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bananayuyu · 6 days ago

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all tied up {part 2}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 11.9k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts

A/n: I hope you all enjoy the depravity! (and again please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 1 here

Read it on ao3

That toe box. That stupid fucking toe box…

"YUNHO, LET ME GO!!" you scream, punching a hand into his side and making him sag ever so slightly.

"Fucking hell, give me a second," he replies, finally slinging you back over his shoulder to your feet.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" you scream, shoving him as hard as you can, and he rocks back onto his other foot, destabilized only for a second.

"Calm down, Jesus Christ," he snaps, and you move to dart around him, towards the front door you were just dragged through. He's too quick though and grabs you by the arm, your shoulder crashing into the wall as he awkwardly halts your movements. "Y/n, seriously, calm the fuck down." His tone is harsh, low and demanding, and the turn of events has so shocked you, you feel like you might puke.

"You just kidnapped me, and you're telling me to calm down??" you spit, your shoulder stinging from the impact of the wall.

"I saved you from that horrible weather, actually. Not safe for a girl like you to be out there right now," he replies, a chilling smirk on his lips.

"Oh fuck off, you fucking creep," you mutter, desperately trying to free your arm from his grasp.

"Listen I know it's a bit extreme, but you kept ignoring me, and I want to talk. So I did what I had to do, to make that happen," he replies, his voice uncomfortably smooth.

"Yunji is right, you're a fucking sociopath," you respond, eyeing him sharply.

"Yunji?" he asks, his eyebrows cocked.

"Yunji, my best friend, my roommate, who will be very concerned if I don't return home soon. So you'd better fucking let me go, if you don't want the police called," you say, words fiery and sharp as they exit your mouth.

"Why don't you text her and let you know you got caught in the storm, and a kind neighbor let you into their place for protection," he smiles, shaking his head at you like you're dumb.

"Fuck you, fuck offf," you mutter as you knee him hard in the side, managing to pull your arm free for a moment and stumbling towards his front door once again. But again somehow he's faster than you, despite the wind being slightly knocked out of him, and he puts himself between you and the door with a loud slam, your body smashing into his, hard. His right hand moves behind him to slide closed the deadbolt, his broad frame guarding the door, creating a barrier you certainly won't be able to break through.

"You're making this very difficult, y/n," he scolds, shaking his head again.

"ME?? I'M MAKING THIS DIFFICULT??" you scream, falling to the floor in desperation, your mind running out of ideas. The only one that's left is his backdoor, which you know is likely to be locked; but you realize it's truly your last hope, your only remaining option. With a sharp inhale you steady yourself, launching down a hallway you see that leads in that general direction, turning the corner abruptly when you hit a wall, seeing another hallway branching off with more doors leading to other rooms. You continue down this hallway too, even though it's running towards the side of the house, because you really don't have another choice and have no idea where any of these doors might lead you. You're running hard, as hard as you can, bumping into walls and nearly stumbling over a slight blip in the old hardwood floor, catching yourself in time to keep running. You round another corner into what looks like a den, and then you spot it, sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard. You're almost there, your legs only propelled by your adrenaline, and you know he's hot on your trail, his hard footsteps echoing ominously behind you. Sliding the door will open will be awkward, you know that, but you have to try-

You're grabbed again, this time tackled to the ground, a hand coming around your ankle and holding it tight as you flail your other leg, making contact with some part of Yunho's body. Your huge winter coat is making it hard to move around on the floor, your body limited by the layers of clothing and the crumpled position you're currently pinned in.

"Yunho, please, just fucking let me go," you beg, your throat hoarse from your screaming earlier, your lungs lacking capacity from your running. "I promise, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise, just please, let me go, please, please." You sound so pathetic, so scared, because you are. You've never felt like this, scared for your life and unsure you'll make it through the rest of the day alive.

"Don't make promises you can't fucking keep," Yunho grumbles, moving on top of you to pin you even tighter, both of your legs awkwardly bent under his and your upper body held down by his arms. His face is only inches from yours now, closer than it's ever been, and you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see what you know is a horrifying look in his eyes.

"No I'm serious, I will talk to you, I promise, I-"

"No you won't. I know you fucking won't," he spits, adjusting his grip on your arms as if he's trying to remind you how trapped you are. "You'd make your mind up, hadn't you? You'd decided you'd much rather we both lose our jobs than you having to speak to me again. You were gonna give up. You weren't going to talk to me tomorrow, or the next day, or ever. If I let you go now, that wouldn't fucking change. Don't lie to me, y/n. I'm not stupid."

Your snarky reply gets lost in your throat, because the way he's read you so easily is utterly disturbing.

"What, are you shocked that I'm right? You're not that hard to read, doll," he continues, chuckling deeply. But I am, to everyone else, you think. You've always been able to hide your intentions easily. Your side is starting to throb, his elbow digging into your ribs, and his words have lit another fire in you, one that comes from the visceral fear that's consuming you.

You snap your head up and bite hard on his shoulder, the only part of him other than his face that you can reach. You're more forceful than even you expect, immediately tasting blood, and it makes you bite even harder, Yunho letting out a sudden cry of pain.

"Fuck, you fucking bi-"

You cut him off with a knee to the groin, the pain from your bite having loosened his nerve enough for you to do so. It weakens him even more, and you're able to move your hips out from under him, painfully wrenching yourself free from his grasp and doing anything you can to inflict pain on his perfect body. You can feel it now that he's on top of you, the curves and lines and hints of lean muscle, and it pisses you off all over again. You're clawing at him, scratching and biting and kicking every which way. His breath is knocked out of him so you both are just breathing heavily, his body grunting with every painful blow, your own voice erupting in a growl when you finally free yourself from him and manage to miraculously make it to your feet.

You're running back the way you came now, back towards the front door which you know how to unlock, a cramp forming sharp in your side from the exertion. You hear his footsteps behind you again, and you know it's a last-ditch effort, but you try with all your might to run as fast as you possibly can. Suddenly you feel your left arm tugged back, your body jolting awkwardly as he makes contact with you, but he's only able to get a good hold on the sleeve of your coat, which now is painfully snaking down your arm and falling off your shoulder. You wrench your arm free from it, spinning to free your other arm too, feeling unburdened now without your coat and able to sprint fast again. As you round the corner you see the front door, the dark stained wood ominous, a warning against entering. Or leaving, you suppose. The whole house is dark, little light coming in from the windows because of the now raging storm, and for the first moment since you've entered Yunho's house you notice a bright flash that must be lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. You know it should be louder, it sounded mere moments after the flash meaning the strike was somewhere nearby, but the snow is just that thick right now, even the deafening sound got lost in it. You wonder if you'll even be able to open the door against the winds and what must be harsh rain, and tears start coming fast down your cheeks as your fears reach new heights. Even if you make it out of here you've got the elements to deal with, and suddenly storming out that door doesn't sound so good. For a brief moment it's almost like you're begging for it, begging for him to grab you again so you don't have to face the reality outside.

Even if it'd only been a passing thought, Yunho answers your sadistic prayer, finally making contact with you again when you're only five feet from the door, his hand crushing as it grips down on your upper arm. You shriek, your shoulder screaming so severely in pain you're worried he's dislocated it. You both awkwardly crash towards the ground again, Yunho coming to his knees as he tries to prevent the fall, your legs sweeping out from under you as you lose your balance. You're still fighting fiercely, and you feel ridiculous for wishing for this now. You'd give anything to be in that fierce, terrifying storm right now, instead of being dragged by your arm and your hair down his hallway, making dents in the walls with your feet as you struggle against his firm grip.

"You're making this really fucking difficult, y/n," he growls, breathing hard from carrying the weight of an entire human down his short hallway. "I don't think you realize how true that is." You're still screaming in pain, tears streaming down your face in waves now as the follicles of your hair are nearly ripped out. "We could have done this another way, but you just had to fucking fight me, as always. I should have known you'd pull some shit like this," he spits, his voice low. You have no idea where you're going, your vision clouded with your tears. Eventually you year a door knob turned, Yunho yanking you hard and turning you around, your legs catching painfully underneath you.

"Ah!" you scream in pain, using your free hand to wipe the tears and snot from your face and finally try to get a good look around you.

"Shut up, this is your fault," he responds, his tone cold in that way that it so often is. It feels so weird to be with him outside of work, the feeling hitting you suddenly as you're finally able to get a glimpse of him; turning your head you see a desk, a dresser, a closet door...

You can only see a glimpse of his bed when you turn to the side, but it's enough to confirm you're in his bedroom. It adds to the fear in you, that you're both in the place he feels most comfortable, that he's confident enough to show you his place of rest. Is he going to kill you? You really wouldn't have pegged him as the type, even if he was an asshole at work; your jokes with Yunji about him being sociopathic were hyperbole, at the time, at least.

"Are you going to kill me?" you ask, finding a strength within yourself that surprises you.

"No," he grunts, his body pinning you down as he reaches under his bed, the position twisting his torso and making his breathing uneven.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" you ask, trying to even out your breathing yourself. Your lungs feel exhausted from screaming, but at least now he isn't dragging you by your hair, so your scalp is getting a break from the severe pain. He doesn't answer you, shoving his arm further under, and then in a flash you see what he's pulled out, in moments feeling it against the skin of your left wrist.

The black rope is even and soft, clearly made for use in the bedroom. It would make you laugh, cause you to poke fun at him, normally, but in this instance your blood runs cold as you feel him forcefully anchor the wrist in place, tying it to something behind you in a way that makes it totally immovable. You struggle against him as he reaches for your other arm, but with the way he has you pinned there's only one outcome to this, and soon your other wrist is being tied down too, right next to your first one. You're well and truly trapped now, not able to move your arms at all, and with them tied behind your back it's hard to move the rest of your upper body.

With another grunt Yunho finishes securing his knots, your arms tied to one of his bed posts, your legs awkwardly folded under you. You look so pathetic and vulnerable in this state, and it makes him feel things he knows he shouldn’t, something that makes his pants feel tighter than they should. Your whole face is a mess from crying, your hair disheveled and tangly; he's never seen you in such a state, so messed up and powerless and ragged.

"Well, here we are," he says, standing up and walking back to the entrance of his room, putting several feet between you as he stares you down, arms crossed.

"What do you want?" you snap, frustrated and disgusted that you can't wipe the small trail of snot that's currently leaving your nose.

"I just want to talk, y/n. I'm not planning on killing you, I'm not that kind of person. I can't believe you'd even ask that," he responds, looking at you sternly.

"YOU FUCKING TIED ME UP, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK?!!" you scream, your body lurching forward with the force of your words. The binding on your wrists squeezes painfully when you do so, and your face scrunches up in agony for a moment, as you set yourself back in place in a slightly more comfortable position.

"May I remind you again, this is all your own fault. You wouldn't talk to me, and like I said, I'm not giving up on this job easily. So tell me, why do you hate me so much?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes and crossing one foot in front of the other in a casual, confident stance.

"Cause you're an asshole??" you say, narrowing your eyes back at him, cocking your head to the side.

"And you're not?" he asks, smirking.

"You know I'm not," you growl, eyebrows furrowed together deeply. "You fucking know I'm not, I'm a fucking angel, actually, and everyone in that damn office loves me, and I never start shit with anyone. You know damn well that you started this, you did, you like messing with me and seeing me suffer, it must be entertaining to you cause your life is so fucking stuffy and perfect and boring. I mean those fucking suits you wear, to our simple little government-funded office. Where do you get off dressing like that??"

"I could ask you the same thing," he quips, raising his eyebrows momentarily. You eye him sharply, the question in your gaze obvious. "Your clothes, y/n, I can't believe Mr. Kangsoo lets you wear skirts that short in the office. Or tight shirts with no bra."

"He's probably never even thought about it, because he's never sexualized me like a fucking creep," you respond, face flushed from the idea that Yunho was looking at you like that for all of these months. It's mortifying, horrifying, and makes you feel suddenly so sick in your body, like you wish you could jump out of it. But you also can't deny that you've looked at him that way too, that the suits do it for you in a way that's almost embarrassing.

"I'm not a creep, I've just never had a boss who allows that," he says, sighing. "I can't deny that it's distracting." The words shutter through you, adding to the sick feeling growing in your low gut. It makes tears form in your eyes again too, from how humiliated you feel by his admission, that every day in the office when he was tormenting you, he was also gawking over your body in this way.

"You're so fucking gross," you mutter, looking at the ground in front of you, adjusting yourself again as your legs begin to ache from the position you're sitting in.

"What else do you think of me?" he prompts, loving to watch you squirm around in clear discomfort on the floor.

"I'm- this is so fucking disturbing Yunho, you're- I'm gonna-" you stop yourself from saying 'report this to the police,' because that visceral fear that he might kill you is still there. Even if he isn't planning on doing it, you don't want to say or do anything that might motivate him to, so you let the words die on your tongue, awkwardly huffing out the breath you'd just taken. Your gaze jumps around, but finds his face again fast, your mind working hard to try to understand what the hell is happening. Does he really just want to talk? Everything he's done seems too severe to be justified by just that, but you've found him hard to read since you met him. As you gaze at his face you see a smile on his lips, a smile that's revealed a small dimple on his left cheek and almost looks sweet. "Why the hell are you smiling?" you snap, your look severe and threatening.

"I'm just glad we're finally talking," he sighs, crossing his feet in the opposite direction. You just fix with him with a look of disgust, not wanting to speak anymore if that's truly what's bringing him joy in this moment. He knows saying that will shut you up for a bit, but he's okay with that, having things of his own that he needs to get off his chest. Now that the two of you are finally alone, away from the office, he can say the things that he's wondered for months.

"Y/n, can I ask you a question?" he starts, but he doesn't wait for an answer before barreling on. "Did you get into our field because you yourself deal with mental health issues, or have some big trauma from your past? I only ask, because, well, everyone at my last office fit that description, and I'm pretty sure everyone at our's does too, even Jongho. Everyone had to go to therapy as a kid, or in college cause of severe anxiety, and that's what led them to wanting to work in this field. Am I right, that that's true for you too?"

Your eyes remain fixed on him but you don't move your head for a second, not nodding or shaking it in an answer. The glassiness that forms in your eyes, though, is impossible to cover up, and Yunho can see from the tears starting to form that he's entirely, absolutely correct.

"You're very neurotic, do you know that?" he continues, and his question almost sounds genuine. "I mean, me hiding your favorite mug has you angry enough to slam the dishwasher closed? That mug isn't even yours, it's a part of the set that Dr. Acharya got the office two years ago as a Christmas present, meaning it belongs to everyone at the office. At least, that's what you told me my first day. Sure, everyone has their favorite mugs, but no one is as obsessively possessive about it as you are. The littlest things set you off, stuff that shouldn't even affect you. What does it matter that I hid the mug? Who the fuck cares what mug you use? You dropped Jongho's favorite mug two months ago and it smashed everywhere, and he didn't freak out about it. He just started using a different one. Did you even know that was his favorite one? No, because he didn't insist on using it every day. Do you realize how ridiculous all of your little routines and patterns are? It's like if everything doesn't go exactly how you want it to, you'll die."

"No, that's you," you sob, his words pulling emotions out of you that you can't even describe. He's the rich spoiled boy, he's the one who's never been told no in his life. He's the one who can't take disturbance to his needs, not you, not you, not me...

