nice.
"Cowardice should be a crime," you murmur under your breath.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see how Arthur clenches his jaw, fighting not to give you an answer. Two berries later, he loses the battle. "I'm not a coward."
"If you say so."
"I'm not afraid," Arthur huffs, "just because I'm not an asshole like Micah."
You grab one of the berries so hard that it crushes in your hand. "At least he wants me and acted on it."
"Who says I don't want you?" Arthur hisses.
Your faces are only inches apart now, and you stay there to hold your ground. "If you want me, Arthur, you have to take me. You can't-"
You don't get a chance to finish the sentence. Arthur closes the gap between you and presses a hard kiss on your lips. At first, you're too stunned to react, but then you throw your arms around Arthur's neck, eager for more.
Spurred on by your reaction, Arthur moves closer, and you topple over into the grass, Arthur on top of you. He kisses you open-mouthed and sloppy, his hands digging into your sides. It's almost painful, but you can't hold back either, running your hands over his chest.
While opening his shirt, you rip off a button, and it flies away into the bushes, never to be seen again. Arthur kisses along your neck while his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts. You arch your back, pressing up against him, and Arthur opens your dress. With quick fingers, he manages to work it down enough to expose you and leans in to kiss every inch he can reach. You thread your fingers into Arthur's hair and can't help that you pull on it when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.
"Finally," you gasp, and Arthur reaches down to pull up your dress.
His hand immediately goes to your center, his hand sneaking into your underwear to tease your pussy. With how long you've been waiting for this and the rough treatment of Arthur now, it's no surprise that you're soaking wet for him, and Arthur moans against your skin at the touch.
"You really want to get ravished, huh?" he murmurs, and this time you pull his hair on purpose.
"You really should listen better."
"Fine," Arthur grunts, something in his voice that makes your skin tingle in anticipation. "Turn around."
He gives you free and helps you along, rolling you onto your stomach. "Arthur, what-?"
You can't finish the question and let out a surprised squeal when Arthur grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, forcing you to go on all fours. He pushes your skirt up with the same enthusiasm as before and pulls down your underwear, just enough to have access.
For a moment, you can't feel Arthur but hear him rummaging around with his own clothes. Then, a warm hand finds your thigh, the touch setting butterflies free in your stomach. Arthur might talk about ravishing you, but doesn't have it in him to hurt you, still way more careful than you're used to.
He moves closer, making you feel his heat as he brushes his cock along your wet folds before pushing in. You claw your fingers into the ground under you as Arthur stretches you open, pushing in deep until he draws a soft cry from your lips. He stills then, hesitating once more.
"Arthur, please," you say, pushing back against him, "more."
Finally, Arthur moves with more confidence. He thrusts into you while his fingers dig into your hips, holding on to you for leverage. Knowing that you're not that far from camp, you try your best to stay quiet, but with the way Arthur treats you now, you can't suppress eager moans.
When you add the occasional "God, yes" and call out Arthur's name, he groans and goes even harder. You dig your hands into the ground and push back against Arthur, your insides on fire. It borders on being painful, but you still can't help begging for more.
Arthur runs his hand over your back and up your neck before he fists his fingers into your hair. The touch alone sends heat waves through your body, and then Arthur pulls. You're forced to lift your head to avoid the pain and hollow your back, lifting your ass even higher in the process.
Using the new angle, Arthur takes you without mercy, holding on to your hair. You're completely under his control, unable to move unless you want it to hurt. Cries of pleasure escape you, and without warning, Arthur pushes you down on the ground.
He only glides out of you to get into a new position, then he forces your legs apart with his own, pushing back into you. You groan when you feel Arthur's weight on you, and he grabs your hair again, making you lift your head.
"Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?" Arthur asks, something dark in his voice.
Before you can answer, he already thrusts into you, and you remember how you talked about being ravished by a wild beast. It seems Arthur finally takes your words to heart. He barely gives you a second to breathe, holding you in that limbo between pain and pleasure, and your only choice is to take what he gives you.
When Arthur finally lets go of your hair, he puts his hand around your throat, and although there's no pressure on it, the gesture alone has you whimpering.
"You're mine now," Arthur says, his breath hot against your ear. "No more joking around with Micah, you understand?"
"I was just-"
Arthur only moves his fingers, and you become quiet, barely able to breathe.
"Try that again," Arthur says, and you swallow hard, sure that Arthur can feel it.
"No Micah," you say, and Arthur hums, satisfied.
He picks up the pace, only interrupting the way he ruts into you to pull back and push in deep, making you cry out each time. By now, you're sure that at least one person in camp must have heard you, but Arthur gives you no chance to think about it.
He's everywhere, his voice, his touch, and his cock, filling you up so good that you're trembling with lust. You feel like you can barely take it anymore when Arthur reaches under you, his fingers pressing against your clit. Trapped between his hand and the constant thrusts, you can't hold on any longer.
"Arthur, I-" you manage to say but break off when your orgasm hits your core and rushes in waves through the rest of your body.
Arthur holds still as your muscles tighten around him, letting you set the pace for now. You push back against him, riding the last waves before your body relaxes and Arthur glides out of you.
He carefully turns you around, cupping your face with his hand. "You're alright?"
You lift your head to kiss him, a big smile hopping onto your face. "More than alright."
"Good," Arthur says, kissing you back, and you reach down between the two of you.
"Come here, big boy."
Arthur moans when you grab his cock, and when he tries to protest, you kiss him and hold on to his neck. This time, it's you who doesn't give him a chance to move, your hand sneaking into his hair.
Arthur curses against your lips as you tuck at a few strands and his cock pulses in your hand. He buries his face against your neck, his hips bucking, and finally, everything goes quiet.
You both take slow breaths before Arthur lies down next to you, staring up into the trees.
"You know, we could have done that months ago," you say, unable to keep the snide out of your voice.
Arthur huffs. It's a single, somewhat defeated sound coming from deep within. "I admit it, I'm an idiot."
You turn to him, running your hand over his chest. "It's my fault, too. I could have been more forward instead of waiting until even Micah made a move."
"I said no Micah," Arthur groans.
"What? If it wasn't for him, you never would have made a move," you tease. "You should thank-"
Arthur moves over so fast that you barely see it before his lips seal yours.
"I thank Micah in hell," he growls, fury in his eyes. "And I think I said no more Micah talk."
"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes, but you can't help the tingling feeling that his voice sends all over your body. "I'll shut up if you make me."
Arthur laughs and leans over you, his lips almost touching yours. He grabs a strand of your hair, letting it run through his fingers. "I think I know just the way to do that."
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"you've made it your mission to always kiss me good morning, good night, goodbye and hello, and whenever you miss to do just that, even though i tell you you're being ridiculous, you feel bad about it, and always have to make up for it" with Kingo please 😇
Kingo x Reader
WC: 716
A/N: I tweaked this just a lil bit
You knew something was wrong when Kingo stopped kissing you. It was his favorite form of affection, and so when he missed your morning kiss while being tangled in bed... it worried you. Maybe he was just late for the set? He did stay up late the previous night. Trying to calm your thoughts wasn't working.
When you FaceTimed him from the set, he didn't blow you a kiss when he said goodbye. Just a blank face followed by a black screen. You throw your phone on the other side of the couch and growl. Kingo must have been busy... that's all.
You were 0 and 2 for kisses, and you started to miss the way his stubble brushed against you when he swooped in to kiss you on the cheek. The way his soft lips felt against your skin. "What's your problem?" Sprite asked that night over dinner that night, pushing her peas around with her fork.
You grimace and shrug your shoulders before stabbing your fork down into your chicken. The front door swings open, the sound of shoes falling onto the floor made its way to your ears. "I'm home!" Kingo sings, his wide smile making Sprite roll her eyes. "I know you missed me Sprite," he cooed, walking over and kissing her cheek.
The redhead complained and wiped her cheek up and down roughly, "That's so gross Kingo, what the hell?" she shrilled. You drop your fork, looking up at him in disbelief.
"Hi, honey," he chimes, not looking at you as his attention was being taken up by the food on the counter. Anger was starting to boil in your stomach. He kissed Sprite right in front of you, and that was platonic!
"Whatever. I'm going to bed," you mumble bitterly, excusing yourself from the table.
Kingo watched dumbfoundedly as you hurriedly left the room. His eyes glance down at Sprite who was puckering her thin lips, "You're in trouble," she snickers.
The actor didn't respond, he set his plate on the table and chased after you. Entering your shared room just after you slammed it shut behind him. "Y/N are you ok?" he asked worriedly.
You turn to look at him, warm tears threatening to spill from your y/e/c eyes. "What's wrong with me?" you scoff, "what's wrong with you? I barely got a hello this morning, Kingo. And you haven't kissed me once, you always kiss me." Your voice was faltering as you spoke, looking down at the carpeted floor.
Kingo's expression softened, looking at you with warm brown eyes. "Baby, I-" he began to say, his words barely coming out, "I didn't realize I didn't kiss you."
"You didn't realize? Kingo you go out of your way sometimes to kiss me. A-and you forget? Is something happening between us I don't know?"
Kingo's eyes go wide, rushing over to you and placing his hands on your shoulders "No!" he tells you, "No, of course not. I love you more than anything. I've been preoccupied..."
You roll your eyes, taking a step back and out of his grasp. "Preoccupied," you repeat with a mocking tone. He takes your hand, stopping you from turning away from him. You dared to meet his gaze, his eyes were- are those tears?
"Y/N I'm not good at keeping secrets, you know that. Yesterday I bought something and I guess I didn't realize I've been acting weird about it," he explained as he let you go. He rushed towards his bedside table and pulled out a small box, holding it up to you.
The rounded square box held in his palm, your eyes were fixed on it, "Kingo is that what I think it is?"
He chuckled as he made his way back to you, getting down on one knee and opening the box to reveal a large diamond ring, "I promise to give you all the kisses you desire till the end of time. Will you marry me, Y/N?"
With a small squeal, you lower yourself and wrap your arms around his broad, muscular shoulders. "Of course I will," you say before planting a kiss on him so strong it sends you both to the ground. Giggling together, Kingo wraps his arms around your waist and deepens the kiss to make up for earlier.
#kingo x reader#kingo x you#kingo imagine#kingo drabble#kingo fanfic#kingo fluff#eternals#eternals imagine#eternals blurb
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Spring breeze part.4 — Spencer Reid
Icon by @obiwansjedi
Part.1 Part.2 Part.3
Sumarry: After the breakup, Spencer and the Reader follow different paths and lives. But, after 8 years, Gideon's death brings an avalanche of emotions, putting the two face to face again in a reencounter that could break their hearts again — season 10 —
Couple: Spencer Reid /Gideon's daughter!reader.
Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence, death of the father, depressive thoughts, murder, crying, swearing, a lot of anguish, mention of love, fluff (but it has a very fluff too, I'm not a monster)
Word count: 5k.
A/N: This is the most sad chapter that has, I promise that the next will be very cute.💖
I saw Gideon's death episode again to make it as faithful as possible for you guys. I used the original Criminal Minds chronology too, being 8 years from Gideon's last appearance until his death.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
— — — — —
Hunting bandits. Save people. Improve the world a little bit every day. Those were the three things Spencer believed it was worth to be at BAU. It was worth fighting for, holding on, staying sleepless for days, being haunted by murderers by day and nightmares at night. For what it was worth looking at the abyss, even when it looks to you
Reid could deal with human perversion, with the thousand and one ways to practice heinous crimes, the sowing of evil and cruelty. He could cope with constantly being inside insane minds, learning his whys and mechanisms. He could take it. He put up with it day after day, case after case. He endured being tortured, stay being held at gunpoint, having a piece of his essence plucked with red-hot iron month after month. Spencer knew he could handle it.
But he couldn't handle death. Goodbye. It shattered his soul far more than difficult cases, pushed his own sanity to the limit. Perhaps burying his feelings as deeply as possible was just a method of delaying the wave that would drown him at one time or another. Inevitably.
Each farewell took a piece of Reid away. His father, his mother, Ellie, you, Gideon, JJ, were just a few of the people who left, living their lives elsewhere. But what about those who died? The victims, the children, Hayley, Maeve, Emily (even if only for a short time) and so many others. These took much more than a piece of him. Maybe costu his whole soul.
Spencer felt himself harden over the years, the cases, loss after loss, day after loss. He felt the purity of his own heart slip through his fingers like sand, the faith in humanity to be put to the test. Sometimes even faith in himself.
Was that the price to pay for that job? Being constantly vulnerable? See his life and the lives of the people his loved most at gunpoint?
It was worth?
Maeve's death shook him more than any other, sucking all the pink glow from his world, leaving him with only the cold feeling of hopelessness. A very deep void. It took a long time for memories of she not to hurt like red-hot iron, for his breathing not to be heavy. It took a long time to be happy again.
And when Spencer felt healed from the deepest wounds, the most visceral pains, he was hit again. Deeply. If Maeve's death was a wave that brought him down, Gideon's death was the tsunami that destroyed him.
“It's Gideon.” Hotch's voice confirmed the fear of everyone in that cottage.
Then Spencer felt shattered. Torn apart. Torn like a rag doll and placed on the fire. He wanted to scream, to scream so loudly that he would never regain his voice. He wanted to break something, destroy some, run away.
But run away from whom? From what? That pain or himself? If Spencer had been able to tear off his own skin at that time and be someone else, he would not have hesitated. Not having dropped to his knees in that cottage was a miracle, because Spencer no longer knew what was holding him upright.
Jason Gideon, in many ways, was all that Spencer had. He knew that they took different paths and traveled different roads, living different lives, but he believed that they always end up on the same, even one they was old. Spencer was sure that if he was dying on his knees, Gideon would be to rescue him. For all those 8 years, it was extremely comforting to think that Gideon was out there, living life, finding the hope he had in college, finding the brilliance the world had.
And Reid knew that Jason had you. And you had Gideon. That was the most soothing and comforting thought. No matter what, he knew that you would take care of Jason, just like he would take care of you. But now... now Spencer's world had dissolved in the air. Like a sandcastle knocked over by the wind.
And the pain was surreal.
When he realized, he had left the room, close to the... body. If he could, Spencer would have moved away from himself. How would he take it? One more death, another psychopath. How many other people he love will are died at the hands of the work he did every day?
The answer to all of these questions was frightening, and Spencer wasn't sure if wanted them.
The trip to the coroner was the worst Reid had ever done, talking about the body was the worst conversation he had ever had. And when Morgan put his hand on his shoulder and said that he couldn't close himself now, that they were going to get that son of a bitch, all Spencer wanted to say was that he couldn't take it anymore. That he couldn't breathe. The emptiness was too oppressive. So much visceral pain.
But that was not what Spencer said. He just clung to the only lifeguard in the middle of the rough and deserted sea: justice. Gideon deserve it.
Reid doesn't know how he managed to get back to the Gideon’s house, how he managed to hear Hotch and Rossi talking about what could have happened. But he was there, standing, by some miracle.
“Do you know who might want to have done this?” Hotch asked Stephen, who had arrived, his eyes red from the crying he struggled to hold.
“No. I know he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died... That's how we came back to speak, one of the things was to get back in touch.” His voice was so reminiscent of Gideon's that it was stabbed in the heart of Reid.
“Didn't he talk about being chased? Feeling anything strange?” Rossi commented.
Reid watched Stephen's expressions carefully, first because he reminded Gideon a lot, and second because he looked for any clues in his reactions.
Stephen took a second to think before saying: “No, but we both don't keep in touch daily, you know?” He swallowed a sob, probably with regret, but then his eyes lit up with some information: “'But Y/n surely know, they both spoke to each other every day, if my father was thinking differently, surely she know.”
The mention of your name hit Reid with a very different wave. Bringing a very different feeling than it should. At that moment, he felt himself holding the air.
For a second, a lapse of consciousness, Spencer had not connected any of this with your physical presence. The notion that you were Gideon's daughter was obvious but, for some reason, Spencer didn't think about the fact that you were going to be there. That you would share the same air with him again, the same place...
“We will have to call her, bring her here to see if something has been left, or taken. If there is anything important on the scene.” It was Hotch.
“I called her as soon as you guys called me.” Stephen said “She arrived from California the day before yesterday, my father and she were going to travel.” He tried to swallow the crying, his eyes trembling.
"And you weren't going?" Rossi added.