Your gut roils at his insult, and you realize in an instant that he's absolutely right, and that probably everyone at the office has thought that about you for years, but tolerated it anyway. Tears flow down your cheeks fast, and god you wish you could somehow wriggle your arms free, and punch that pretty face of his to make him shut up.

"That's not me, actually. I do just fine dealing with whatever comes up at the office each day. I can even handle our arguments just fine, and don’t walk around with a scowl on my face all day. You know everyone is fucking scared to talk to you when you do that, right?"

"Shut up, shut up!!" you scream, the pain in your head growing the more you think about all your failings, all the ways you've fucked up in the last six months. That awful feeling of shame you were so scared to face earlier is hitting you now, and just like you thought, the pain is so bad that you don't think you're going to come out the other side of it alive.

"Don't tell me to shut up just cause I'm right, y/n. Fucking listen and take accountability for once," he snaps, his face more like anger now that you're yelling at him again, instead of just talking. "I don't think you understand how easy it's been for me to read you, since the moment I started at that job. Am I wrong for liking it when something I do pisses you off? Maybe, I can't help that it's fun. I could see this whole conflict unfolding from the first day you turned cold with me, and I knew that there wasn't a fucking thing I could do to stop that. So I thought I'd just let it happen, and try my best to enjoy the ride. I can't change the fact that you're so caught up in your own head that you ca-"

"AAHHHHHHHH!!!!" you scream, just to drown out the noise, just to make the pain in your head stop. The scream is guttural, loud and painful as it exits your throat, but you keep screaming until your lungs are empty because the relief it's providing you is at least something. When you run out of air you take another ragged breath in and then you scream again, this time the sound harsher, your throat struggling to handle it. Tears are forming and streaming down your face faster than they ever have, and your body jerks against the ropes on your wrists, as you try to muster all your strength and somehow finally break free. Unable to do so, you scream again, eyes closed as you heave from the pain, your skin no doubt damaged from rope burn.

"Y/n, y/n, calm down," you hear, Yunho's voice soft and close to you. A hand comes to brush the tears from your cheek, but you jerk away violently, your wrists snagging painfully on the rope at a different angle this time.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" you cry, but it comes out softer than intended because your throat is already so worn, and you cough hard on your next inhale.

"Y/n, seriously, take a deep breath, stop," Yunho says, backing up slightly and not touching you again, but still sitting himself close enough to you that you can feel his presence, feel the warmth radiating off his body. The shock of it makes you realize just how cold you are, only a thin long sleeve shirt on now that your coat has been discarded somewhere in the hall.

"SHUT UP, GET THE FUCK AWAY!!" you cry again, wincing hard from the pain in our throat, your breaths ragged as you try to recover from the pain and ready yourself to scream again.

"Y/n..." he warns, but you just scream again, so entirely afraid of the feelings inside that you can't think to do anything else. "I SAID, STOP!" he finally yells, and the force of it is so strong that it nearly knocks you back, all the breath in your lungs leaving immediately.

You stare at him wide eyed, seeing now that he's crouched down on the floor, about five feet from you. The fear is evident in your gaze, and so is the fact that you're holding your breath and you have absolutely no idea.

"You should breathe, you know," he says, his voice suddenly back to the neutral tone of earlier. You snap back into your body for a moment, shakily taking in the breath your lungs were crying for, and you notice you're shaking, aches and pains searing through almost every part of you. "You don't know what's good for you, do you?" he continues, coming to sit cross legged in front of you, his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped together. You wriggle in front of him, wincing as you try to move your aching leg to a more comfortable position. You struggle to find it, getting stuck in a spot that's even worse, and you sigh in frustration. "Just sit cross-legged, it'll be more comfortable," he sighs, moving forward towards you, with his hands outstretched. You lurch away from his touch again, and he sits back down, sighing harder. "I was going to help you change your sitting position, cause I know it's hard to do with your arms bound," he says, and you don't have time to wonder why he knows that. You stare back with a hardened gaze, eyes piercing daggers into him. "Will you let me help you?" he asks, and it's the first time all conversation that his tone has changed in that way; it's softer, warmer, and for a moment makes your chest flutter. You don't answer him again, you just stare and stare and try to make sense of his words, but somehow he can tell you won't fight him now, and he moves forward to help you, holding your body up just enough so you can swing your legs under you in this different way.

Once you're sitting you do feel relief, your knees thanking you now that they aren't bearing the majority of your weight, your ankles thankful that they're resting at a much more natural angle.

"You need to stop fighting me, and fighting those ropes, or you're just gonna keep hurting yourself," he says, voice calm.

"I didn't fucking agree to this!" you snap, your changing feelings giving you whiplash. "You've tied me up against my will, Yunho, or did you somehow forget? This isn't some cute little scene I agreed to, you forced this on me!" you yell, trying hard to be forceful without hurting your throat again.

"And it's going to be good for you in the long run, if you'd just relax and stop fighting me. Have you considered that maybe I know what's best?" He quirks a brow, eyeing you now from only two feet away, that heat still radiating off of him. Noticing it again you begin to shiver, your body shaking involuntarily. Your muscles feel tight and painful from the restriction, and the cold isn't helping one bit.

"How the fuck is tying me up against my will good for me?" you spit, leaning forward every so slightly now that you can.

"I know you don't want to lose that job," he says, eyeing you intensely, his gaze boring into you. "I know that job means everything to you. And I know that if I didn't intervene, you would have lost it. You were too scared to come talk to me. You were never going to admit to your part in our arguments, to your fault. You clearly have too much pride to admit any wrongdoing, almost ever."

It really is sick how right he is about everything, and you begin to wonder if he somehow can read minds.

"Listen, I will let you go later, you have my word. I'm not gonna kill you. But I'm pretty sure this is the only way I could ever get you to apologize to me, and without doing that, we would never be able to resolve this." His eyes still haven't left yours, and this close you can see the details of his iris, the stubble on his cheeks and chin, and the small birth mark on the side of his jaw. It makes you sick, he makes you sick, every little perfect thing about him.

"Look, I'll start. I'm sorry for hiding your mug, I'm sorry for leaving you little notes, which were really just jokes but I know you took them offensively, I'm sorry for being hard on you in the admin meetings. I'm sorry for pissing you off and finding it funny. None of that was cool."

"That wasn't a very good apology," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"Still better than no apology at all," he replies, and you can't help but roll them again. "Did you hear what I said earlier, when you were screaming?" he asks, and you shake your head. "I was saying, I think you were so caught up in your head and convinced that I was out to get you, that you didn't realize in all those little notes I was trying to let you know that I like you."

"You have a funny way of showing it," you say, huffing in anger.

"Was it not obvious?" he asks.

"Was what not obvious?"

"That I like you."

"You insulted me in every single one!"

"I called you pretty in every single one."

"Yeah, in an insulting, 'you're pretty and stupid and don't know shit' kind of way."

"I never meant it like that. That was your interpr-"

"Sure." You roll your eyes hard again, sighing in exasperation.

"Don't interrupt me," he retorts, eyes hard.

"I'll do what I fucking want," you reply, exhausted by the conversation now, losing control of yourself.

"I think you're forgetting how vulnerable you are right now," he responds, scooting forward enough so that he can reach behind you and tug on the ropes, both checking that they're still secured and reminding you just how trapped you are.

I don't care anymore, you think, dropping your head, and it almost feels like your body has given in now. It's not that the fight is gone, but something about the change in position has your body relaxed, now that no part of you is actively getting hurt by your sitting position.

"What was that?" Yunho asks, his voice soft.

"Huh?" you snap your head up, eye him with confusion.

"Did you just say you don't care anymore?" Your eyes go slightly wide, realizing you'd said that aloud and not just in your head to yourself. You nod in response, eyes stuck on him, on the black hair that's fallen in his face, on the way his hand frantically pushes it away. "What do you mean?"

"I don't care, hurt me, do whatever, I don't care," you say, body relaxing in defeat.

"No, no we're not doing that," he says, and you squint at him in frustration. "You always just give up when things are hard, or when you think you'll fail. It's fucking pathetic."

Tears are back in your eyes, and you look at the floor in front of you, the small expanse of wood separating the two of you.

"I know, I FUCKING KNOW I'M PATHETIC, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!" you scream, frustration boiling up again.

"Yes, it is," he says with a satisfied smile.

"You want me to just tear myself down in front of you, is that it??"

"Finally you're understanding," he sighs, looking you over with what almost could be pride.

"Fuck you," you mutter, trying to bring yourself down from yet another surge in adrenaline.

"Fucking apologize. Tell me what you did wrong. I'm tired of waiting," he snaps, and the words feel like they lance through you. It makes you notice your body again, notice the way you're shaking hard from the cold.

"I'm fucking freezing Yunho," you say, tone begging him to take mercy on you.

"I know, I can see you shivering. Apologize to me and I'll get you a blanket," he spits.

"No," you whine, your body pleading with you, desperately wanting relief from the cold.

"Your nipples are so hard I can see them through your shirt." He's smirking, staring unabashedly at your chest, and it makes you scream again, writhing around with that unbridled anger, making your body hurt again.

"Y/n, y/n, fucking hell," Yunho lurches forward to grab onto you, physically forcing you to stop moving, stop hurting yourself even more. His arms are wrapped around you, your head pulled into his chest, and you can smell him now, the faint musk coming from under his arms, the slight sour edge making your head feel funny.

"You lied to boss," you rasp out, voice muffled against his chest.

"What?" he asks, settling down to now hold you in place.

"You said you weren't attracted to me. In the meeting." He just grunts in response, so ambiguously that you can't tell if he's agreeing or not. "Is that not what you meant by, 'I like you'?

"It is," he replies, sighing.

"Then why did you lie?" you ask, surprised he would do that in front of your boss, even given the nature of the question.

"Cause you did first," he responds, matter of factly.

"I didn't lie," you mutter, holding your eyes closed, your head still feeling funny as you try to shake free whatever feelings are enveloping you.

"You either lied to him, or to yourself," he says, finally pulling back, seeming to trust that you won't flail around again. But the slightest muscle twitch of your arm has his grip back on you in seconds, and you just sit there staring up at him, his hands gripping your arms tight to keep you from pulling on the ropes. "Which was it?"

"Stop," you whisper, harshly, your spit spraying in his face. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you harshly, something clicking into place behind his eyes.

"You're really gonna make me fucking do this, aren't you," he grumbles, almost like it's just to himself. He shakes his head, sighing sharply, and you eye him with worry. He looks half disappointed, but half amused, and once he picks his hand up and flicks your already-hard nipple, the look becomes pure amusement just from your reaction.

"Ahh," you involuntarily moan, mortified at the sounds that just left your lips.

"You're sensitive," he chuckles, pinching the other harshly, making your whole body jolt in reaction.

"Yunho, stop, please, please," you beg, the pathetic, pleading look in your eye making his whole body react.

"If you'd just do what I ask, you could avoid these things," he chuckles, roughly pinching both of them now. Your back arches, and you fight to keep your breathing steady and not make any more embarrassing noises. But the pain and pleasure he's causing you is making it hard, and small gasps and whines leave your throat. "I think some part of you wanted this, though," he chuckles.

When he pulls back he's eyeing your arms, and the look of resolve and certainty in his eyes has you panicking, your brain struggling to make sense of it in any way.

"Please Yunho, please no," you whine again.

"Doll, you've left me no choice," he responds, sighing deeply as if he's thinking hard, not bothering to look you in the eye. Suddenly he's down to the side of you, and you feel his hands working fast behind you, the ropes pushed and pulled in various directions, making the sore skin of your wrists ache with every change of pressure. You're out of words now, utterly confused and helpless, and you lack the ability to fight him anymore, your body succumbing to exhaustion and not wanting to be bruised any further.

Suddenly you feel one of your wrists is free, the muscles in your shoulder relieved at finally being able to move, your body shuttering as it tries to work out the knots that have formed. You're partially free now, you realize for a moment, but just as fast you feel a final tug that loosens your other wrist from the bedpost, and then Yunho is yanking your wrists around to tie them in front of you instead. In a flash he's lifted you up, setting you down on the side of his bed, on your side. You're facing him, where he's now sat on the floor, as he grabs your legs and bends them up towards your arms, beginning to secure all of your limbs together in multiple knots. You lay in an almost catatonic state, staring at the wall of his room, the closet door partially cracked. You can see some of the suits and a few other random jackets you don't think you've ever seen before. You're so zoned out on the wall, so out of your body and out of your mind, that you don't even notice your pants and panties being pulled down to your thighs. It isn't until you feel the skin to skin contact, Yunho's hand gripping your thigh where it meets your hips, that you notice.

"What the fuck!" you squeal, head snapping back to him again, and the look on his face is cocky and self-satisfied, like he's proud of the reaction he's just pulled out of you.

"Yunho, please, no no no, please," you start babbling, repeating the words over and over until they feel almost meaningless. You can tell exactly where his hands are headed, where this whole thing is headed, but you don't have the physical strength in you to fight anymore. Or, more accurately, fighting with your body seems like the worst thing you can do right now, something that will only hurt you more and probably rile him up, too. He can see the gears turning in your head, and he's pressing, waiting for you to break, because it didn't take him long today to realize that he has a better read on you than you've ever had on yourself. You continue to babble your displeasure as he moves his hand up higher, higher, just brushing past your core and making you wince, but he doesn't reply to your words with words of his own, because he knows now that there's no point. He moves his hand up to your ass slowly, a trail of your wetness following his fingers, and even he's shocked by how much was there between your legs. He's sure you have no idea, that you're totally oblivious to the way your body has reacted to his words, his actions, to being bound and unable to move.

He's sure that for months now you had no idea that so much of the frustration you felt while being around him was the frustration of being teased, your body wanting certain touches that he was never giving you. He was certain you weren't taking care of it enough yourself, because he saw your thighs clench all the time when you stared at him, and sometimes he could even swear he smelled the arousal pooling in your panties, your short skirts leaving too little of a barrier.

Now, finally he was touching you, and it didn't surprise him that that soft wet part between your legs had reacted so quickly. It also wasn't a shock that your brain still hadn't caught up, that you still didn't see what was so obvious to him. He knew it would take more than a gentle brush of your clit for you to finally realize it, so moving his hand back down towards your center, he quickly found your entrance, firmly brushing the pad of his middle finger up your slit until he rubbed right over your sensitive bud again.

"Fuck! Okay, fuck, stop it, I'll apologize," you cry, the soft pad of his finger sending sparks through you as soon as it made contact with your clit. The feeling made your body shake again, but suddenly a warmth was filling your lower gut and you couldn't be more shocked by the feeling, and by how inviting, even comforting, it felt. It was another moment where you were ricocheted back into your body, into the present moment, and the strange nature of everything that was happening was too much to make sense of. All you knew is you needed your confusion to stop, because now more than any other feeling it was your inner conflict that scared you, the fact that you had earlier wished for him to grab you, the fact that now your body seemed so content to just stay in these ropes forever, as long as your position was comfortable enough.

All you could think to do now was to give him what he wanted, and what that was exactly you couldn't remember, other than that he wanted you to say something.

"I'm-I'm sorry, okay, I'm really sorry, I don't know how everything got as fucked up as- as it got, oh god, I'm sorry- I- I promise you I mean it," you babble, eyes closed as you try to control your breathing enough to speak.

"What are you sorry for?" he asks you, his face close enough that you feel his hot breath, his voice gentle but steady.

"I'm- I- I don't know, I- I-" You're distracted by his hand, but the way it's steadily making small circles over your clit and sending more of that heat into you, your mind less and less able to focus on your attempt at an apology.

"You don't know?" he asks, and it's patronizing, you both know it, but it doesn't even hurt you now. You just nod, sniffling as you whisper 'I'm sorry,' your eyes getting wet and heavy with how overwhelmed you feel. "You can't think straight now, can you?" he asks you, his finger working you steadily, his nose picking up on that scent he's become so familiar with. You shake your head, your breathing picking up gently from the pleasure enveloping you like a warm blanket. "Good, you think too much anyway," he chuckles, watching your face intently, his pride surging at the way he's picking you apart so perfectly.

"I think I know why you're sorry," he says, making you whine in response, nervous for what he's about to say. "I'm gonna guess, I think I'm right," he smiles, but you don't even see it with your eyes glued shut. He's happy though, seeing you like that, because he knows that finally you're in your body completely, and you're accepting what he's known you need. "You're sorry cause you know you fucked up, don't you? You know you took things too personally, you overreacted, you couldn't let my jokes or my pranks just be that, you had to make it more. And once you reacted that way once, you felt entitled to react that way every time, didn't you? You're sorry that you didn't stop that snowball in its tracks, before it became this huge thing, right?"

You groan in response to him, pissed as can be, but you can't tell him he's wrong because you're physically incapable now of lying. Something in the way he's making you feel, the way he's touching you, has melted a layer of your mental shield away, and you see now every word he's said is reflected inside you. The thoughts had been there for months, but you'd managed to avoid them almost completely, the occasional blip causing guilt and worry to cloud you for a day or two. But this was the first time you saw it truly for all that it was, how deep the guilt cut into you, how you spoke about him so nastily to other people because you really wanted to say those things to yourself.

"You'd never be able to forgive yourself if you admitted those things, huh?" he continues, making your breath hitch. "You don't want to admit them because you're scared you'll never feel the same about yourself ever again, right? Cause you're this perfect little angel, and you've been that for so many years, the perfect baby of the office, the perfect student in school, I'm sure, and admitting to yourself that you can be cruel, that would ruin the entire image you've created for yourself, wouldn't it?" Tears are streaming down your face now as you involuntarily nod, your whole body somehow enveloped in the warmth his touch is providing, despite how cold it is. Now that you're in your body, really truly in your body, you can notice the little things about your environment; you even notice the wind howling outside, not the loudest you could imagine, but enough that you know the storm is still blustering on. You try to blink open your eyes to look at him, but everything is blurred with your tears, and you vigorously shake your head back and forth, trying in vain to clear your vision. As if he can read your mind, Yunho's free hand comes up to wipe them away, and for some reason now it doesn't feel so bad, his hand touching your face gently, even if it still feels so new and strange. Once he's wiped away the tears you can get a good look at him, your faces only a few inches apart now.

"Am I right?" he asks, genuine, you know it's genuine, and you can't fucking believe it looking at him. He feels like one massive contradiction right now, and all you can do is whisper 'yeah' in response. Your answer clearly pleases him, and you suddenly feel his hand's movement slow, falter, and then he's moving his fingers down towards your entrance, pressing into you gently, only one finger at first.

"Yunho," you groan while shutting your eyes again, the feel of it so foreign, because if you were honest with yourself you hadn't had someone touch you in this way in years, and you weren't really one to put things inside of yourself if it was just you taking care of your needs.

"I know you need this," he responds, gently starting to pump in and out, the muscles of your cunt getting used to the feelings of pressure and release that they'd missed for so long.

"You have to forgive yourself," he starts up again, as he gradually starts upping his pace, working slowly and methodically. "You have to let yourself go of being that perfect angel. It's not realistic. You're a human, you're going to fuck up sometimes. And sometimes you have such a big crush on your handsome coworker that, well, you start acting out. And even you don't realize what you're doing, cause you're so caught up in your own head." You groan and roll your eyes when he calls himself handsome, and you still don't think you fully believe the rest of what he's said, but the first part, the part about forgiving yourself and freeing yourself of that perfect image, is calling to a part of you. "You're very sensitive, and I know you don't want to be, but you are. You can't ignore that, or it's gonna catch up with you time and time again."

He adds another finger, curling them up inside you in a perfect way, and you almost stop listening to what he's saying because at this point the pleasure is taking over your senses completely. He adds his thumb to your clit now, the feelings increasing exponentially, your clit feeling hot and fiery under his touch. It all still feels so foreign, so new, and something within you, particularly within the place he's touching you, still feels the need to hold back, to worry, to be tense. He can feel it too, and he guessed himself that you hadn't been touched in a while, from everything he'd observed about you. He figured you were someone who might have written off relationships and sex entirely, someone too focused on what their duty to the world was, to maintaining the image of good morals, that you weren't partaking in those things people consider selfish, or self-indulgent. He even wondered for a bit if you'd never been touched, but that seemed unlikely from some of the random comments he'd overheard in your conversations with Tally.

"You know, you can't come if you're so tense down there," he says, and again it's kind of patronizing, but you don't really care. "You have to let go."

"I- I've never come from, inside, st- stimulation," you stutter, looking at him directly, hoping to convey that despite your state you're being completely sincere.

"Really?"

"I- I can't," you say, shaking your head, thinking of all of your sexual exploits, the list of which can fit on one hand.

"I'm gonna try," he chuckles, his focus zeroing in on your body's reactions to his movements. "I really do need you to relax those muscles for me, relax your hips too. They're too tense, do you even feel that?" he asks, tapping the side of your thigh where the muscle is taught. You shake your head, frowning and burying your face into the duvet cover you're laying on. "No, don't shy away from me. Don't go back into your head. I know that's why you haven't come in the past, cause you were too in your head. You can't do that. Come on, just focus on my touch, think about how it feels, nothing else."

You try with all you have to follow his instructions, keeping your eyes on his face as you watch him furrow his brow in concentration, the muscles in his jaw flexing for a moment when he changes the angle of his hand ever so slightly. The new spot he was hitting inside felt so perfect, so shockingly deep, and finally your body started to cave into the feelings, your breathy moans coming out as you lost yourself in it, not thinking anymore about where you were or why you were there.

"You know you're not perfect, deep down you know that, and you need to accept that. You're not a robot, you're like all the rest of us, fucked up in so many ways, wanting selfishly for life to always go your way, wanting everyone to like you, praise you, cherish you. And that's okay, it doesn't make you some horrible person. You're neurotic, sensitive, intense, so what? You'll never not be those things, and that's okay. Just fucking let yourself be a human, so you don't get so fucking hung up on every little thing wrong with me." He punctuates the last word, reminding you why you're here. His hand is working you perfectly, and mixed with all that he's saying it's all encompassing, the overwhelming intensity you're feeling. Suddenly you feel something building deep within you, a coil about to snap, and you feel your legs begin to shake before it's even washing over you. The most intense orgasm of your life erupts within you, snaking out from your core down to your feet and back up again, surging to your head and making everything go gray and fuzzy, your mind blinded with a pleasure you've never known. You hear distant, warbled words coming from Yunho's mouth still, but you can't make them out as your orgasm builds in waves, lasting longer than you expect and completely knocking the wind from your lungs. As you come down you’re breathing ragged, so ragged, and you don't even realize that you've clamped down so hard on Yunho's hand that he can't move it anymore. You stare up at him, pupils blown and your face flushed, and in a moment he leans down to place a soft peck on your cheek, taking you by surprise.

"Why are you kissing me?" you ask, eyeing him with confusion and contempt, the action seeming absurd in the current circumstances.

"I'm proud of you. You finally gave into me, you're finally doing what I wanted you to," he replies. It's fucked, you know the sentiment is creepy and strange and so genuinely absurd, but you can't help feeling flattered by it. A small smile sneaks onto your lips, and Yunho sees how you're feeling too. "God you're a sucker for praise," he laughs, slowly removing his hand now that you've relaxed enough. "All you want to hear is that you're good, you're perfect. Can't bear anything else, can you?" You shake your head, as he stands up from where he's been sitting, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out swiftly, eyeing you up and down. Your face is one of shock, mostly at seeing the size of him; you're not sure where this is headed exactly, but you just hope he'll be gentle with you, whatever he does.

"What, you thought I wasn't going to do this?" he asks, starting to move onto the bed beside you.

"No, it's just..." you sigh, shaking your head, not even sure what to fucking say, still in the haze of your orgasm.

"Oh, you didn't think I'd be this big," he laughs.

"You're so fucking full of yourself," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "Just make it quick, please," you say, almost under your breath, regretting it the moment it's left your lips.

"I'll take as much time as I fucking want with you," he responds, lining himself up with your still soaking entrance, rubbing the head around to gather up some of your wetness. He's fucking into you sideways, his body over yours as you remain on your side, bound and unable to move at all. He enters you slowly, feeling the stretch himself, seeing your eyebrows furrow in what must be pain.

"How long has it been?" he asks, leaning over you as he finally bottoms out, staying put as he lets your body adjust to the size of him. You look confused, so he clarifies, "since you've been fucked?"

You groan, the majority of your brainpower taken up in dealing with the strange mix of pain and pleasure happening between your legs. You don't have it in you to fight with him now, and you don't really want to; you're almost enjoying it now, just letting him talk and belittle and say whatever he pleases.

Once he feels your body relax just that little bit he needs, he moves his hips back, gently pushing himself back in again, but quickly setting a pace that feels good for him. He's holding one arm around your back and anchoring that hand on the back of your neck; the other arm is bent at the elbow, supporting him and holding onto your bound legs and arms, anchoring him to you. The thrusts feel intense, sharp, and biting at first, but soon all you can feel is the way he's repeatedly hitting your cervix, his cock so deep inside you that you feel like you might explode. You can't help the pathetic mewls you're making, eyes closed as you hear his steady grunts and heavy breathing so close to your ear.

"I know you've rejected tons of men, if it's been as long as I think," he says, and you feel his breath brushing across your cheek and neck, making you shiver. "Not just men, I should say. You're so fucking oblivious to everything. Do you even realize that Tally has a huge crush on you? I'm sure she'd love to fuck your brains out," he chuckles, making you groan in annoyance again, not believing him for a second. "I'm sorry, I know, forgive me. I can't help myself, I just love telling you all the things I know you don't realize." His pace hasn't let up, if anything it's increased, and his grip on you is tightening, his torso now flush with yours and his face only inches from your own. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer, shit you're tight," he sighs, a groan rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He knows his pace will leave you sore tomorrow, but it feels too good for him to stop, and it seems just the right thing to finally get your mind off all of the superfluous, stressful stuff you usually obsessively think about. It's not just that either; he can feel your body slowly coming undone again, and though it's built differently than the last time, the tell tale signs are there in the way your hips start moving against him, your breathing changing just like it did before. You come hard again, the feeling erupting from even higher inside your core this time, and it feels even more intense the second time around, your whole body shaking intensely this time.

"See, your body needed this," he whispers in your ear, his hard thrusts continuing through your aftershocks, soon becoming painful and hard to bear. Your face has turned sour as he chases his own climax, and even as bad as it feels, part of you is so content to just sit here and take it. The feeling of having no other option, of being held here and used for another's pleasure, it makes some of your internal confusion go away. You liked this part at least; maybe everything that came before was not to your liking, but this part definitely was.

He finishes with a final hard thrust, groaning out a 'fuck', before pressing his hips flush with yours and keeping them there. You feel his warm cum filling you, his warm body wrapping around you, and finally you do truly feel warm, from the inside out. This was a feeling you could get used to, your head fuzzy and soft and lacking the usual worries you have, your body relaxed, spent, and warm.

It isn't long that you're in that position, Yunho pulling out of you quickly, walking over to his bathroom to grab a towel and start wiping you and his comforter clean of the mess he'd made. The absence of him left you feeling cold again, your body stiffening up faster than you thought it would, and your shivers returning as soon as he took the damp towel to your most sensitive area. Eyes closed you're still holding onto the remnants of that blissful feeling, especially the way your brain feels so wonderfully empty. You're surprised when you feel Yunho messing with your ropes, assuming he'd just leave you there for a little while, or maybe for a long while, it was hard to say. But quickly he's undone the entirety of the knots, and he tosses the rope onto the floor, manually moving your limbs to help your body stretch out and begin returning blood flow to the places that lost it.

It hurts when he does this, though it feels good too, but you whine and complain the whole time, even as he assures you it's best and it's needed. He then slowly takes off your clothes entirely, leaving you naked and exposed, and the cold is almost overbearing now, making your body ache all the way into your bones.

"It's fucking cold, you asshole," you groan, tucking yourself back up into that fetal position you were just in for so long, despite the fact that the ropes are gone now.

"Just give me a minute, I know," he sighs, somewhere behind you, over in the direction of his bathroom. You hear what must be the bathtub faucet turn on, the strong current of water sounding clearly through the quiet house. Then he's coming over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and carrying you that way, setting you gently into his huge tub before it's even finished filling. The hot water feels like it's sizzling your skin upon first contact, but soon your body relaxes in the warmth, especially your back once the water reaches all the way up to your neck. His tub is nice; there are spots designed specifically to rest your arms on, the slope of the side a comfortable angle for relaxing down onto.

"Give me your arms," he says, and you look up at him begrudgingly, holding your arms out of the water like it's the hardest thing in the world.

"Little brat," he mutters, taking the first into his hands and slowly applying some lotion to your rope burns, wrapping it loosely in a thin bandage. He does the same to the other, setting them both on the sides of the tub, out of the water. "Keep them there, I'm going to get some ice. We need to ice those burns so they don't bruise too badly," he says, and you just stare through him, not nodding or saying anything. He doesn't need that kind of confirmation though, he knows you'll follow his commands. He returns a few minutes later, two ice packs and more bandages in hand, and somehow balanced between it all, your phone.

"It looks like you have some missed calls," he says, showing you your phone screen. You see three missed calls from Yunji, and a slew of texts, and your heart jumps back up in speed momentarily, even in your relaxed and numb state.

"I gotta call her now," you say, your words rushed, reaching out your bandaged wrist to grab at your phone. Yunho holds it just out of reach though, and then sets it down on the counter by the sink, turning back to you with a knowing look.

"I need to ice your wrists first. Then we'll call her," he says.

"Yunho, seriously, she's gonna call the fucking police, I know her," you respond, eyeing him sharply with disapproval.

"And you, seriously, need to wait a moment," he snaps, and you really don't like this control now, because it's affecting someone else, not just you.

"I fucking hate you," you mutter, pushing yourself up despite your weak and painful muscles, moving yourself out of his bathtub without a care in the world for all of the water you're spilling everywhere.

"Okay, okay, fine," he concedes, holding onto your shoulders while your one foot is still in the tub, not letting you move any further. "I'm putting it on speaker on the side of the tub, so that I can ice your wrists." Your faces are inches apart, the look in his eye is intense, almost like he's compelling you to agree with him.