“I have a son and a wife.” He gave a smile broken by the sadness of the mourning “They would stop by before I go… Y/n was going to tell me the news, since our schedules hardly match much, she works as an astronomer in…”
“Caltech.” Spencer completed, without even realizing it, like a thought out loud.
“Yea.” Stephen agreed.
Spencer felt a chill go from head to toe, and another ton of feelings were thrown at his back. The reality that he was going to see you again hit him hard. Like an arrow. Suddenly, Reid wanted to get out of there. Run as far as possible.
He couldn't see you. He had no ability to deal with those feelings now. Not now, when his life was so overwhelmed with emotions for Gideon’s death that he still hadn't dealt Not when you aroused the feeling of... hope. Spencer can’t could hope, of any kind. Not for them to be taken from him with visceral force. Reid was already hurt enough for handling another fall.
“... But I don't think it's a good idea for my sister to be here, anyway.” Stephen continued to speak.
Rossi and Hotch frowned: “Why?”
“They were very connected. Seeing this scene is not going to do her any good...” he sobs this time “Y/n is not like me… she is sentimental, emotional. ”
“As long as you're trying to stay calm, she'll be the opposite.” Hotch completed.
“I just don't want my sister to suffer anymore and...”
But it was too late for Stephen to complete. It was too much for Spencer to escape. It was too late to be born again, in a different life.
A gray car moved forward on the stone road, at too high a speed not to have washed several road fines. That was so much typical of you who hurt Spencer's heart pieces more than he thought possible. More than he thought he could feel at the time. You were always so wild at the wheel. But Reid didn't have time to finish a thought, not even Rossi, Hotch, Morgan who was with them or even Stephen. Because car brutally stopped it, the door opened and…
And it was as if the sun came out from behind the clouds after years. As if summer had finally come after decades of overwhelming winter. In a burst, everything you've ever represented for Spencer has come back for him once again. And he felt the same thing that he felt when he first saw you, 8 years ago. And he was catatonic.
You got out of the car in a very hurried and desperate way. And as much as there were tears in your eyes and redness in cheeks, Spencer has never seen anyone so beautiful. Your hair was longer, in a brighter shade, maybe you had dyed it. Your features were more lyrical and beautiful, and Reid thought that the passage of time had no effect on you. While he considered himself just less clumsy over the years, you proved to be blooming like Romania's most superb rose.
“DAD!” But that was when your desperate voice brought Reid's consciousness back to earth.
You weren't calling your brother, you weren't asking why, you weren't in mourning. You were in denial. Disbelieving. You called out to your father, with the certainty that he would show up. And the despair in your eyes hurt Reid more than being shot.
But before the agents could do anything, you were running towards the house and Stephen ran towards you, taking you in his arms, trying to keep you from getting inside.
“LET ME GO, STEPHEN!” You struggled, trying to get rid of your brother's arms, your hair messing with the wind, tears streaming down your eyes. “They are wrong! It's not our father! Let me fucking go! DAD!”
“Y/n” Stephen had a broken heart in his eyes, some tears streaming down his eyes “You need to calm down before you get in there !”
“LET ME GO!” Yours sobs broke the hearts of the four agents over there “DAD!” You was cryng out, almost like a prayer, in a desperate call.
"He's gone, Y/n.” Your brother kept his arms stronger in you, trying to contain you while you struggle in trying to break free and go inside the house, under the illusion that you would find your father there.
“NO!” Now your crying was continuous “I spoke to him yesterday! It's not him, Stephen!” Then your brother turned you to him, holding you tight, and you melted into a visseral pain “It can't be him!”
“I know...” he sobbed, looking at you with the same shared pain “I know...”
So you gave yourself up to a painful, loud and desperate crying, the kind that won't let you breathe. And, unlike Reid, you fallen down. Your knees found the stone and grass floor, your hands clasped on Stephen's shirt, who knelt on the floor with you, delivered the pain you both shared.
You knew what your father's risks were in working in such a dangerous profession. Expose yourself to constant and frightening danger. You always knew about the risks, you just tried to ignore them all your life, sinking your fears about your father not coming home at night. Then, when he let the BAU, that fear dissipated. You felt a colossal weight being lifted off your shoulders, like tons of lead, and you let go of a fear so great that you didn't even know you had it.
For 8 years you thought that the chances of him not coming home were over, that the chances of seeing him the next day had increased dramatically. For 8 years you two traveled together, stopping at every type of diner for milkshake, chocolate ice cream and mint - his favorites - For 8 years you had your best friend, the only thing you knew you had in the world. You always knew that if you were drowning in the ocean, it would be your father who would give his lungs for you to breathe.
You didn't see a life without Gideon.
For you, you were crying for hours in what one day was your father's backyard, totally devastated, but for the rest of the world it was a matter of minutes.
Your sobs were so loud and real that Hotch and Rossi caught themselves with watery eyes, perfectly understanding the pain you were going through, the devastation. The two had lost many people, many of them being essential pieces to be able to continue breathing. Many of them felt wounds that would never heal.
But it was Rossi who approached you, the pain at the top of his throat, his mind wandering the day Gideon said he was going to have a little girl. Unlike Stephen, Rossi never saw you in person, but the sparkle in Jason's eyes whenever he talked about you, or with you on the phone, was enough to know that you were one of the essential pieces to keep breathing.
“Hi, my name is Rossi.” He knelt in front of you and your face went towards him, your cheeks and nose as red as your eyes.
“M-my dad talked about you."” You were still sobbing, slowly letting go of Stephen's shirt.
"Good things, I hope.” The two of you laughed like a sigh, and soon the pain returned to your eyes in a visseral way. “I know this is not fair, and I know it is asking too much, but I need you to go inside and try to find something out of place. Something that whoever did this to your father may have taken or left. ”
You closed your eyes in pain, tears streaming as you sobbed. Your hands, trembling and cold, went to your face, perhaps trying to hide from reality, perhaps wiping away tears. Maybe both. When you looked back at Rossi again, you saw the pain in his eyes too.
"I don't know if I can do it.” You admitted, your voice shaking.
"I know.” Rossi took his hand to yours, squeezing comfortingly “But only you can help us now, help other daughters not lose their father to the same killer. Being inside in the house can bring information that is in your subconscious. I promise you will make it, we will all be here with you.”
His handshake got stronger, and it reminded you of your father. That should have been the same way he comforted the victims' relatives, the way he was supposed to act with people.
'Everyone is somebody's son.' That's what Gideon said. It hit you like an atomic bomb. And, for a moment, you thought it was possible to die of sadness.
You squeezed Rossi's hand tightly, as if you were looking for courage. When you opened eyes again, you gave a weak nod. Carefully, as if any sudden movement is capable of causing you more pain, you stood up, your legs wobbly, your heart bleeding, sadness clouding your vision. Rossi put his hand behind your back, in a way to make sure him were there, as an anchorage in reality that would not let you get lost in the valley of sadness and pain.
As you walked up to the house, you didn't see the other agents, you didn't see the trees, the cars. At that time, you didn't even know what color the sky was anymore. It was like a suspended moment, when the world is in slow motion, the hemisphere is terrified. The sadness was palpable in the breeze, in the way that the rays of the sun did not reach the ground. The whole land looked like mourning.
As soon as you stepped inside the house, the smell of home and Gideon hit your nose, and you felt your face tighten in an expression of pure pain. You didn't notice the agents coming in behind you, you didn't notice Penelope and JJ. You just saw the furniture, the decor, his stuff. As if Gideon had just left for the market and was going to come back.
Everything was in was there. Minus the most important thing: him.
You did not notice when Rossi left you, you did not notice who approached. Everything was in a haze of pain.
But that's when you saw the strong blood marks on the floor, stuck to the wood with possession. A cold shiver as sighed from death ricocheted through your entire body, bristling all over your skin. In a burst, like the bursting of a violin string, the mist dissipated, the state of tupor burst, and reality hit you with overwhelming force.
And then the plug fell.
Jason Gideon had died.
You fell again, barely noticing the sobs and loud crying starting to come out again, the most desperate and painful in you life. But this time the arms that took you were different, bringing with you sensations that you haven't felt in a long time. That a long time ago you forgot that you could feel.
They were long, thin, and contained a vigor hidden beneath the thin facade. The smell of his presence was… heaven. That feeling was your anchorage on the high seas, in the valley of despair, and you clung to him for fear of drowning, of not finding your way back home.
You didn't have to see it to know who it was.
You turned to the arms that took you, now Spencer kneels with you on the floor, and you cried in a way that you never cried before, with a visseral pain. Your hands went to the brown cardigan he wore, closing there as if the fabric was your only chance for salvation.
So you looked at the immensity of the his brown irises.
"He was the only thing I had, Spen.” You sobbed loudly with the crying, gently swaying his coat, your voice utterly torn.
Spencer felt his eyes sting, his throat lock and the remains of what was his heart ache in a hideous way.
“I know.” He felt a tear run down his left cheek, his hands on your arms.
At this time, the two of you supported each other. Gideon meant a lot to you two. An irreplaceable role in yours life. And Spencer knew that was what you were talking about when you said:
"He was the only thing we both had.” You closed your eyes, your hands still firmly on his coat, your heart pounding.
But this time Spencer's voice was just as broken when he said: “I know.”
Then he hugged you.He hugged you for everything. He hugged you because it was a pain that only you two could understand. He hugged you because you needed it, and because he needed too.
Jason Gideon had a special connection with you two, a connection that only the two of you had ever experienced. Each relationship with Gideon was different, special in different ways, but only the two of you had him as a protector, mentor, a much more paternal and confidant figure. He was the kind of person you could leave your life in his hands, the kind who would teach you the secret of the worlds, show you what goodness was and at the same time strength. And you two had that.
You stained Reid's coat with tears, and Reid stained you with the strong smell he had. He stepped far enough away to be able to see your face perfectly, at a considerable distance, and, against everything he had ever done before with anyone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes fixed on your in pain shared.
“We will catch how did it.” Reid assured you, as if he had tattooed this words on your skin. You closed your eyes in pain, but he brought you back “Hey, keep looking at me."
So you did it. Because you would always follow Spencer. To hell if he asked.
"Don't take your eyes off mine, okay?” His voice was so sweet, so gentle, and you couldn't have done anything but agree. “When was the last time you spoke to Gideon?”
“Yesterday.” You replied “We were going to travel to the beach today, I took a vacation from work.”
“Was he at home when you two talked?”
The team looked at each other, with several questions in those look.
You denied it, the hiccup now because of the shortness of breath you had because of the crying.
“He stopped at Roanoke for...” and that's when you seemed to remember something.
Your eyes widened softly, your lips trembled, and you let out a stammering sigh as you try to remember something very important.
“What do you remember?” Spencer stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to calm the beating of your heart that went back to being frantic and making you focus on the question, not the sea of emotions you felt.
“He…” was when your eyes fluttered before meeting Reid's again. “He said he saw a woman on the news who was found dead. And ... and that he had to make sure of one thing ”
Rossi looked at Hotch, who gave an attentive and objective expression.
“Did he tell you why?” His eyes closed again and you sobbed. Reid moved closer, bringing your face back in his direction again “Look at me, Y/n.”
As soon as you did, he gave you a gentle smile, but contained all the pain in the world. He understood what you were felling.
“Why was he interested in the case?” He changed the question.
“I-it was something about...” you searched in your mind “Girl named Tara. I don’t know. He mentioned about a blue butterfly tattoo on her ankle as well, and that it was something to do with a… a case or something.”
“1978” Rossi interrupted and everyone looked at him “Gideon and I worked on a case in 1978, the suspect was never caught and Tara was a teenager who we thought had been kidnapped by him. The killer left dead birds in the hands of the victims ”
“But he didn't mention birds and...” That's when your eyes, fluttering, darted around the room and you stopped abruptly.
Spencer turned his attention to you again, seeing that you were staring somewhere. His hands slowly left your face and he asked:
“What?”
“The board.” You pointed to your father's board, which had a beautiful brown bird.
“Does say anything to you?” Rossi turned his attention to you.
You shook your head, your body too exhausted to go to the painting and examine it.
“He shot the board.” You looked at the agents “My father loved that painting, he never would have done that. Even though my father is stunned, he has the best aim I have ever seen.”
“The devil is in the details." Rossi went to the pinting and, after two seconds, turned to the team and said “I already know who did this.”
You let out a gigantic sigh of relief as the agents split up to continue the case, speaking so fast that you couldn't keep up.
“I helped?” You looked at Spencer, tears still shining in your eyes.
He smiled and nodded “Very.”
But when he got up, you took his hand, making Reid turn his attention back to you again, a questioning look on his face.
“You're going to get it, aren't you?” The sob invaded your voice "Promise me that you will catch him, Spen."
Reid took his hand in your, giving you a strong, comforting squeeze before saying:
"I will. I promise.”
And then he left, along with the other agents.
- - -
You thought you knew what pain was, the loss, the tightness in the heart. You thought that your many relationship breakdowns showed you what it was like to suffer. But you have never been so wrong. None of that compared to how you were now, to what you felt.
You would trade that feeling for anything in the world.
This was terrible. A cold, coercive, brutal and cruel feeling. As if you were at the bottom of a black ocean, unable to breathe, falling deeper and deeper, consumed by the overwhelming cold of the water.
It was impossible to say in words how you felt. But if it were you had to define it in one word you would say: pain. A pain that bends you, a pain that makes you want to scream, that pierces your lungs so that it is not possible to breathe, but that even so, you fight for air.
It was pain at its rawest, most brutal, sharp and atrocious like a dagger blade. You would go through Dante's hells for eternity instead of living one day with that pain.
Since Spencer and the agents went after the person in charge, you have sat on the steps of the front door, watching the nature, the shaking of the trees, but your attention was so far, far away. Perhaps unattainable.
Gideon always loved watching the seasons go by, and in that moment, you wondered if looking at the same thing he looked at every day would make you feel close to him. Feel with him. It had only been three days since you last saw him, when he picked you up at the airport, but you felt like you were past three lives. How would you go without it? How were you able to think of living without it?
You pulled your knees up against your chest, hugging your legs, the metallic, atrocious and icy taste of devastation stuck to yours in your mouth. The trees shook hard, forcing the birds to fly away, but you didn't feel cold. You were not feeling the cold breeze hit your body, nor were your muscles contracting in exhaustion from the hard wood of the steps you were sitting on.
The hunger, the cold, the heat or the craving could not reach you, as if the pain had paralyzed all your system. Probably your soul.
You didn't see when Stephen put father's blanket over your shoulders, nor did you hear his sobs for seeing you so devastated. But you smelled Gideon, and the warmth of the blanket was like having his arms around you again. Then the rest of the water in your body found its way to your eyes and crying was as automatic as breathing.
You were clinging to Spencer taking the son of a bitch who did it, trying to chase away any other thoughts that weren't about that. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he was caught. Which meant his capture for you. It would bring justice to Gideon, honoring his name, his life, but it wouldn't bring him back. What was taken from you would not be repaired, regardless of the end of that damned man.
When he was caught, you would have nothing else to focus on instead.
You don't know how long you stayed there. Hours? Days? The those peach and gold tones in the sky is from dusk or the dawn of a new day?
You had lost track of time, as if your watch had stopped since the time Gideon died.
The sound of cars on the road was the only thing that pulled you out of your fucking valley, and as soon as the black SUVs stopped, you stood up as if you had been waiting your whole life for that moment. The blanket fell from your shoulders, heart accelerated at an alarming rate, and for a second, everything was gone from your mind.
Rossi was the first to get out of the car, but yours eyes darted to Reid. You wanted to run, ask what had happened, listen to the answers. But you were paralyzed in place. Afraid of the truth, of reality.
What would become of you after that news?
Spencer came towards you without hesitation, and you couldn't take your eyes off him for a second. He didn't say anything, nor did he explain anything. It was not needed. The way he reached out his hand and placed your father's rings in your palm were enough answers.
Your whole body shook and you looked at Reid with more emotions than askers.
"He is dead." He told you, and it made you fall down again.
But this time you fell into his hugging, clinging to him in despair. There were many meanings in that embrace: gratitude, relief, fear, pain and grief. And Spencer hugged you back in the same way.
You two stayed that way for a while, even when the agents went to talk to Stephen, even when Garcia and JJ left the house, even when the cold wind hit you both.
“Thanks." You heard yourself say it, and Spencer shook his head, signaling that it wasn't necessary, and the two of you moved away.