"Fine," you sigh, sitting yourself back down, your body basking in being back in the water. Then, as he said, he's set your phone on the side of the tub, somehow guessing your passcode and opening it with ease, calling Yunji immediately. As the call begins to ring he sets to work on your wrists again, gently wrapping the ice packs around the smaller bandages already on your sensitive skin.

"Girl, oh my god, where are you??" Yunji answers, her panic obvious.

"I'm- I'm at Yunho's, I'm fine though, I swear-" you start, knowing she'll be horrified by just his name alone.

"Oh my god what???" she cuts you off, gasping. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Yes I'm okay, Yun, I promise. I just- I ran into him on my way back from the store, and well, I got sort of, tied up, talking with him, and then the storm came so- so now I'm stuck here." Yunho's face breaks into a smirk, knowing just how literal two of the words you just said are.

"Oh god, you poor thing, are you sure you're okay? That man is insane," she sighs. Yunho eyes you, a playful look on his face, almost like he's trying to avoid laughing.

"Seriously, I'm okay, I promise. It was actually really good, I guess, talking about things. We were more, uh, honest I guess? I- I don't know, there's a lot to process. It was weird. But I'm okay, I- I swear," you sigh, wishing you weren't stuttering so much over your words.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks again.

"I know I sound like a mess, I'm sorry. The storm is kind of freaking me out," you reply.

"It's okay hun, don't apologize. I can't believe you're stuck there with him. God, I don't think you'll be able to come home tonight. Is there somewhere you can sleep there?" Yunho nods at her question, eyeing you as he does.

"Uh, yeah, he has a guest room here. He said I could stay in there. At least it's separate, my own space," you answer her.

"God, I'm so sorry you're there. I shouldn't have let you go to the store, I should have stopped you..." she trials off, and you can bet her hand is slapped over her face in frustration.

"No, don't apologize Yun, I think it was good that this happened. I mean, I don't know, at least something has changed between me and him. And you had no idea that the storm would return so quickly like it did. It was my own stupidity, if anything, I just-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head side to side against the hard porcelain of the tub. "Thank you for checking up on me, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was just talking with him, I got distracted. I hate that I worried you so much." It feels a little weird lying to her, but above all you want her to know you appreciate how much she looks out for you.

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're safe and okay. And hopefully tomorrow it'll clear up enough that you can come back here where you belong."

Her last word brings tears to your eyes, thinking of your perfect little apartment and just how much of a home you two have made of it.

"I love you so much," you sigh, looking over at your phone, wishing you were seeing her face instead.

"I love you too, I wish you were here," she replies.

"I know, me too," you say.

"We can keep talking if you want."

"I- I should probably go, I'm starving so I guess I need to go ask Yunho about dinner. But I'll call later, if that's okay? I'm sure I'll be bored as shit," you chuckle, and she does too, the tension finally breaking.

"Sounds good, call me whenever. I hope he has something decent for you to eat. I doubt he can cook or anything, if he's such a spoiled rich boy." You both laugh in sync, Yunho rolling his eyes as he places the final bandage on your second wrist, securing the ice packs in place.

"Okay, talk to you soon," you say, smirking up at him.

"Bye bye," she replies, hanging up the call.

"You two are so mean," he sighs, shaking his head and walking out of the room, and you relax into the silence of the room, your wrists starting to feel the cold of the ice packs, the relief palpable. Your body is wrecked, you can feel it intensely, but the warm bath relaxing your muscles and ice on your wrists is making it bearable, your body already on the path towards healing. Yunho returns about ten minutes later, when you've almost nodded off, and takes a small washcloth into the warm water, using it to wipe the snot and tears that have stained your cheeks. Then he's feeding you a warm cup of tea, holding it as your arms lay unusable at your sides; he does the same with the small bowl of stew he's heated for you, the tastes rich and fresh in a way that make it obvious it's homemade. The attentiveness doesn't feel overly sweet, but the calm that's settled in the air between you isn't something you've experienced with him at all, the entire time you've known one another. You're both silent, comfortable, and the warm stew is just so delicious, the meat tender and soft and perfectly seasoned. Your senses are overwhelmed in solace, your breaths deep and stable. Your nerves have returned to you, so you're no longer numb. But instead of the high strung alertness that usually accompanies you, your body is present but calm.

When you finally finish the stew and tea, thirty minutes have passed in total silence, Yunho taking his time with feeding you, letting your body relax in the hot water. He places the empty bowl and mug on the counter, moving back to start unwrapping the ice packs, and then beckoning you to stand, bringing a huge fluffy towel to wrap around your shoulders. The towel dwarfs you, keeping the cold away, and you gently step out of the tub, following Yunho wherever he leads you.

"Can you walk?" he asks, and you nod your head, following him over towards the counter. He pulls out a brush from one of the drawers, gently taking it to the knots that had formed in your hair, the ends damp from the tub. After he finishes he leads you out of his room, down the hall two doors down, and you enter to another room with a large bed, a TV on the opposite wall, the whole room immaculately decorated. He leads you to the bed, placing your phone on the bedside table and grabbing a charger out of the drawer. He also grabs the remote inside, placing it next to your phone, and a bottle of water, holding it out to you.

"I'll be in my room, if you need anything else," he says, standing up to make his way out.

"I'm sorry I kept ignoring your texts, and calls," you say, your voice quiet, the words escaping you without much thought.

He just eyes you for a minute, turning to face you, his face unreadably neutral. "I'm not," he finally says, smiling, that cocky grin back on his perfect face. You roll your eyes at him, settling into the bed, pulling the comforter up and over you.

He makes to leave the room again, but stops himself at the door, turning back to face you one final time

"We're going back to the office Monday, right?" he asks.

You don't respond, you don't say a word. But he doesn't need you to. He knows the answer, just like he knows you, with a certainty maybe he shouldn't have.

taglist: @lalalasexyguyshehehehe @hoe4rkpop @rienzz @bloomyroses

thank you sm for reading my loves <3333

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #dark fic

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fanboyoff1 · 27 days ago

Text

Landoscar- Losing your bags at the airport (1.7k words)

Hello all! This is based off that one tweet about Lando losing his bags at the airport and Oscar staying with him. Disclaimer- I know nothing about airports, all of this was google searched stuff, so go easy on me. (I made it an American airport because dealing with a language barrier was too complicated lol) It's mostly fluff, but I suppose a bit of angst?

Also, this is my first fic I'm posting online, so please be kind ❤️

Lando sighed loudly, blowing hair out of his face as he exhaled. He wasn’t the biggest fan of airports by principle. They’re boring, the lines are long, and the whole thing seems so much bigger than it needs to be. But it’s kind of a necessary part of his job, so he’d mostly gotten used to waiting for stupid amounts of time at airports.

But this is just kinda ridiculous. He and Oscar had been waiting for Lando’s suitcase to show up at baggage claim for… well he didn’t know how long it had been, but it was longer than he’d ever had to wait before. Even worse, Oscar’s bag had practically been the first to get dumped out onto the carousel, because of course it had. They were going to the hotel together, so Oscar was staying with him. The Aussie was on his phone, sitting on his suitcase and texting someone. Lando hated the silence, so he tore his eyes away from Oscar’s gorgeous side profile and yawned.

“This is taking foreverrr,” he said, stretching from his place crouched on the floor.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Oscar corrected, not once looking up from his phone.

“Screen-ager,” Lando decided to retaliate. Oscar looked up now, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment clear on his face. Lando looked back to the baggage carousel, satisfied by getting a reaction out of the younger man.

Oscar cleared his throat. “How about we just wait a few more minutes and then go to the baggage desk.”

“Huh?”

“The baggage desk. Where you go if you lose your luggage. It’s right there.” He pointed, and sure enough, back against the wall and a few carousels down was a little front desk-looking thing, with neon letters spelling out ‘Baggage Desk’ above it.

“Oh,” Lando mumbled, adjusting his hat.

“I’ll just tell Zak we’ll be a bit later than expected,” Oscar said, giving Lando a blinding smile that made his stomach twist with that complicated more-than-just-a-crush feeling he preferred not to think about. He hummed in response, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

After a few more minutes, everyone that had been on their flight (aka about half the Mclaren crew, including Zak and Andrea who had ditched them first chance they got) had left, and Lando was getting more and more stressed out. He was biting his lip and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, imagining practically every worse-case scenario. What if his suitcase got on the wrong flight? What if there was something bad in there he didn’t realize and they wouldn’t let him get his stuff? What if some rando took his stuff?

He didn’t realize Oscar was talking to him until a hand waved in front of his face. He looked to his teammate who was already staring at him worriedly.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, resting his hand on Lando’s arm. Lando managed a small, likely unconvincing nod.

Oscar let go of his upper arm with a gentle squeeze, and Lando might just melt away at the spot. “Well, I was asking you if you wanted to go to the baggage desk and ask about your suitcase?”

Lando nodded again and stood, walking away before even giving Oscar a chance to do so as well. He felt a bit bad as he heard Oscar scramble upright and start pulling his suitcase behind him, but it had been a long day and he really just needed to collapse into his hotel room now.

He reached the desk and made eye contact with a short woman, her long brown hair tied up in a low ponytail and wearing official looking clothes, who was standing near the back of the small room. She rushed forward and sat down in a swivel chair, pushing her glasses up.

“What’s your issue, dearie?” she said in a strong Southern accent, only slightly muffled by the thick glass separating them.

“Uh, can’t find my bag. Didn't show up,” he said with a guilty smile. He tried to turn on his charm as much as possible, his train of thought being, Maybe if I’m nice she’ll be nice back and then I can go to bed quicker.

“Alright love. Name?”

“Lando Norris,” he said. Oscar had reached him by now, standing so close to his side that their shoulders were almost brushing against each other.

The lady did some typing on her computer, then let out a little tsk sound in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, it seems like your luggage got sent to the wrong place. We’re trying to get it here as we speak.”

Lando shot a glance back to Oscar, who raised his eyebrows. “Do you know what happened?” he asked the lady. He looked at the pin on her shirt, which said her name was Charlotte. Huh, she didn’t look like a Charlotte.

Charlotte gave a shrug in response. “Could’ve been anything. My guess, there wasn’t enough space in the cargo hold on your plane. It got placed on the wrong extra-storage space, and got sent somewhere else. You’ll have to wait until it gets here. That might take a while.”

Lando worked hard to suppress a groan. “Okay. Thanks.” He tried for a smile that ended up more like a grimace.

“You two can sit in one of those chairs on the right while you wait,” Charlotte said with a sympathetic smile. Lando turned to his right and flopped into a chair. At least they were cushioned.

This night was turning shitty fast. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? And what was even more awful about this was that Oscar had to stay with him.

“Sorry about this,” he told his friend, who looked at him confused.

“Why? It’s nothing you could control.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain that somehow he was blaming himself for this. No, he’d never tell Oscar that, he’d think he was weird. The edge of Lando’s eyes were starting to water with tears, and he wanted to scream. You’re such a baby. What’s your problem? Bury it, you can’t do this right now. Crybaby.

“Hey, Lando, it’s okay,” Oscar said, reaching out with one hand. He touched Lando’s shoulder tenderly. “I don’t mind.”

Lando hugged his legs to his chest and buried his head in his knees. “I’m just having a bad day,” he mumbled, and for a second he wasn’t sure if Oscar heard him.

“That’s alright,” Oscar said, and he let go of Lando’s arm. Lando didn’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of contact though, because then Oscar’s arm was wrapping around his shoulders and gently tugging him closer. Lando practically fell onto his chest, and could feel his cheeks reddening.

“This okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You can rest. You know, if you want. I know you’re tired.”

“Will you wake me up when my suitcase shows up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Oscar hummed, and Lando let himself sink into his embrace, their breaths and heartbeats syncing. Oscar was really cuddly, he thought as he drifted off.

# # #

“Hey, Lando, wake up.”

Osc, Lando thought and smiled. “Wake up, Lando.” Then someone was gently pushing his shoulder, and he blearily opened his eyes.

He took in his surroundings with a moment of slight confusion before remembering. The airport. His bags. Crying. Oscar.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the man in question said, and Lando swore he felt his fingers brushing through his curls. “C’mon, your stuff got here.”

A part of Lando wanted to jump up and start doing a victory dance on the spot. The annoyance of getting up overruled it though. He was so comfy.

Wait, where exactly was he? He knew he was at the airport, but this was way too comfy for a chair. His eyes flickered around trying to figure it out, and oh God he was in Oscar’s lap. He quickly sat up, using his hands to push himself upright. However, he didn’t account for where he was putting his hands, and ended up putting half of his weight on Oscar’s thigh. Oscar let out a little grunt of pain, wincing.

“Oh shit, sorry sorry sorry,” Lando hurriedly apologized, backing up.

“No no, you’re fine,” Oscar reassured him, but his voice was strained. He looked at Lando with a smirk. “Are you trying to sabotage me, Lando Norris?”

“I’m sorry!”

Oscar just giggled and stood. He reached a hand out to Lando, who took it. He used his free hand to grab his suitcase and took off confidently to the left, not releasing his tight grasp on Lando’s hand.

“Uh, where are we going?” Lando asked, desperately trying to stop the stupid butterflies rising in his stomach. God he was so childish, they were literally just holding hands. But they were holding hands.

“To get your bag. Obviously.”

With no further explanation, he proceeded to get dragged through what felt like half the airport. Not that he minded. Every once in a while Oscar would look back and give him a trademark Osc Smile that made his insides turn to mush, so that made up for the mystery part pretty well.

Finally they reached their destination, some obscure part of the airport. A few official people gave him his suitcase along with many apologies and a crap ton of airline points (not that those were especially helpful to him, Mclaren paid for most of his flights anyways. It was a nice gesture though.) He accepted the apologies quickly, not wanting to drag out this process any longer than necessary.

Then they were in a taxi headed to their hotel, and the exhaustion was coming back ten-fold.

“Tired?” Oscar asked once Lando had yawned for the fifth time.

“Just a bit,” Lando quipped.

“Want to sleep again?”

“You’re fine with it?”

“Of course.”

Lando hesitantly let his head fall on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s arm found its way around his shoulders again.

Just before Lando fell asleep again, he felt a feather-light kiss pressing against his head, and he scooted closer to Oscar with a sigh.

Here are some people who said they were interested: @slugesh, @peppysinc, @sunnykasarova, @alto-the-avocado, @lailau7904, @standgrand, @chamberkat

#lando norris #oscar piastri #landoscar #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #let me know what you think!

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grippingbeskar · 2 years ago

Text

the right way to do it

johnny ‘soap’ mctavish x fem!reader

warnings— explicit content 18+ minors dni (nothin crazy, if you’ve read any of my fics you’ll be fine, just classic dirty talk and fuckin’, tiny bit of voyerism tho. whoops. generally soft tho, what can i say? i love soft and sweet stuff okay! let me be.) no fucking plot really. established (sort of) relationship. soap my baby boy being sexy.

a/n— i guarantee this is fucking terrible, but then again it’s fucking call of duty fan fiction. like, what the fuck. who writes that?? (oh. oh. i do now, apparently. kill me!) hope ya like it anyways!

“Stop it.” You use your knee to bash into the side of Soaps’ leg under the table, and he flinches so hard his chair drags along the ground with a loud squeak. He looks at you, his jaw open, shocked. Dramatic to the end. “You’re going to get us caught.”