So you went to Rossi, and hugged him too. In that second, Rossi could feel Gideon in that hug, and it took a second to not cry.
“Your father was a great man." He told you when the two of you walked away, and you agreed on a sad smile.
"He was." You looked down at the rings in your hand, staying a second there before turning to the agents and saying: “You guys are going to the funeral, aren't you? I ... my dad would like it w-very much.”
"Of course." Rossi guaranteed it.
As they walked away and went back to the car, heading for their own houses, your eyes met Spencer's and he whispered in the air to you:
“I will see you at the funeral."
You nodded, giving you a sad, grateful smile. And while everyone was leaving and you were looking at the rings in your hand again, you had a feeling that your story with Spencer had just started over.
A/n: I also lost a very important person to death, and for everyone who went through it too, I mean that no one is alone! My message box is open if you need anything! Love you❤️
Tagged @gublersuvula
@peculiarinsomniac
@measure-in-pain
@nobutalsoyes
🍒 @misshale21
#spencer reid x y/n#dr. spencer reid#spencer x derek#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#jason gideon#david rossi#mgg x reader#mgg fluff#mgg x you#mgg imagine#mgg#mgg fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader
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Anchor ⚓|| JHS
Pairing: Husband!au Hoseok x Wife!au reader.
Word count: 1k +
Warning: slight angst, brief mention of sex, very slight smut. Super fluffy.
Synopsis: As an artist, Hoseok came to understand that in order to appreciate art, you have to focus on the little details, and that was no different when it came to your relationship because it's a piece of art in itself. Or Hoseok reminisces on his favourite moments with you.
A/N: Edit is taken from the application Nichi, I only added a few stuff.
If you're interested to read something similar to this work for Hoseok, click here.💛
When they asked Hoseok how you both made it so far, he was at loss for words that could describe the magnitude of love, care, understanding, sacrifices, communication and patience that your relationship held. His brain displaying vivid images, a video of your memories spent together from the moment you met till the present day. No matter how he tried to conjure up words that describe the feelings he felt, he would never do it justice.
Your soft lips planted small kisses all over his face in a silent urge to wake him up. He smiled at the feeling of your lips that you made sure to moisturise before you went to bed. His head turned lazily to capture said soft lips in an idle good morning kiss that; even though it was nothing special, yet it took his breath away. The look in your eyes every morning with the sun rays accentuating your warm eye colour made him get lost in a non-existent dreamy world of fluffy clouds and cosy feelings bubbling inside his chest. He pulled you into his arms, basking in the warm silence of the morning before you both had to get up and begin your day.
Hoseok loved how you preserved your innocence in a harsh world. You were not some kind of angel, but your insistence to teach yourself to be patient and to learn to always see the good in the bad amazed him, and he slowly found himself infected by your persistence to become a better person because as you always told him: "nobody's perfect, Hobi, but we can always aspire to become whatever is near perfect," He found himself agreeing with you; however you were the only exception. To him, you are perfect.
The child-like behaviour that took over you when you were surrounded by kids never failed to draw a big fat smile on his lips. After running around, chasing your little cousin in an attempt to try and catch him, you settled on one of the bean bags next to Hoseok as your little cousin settled in the one in front of you. His small body lied on the big bean bag, small feet kicking at your knee, eyes looking at you with mischief from underneath his heavy lashes as he suddenly burst into childish babbles, making you chuckle and start to imitate him. The action made your other cousin, his sister who was only older than him by two years, join in with your babbling. Hoseok looked at you in admiration; he felt lucky to experience such private and sweet little moments with you. That night before you departed from your family's house, your baby cousin was sound asleep in your arms, a scene that made Hoseok's heart full as his eyes engraved the memory in the back of his mind. Something that like any other couple you both dreamed of and that is to start your own family...someday.
Apologizing was never an issue to you, seeing that you grew up owning your mistakes and taking responsibility whenever it was your fault. "I am sorry," you whispered kneeling in front of Hoseok looking right into his eyes. Sincerity evident in your glistening eyes, you set your hands on his knees as you waited for his reply. Sometimes he wondered how your ego never stood in the way of you apologising. "I am sorry. I promise I won't do it again," you apologised again for the discomfort that you've caused your husband. Hoseok sighed as he hugged you in a tight embrace, he could never stay mad at you, never. "It's okay Jagiya," he kept saying, rubbing your back in soothing circles to calm your silent sobs. "I am sorry,"
"I know, Jagiya. It's okay,"
Being intimate nowadays to some young couples like you represented nothing but wild, crazy, sex. You realised how it became a non-existent competition between whose husband or boyfriend made his partner feel better whenever you hang out with your friends. When it came to you and Hoseok, you vowed to never share such intimate details; it was something about the both of you that did not concern anybody else. You both also agreed to cherish those moments like how you both held hands when you both reached your peak. Your wedding ring glistening in the soft glow of the soft light that engulfed you both, catching Hoseok's eyes, reminding him that you were his and he was yours. He adored the way your lips met his in a desperate kiss, silently telling him how much you love him. Your muffled moans, like a rare good piece of music to his ears. The way you circle your arms over his shoulders pulling him close for a few seconds before the two of you pulled apart from the heaving and sweaty embrace. This was a world of your own that no one has the right to invade its borders. Exclusive only for both of you to enjoy and experience.
Communication was also the main contributor to your relationship. Hoseok remembers during Jimin's wedding when he made a toast saying "Hobi hyung and y/n are like role models to me. The way they loved and doted on each other isn't like anything I have ever seen before." Hoseok took your hand in his, lightly squeezing it. I love you, you turned your head smiling softly at him, your smile saying I love you, too back. Your eyes searched his face with a look of adoration before you pecked his lips and settled your head on his shoulder. Jimin was right; the boys rarely witnessed any of you raising your voice in anger towards the other, instead, you would both try and talk to each other. The fact that you were aware that communication is an important element to any relationship made you stand against so many hardships that could've broken you up. "So, here's to Hobi hyung and y/n for being my favourite couple of all time," Jimin said raising his glass, making his wedding attendees burst in laughter and awes.
Life wasn't always easy on the both of you, just as there were ups, there were downs as well; nevertheless, you remained stronger than ever with each others' embrace, not just physically but also mentally. Hoseok sighed as you pulled him into your chest, tears escaping down his face. Your warm embrace was enough to put his fast heartbeats in sync with your steady ones. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to, you just pulled him into your arms ready to stand and fight against what was bothering him. Hoseok also didn't need anything else other than the reassurance of you being there for him. "Do you want to talk about it, baby?" You whispered softly, running your finger through his chestnut hair. Shaking his head, he put his head into your neck, body entangled with yours in a beautiful mess on your sofa. "I just want you to keep on holding me," he answered back. You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. If that's what he needs then that's what you're giving him. I am right here, love you tried to put your thoughts into action by rubbing his back and running your fingers through his hair now and then. He placed a small kiss on your neck as a silent thank you.
One of the things that you loved about your relationship was sharing what you both loved to do together.
You sat between Hoseok's spread legs, his arms circling you in a tight embrace as you read a book that held a small collection of poems that you really liked. Hoseok kept on slowly placing passionate kisses along your face starting with the side of your forehead, your cheek, your jaw, till he reached your neck and nibbled lightly on your skin. "Hobi!" You whined turning to look at him. " What, love," he smiled at your pout, "please, focus," you said trying to sound serious as you turned your attention to the poem that you were reading. "Baby, I am focused," he said continuing with his distractions making you giggle as you turned your whole body into his embrace, circling your hands around his neck with the poetry book still in your grasp. He felt the cold pages that flowed with art slightly touching the back of his neck. You looked all over his face before leaning in, kissing him, softly biting his bottom lip as you slowly released it. A playful gaze underneath your lashes was displayed to him as soon as you opened your eyes. You pecked his lips one last time before turning in your original position with a smirk on your pretty features. "Focus," you said again continuing with your reading, leaving Hoseok in a complete daze. He chuckled, before pulling you closely and nestling his head beside yours as his eyes scanned the poem you were reading.