Soaps hand retreats from your thigh, a smug grin on his face as he slides his chair back next to you, closer this time. The heat of his body is pressed against the line of yours, from his broad shoulders all the way down to where your matching combat boots touch on the floor. You can feel him laugh against you when you squirm in your chair, knowing he’s smiling even though he’s turned his head back to the front of the room. Smug bastard.

He knows just how easy you are to mess with.

After a while, when everyone’s attention has gone back to the droning meeting some of the Captains’ declared mandatory, Soap turns back to you, head flopping to the side and his eyebrows raised.

“You look flustered, hen. What’s gotcha all hot and bothered?” He grins lazily, the kind where it only lights up half his face, and you want to slap him. Dumb smile.

“Stop it.”

“You started it.” He retorts, reaching out for you again under the table.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes widen, pouting like a child. He was right, of course. You did start it, you just didn’t expect him to try and finish it in the middle of a meeting. “Johnny, this isn’t the time—“

“Ohh, I think it’s just the right time. Just like you thought playin’ with me like that at breakfast was the right time.” Your cheeks heat at the memory, how quickly he’d lost his ability to speak when you pressed up against him from behind and snuck your hands down his pants. He’d only just had the mind to moan your name before you disappeared, leaving him high and dry in the entrance to the mess hall.

You feel him again, deft fingers pulling you from your thoughts and looping into the pocket of your pants. You knew it was wrong— there were so many people in this room, and you should be paying attention, but all the fight just rushes out of you as soon as you feel him soothe circles onto your thigh, the thin barrier of material all that separates him from you.

“Hm. No come back f��me now? Cause this mornin’ you were allllll talk, but now—“ You feel him slide his hand out of your pocket, slowly so no one picks up on his movements. Then, he’s dipping it down further, curling his fingers around the meat of your thigh, hand dangerously high up. If you moved even an inch, took a breath too deep, he’d be… “Now, you gone all quiet on me.”

Voices start talking around you, but you can’t hear them anymore. Your heartbeat is too loud in your ears, and the only thing you tune into is his voice; lower and closer now. His chair creaks as he leans, the pressure on your thigh harder as he grips you to balance.

“C’mon. You know how much I love to hear your pretty little noises. Let me make ya’ feel good, love.” You can hear the smile in his voice. He was such an asshole, and he knew it. He knew he had you right there.

You shiver, and your feet move without your help. Just an inch to the side, you give him space between your legs to let his hand rise a little higher. It doesn’t matter that he’s got a shit eating grin, or how many eyes are potentially on you both right now, how many people are in this room— you have no fight when it comes to him.

“Yeah. There you are, love. You wan’ it that bad, don’t ya’? You’d let me give it to ya right here.” He whispers, words brushing against the shell of his ear. You think he must of chosen a pair of seats in the back just for this reason. “T’s alright. I’m not mean like you. I’ll give ya anything ya want.”

You turn your head to him sharply, giving him a pointed look. ‘Not mean’. He was a dick. A complete, total utter asshole—

“Shit, Johnny.” You curse as the strong line of his hand presses right up against your heat. Your hands fly from beside you, fingernails digging into his forearm, doing a pathetic attempt at pushing him away. “Wait…wait. We can’t—“

“Mhmm. Same thing I said this mornin’.” You squeeze your eyes shut, biting down on your bottom lip to stop from making any sounds. “You remember what you said t’me?”

His hand moves slowly, testing how much you wanted him to stop. He knew if you really wanted to, you could push him away easily. It’s almost sad how little you resist him, and your hips chase his movement of the aching drag up and down. It’s not enough, but for where you are right now, it’s far too fucking much.

“You two paying attention back there?” A booming voice calls from the front of the room, and Soap stops moving his hand. Your eyes open, and before you can squeak out a reply, he’s saving your ass.

“Of course, Captain. Always love our chats, you know that.” He says happily, saluting casually with his free hand, the other still between your legs. A few laughs muffle through the room, and it’s enough that the Captain goes back to reciting whatever was written on the board behind him. Soap leans back down to you. “Careful. You’ll get us caught.”

You roll your eyes, and he takes the chance of your short lived seclusion to press a chaste kiss to your neck. You gasp, eyes flying open.

“I asked you a question.”

“What are you…” You say, air struggling to get into your lungs with short, punched inhales. “Fuck, you gotta stop. We can’t do this here.”

“This morning. I told you to stop, and you said… ‘aw, but you look so pretty like this’. That’s what ya said.” You bite back a groan, remembering exactly that moment. How hard he was when your fingers brushed over his pants, how desperate he sounded. Okay… it was a bitchy move. But that was you and Soap. You teased each other. Surely he wouldn’t take it this far, though. “So mean to me. After I treat you so good last night too, aye?”

The lights dim around you, the Captains’ up the front starting to sit around the dull white background they’ve dropped. You know it means some boring report that’s been sent in, and it means a solid twenty minutes of your life you’ll never get back while some dude yells at you through a projector. Usually you dread this part. But right now, you are fucking antsy. Excited.

“Sh-shut up. You’re just as bad as me—fuck.” He’s not just touching you now— no, his hands, warm and strong, are splaying on the skin of your tummy and sliding down past the buttons of your military pants. He doesn’t waste time, dipping into your underwear and finding you soaked, a little ‘tsk’ coming from him in a heavy accent when he swirls his fingers softly around your clit.

“You okay, baby? You look a little out of it…” You manage to make eye contact with him, and the fucker is chastising you. A fake sympathetic smile is on his face, puppy dog eyes like he’s speaking to a child. “Don’t worry, I’ll give ya’ what you fuckin’ want. Right here, in front of all the boys. So dirty.”

“Soap.” You choke out, the pads of his fingers setting a slow, easy rhythm that has you nearly vibrating off the chair.

“Don’t call us that. What’s my name, baby?” He hums, shuffling his chair so close it’s clanking against yours now. “C’mon. Who’s makin’ you feel this fuckin’ good right now?”

“God— you, Johnny. You fucking prick.” You whisper, the low lights of the room hiding your fidgeting figure as the video continues to play on the projector at the front. “Come on, please…I can’t—“

“Shh. You’re okay, sweetheart. Nice and slow, aye?” His nose brushes along your cheek, and your shoulders sag. “Cause ya’ look so pretty. Just f’me.”

You all but sink into it, your body slumping into his chest as he keeps that same, stupidly slow pace. Heat licks up your stomach, staying low and making you start to sweat all over. You hear Soap hum, and feel his lips against your jaw, the touch hardly there but scorching none the less.

His teeth nip at the skin he kissed, and you squeak at the harsh touch, soon covered by kisses much more sure of themselves than the first. With the darkness of the room, he must feel more confident, because his free hand angles your head down, and his mouth claims yours.

While his hand circles between your legs, light and gentle, his mouth is harsh and fast. Johnny kisses you like he’s trying to overwhelm you. It’s always desperate and begging, even when he’s controlling you like this. It’s like if he doesn’t kiss you hard and fast, something real will show, and he’s scared of it.

While you’ve never labelled what the hell this… thing is, when he kisses you like this it’s clear he’s hiding something. You’re the same, so you happily take it. Whatever it is between you, it’s stupid and reckless, and it’s better to not be vulnerable. Being on the same team, throwing yourselves into war after war, taking bullets for each other like it’s a sport— you shouldn’t care this much about each other. It was stupid. It’s why it was easier for you both to pretend you were just using each other as an outlet.

It was just sex. Just a release.

“Fuck, Johnny.“ You whimper in his mouth, and he muffles the sound as he pulls you closer, locking your lips to his. “Please.”

“Please what, love? Huh? You want it faster?” He smiles on your lips, hands picking up the pace just slightly. “S’greedy, in front of everyone.”

Your body feels heavy. The hand holding his forearm, the one supposed to be putting up resistance has instead moulded to an encouraging spectator, slowly tracing the inside of his wrist. Your chest heaves, nearly making you wheeze every breath, and when your eyes flutter open, seeing his face painted in a glowing blue and green from the film lights, your legs nearly shake at the sight.

“Please get me out of here, okay? You win. Y-you… Jesus Christ, you win.” He grins. The audacity of this fucking guy, to grin in your face, blatantly admitting he just wanted to beat you today. Win this weeks battle with who was more whipped for who. He’s mentally marking it on a board, and you know he’ll throw it back in your face when you try to push him away again, but you let him have it.

Maybe you want him to have more ammunition next time you’re faced with the consequences of a bad mission. Where Soap needs to be surrounded, reminded he’s not alone after a long ride in the desert, you need to be alone. Want to be alone. You want to rot in your room, blinds drawn and covers over your head, a distant belief that if you sit there long enough you’ll just melt into the mattress and fade away.

He’s the only one that can pull you out. Even if it takes him just holding you in the dark, cold silence, or letting you yell at him that you don’t want him around, don’t need him bothering you— he takes it. He won’t break, not when it comes to you. He coaxes you out with the memory of how much you’re lying to yourself. How bad you do need him.

He’ll use this one next time for sure. How you dragged him out of a meeting, claiming something about a ‘medical emergency’ just so he could take you back to your room and fuck you.

You don’t mind. You think you might like it when he does.

He secretly does too. For all his bravado, the only person he wants to be around after a mission is you. As annoying as you are, and dramatic and fucking stubborn, he still toes his way to your room every time, sneaks his way under your covers, and hides out with you until everyone else is asleep. You think he needs the company of someone, when he really just needs you.

Your nails are digging into his shoulder, dragging him by the uniform down a hallway and around the corner to your room. You only get about halfway before he’s slamming you into the wall, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth and runs his hands over your body. He doesn’t even touch your skin, just grazes over the thick layers of clothes, but he’s still got you arching into his touch so you press against his chest. He nips your lower lip and smacks you lightly on the arse, giving you the chance to jump up into his arms.

He takes you in stride, everything about him confident and smooth. Even the things he doesn’t expect, he lets it come like easy, gentle waves. It’s almost impossible to catch him off guard— the first time you kissed him he acted like he played you all along.

When your back hits the softness of your bed, you open your eyes. You don’t remember moving this far, or locking the door behind you, but you know Johnnys’ got you. He always has you covered. Takes care of it so you don’t have to think.

“Take your fucking shirt off.” You grumble, clawing at the buttons of his top. He laughs, head buried in the crook of your neck where you know he’s leaving bruises and marks.

“So mean. Don’t even know how to act right when your under me.” The words sound like they should be threatening, or at the very least sarcastic, but he just sounds… happy. You can hear the smile in his voice, and when he pulls his head back up, he’s delirious almost. Pupils blown out, breathless laughter kissing your cheeks as he shuffles over the top of you. “You’re gorgeous like this. You know that?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, not able to look up at him. He’s better at this— the feelings. Even though neither of you can look each other in the eye to pay a compliment outside these moments, right here he’s the opposite. Always calling you pretty, looking at you with those happy eyes, betraying all the words the two of you throw at each other when your mad.

“Shirt, Johnny.”

“Hmm. You wanna see me?”

“Yeah. Hate it when you don’t let me see you. I… want to touch you.” It’s a small confession, spurred on by his compliment, and it seems to throw him off just a bit.

“Yeah?” You nod, your hands gently skimming along the strong line of his jaw. Pfft, you were gorgeous— he… he was fucking gorgeous. “What are you thinkin’ about right now?”

“How nice you are to look at.”

“Think that’s the first nice thing you said to me today.”

“I called you pretty this morning.” You remind him, a small smile from him making your earlier anger start to melt into something soft and gooey.

“You did.”

“Meant it too.” He rolls his eyes this time, and you keep your hands on his face.

“Bet you say that to all the boys.” He blows out a dramatic sigh, head tilting to the side. He’s trying to play it off. Play it into something funny and not real. Not true. You shake your head at him, eyebrows drawn together. The confidence in your fuzzy brain will disappear in a second, but you grab hold of it enough to get the next few words out.

“Never. No one but you, Johnny. I don’t want anyone else but you.” He blinks, stopping his movement for a second. Where he usually starts laughing, calls you greedy, maybe calls you a few dirty names, instead he pauses, scrunches his face together, and lets out a breath like you’ve punched him in the chest. “John?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans down, hovering his mouth over yours just for a second. You feel a warm palm cup your burning cheek, and he locks his eyes on you. The few seconds he holds there feel like eternity. Everything moves in slow motion, his stare freezing your heart inside you.

It’s heavy. Loaded with something dangerous. Something illegal. Something you can’t have.

Then, he leans down and kisses you.

He’s done it a hundred times, but this is… it’s just different. It’s so, so soft. His hand holds you to the bed, keeping you still, keeping you malleable for him. His lips connect, only for a few seconds, kissing you like you’ll cut him if he moves too quick. When he does press closer, you feel him sigh— the forearm of his free arm drops next to your head, like the weight of him was too much.

You don’t remember your eyes closing. It must of been too much to look at him when he’s touching you so gently. Like he really cared. Wanted to care.

It’s over too soon. You find yourself leaning up, chasing the softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue. His hand keeps you down, and he never looks away as he uses the other to rip his shirt over his head. The soft clang of his dog tags tangle under his chin, and draw your attention lower, to his chest.

You don’t know if you’ve told him how attracted to him you are. You know he knows— he’d have to by now. You wouldn’t have gotten with him at first if you weren’t. It’s why this whole thing started. It was just physical at first, but then he started talking, started staying longer after, and now it was fucking overwhelming. Everything about him was more and more alluring, and your hands reached out before you could stop them. You smile at the way he lets you explore. That he remembers what you said, and lets you indulge.

Your fingertips brushed their way over his stomach, and he nearly shivered under the soft touch. He was staring at you, watching your every move as you traced languid lines over and up his chest. He was breathing hard, and when your fingers twisted in the long chain of his tags, he nearly stopped completely. You yanked him back down, hovering him over you, as one of his hands comes back to brace near your head.

Wordless stills, he snakes his arm down between your bodies and pulls at the hem of your shirt. You obey the silent command, never breaking eye contact as you tug your jacket and shirt off in one go. Suddenly, you feel something you’ve never felt with him before.

You’re vulnerable.

Usually, it’s all fight. The two of you are either so mad at each other that you spend the entire time trying to win, trying to get a higher score, or you’re both so frustrated that you hardly even look each other in the eye. This is… heavy.

He leans down again, his eyes shutting tightly before he kisses you. You hum, unable to not smile underneath him as he kisses you with that same gentle affection, and your hands thread up behind his neck into the short crop of his hair, tugging him down closer. Skin meets skin, warmth blooming in your chest as he slides up your body to fit his hips between your legs. His mouth melts into yours, groaning as you tug his hair a little bit harder.

He says your name, the sound curling around your throat and choking out a strangled whimper, and then he grinds his hips slow and heavy into you, your mind going a bit blank.

“Shit. What are we… what are you doing? Hurry the fu…fuck. Fuck.” Your eyes roll back with another slow roll of his hips, and he laughs breathlessly.

“Shh. Just go with it.” He does it again, leaving a wet trail of kisses under your jaw and down to his favourite spot on your neck. He’s taking his time, tasting your skin like it’s something to be savoured. “T’s nice, isn’t it? Feels good.”

“Yeah…f-feels good.” You mumble, hiding your face in the pillows as he tugs your pants down, throwing them somewhere behind him.

He doesn’t treat himself as nice, ripping at his own pants and ridding them as quick as possible. Then he’s sinking back over you, letting you feel just how much he likes it like this. When you wrap your arms around him again and kiss him, he’s warm and safe, and you let him sweep you up into it.

He slides his hand down slow, fingers hardly grazing your clit and going past, and you know he’s fucking with you on purpose. You whine his name, and he laughs— the familiarity of the sound making you a little more confident. You bite his lower lip a bit harder than you should, and he groans.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Mactavish.” You whine pitifully, and he shakes his head.

“Not teasin, princess. Enjoyin’ it.” He draws out the words, each of them twirled in his strong accent that somehow makes you even dizzier than before.

“You didn’t enjoy it before?” You pout, and this time he laughs a little harder. Before he answers, one of his fingers slide up, and then easily slip inside of you, curling slowly so you arch of the bed.

“Yer aff yeir heid.” He mumbles, kissing you quickly like he’s trying to shut off that thought. “Just like takin’ my time with ya. Get to see more of you. You’re beautiful.”

Your chest is heavy, and you can’t focus, pleasure lighting up every nerve in your body. You feel him against your inner thigh, hard and warm, and every slight movement has him panting into your mouth. You know he’s built up from this morning, how you left him waiting and didn’t even look back. You feel bad. Horrible.

How could you leave him there? How could you leave him anywhere now, when he was looking at you like this? Like you held answers he’d been searching for all his life, right in your eyes?

It’s never been this slow. God— it fucking hurts, that’s how slow it’s moving. His fingers curl inside of you, no rush, hitting just the right spot in a way that would have you cumming in his hand if he just sped up a little. This way, he keeps you on edge, right on the precipice— hoping he lets you fall into it. You’re at his mercy, but from the feeling of him, he’s at yours, too.

“Johnny— that’s feels so good. You’re so g-good, please.” You wheeze out, feeling waves of blinding heat surging low in your tummy. He kisses you again, and you could finish just from this. The sweetness of his mouth, how his words drip like honey over your cheek, how careful he is. How loving.

“You’re okay, bonnie. You just keep ya eyes on me. I’ll take care of everythin’ else.” Your eyebrows furrow, eyes trying to focus as you feel your muscles tighten. His thumb presses lightly on your clit; soft circles drawing you into another embarrassing whine of his name. “Come on. Show me how good ya are f’me.”

“Jesus— fuck!” It feels different. You can hardly see, hardly hear anything but his low, soothing voice in your ear, telling you how sexy you are, how tight you feel around his fingers. You want to tell him to… to keep going, or stop, both— something. You want to say something, but all that comes out is his name.

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny—

You can’t control it. Pleasure blinds you— it’s cliche but it’s all you can describe it as. Your toes curl, and your fingers scrape down his back to try and find a way to ground yourself. You try to muffle your sounds, but Soap keeps your head forward with a hand on your jaw. So he can watch your face when you cum from his fingers.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Fuckin’ hell—“ You hear his voice groan in your ear, and the pleasure makes your legs shake. You’re vaguely aware that his hand slows, lazily playing with your clit as you ride out your high, but mainly you watch as he comes back into focus. You watch his eyes— pupils dilated, looking at you in awe. “You sound so pretty when you come. Fuckin’ gorgeous girl.”

Seriously— you think you’ve only seen him look like that when something blows up in front of him. Sort of mystified and obsessed.

You’re gasping for air as he moves you, flipping you over and shuffling you up the bed. You lose track of him, the haze of pleasure dumbing you down to only the most basic of movements, but then he’s there again, and you reach out.

He takes your hands, kissing your palms before pulling you to him, legs parting on instinct as he draws you into his lap. He’s leant himself against the headboard, and at some point taken off his boxers, but now, when your legs give out and you lean your weight on him, you both gasp at the feeling. His cock is hard, pressing against your wet heat, and he’s nearly shivering in anticipation. One of his hands paw at your hips, pulling you closer so your pussy drags along his length, and the other cups your cheek.

Time stops again, just for a second. His eyes pull you in, and you blink a few times to focus. His thumb traces your bottom lip. He says something you don’t understand under his breath, muttering in a heavy accent.

“Johnny…” You whisper, your heart racing.

“Yeah, love.”

“What are you doing to me?” You could cry, you were so under his spell right now. If he wanted to, this could be the ultimate win. He could shatter you with a few mean words— but for some reason, you didn’t think he would.

“You know what I’m doin’. What this is. Don’t you, love?” His thumb catches your chin, pulling you into one of those soft kisses he’s been hiding from you, and it’s so classic of him you nearly laugh.

Everything he does, he does in stride. With confidence. Even this— a changing of a reliable tide, a shift in your relationship into a strange and unpredictable horizon, he handles like he’s always known it was coming. Like it was inevitable. You couldn’t of been more lost right now, but if he knew, if he could guide you, you’d be okay.

“That alright?” He whispers lowly, dipping his head to catch your eyes.

“Course. Yeah. Yeah— I want…” You swallow hard. Fear and insecurity creep up your throat and tighten it. “I want you. Really bad.”

It takes him a second, and then he grins. “I know, love. Can feel ya on me—“

“Not like— not just like that.” His head tilts, smiling incredulously at you, but he must be able to tell. You can’t say what you’re feeling right now, but what you were doing was enough. Extending an olive branch, and he was going to fucking snatch it out of your hands and consume every inch.

“You’re so sweet. I want ya too, okay? Don’t look so fuckin’ nervous.”

“M’not nervous.” You mumble it. It could not be less convincing. He was still smiling. “Stop looking at me like that and I won’t be.”

“Like what?” He’s got a dopey, lazy look on him, so you shift your hips, and his confidence shakes as you drag your clit across the sensitive head of his leaking cock. “Shit—“

“You okay, Johnny?” You whisper and he nods furiously. He’s the one squeezing his eyes shut now, and you kiss the crease in his forhead before you raise your hips and start to sink down on him, keening at the catch of his head at your entrance. “Oh, god—“

It feels right. Whatever the fuck you two were doing before— it wasn’t as good as this. The whispers of each others names, the feeling of heat splitting it’s way up your spine, how he holds you so close you think you might explode under the pressure. This was the right way to do it.

“Fuck. Fuckin— slow, baby. I’m gonna fuckin’ finish if ya don’t go—“ He chokes out another harsh exhale, sounding winded. He’s holding your hips so hard he’ll leave bruises, and you moan at the thought of it. “Fucking tight as fuck.”

“Relax.” You coo in his ear, trying to distract the both of you from the stretch of him slowly filling you.

Even though he’s had you countless times, you still struggle to take him like this— and he clearly does too. It’s a favourite for both of you for this reason. You both crave the little bit of pain, something that reminds you where you are. What you’re doing. Mainly who you’re doing it with. It might have been subconscious before, but now… there’s nothing that could deny who was breaking you apart.

He says your name over and over as he starts fucking up into you, and you feel him so deep like this. He controls you easily, the muscles in his arms and chest straining with how hard every thrust of his hips snaps against yours. You nearly sob when he goes faster, familiar brutality mixed with the soft way he’s watching your eyes has your mind swimming in the pleasure he drives into you.

Your head falls back, and he wraps an arm around your lower back, holding you to him. Both of you grind into the way he has you, him still fucking you at a pace that practically strips you bare. You can’t hide anything from him here— not with your foreheads stuck together, bodies pressed in every way they can, Johnnys hands pawing at your ass, your tits, anything they can find that gets a new sound out of you.

“Feels so good.” You sigh, your entire body at his mercy as he slams himself up off the bed. It’s still slow, slow enough that he can keep your eyes locked on him, but fuck— he’s so hard with it, you know you’ll feel him for days. “So good. Fuck. More—“

“Shit, I know baby.” He kisses you, teeth clashing as you try to keep up with the way he moves. Your body melts when he kisses you, moulding against him and letting him use you.

You want him to use you. You want him to take all the things you know he wants, but you’re too scared to admit you can give to him. Nothing about the life you live is safe, or guaranteed, but whatever you have here is grounding, and it’s enough. More than enough— but you just can’t say it.

You roll your hips again, and you hear his low moans turn breathy and soft. He’s close. You can feel it. He’s been worked up all day because of you, and you don’t want him to wait again. You want him to take it.

“Fuck, baby I’m gonna—“

“I know. Keep going, wanna feel it.” You nearly sob, and Soap looks at your broken features and kisses them away.

Your world rotates as he flips you on your back, your hands pulled from his hair as his rough fingertips hold your wrists down. He pins them above your head, sounds spilling from him that have sparks flying in your chest. That’s the thing that makes this so fucking different. It’s not even the sounds— it’s who’s making them. Who’s doing it to you.

It’s him.

It’s all about him.

He spreads you wide, his free hand grabbing your calf and pushing it down so he can fuck you deeper. He looms over you, holding you down with his body weight, and the last thing you see is his head turn, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, and then he says your name as you fall into bliss.

Everything locks and releases in tandem, your body somehow tight and loose at the same time. You arch off the bed, Soaps arms wrapping you close as you feel warmth spread across your stomach. His breath is hot as he rides out his high, head tucked into your neck, and he grounds you as pleasure seeks its way through the cloud of your brain.

“T’s too good. You’re fuckin— shit. Shit, baby.” He talks through it, knowing you love the sound of his voice, and he doesn’t even need to touch you to help you ride it out. Waves of searing bliss drown you in the feeling he’s giving you, and when he finally starts to slow, you just say his name again, hearing him echo it back to you. “Yeah. That’s fuckin’ right. Me.”

After a while, things get a little less fuzzy, and you can feel his hand leave your wrists. Your hands come down on their own volition, threading through his hair. You feel his head tilt a little, leaning into the soft touch of your hand, so you keep going, letting your fingertips dance along his scalp. It’s doing the same thing for you that it is for him— giving you something to focus on while your heart slows.

His hair is unfairly soft. It should be straw dry and breaking off with the shitty 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner and body wash he uses. You tried it once, and it made your pony tail move in one direction for a week. But his is like… feather soft. So easy to comb through, you could spend hours like this.

“I like that.” He says after a while. He’s not pinning you anymore, half moved to the side with an arm and a leg thrown over you. His head was still hidden, buried so close that when he talks, his lips brush against your collarbone.

“How is your hair so soft?” You mumble, more to yourself, your hands no longer shaking from adrenaline and pleasure. “Not fair.”

“Natural beauty n’ all.” He says, and you can feel the dumb smirk he has on his face. You twirl your fingers in his hair and pull lightly, and he fakes a yelp. “Owwww.”

“Such a drama queen.” You roll your eyes, and he groans emphatically as he hauls himself up and over to hang above you. His eyebrows are raised, and he’s smiling.

Maybe his smile isn’t so dumb.

“We’re gonna be in shit for missin’ that meeting, you know.” He says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hope you got a good excuse.”

“I don’t even care.” You sigh, a little delirious in the come down from such a high. He laughs, all bright and happy, and you smile back at him. “I’m just glad we’re… you know. Here.”

He stares at you for a second, for what feels like the millionth time today, but then he leans down and kisses you again. Even though it had happened so many times, you don’t think there’d be a time you’d get tired of it. Not the looks, not the kisses, or any of it. Even though everything was on the line, you’d give it all up, lose all the battles, if it meant this.

“Yeah. Me too.” He grins. Your heart skips.

His smile is definitely not dumb.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x y/n #soap x you #john mactavish x you #john mactavish x y/n #soap cod #soap smut #john soap mactavish smut #cod smut

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unholyjs · 14 days ago

Text

Bad Things ~ Oliver Queen x Reader

This is the prologue for a fic I'm writing on Wattpad, sharing it here because I'm kind of proud of the story.

"Ollie?" Your voice cracks as you look between him and the power-dampening cuffs on your wrists. "What are you doing?"

The shock doesn't come from being thrown into a cell. It comes from the icy glare in Oliver's eyes—the same eyes that once looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they hold a cold, unrecognizable look. You knew this moment would come eventually. You knew he'd find out about your double life, but even in your worst nightmares, it never felt like this.

"You've been working with us since the very beginning," Oliver growls, stepping back as the glass door slides shut, sealing you inside. "And all this time, you were playing us. Playing me."

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the sting of his words. It wasn't supposed to end like this. You joined Team Arrow as a means to an end, to gain his trust and operate under the nose of your biggest threat. You never intended to develop feelings. You never meant to fall in love.

"Well, you found me out," you say, lifting your bound hands to wipe away the tears you refuse to shed, "Congratulations, Oliver. It only took you six years to finally see what was right in front of you."

Oliver's jaw clenches, his hand forming a tight fist at his side, "You've killed innocent people, Y/N. This is where you belong."

You scoff, tilting your head with a bitter smile, "What do you think you know? You found out I'm Malevolent, but I bet you don't know half the people I've killed—or why."

"Then tell me!" Oliver slams his fist against the glass barrier. You flinch, flashes of your father's abuse overwhelming you. You force yourself to take a deep breath, pushing the fear back down.

To be honest, villainy might as well have been written across your forehead from the start. Your father beat you senseless before you were even old enough to understand what abuse was. Every small mistake became an excuse for his rage. Your mother wasn't any better—always drunk or high, barely aware she had a child.

You carried those scars for years, blaming yourself. Maybe if you hadn't touched this, or looked at that, your father would've left you alone. Maybe if you behaved better, your mother would have loved you.

But eventually, you convinced yourself that you deserved better. You left the torment behind and joined the Army as soon as you were legal, it was your first real break. You fell in love, got married, and had two beautiful children. For the first time in you whole life, you were happy. It was a kind of happiness you never even though existed growing up. But it didn't last. It never does.

"You wouldn't understand," you whisper, dropping your gaze. "You see everything in black and white, Oliver. I'm forced to live in the gray."

He steps closer, his expression torn between fury and something softer. "Then help me understand," he demands, his voice breaking for the first time. "Why did you do it? Why did you betray us?"

The question hits you hard, and suddenly the walls of the cell seem to fade away. Your mind drifts back to a moment you've tried so hard to bury—a moment that still haunts your every waking thought. The moment that's driven every waking moment and every decision you've made for the past few years.

You push open the front door of your home, smiling as you call out to your children. "Melody? Michael? I'm back!"

There's no response, normally the second you'd walk in the house you'd be greeted by their little footsteps pounding excitedly towards the door. They always knew when you were home. You suspiciously set your bag down and walk into the living room, expecting to find toys scattered across the floor and the sound of laughter echoing through the house.

Instead, it's silent. Eerily silent.

A chill runs down your spine, and the smile fades from your face, you pull your gun from it's holster at you side. "Melody?" you call again, your voice trembling slightly now. You step into the kitchen, and that's when you see it—the shattered glass on the floor, the overturned chairs.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you move down the hallway. It feels like your feet are made of lead, every step heavier than the last. You push open the door to the kids' room, and the sight before you rips the breath from your lungs.

Melody and Michael lie motionless on the floor, their innocent eyes frozen wide in terror. A single bullet wound pierces each of their small foreheads, their once-bright faces contorted in horror—the image sears into your mind, you know their expressions will haunt you forever. You drop to your knees, a choked scream tearing from your throat as you scoop up and cradle their lifeless bodies. "No, no, no..." you sob, rocking back and forth, pressing kisses to their cold foreheads, "My babies."