"Y/n!" Hoseok whined as you yet again made a wrong step making you both stumble and fall on the floor of the dance studio. Lately, you've been wanting to try learning tango. Something which made Hoseok not hesitate for a second and jump immediately at the chance of dragging you to his safe haven, the dance studio. You laughed at your failed attempt with Hoseok hovering over you shaking his head with a smile on his face. "I am sorry, turns out it's not as easy as it looks," you said calming down from your laughter. "Baby, it is easy you just need to pay attention," he said pulling you up with him. "Come on. Let's try again," Not a few minutes later Hoseok whined your name, again, as he pulled back from your laughing figure, pulling slightly at his hair in frustration. Your laugh echoing throughout the studio put a small smile on his face as he shook his head. "Baby, no don't be frustrated," you whined playfully running towards him, jumping to wrap your legs around him. Hoseok holding you by your thighs while your hands rested on his shoulders. He laughed at your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere as you sensed his failure to help you learn a few moves. He looked up at you, chuckling when he was faced by your excited gaze and your small smile that he knew would burst any moment into a big one any second now. You leaned in to give him a kiss to encourage him which he reciprocated with so much love. Pulling back you push yourself off him, "let's try again. I promise I'll get it right this time," you said pecking his jaw. He nodded, his eyes no longer held frustration, but determination mixed with adoration to help you learn. That's how it always has been with you and Hoseok.
Shaking his head slightly to come out of his bubble, he looked at the interviewer still incapable of describing your relationship. Maybe someday when you both grow old together, he would consider writing a book to try and convey his feelings for you because by then you both would have learned more about each other and experienced every dimension of the other. So, for now, he was satisfied with his short answer which he knew that only you and he understood that it held so much more than the simplicity of it, "I don't know, I guess that's what love does, right?" He said smiling into the camera...
#bts#bts scenarios#bts jung hoseok#bts jhope#bts hobi#jung hoseok x oc#jung hoseok x reader#jung hoseok x you#jung hoseok smut#jung hoseok fluff#jung hoseok angst#jung hoseok fanfiction#jung hoseok fic#jung hoseok scenarios#jung hoseok aesthetic#jhope x y/n#jhope x reader#jhope x you#jhope x oc#jhope smut#jhope fluff#jhope angst#jhope fanfic#jhope aesthetic#hobi x y/n#hobi x oc#hobi x you#hobi x reader#hobi fanfic#hobi imagine
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fallen from grace [Giyuu Tomioka]
TW: implied brainwashing? Idk the reader is basically a siren, blood letting and drinking, dark content, written at ass o'clock
When you were turned into a demon, Giyuu was certain you would be like the rest of them. He had no hope and was fully prepared to take your life, to end your suffering as a bloodthirsty animal but you ran, faster and stronger because of your human blood still racing through your veins. He searched for you, interrogated other demons for years until he stopped seeing the point. Giyuu tried so hard not to think of you, pushing his memories of your time together into the furthest reaches of his mind until he met the siblings, seen the girl protect her human brother. That tiny flame of hope Giyuu tucked away in his soul became a wildfire and all thoughts of you came rushing back along with heartbreaking yearning for your gentle touch.
He started searching once again, efforts tripled until he finally found you. He found you at a lakeside, sitting on a mossy rock and humming a familiar tune. You looked like a goddess, framed by idyllic forest and the fireflies dancing in the night. You didn't change much. Your hair was longer, tips crimson, your eyes were no longer that brilliant shade you loved the most as a human but you were still all soft curves and gentle smiles. You looked at him as if he was all that you've been waiting for, like he was the one who ran away.
Giyuu has always been a good man. Silent, strong and smart, talented with a sword. He was admirable but somewhat oblivious to how other people perceived him. Not to you though. With you, he couldn't hide himself, shove back his desires and darkest thoughts. With you, Giyuu let himself sink into depravity. Maybe it was your demon nature or maybe it was because he remembered you from before- bright smiles, silver tongue and strength hidden beneath a fluffy exterior. Giyuu didn't know nor did he particularly care.
"You're beautiful." Giyuu didn't know what prompted him to break the silence nor why those were the first words to come from his mouth. He was enchanted by your appearance, by your graceful movements as you beckoned him closer. You were still humming that alluring tune, voice so lovely that it resonated somewhere deep in his soul.
Maybe it's your presence, that enchanting voice or the alluring scents of nature (of you) that made Giyuu drop all of his walls down. After all, most of his life has been spent in search of you and now that he found you… Why couldn't he let himself enjoy this moment of happiness? Giyuu reached out towards you and you took Giyuu's hands in yours, pulling him closer and into your embrace. His lovely blue eyes traced each part of your face, memorizing that which he was already familiar with from a lifetime before. Giyuu was warm in your arms, sinking against your body like a doll whose strings were cut off. You smiled, lips framing your sharp teeth.
"And you're looking as tasty as ever, slayer." Your words made Giyuu's thoughts swim, disconnected. He could not think of anything else but you, making you happy, giving everything he is to you. "I've watched you, little mouse, seen you fight my kind and it made me ravenous."
Giyuu shuddered at your words and yet did nothing. He let you nuzzle his neck, lick a strip up to his jaw. You nibbled on his soft skin, tempting yourself with a taste of his flesh. And yet, Giyuu wasn't afraid. He yearned for more, for a revival of heated memories when you two were the same, when you were both human and weak, equal before the gods.
"It isn't often that a snack enters my den all by himself. Usually, there's more of you wretched humans disturbing my oasis." You speak, breath warm and tickling Giyuu's ear. Your hands pull him onto your lap, making him straddle you. Giyuu looks down at you, brain foggy from all sensations you brought on. "But you, little mouse, you're different. Makes me want to keep you like a good pet."
Giyuu allows you to pull him in for a kiss. It's hunger and fire, consuming him until he feels like nothing will be left of him. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your clothes as he struggles with himself, with the instincts urging him to rut against you, to moan and beg. Your claws slice through his clothes with ease, baring his skin to the cool air, to your own wandering hands. Giyuu gasps, ripping his mouth away from yours, out of breath. Your name echoes off the trees as you lavish his neck and chest with licks and bites, leaving marks on his pale skin. You break skin with your teeth on his chest, drawing blood. He whimpers as you lick it up then suck on the tiny wound. It's odd and dangerous but still a thrill Giyuu doesn't want to miss out on.
"What a good boy you are." It's a coo, a praise wrapped in a patronizing tone Giyuu usually hated but didn't mind now because it came from you. "Such a good snack, not struggling when I indulge a little taste."
You look into his eyes as your touches become more daring, lips still smiling even as your eyes devoured all of Giyuu's reactions. Giyuu's head fell back once you grasped his dick, fingers wrapping almost too hard around his length but a little pain was good as long as you were touching him.
"Look at me." You commanded and Giyuu obeyed immediately, eyes wide at your harsh tone. He didn't want you to be mad, to stop the movements of your hand. "What kind of a slayer are you? Wanting to fuck a demon of all things. You're messed up, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell, it's our little secret."
Giyuu felt his eyes tear up. It's been years since he last cried but your words struck a cord even as he felt pleasure from your hand and the tone of your voice. He felt so ashamed of himself. Indeed, what kind of a slayer was he?
"Are you going to cry, little mouse?" You laughed, hand moving faster over his dick. "I wonder what your friends would say if tiny could see you now. They'd probably laugh at you. Or maybe some would join me in my fun and we could all have a turn with you."
Giyuu whimpered, teeth clenched over his lips. The thoughts you put in his head were tempting, far too much for him.
"You're so close, aren't you?" You ask, knowing full well that it won't take long before Giyuu broke apart. "Don't worry, you can cum whenever you want."
Giyuu fucked into your fist, enjoying the squeeze of your fingers, every teasing pass over his leaking head, your demeaning yet arousing words. It didn't take that long for him to spill all over your hand, making a mess. A mess you happily fed to him until there was nothing left.
"On your knees, slayer." You ordered, pushing him out of your lap to his knees. Giyuu watched as you stripped, showing yourself off and he wondered what he did to deserve such a treat. Your body seemed to glow with some inner light, once again reminding Giyuu of a goddess. You were terrifying in your beauty and all Giyuu could think of was worshiping every inch of your being. "Good boy."
You sat back on your rock, straightening your left leg until your foot was on Giyuu's shoulder and he placed his trembling hand on your joint. He could feel your eyes on him as he kissed your leg, slowly moving upward until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. Giyuu looked up at you, eyes seeking permission to go further and a moan broke from him as you nodded. He dived in between your legs, arms over your thighs as he kissed then licked and sucked at all the right places of your pussy. Your taste was exquisite, like ambrosia sent down from heavens. Your scent was heady and your soft sighs like music to him.