You can barely see through the tears as you stumble into the bedroom you once shared with your husband. The bed is soaked in blood, the sheets tangled around his lifeless form. His eyes are vacant, the same gentle eyes that once looked at you with love.

You collapse against the doorway, a guttural scream of agony ripping from your chest. Your entire world has shattered, and you know in that moment that nothing will ever be the same.

You don't know how long you sit there, but when you finally stand, your tears have dried. All that's left is a hollow emptiness inside you, a cold determination that replaces the grief.

You will find out who did this. And you will make them pay.

You're jolted back to the present, the cold walls of the cell pressing in around you. Oliver is still standing there, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for an answer.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die in your throat. He doesn't bother to repeat the question. Instead, he taps the computer screen, and you watch helplessly as the pipeline seals itself shut, cutting off your powers and any chance of escape—for now.

Oliver storms into the main room of STAR Labs, where the rest of the team waits in silence. The tension is palpable. He can feel their eyes on him, but he doesn't want to talk. Not now. Behind his stoic mask of indifference, he was hurting. His mind raced, searching for any plausible explanation that could clear your name and bring you back into his arms. There had to be a reason—he was sure of it.

He had worked with you for six years, memorized every quirk, every fear. He thought he knew you better than anyone, better than you knew yourself. And yet, in this moment, he realized he knew nothing about you at all.

He heads straight for the computer, typing furiously until your file appears on the screen. The national meta database is almost blank, save for a few vague details.

Name: Y/N Y/L/N Known Aliases: 'Y/N Vance,' 'Black Arrow,' 'Malevolent' Occupation: Unknown Status: Unknown Family: Unknown Abilities: Electricity, Telepathy, Teleportation, Regeneration DOB: Unknown

Oliver slams his fist down on the desk, his voice a broken whisper. "Why the hell does no one know anything about her?"

Barry steps forward, pulling nervously at his fingers. "Oliver, I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to talk to her. Not at her. You can't threaten her or berate her. You have to listen."

Oliver's hands tremble as he grips the edge of the desk. He's fighting to keep his emotions in check, but he knows Barry is right. Maybe if he had listened to you sooner, things wouldn't have turned out like this.

"Okay," he finally mutters, the word coming out strained.

The hiss of the pipeline door opening makes you jump to your feet. You're surprised to see Oliver standing there, still dressed in his leather costume, the hood pulled back to reveal his tired, conflicted expression.

"Who are you?" he asks, stepping closer to the glass, his voice barely above a whisper.

You meet his gaze head-on, forcing yourself to smile. "I'm Y/N. Or did you miss that?"

"Y/L/N or Vance?" he demands. "Because you told me your last name was Vance."

"I lied," you say flatly, dislocating your thumb to slip out of the cuffs. The pain barely registers anymore; you've trained yourself for this.

"What's your story?" Oliver's voice cracks slightly. "Your meta file doesn't list anything before six years ago. Why?"

"I erased it," you reply flatly, feeling the electricity crackling beneath your skin as your powers return. "You don't deserve to know, because then you'd understand. And I don't want your pity."

"Damn it, Y/N! Talk to me!" Oliver slams his hands against the glass. You flinch, and a bolt of electricity shoots from your fingertips. His eyes widen, landing on the limp cuffs dangling from your wrists.

Your eyes glow bright blue, and the electricity wraps around your arms like coiling serpents. Memories of your family flash through your mind, intensifying the charge. The glow brightens, and your hair lifts as lightning surges around your body, wild and untamed.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I served two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. I fell in love, got married, had twins—Melody and Michael." Tears well up as the electricity grows volatile. "They're all dead now."

You thrust your arms forward, shattering the cell. Glass and metal scatter like shrapnel, the blast sending Oliver flying across the room. You land gracefully, lightning still crackling around your arms. As you step onto the platform, Oliver rises, bow drawn and ready.

"Y/N, stand down!" he commands, just as Barry speeds in.

"How the hell..." Barry mutters, taking in the wreckage.

They knew you were powerful, but breaking out of the pipeline was supposed to be impossible.

"Move, Oliver," you growl, advancing. "I don't want to hurt you."

Barry lunges at you, but you sense his move before he makes it. You blast him with a bolt of lightning, sending him crashing down the hall.

"Y/N!" Oliver shouts, more urgently now. Your eyes narrow, glowing brighter.

"What's the plan, Oliver? Are you going to talk it out with me, babe?" You mockingly pout, and he pulls the bowstring back even tighter.

"I'm not saying it again," he warns, aiming straight at your chest.

"Good, neither am I." You lunge forward, snatching the bow from his grip and hurling it across the room.

He grabs your arm, twisting it behind your back at an unnatural angle. You scream, but instead of yielding, you snap your own arm, freeing yourself from his hold. With your good hand, you throw a punch, but Oliver catches it, flipping you over his shoulder. You hit the ground hard, gasping as he looms over you.

"I told you to stand down, Y/N."

You laugh through the pain, eyes glowing once more. You hurl him across the room with a surge of electricity. "And I told you to move."

As Oliver collapses, you take a moment to catch your breath. Then, you walk over and use your good arm to grip him tight, dragging his limp body across the debris. With a practiced gentleness, you prop him up against the wall, adjusting his head so it rests back comfortably.

You kneel down, brushing his hair away from his forehead. For a moment, you let your fingers linger, tracing the familiar lines of his face.

"It's for the greater good," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, "I still have a mission to finish."

#oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #imagine #oliver queen x reader #readerinsert #arrow x reader #arrowverse #bad things #green arrow x reader #angst #action #suspense #x reader #team arrow x reader #team arrow

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black-is-iconic · 5 months ago

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Sweet Sweet Apathy

"Are you going to save my brother?" Those words gave you pause and made your stomach twist uncomfortably. "Um" you muttered scratching your cheek as you gaze down at the boys heterochromia eyes, "I'll certainly try" the words felt….wrong on your tongue.

You always tried to stray away from saying something along the lines of, yeah I'll save them guaranteed don't worry because that's not always the case.

There's been at least five people, so lost and twisted in their own minds that your words weren't able to pierce the protective barrier they built up, and as a result….they died….and the families were left grieving and heartbroken.

But the media never put a spotlight on that, no doctor miracle or whatever they call you's fuck ups are always carefully hidden under wraps and swept under the rug.

"You seem tense" Ms. Rei Himura spoke softly brown eyes gazing at you so gently yet her smile was strained with worry.

"I know I should be used to it, but the weight of someone's life in my hands always just" the words die on your tongue as a cold chill slips down your spine and you gaze off into nothingness with a pensive stare. "…makes things harder"

Ms. Himura says softly her voice full of sympathy, "but you will bring him back to us, right? You're Doctor Divine saving people on death row is like your whole stick" one of her children…Fuyumi asked hands balled into tightly clenched fist.

"I know he was a criminal" she spoke rubbing her arm anxiously, "a-a pretty bad one….but he just got mixed in with the wrong crowd…..that's all…..somewhere under all that loathing and hurt….is Toya" her voice cracked under the weight of her tears as she gently clung to the coat of your jacket

. "S-So please save him" she asked staring up at you expectantly. The tears spilling down her precious pale cheeks plucked at the strings of your heart, your anxiety sky rocketed and your hands trembled in your pockets.

They all looked at you with hopeful gazes, and it hurt that you couldn't give them a clear concrete answer, "you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink, I can only fix what he allows me to" you whispered grimly but truthfully.

Eyes downcast so you wouldn't have to see their faces, "but I'll certainly try" said hopefully with a little more conviction.

"I will try my hardest to bring your brother back, but nothings guaranteed" the Todorki family looked a bit glum but Rei smiled exhaling deeply "yeah that's fair".

With the more pressing matters out of the way you let out a deep breath of relief as Enji Todorki drove you to where you'd be living for the next two years where you would try and fix the damage he caused, the drive was silent.

Not a word spoken, only thick silence filled the air, and the only thing filling your ears was the heavy hum of the car engine, the screech of wheels against the pavement, and the sound of your own breathing. As the car slowed, stopping in front of a lavish condo complex you swallowed nervously again.

Somehow word got out about that the famous Doctor Divine would be making an appearance, and so the side walk was flooded with people clamoring against each other to get a glance at you or maybe even a chance to speak with you, flashes from cameras overwhelmed you and you slunk deeper into your seat.

As the door was opened by an attendant the light came poor in and the sound of a thousand voices morphed into one loud cacophony. It was impossible to tell who the voice belonged to, and it made it hard to focus with so much noise competing for your attention.

Your eyes stayed glue to the floor as you walked towards the condo, trying to tune out all the citizens calling for you, as you reached the condo you breathe a sigh of relief as the noise became muffled behind closed doors.

Resting your hand on your chest, you took in your surroundings. The lobby was lavish, a modern sleek look with rich black carpet, and large mahogany desk set, white walls, and glass windows that overlooked Musutafu.

A gentle touch to your shoulder spooked you from your thoughts, your hands instantly latching onto the wrist person who startled you and glared at the perpetrator. "Sorry Doc" a charming voice chimed in and your eyes squinted, a handsome young man stood before you grinning widely.

"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself" you murmur before letting his wrist go, "sorry sorry I just wanted to introduce myself, you can call me Hawks"

His eyes like golden embers stared deep into your irises and you averted your gaze "and why are you here hawks" you asked skeptically readjusting your coat the man smirked down at you "well I'm going to be your body guard for the next two years - starting now" he said with a cheerful smile.

You sighed heavily at the thought of being tailed for two years but you simply nodded "okay" you said smacking your lips and turning to reach for your things, "oh no let me" Hawks said snatching all of your bags and walking towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" You asked confused throwing a thumb at the clearly empty and available elevator Hawks simply smiled and shrugged "oh you're staying in the pent house, and the elevators slow give me a sec and I'll be back for you gorgeous",

He clucked his tongue and winked at you before flying off you huffed already exasperated.

Deciding to take the elevator, you walked inside through the glass doors and pressed the p button as the elevator slowly ascended you pulled out your phone scrolling through text tomorrowwould be a day

#black reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader

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in-hav3n · 1 year ago

Note

For the past couple hours I’ve had this idea in my head. I was at a store and almost passed out cause I haven’t eaten and my iron was incredibly low. I’ve been thinking about James having a girlfriend with a similar condition and it’s gotten to the point that he’s always carrying around chips, skittles, or whatever cause he can just tell when she hasn’t eaten enough and is struggling. Like when he’s performing and his girl is watching from the side of the stage, facing and singing along until she gets to the point she’s about to pass out. Just the idea of James announcing a quick intermission so he can go get her food abs make sure she’s ok. Oddly enough, that happening to me got that idea in my head lol.

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

"Paris, are you having fun tonight?!", James shouted in his mic after he had grabbed one of his favorite guitar from his guitar tech, ready to perform the next song. The audience instantly reacted with screams and shouts for their favorite band. James smiled and looked at his bandmates who encouraged the public to shout louder.

In the front, between the barrier and the stage, you were screaming as well, encouraging your boyfriend and the band. James caught you and winked at you, plugging his guitar, ready to start "Creeping death" and you gave him a big smile and a little wave back.

You weren't usually coming on tour but you accepted his ask to come for a couple of shows in Europe. You were there to enjoy the music but mainly to support your boyfriend and the guys who became real friends to you. Since tonight show was in a festival, James proposed you to enjoy the show from the floor instead of following it from the backstage area. And you regretted nothing! The atmosphere was far more interesting and thrilling than in the backstage where you would have been on your own.

The first notes started and you couldn't resist to sing loud, dance and head bang hard with the fans who knew who you were. It was absolutely magical until you started to feel some sensations. You stopped moving for a short time, analyzing what was going on but when the sensation disappeared, you enjoyed the song like a true metalhead.

But in the middle of the song, while you were shouting "die" with your body and soul, the sensation came back but stronger this time. You stopped moving and remained calm, hoping it would disappeared like it did earlier. It didn't work though and you started to feel weak, your legs becoming like jelly and some tingling in your hands. You blinked a few times, your heartbeat increasing a bit and you searched for any kind of support. But nothing went as you had planned...

Up on the stage, James couldn't see what was happening cause he was on the other side. It's Kirk who noticed first your strange behavior and searched to make eye contact with his friend. Sadly James was deep inside the song, playing with the fans on the right side and he wasn't paying attention to the rest. He decided to walk over him and when the frontman finally looked into his eyes, Kirk made a quick head gesture to show him where to look at.

James frowned and looked down to see you struggling to stand. He gasped off surprise and suddenly stopped playing. Lars and Rob looked at him, surprised and even pissed off. They didn't plan a break now! But Kirk mouthed to them your name and it was enough to worry them.

James walked fast over the mic as he pulled off his guitar. "We ehm...we're going to make a little break", he announced as he quickly jumped off of stage, walking over you. The staff and the front row fans looked at him with a curious glance, wondering what he was about to do.

"James...", you whispered when you saw him coming over, struggling to reach the barrier behind you. Some nice fans tried to help you but sadly they were too far from where you were standing. You had the time to feel his big hands around your waist when...

"I got you", he whispered as he caught you up, the precise moment when you were falling over. "Baby...stay with me...stay with me", he gently tapped your cheek to keep you awake, noticing you were absolutely pale. He angrily looked at the guards who didn't react earlier, but didn't want to waste time now. He could do that later. You were his priority.

James picked you up by your legs and lifted you in his arms to carry you bridal style over the backstage area. He knew what you needed. It wasn't happening for the first time.

He heard Lars speaking into the mic to the audience but he didn't pay attention to what he was saying. He was more focused to reach his room as fast as he can to give you something to eat.

"There you go", he gently said as he lay you down on one of the instrument's boxes. He placed your head carefully on it and searched for someone.

"Watch on her please!". The staff member quickly nodded as he understood he had to do what James Hetfield told him to do. James disappeared in his private room and came back right after with a big chips pack, ripping it almost to open it.

"Go find some Cola please and came back here as fast as you can", he said to the same guy who nodded again in a hurry before he ran away in another direction.

"James ?", you whispered, searching for him as you felt his presence next to you. You rolled your head to finally look at him. He was smiling with his big stature, holding your hand.

"I'm here", James took a chips in his hand and guided it over your lips. "You need to eat something baby. Open your mouth".

You obeyed and chewed when you felt the food in your mouth. You realized then what happened and you hid your face in your hands, groaning with shame.

"Don't tell me it happened again please...", you sighed of shame, mumbling in your hands.

"You frightened us all!", he chuckled softly, giving you more chips to eat.

"I'm so sorry James...gosh. How could I be so stupid...".

"Hey it's okay, I know it could happen. That's why I asked you to be in the front. So I could have an eye on you", he winked as he grabbed the Cola given by the staff member who was happy to help. James thanked him as he went away, going back to his task.

"You silly!", you answered with a slight chuckle, as you slowly turned on your side to sit down. When you felt a bit better, you managed to sit normally. James handed you the Cola can then and you took it to take a sip.

"Are you going to be okay?", he asked as he pushed his body closer, locking you with his two arms and hands placed on the box on each side of you.

You nodded as you gulped a big sip of soda. "I will. Thank you my guardian angel", you smiled at him as he moved to peck you lovingly, tasting the salt on your lips.

"I want you to stay here for the last part of the show okay? You'll be safe here". You nodded, as you grabbed more chips to eat.