You praised him, one hand gentle in his hair, pushing him further into you. Giyuu thought that he could die right now, with no regrets, just because he made you feel like this. You were so wet, so warm and sweet… Giyuu couldn't get enough. You cried out when his fingers, rough from sword handling, entered you, moving first slowly then faster until you were grinding against Giyuu's face, panting as you came closer to the edge. Giyuu looked up at you from between your legs, eyes focused on the ecstasy on your face. He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot inside of you and your thighs locked around his head, keeping him still as you rode out your orgasm.
You hunch over him, pulling his head from between your legs, cradling his face in a gentle hold. Giyuu knows that he probably looks a mess from your arousal, face wet and red, but it was worth the sweet look if your eyes and hunger on your face. He'd let you devour him whole if only that was his last memory.
You push him down, sinking to your knees and straddling his hips. Your hands caress his chest, fingers curling and your claws leave red lines on his skin. Another mark Giyuu would be happy to carry on into his next life. He's out of words and breath when you sink onto him, taking him to the deepest reaches of your body and all he can do is hold onto your hips as you ride him hard and fast. Giyuu knows that you're just using him, that he should be happy that you gave him the honour of feeling your wet heath grip his dick, clench around him.
"Thank you, thank you…" The words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden but truthful. He cums when you laugh at him, when your clawed hand wraps around his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.
You continued riding him, drawing tears from his pretty eyes from overstimulation. You ride him until you've milked him dry and got your fill of ecstasy. A growl rips from somewhere deep in your chest as you cum, grinding down on him to get those little aftershocks of pleasure. Your hand moves from Giyuu's throat, fingers chasing sweat drops on his chest. You lie down on top of him, humming that same tune from before.
Giyuu doesn't particularly care that your teeth are close to his jugular, that you're splitting open his skin to lick up his blood. All he knows and wants is to stay with you, surrounded by your warmth.
"Poor little slayer." You murmur into Giyuu's ear, voice filled with pity and something else Giyuu cannot comprehend. "So many desires unspoken, so many wishes not coming through. Do not worry, I'll take care of you."
The slayer never noticed the miasma descending around you two, just closed his eyes as you sang him to sleep. He looked like a doll as you picked him up, body limp as you carried him up into the trees. You set him up among many other humans in your den but took special care to preserve him.
"My little mouse." You purred, caressing Giyuu's face, tracing his lips. "I'll be good to you, no one will ever found you or hurt you here."
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MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ
c h a p t e r t e n
- park chanyeol x oc
- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]
- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence
- work count : 2,970
previous chapter or next chapter
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Eunyeong sat outside of the general's tent with Baekhyun next to her side. The moon was officially high in the sky, accompanied by all of its twinkling friends. The general and his second hand in command had decided to keep the mole hidden in the forest until night arrived. Then, the escorted him back to the general's tent to question him.
"What's taking so long?" Baekhyun whined with a pout apparent on his face. Eunyeong only glanced at him in response. She was feeling antsy herself after the day's events. It had been half an hour and there was no sign of any activity in the tent.
"Does your head feel okay?" The woman asked after a few seconds of silence passed.
Baekhyun gave a small sigh as he lifted his hand up to his head. "It doesn't hurt as much as it did earlier."
"Good," the woman hummed. "I'll make sure it never happens again."
Just as she finished speaking, the tent entrance flew open. The general stepped out in a rush, only pausing his movements when he saw the pair of soldiers sitting outside of his tent. His eyes narrowed in annoyance when he meet Eunyeong's eyes.
"He won't speak to us," the man explained.
"Of course not," the woman huffed in exhaustion as she picked at the grass beneath her. "The other two we brought back with us didn't say anything, either. These people are impressively silent."
The general stood with his hands resting on his hips. He looked off into the distance for a few moments, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration. Baekhyun complained about wanting to sleep as they sat there unsure of what to do next.
"Maybe you should just go sleep. I doubt anything exciting will happen tonight," the woman told the man. "Besides, you should get rest after what happened to you today anyways."
Baekhyun didn't smack the woman's hand away as she reach up and pushed his hair away from the scratch on his forehead. A deep frown rest on her face as she stared at the small injury.
"Goodnight," the general suddenly snapped. Both of the soldiers turned to look at the man who was staring down at them with a scowl.
"Uh," Baekhyun gave a nervous laugh. "Goodnight?"
"Go," the general instructed the man. Eunyeong watched as the tall man lifted his hand and pointed in the direction of the soldiers' tents. Baekhyun scrambled to his feet and bowed respectfully before he trotted off to sleep for the night. Eunyeong went to follow after him, but was stopped by a large hand wrapping around her forearm. She stopped and looked up, meeting the general's dark eyes as she did so.
"Not you," he told her. The woman's face contoured into an expression of confusion. The man dropped his hold on her arm before he ducked back into the tent. Eunyeong hesitated before she entered behind him.
Inside sat Kyungsoo and the mole. Kyungsoo was staring at the man with a glare so hateful that Eunyeong felt afraid to even breath in the same air as him. How the mole hadn't spoken up about anything yet was a mystery to her. One look from the intimidating man would have her spilling her entire catalog of secrets within seconds.
The mole turned to look when the general and soldier entered the tent. His eyes lit up at the sight of Eunyeong, before they quickly narrowed with anger. This didn't go undetected by Chanyeol.
"What's the interest with my soldier?" He asked bluntly. Eunyeong blinked in surprise. Kyungsoo looked over at her, his eyes scanning her as if trying to see what the mole saw.
"There's a rumor circling through our group about a tiny soldier who stole away our men," the man began. "And now we have reason to believe the same man took the general from us when we finally got our hands on him."
"Ah, you've made quite the name for yourself - haven't you?" Chanyeol asked Eunyeong as he poured himself a glass of wine. She stood rigidly next to the entrance of the tent with her hands laced together. Her thumbs chased once another nervously.
"I guess my first message made it back to everyone," Eunyeong awkwardly said with a small laugh. The general looked up at the woman with disbelief.
"Of course it did, you son of a bitch," the mole hissed. "Now those men will never be able to return to their families after what you did to them."
"And what about your men?" Eunyeong immediately bit back, her hands separating and curling into fists as she spoke. "Look at our men! Look at the graves we've had to dig because of you bastards!"
"Hey," the general called out softly to the woman. She found his eyes soon after and felt her tense muscles gradually relax. The man motioned for her to join him on the floor of the tent and so she did. When she was seated, he passed his glass of wine to her. Quickly, she emptied the entirety of the glass down her throat.
"Where is your group located?" Kyungsoo asked the mole. The man looked over at him with an expression of distaste.
"I told you I wasn't going to say anything," he answered with a bitterness to his voice.
"What if we reward you?" Kyungsoo suggested.
"No," the man said instantly. "I won't betray my people."
"Do you think your people really care about you?" Chanyeol asked the man.
"Of course they do. When they find out my identity has been given up then they'll come back to finish you all off," the man remarked with pride. The general snickered at this.
"You're delusional," he told the man. "You have no value to them now. You're as good to them as a broken blade."
"Shut up!" The man exclaimed angrily.
"In fact, they'll probably want to kill you more than any of us after you've failed your job," Chanyeol continued.
"I said shut up!"
"We can help you," Kyungsoo interjected. "If you give us the information we need then we can protect you from dying. We can help you get back to your family. Wouldn't that be nice?"
The man was silent now. His nostrils still flared with anger, but it was obvious that the men' s words was getting to him.
"You know," Eunyeong started. "We don't judge you for doing what you've done - you have to do what you have to do to survive."
The man looked over at the soldier right away. Eunyeong felt her heart quicken at the gaze in his eyes. A grin slowly formed on his face.
"When my people come for me, I'll show them to you directly. And while they rip you apart limb from limb, I'll watch and I'll laugh. And when I make it back home I'll tell everyone about how I helped burn a tiny little bastard who couldn't stay out of everyone's business," the man told the woman.
Eunyeong felt her stomach twist. For a moment she felt as if she were going to throw up from the visuals that ran through her mind, but she had to remind herself that the man was trying to get under her skin. Obviously he recognized her as the weakest in the room, which made her an easy target. If she wanted to win this she couldn't allow him to get under her skin so easily.
"Go ahead and fantasize about my death, but just remember that it's me with the blood of your men on my hands already. I'm not afraid of getting my hands a little more dirty if it means defeating corruption," the woman replied gravely.
The man began to shake with rage at her words. Then, he began to throw his body wildly while shouting loudly. Within just a few seconds, Kyungsoo sat on top of the man and delivered two fatal blows that sent the man into unconsciousness. Finally, he was completely silent.
"Take him to the others," Chanyeol commanded the man. Kyungsoo obeyed without complaint. Eunyeong watched as he stood up and began dragging the man out of the tent.
"You have a way with words," the general noted quietly as he poured himself some more wine.
"I got a bit carried away," Eunyeong admitted, suddenly embarrassed for speaking the way she had. Her cheeks began to feel warm and she wasn't sure if it was due to her embarrassment or the wine she had consumed minutes ago.
"I was impressed," the general confessed. When the woman looked up at him, she saw a small smirk on his face. This prompted a smile to stretch across her face.
"Is there a reason you wanted me to stay behind tonight?" The woman wondered aloud after a few seconds passed.
The general glanced over at the woman, the smirk on his face long gone. His eyes scanned her face as if trying to understand her curiosity. "I figured the chances that he would speak would be better if you were here. Those who have emotionally wounded us are always the ones to get under our skin the easiest."
"Ah," the woman hummed. "That's clever. I'll have to remember that."
"Do you plan to be in this situation often?"
"You never know what tomorrow will bring."
That was the truth. When the next day arrived, the general announced that it was time to get a move on again. While the other soldiers packed up the camp and prepared to depart, Kyungsoo and Eunyeong snuck away into the forest with their newest prisoner. They planned to question the man, but knew it would be difficult to get any answers out of him.
"Are you guys serious?" The man scoffed as Kyungsoo pushed him to the ground. The sound of his knees hitting the fallen leaves on the ground emitted a crunching sound. Eunyeong realized only in that moment that summer was beginning to fade away.
"You think a guy with an expression like that on his face is ever anything but serious?" Eunyeong asked the man as she pointed over at Kyungsoo. She received a glare from both of the men in return.
"I'm not telling you bastards anything," the man spat angrily. Eunyeong and Kyungsoo shared a look of annoyance.
"We'll see," Kyungsoo told the man in a voice so calm that it was almost unsettling. His words made a sinister grin break out across the man's face.
"What are you going to do, kill me?" The man taunted. "Then you really won't get any information."
"Don't think of yourself so highly. We're going to end this war with or without your information. It's up to you whether you want to die now rather than later," Kyungsoo responded to the man.
Eunyeong watched the man closely as he contemplated his options. It was interesting to see someone so deranged from reality try to cope with a stressful situation. There was no doubt that he was struggling to keep up his act. When his eyes found hers watching him closely, his fake smile began to fall. The way his eyes instantly grew darker was a dead giveaway of his feelings towards the woman.
"Who's going to kill me?" He asked. "Do you think shorty's got it in him? Because I don't."
"Is that so?" Eunyeong asked in amusement.
"Yeah, that pretty little general would be a better option. Where is he anyways? Does he always let others do his dirty work for him?"
Eunyeong eyed the arrow that was still stuck through the man's hand and stopped herself from releasing a laugh. "Isn't your hand evidence enough that he's more than capable of doing it himself?"
"You always have something to say," the man snapped. "I can't wait till I'm free again. I'll make sure to strangle you myself. I've daydreamed about watching the life slip out of your eyes for the last two days!"
"Enough," Kyungsoo grunted as he kicked the man backwards. The man released a sharp breath of air as his back collided with the ground. Eunyeong watched as her senior stepped over the man and pressed his foot to the mole's throat.
"If you don't give us information in the next minute, I'll make sure you won't live to share another word with anyone," Kyungsoo threatened the man. Eunyeong felt goosebumps form on her skin.
In response, the man began to laugh - though the sound was more comparable to a wheeze than anything else. The woman thought he was completely insane as she watched his chest shake.
"You want information?" The man breathed out. "I'll only speak to the short one from now on."
"What?" Eunyeong asked in surprise as she met Kyungsoo's eyes. He removed his foot from the man's throat and walked over to the woman.
"Let's try it. You talk to him and see if he speaks. If he doesn't, try to scare him," the man told her in a low voice as he turned to watch the man on the ground breath harshly. The woman hesitantly nodded her head in agreement.
She walked over and looked down at the man. He stared up at her with wild eyes. If she looked close enough, she thought maybe she could see fear swimming in them. It was this small observation that made her frown. It was true, this man was this enemy, but she had never paid much mind to the fact that he was still very much human.
"I don't want to hurt you," she confessed to the man in a gentle voice as she crouched down next to him. "If you work with us then it'll be easier for you. If you're afraid of the other guys, I can promise my protection to you."
The man rolled eyes eyes at her words. "I don't want to be on your side. I'm fighting for my cause."
"Right... and that's clearly working out for you," she remarked.
"When we get rid of you then things will work out," the man said. The woman blinked with surprise at the way it sounded as if the man were convinced his words were true. He truly believed that she was the sole reason for the enemies' loss so far?
"You think too highly of me," she told the man. "I was simply in the wrong place at the right time."
"You'll be in the right place soon enough. Hell was made for bastards of your kind," the man hissed. It was Eunyeong's turn to roll her eyes.
"You make it hard to be polite," she commented with a sigh.
"Then don't be," the man commanded. "Show your true colors, you demon. I've already heard the stories. I know what you're like."
Eunyeong glanced up at Kyungsoo, who was watching the pair with intense eyes. Slowly she lifted her hand and let it hover over her dagger. Her eyes were silently asking Kyungsoo for permission to take it up a notch. When he realized, he gave her an affirmative nod.
"You really want to take it there?" The woman asked in that dark voice of hers. The shift in tone instantly got the man's attention.
"I'm beginning to think you don't have it in you. You a bluff. A fraud," the man pressed on. Eunyeong wrapped her hand around the handle of her dagger before swiftly removing it from its place. She brought it to the man's throat in such speed that it caught the man off guard. His eyes grew wide and he began to squirm.
"You heard Kyungsoo earlier," she cooed darkly. "If you don't want to bleed out on this forest floor on this beautiful morning, then I suggest you start speaking."
The three returned back to camp a few minutes later. The general caught them before they could officially step out of the forest. He scanned them for any signs of progress and found nothing out of the ordinary until his eyes landed on the prisoner's throat. There was a straight, bloody line that wasn't deep enough to threaten the man's life yet it was enough to alarm any onlookers.
"We got some information," Kyungsoo announced. The general nodded at the news before he turned his torso slightly and gave a sharp whistle. Right away, two soldiers came jogging up to the small crowd. Eunyeong listened as the general instructed the men to take the mole and dispose of him.
While the man spoke, she looked off towards camp at all the busy soldiers. She spotted Bakehyun talking to some of his friends. When he caught sight of her, a wide grin broke out on his face and he waved enthusiastically. Eunyeong stopped listening to the general and smiled while she gave a small, subtle wave in her friend's direction.
The sound of someone clearing their throat garnered the woman's attention. She looked over at the general, who was looking over his shoulder at Baekhyun. When he turned back to look at her, he had a disapproving look on his face.
"Sorry, sir," she quickly apologized while bowing over.
"If you're so eager to join him then perhaps you should excuse yourself," the man told her with a slight bitterness in his voice.
"No," she rushed out. "I would much rather go over the new information than to help pack up."
Kyungsoo couldn't help but snicker at the soldier's honesty. She felt her face flush at the way the general scowled at both her and his second hand in command.
"Your honesty is admirable," Kyungsoo commented, ignoring the way Chanyeol looked at him as he spoke. The woman smiled at his words. It was rare for Kyungsoo to be in such a light mood.
"Right," Chanyeol sighed with a roll of his eyes. "Let's go."
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a / n : sorry again for the late post. not a whole lot of chanyeol in this chapter, but i really wanted to kind of explore the relation between kyungsoo and eunyeong. i think their personalities will really help both of them grow, even more so than any of the other relationships in this story. it’s important to have platonic relationships like that in life guys! anyways, hope everyone enjoys the new chapter. xx
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