"I'll be careful. I promise", you assured him and he gave you another peck, a bit longer this time. "Go metal up some asses rockstar!", you whispered against his lips with a giggle.

He answered with a knowing glance and kissed you one last time before he grabbed his guitar to go back on stage, knowing you were safe now...

A/N : Aaah this is so sweet and don't know why but I picture very well Death Magnetic James being such a cutie for his girl. Hope you like it sweet anon!

#james hetfield #james hetfield fiction #james hetfield x reader #death magnetic era #aaah he's such a cutie #he would have done that im sure #r16 #request #thank you anon #hope you like it !

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hintsofhoney · 1 year ago

Text

A Deal's a Deal

Pairing(s): Harvey Dent x F!Reader x Soldier Boy

Summary: Your boss, Harvey, agrees to share you with Soldier Boy in return for some intel on Homelander, but only if he can join in on the fun, too.

Square(s) Filled: boss/employee for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, smutty smut smut, oral sex (male receiving), dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, threesome, dregradation, light slapping, light choking, p in v, unprotected rough sex (be smart), this is really raunchy lmfao

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I think I wrote this before Gotham Knights even aired and it's been sitting in my WIPs folder ever since. As always thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing this raunchiness. GIF is mine. Hope you all enjoy the depravities of my brain!

You can also read me on Ao3!

MAIN MASTERLIST

When you took the job as Harvey Dent’s secretary, you didn’t know you’d be spending most of your time on your knees. Hard worker, quick learner, able to follow instruction: these were the qualities listed under the job’s ideal candidate section — you just didn’t know you’d be using them like this . Not that you were complaining. Not in the slightest.

You knock on Harvey’s office door — he had just called you in over the intercom which usually meant all work and no play. He’d call your desk phone directly if he had any… special requests.

“Come in,” you hear from the other side of the barrier, and you push it open, quickly closing it behind you as you come to stand in front of his desk. You adjust your pencil skirt, pulling it down slightly — a nervous tick you think you developed from being in his dominating presence.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Y/N, I need you to come meet someone with me. Record the meeting, take some notes,” he explains, looking up at you expectantly with those icy blues.

You nod. “Got it, Sir.”

“Good.” The absence of the word “girl” disappoints you a little, but you don’t let it show. “Get your coat. We’re leaving now.”

Harvey hasn’t told you where you’re going or who you’re meeting, but you assume it’s someone important when you reach the fancy apartment complex. Taking the elevator up to the 8th floor, you trail behind him as he finds door 12B and knocks lightly with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

“Ben!? Open up. It’s Dent.”

You don’t know who Ben is until the door opens slowly, and the face on the other side is plastered on every wall, bus, and sign in the city. Ben is the once celebrated superhero, Soldier Boy.

He pokes his head out into the hallway, looking both ways (and doing a very obvious double take on you) before stepping aside and letting you and Harvey in. You don’t know what your boss could possibly need with a supe, let alone a not very well liked one, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you stand in his presence. It’s true what they say — he’s even more beautiful in person.

“This is my secretary, Y/N,” Harvey says, throwing a quick nod in your direction to introduce you.

Soldier Boy holds out his hand. “Ben,” he says with a smirk.

“Pleasure,” you reply, enamored.

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart.”

Your thighs clench together at that.

“She’s here to take some notes,” Harvey interrupts, stepping in between the two of you, forcing your hands apart. He turns his head to glare at you. “And that’s all she’s here for.”

You try not to cower underneath his stare. “Right. Sorry, Sir.”

You begin to pull out a pen and notepad from your purse, ignoring the laugh that Soldier Boy huffs through his nose.

“Something funny, Ben?” Harvey asks.

“Just seems like you got a well trained pet there, is all. Bet she feels even better than she looks.”

Harvey chuckles softly, inviting himself to some whiskey on the liquor cart nearby. “That she does.” He shoots a quick wink your way, and your cheeks heat up as you watch him pour himself a glass. “Now, are you going to tell me what you know about Homelander, or did I waste my time coming here?” he asks the supe, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Tell you what,” Soldier Boy says with a smirk, his eyes raking over your body, “You let me have her and I’ll tell you whatever it is you wanna know.”

Your boss looks over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised in a way that always makes your knees buckle.

“You want my assistant?” he asks, his eyes still on you.

“I want to fuck your assistant,” Soldier Boy corrects. “And then I’ll help you.”

Harvey chuckles, low and deep, turning his head to face the supe again. “Fine. But I don’t share if I can’t join in on the fun.”

“Can’t blame you there, Dent.” Soldier Boy makes his way over to the sofa behind you, and you stare at your boss, awaiting further instructions.

“Why are you still standing?” he asks, with a tone that makes you feel like the stupidest girl on the planet. You place your purse on the nearby coffee table before dropping to your knees like he’s trained you to do, head bowed and hands behind your back. “Sorry, Sir.” You hear Soldier Boy huff a laugh behind you; you know he’s finding your blind obedience both amusing and impressive – and that gives you a sense of pride that shows itself in your reddening cheeks.

“Now, Ben here is gonna use you however he sees fit,” Harvey explains, pulling down on your hair forcefully, making your eyes meet with his, “and I expect you to show him the same respect that you show me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Go ahead, crawl over there,” he instructs, nodding towards the couch where Soldier Boy was sitting, legs spread and cock hard underneath his sweats. You obey, Harvey walking slowly behind you, watching your ass as you crawl, the dark spot on your gray pencil skirt making his own dick twitch. “Stop,” he commands, and you freeze in your tracks, only a foot away from your destination. “Pull your skirt up.”

You sit up briefly to pull your skirt up over your hips, revealing to Soldier Boy that you have nothing on underneath it. Harvey already knows this of course — he’s the one who made the rule.

“Christ, Dent,” Soldier Boy exclaims as you finish your crawl. You stop right in front of the tent in his pants, your knees grateful for the carpeted floor. He leans over you and grabs your ass in both hands, pulling your cheeks apart before letting them go and watching them bounce back together. “She’s fucking perfect.”

Harvey chuckles softly. “When she wants to be.”

Soldier Boy sits back, his green eyes lust-filled and hungry as he takes his cock out from beneath his gray sweats. He’s big, about Harvey’s size, and you’re confident in your abilities thanks to the number of times you’ve sucked your boss off underneath his desk.

“Manners, Y/N,” Harvey reminds you. “Next time you won’t get a reminder.”

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and Soldier Boy huffs another half impressed, half amused laugh as he wraps his hand in your hair. “Fucking hell.”

He pulls you towards his dick, and you use your hands to catch yourself in an all fours position as your tongue meets with his tip. You let the supe use your mouth like it’s a fuck toy, your head bobbing up and down, gurgling noises filling the room as his cock hits the back of your throat, your spit soaking his shaft. It’s only when he pushes your head all the way down, your nose meeting with the tuft of hair above his dick, that you feel Harvey’s presence behind you. The familiar feeling of his cock running through your folds causes you to moan around Soldier Boy, which in turn makes his dick twitch in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he gasps, letting his head fall back.

Harvey chuckles softly, entering you slowly and causing you to moan once more. “If you think that feels good, wait ‘til she comes. Hold her there.”

Soldier Boy nods, readjusting his grip in your hair, and you’ve never been more thankful for Harvey training you out of your gag reflex. With Soldier Boy’s cock stuffed in your mouth, you’re able to focus entirely on your boss’s thrusts and the coil slowly tightening in your abdomen. You can feel your juices running down your inner thighs, and when Harvey reaches around to rub your clit in tandem with his thrusting, you’re on the edge in seconds.

He uses his free hand to land a firm smack on your ass, and your squeal is muffled by the cock in your mouth. “Cum,” he commands, and that’s all you need to push you over, moaning around Soldier Boy as your pussy clenches around Harvey.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Soldier Boy breathes, watching you as you convulse beneath him, keeping your head firmly in position. Harvey hums in agreement, fucking you through your high until your body relaxes again. Soldier Boy starts bobbing your head on his cock again, much slower this time, and you're grateful for the air filling your nostrils once more. “Whenever you’re done, Dent,” Soldier Boy pipes up. “I said I want to fuck her. And I didn’t mean her mouth.”

You hear Harvey huff through his nose, and you can’t help but feel like he’s almost annoyed over the thought of actually sharing your cunt, but in Soldier Boy’s defense, a deal is a deal. You whimper as he slips out of you, and Soldier Boy swiftly pulls you off of his cock.

“On the couch, on your back. Hang your head off the end there,” Harvey orders, nodding towards the end of the sofa with no armrest. You do as you’re told, lying down on the couch with your legs spread for Soldier Boy and your head hanging off the edge with your mouth open for your boss. “Gooood girl,” Harvey praises, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing at his words. With your eyes focused on your boss, you don’t notice Soldier Boy reaching for your blouse, ripping it open without a second thought and sending buttons flying everywhere. You whimper at the sheer force, but it’s quickly silenced by Harvey’s cock in your mouth. Soldier Boy pulls the cups of your bra down, your breasts spilling out of their confines causing him to groan.

“Jesus, where’d you find her, Dent? Fuckin’ perfect slut.”

The comment goes straight to your core, and you’re eager to be filled from both ends again.

“You grab her right here,” Harvey starts, his hand gently wrapping around your throat, “and you can feel how deep she’s taking me.”

“Fuck,” Soldier Boy breathes, replacing Harvey’s hand with his own, his grip slightly firmer. Harvey busies his own hands with your exposed breasts, and Soldier Boy drags his cock through your soaked folds before entering you in one quick thrust. You choke on Harvey’s dick at the abrupt action, causing him to twitch inside you. “Jesus, she does feel even better than she looks,” Soldier Boy remarks, his hips picking up the pace as he begins to pound into you. With every thrust, it sends Harvey’s cock to the back of your throat, and you can feel the pressure of Soldier Boy’s palm on your neck as he feels how deep you can take it.

You’re not sure how long you’re being used from both ends, but you’re enjoying every second of it. With the two men alternating their thrusts, you’re never empty, and you can’t think of the last time you’ve been fucked this dumb. You notice the heat rising in your core again, but you know you can only come with Harvey’s permission. He likes it when you let go on his command. Your pussy clenches around Soldier Boy’s cock in warning.

“Fuck, Dent, I think she’s about to —”

A firm slap gets delivered to your cheek, and you moan around the dick in your mouth.

“She comes when I tell her to,” Harvey says, his voice deep and commanding. “And only when I tell her to.”

“I don’t give a fuck how she comes, as long as it ain’t before me.”

“Oh, it won’t be. She knows better, don’t you, Y/N?”

You nod to the best of your ability before feeling Soldier Boy’s cock twitch inside you. He’s close. He speeds up his thrusts, and they turn from rhythmic to sloppy as he chases his high. It’s getting harder to hold back your own orgasm, but you know better than to test your boss.

“Oh, fuck,” Soldier Boy gasps, and then you feel him filling you up as a sharp smack comes down on your breast with the command that you’ve been waiting for.

“Cum. Now,” Harvey orders, and you're convulsing underneath him once again. Your release seems to trigger his, and before you can come down from your high, you're being filled from both ends. “Good girl,” Harvey praises. “Such a good plaything, aren’t you?” He pulls out of your mouth and looks down at your drool, cum, and tear-streaked face, his blue eyes meeting with yours. You nod in response to his question, breathing heavily as you fill your lungs with air again. You whimper as Soldier Boy pulls out next, leaving you feeling both unbearably empty and incredibly satisfied. You lay on the couch, unmoving, as you watch both men get presentable again, and you suddenly feel very exposed when you realize what you must look like compared to them.

“Bring her to every meeting and you just might get the answers you want,” Soldier Boy comments with a smirk, taking in your abused pussy, his cum dripping from your hole.

Harvey chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind. Y/N!” he snaps, and you look over to him. He’s got a pen and legal pad in his hand — ones that he pulled out of your purse. “Kneel. On the floor.”

You roll off the couch and drop to your knees as Harvey hands you the stationary and takes a seat where you had just been laying.

“You’ll take your notes on your knees,” he explains, staring down at you before leaning forward and curling his forefinger underneath your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And if you do a good job, you might just get to come again.”

#harvey dent fanfic #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy smut #the boys fanfiction #gotham knights fanfiction

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artiststarme · 2 years ago

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Staying Alive, Staying Alive

I was feeling a little angsty today and now here we are. I hope you guys like this and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Title brought to you by @lumoschild!

~*~*~*~

Steve’s stomach dropped when he heard Dustin’s screaming from the trailer park. He and the girls were only about halfway back in their trek when they started hearing his cries which caused Steve to sprint in his direction. Why was Dustin screaming and where was Eddie? They were supposed to be out of danger. They were the goddamn decoys and Steve told them not to be heroes!

The sight he stumbled on when he broke through the barrier of the trees would forever haunt him. Just past the rows of trailer homes, Dustin was knelt on bloodied knees, sobbing, with an unmoving Eddie situated half on his lap. The two of them were sitting in a pond of blood that was growing ever larger. Steve had never seen Munson so still, he was always flamboyant and larger than life in everything he did. His face, usually so expressive and full of life, had never been so pale either, only made worse with the sluggishly bleeding wounds still leaking from his neck and torso.

“Dustin!” Steve screamed for him as he ran closer and fell to his knees beside him in a careless slump. “What happened? When’d he stop breathing?”

“I-I don’t know, just before you got here, I guess. He-he saved me. He didn’t run away this time, Steve.” He grabbed onto Eddie’s shoulders even stronger in a desperate hug while tears ran down his cheeks.

“Okay, I know he didn’t. Munson’s a strong guy and he still has fight left. I need you to put him down so I can bring him back, okay?” Steve muttered soothingly. If Eddie had just lost his pulse a few minutes ago, there was still a chance that he could get his heart beating again.

“What? Steve-”

“Put him down, Dustin!” Steve would feel bad for yelling at him later but he had a very limited window for CPR to work and he didn’t have time for any more niceties.

Dustin flinched back as if struck and let go of Eddie abruptly. His face screwed up in a vicious sob when Steve started applying forceful compressions to his friend’s chest. “Steve, you’re hurting him!”

“He can’t feel pain if he’s dead, Dustin! If this works, he can complain about it later.” Steve struck Eddie’s chest over and over again to the beat of Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees like he was taught to as a swim instructor. He never could’ve imagined then that this is how he’d be using his skills.

Both Dustin and Steve winced when they heard Eddie’s ribs crack but Steve didn’t stop applying his full body weight into every push. Nancy and Robin showed up at some point between Steve giving compressions and breathing into Eddie’s mouth but he paid them no mind. In fact, he didn’t pay anything any mind until Eddie gasped for air on his own.

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled and tried to scramble away from Nancy’s arms that restrained him.

“Ouch,” Eddie whispered before his eyes slid shut once more.

“No, no, no. Munson, wake up. Keep your eyes open. We have to get out of here, c’mon. Robin, help me pick him up,” Steve ordered. She quickly stepped forward and helped situate Eddie bridal-style in his arms. With a few well-placed cloths to act as bandages, she patted Steve’s shoulder and he bolted towards the gate in the Munson trailer. The entire Upside Down started shaking and the ground started to fracture in a horrific version of ‘the-floor-is-lava’ game.

But Steve could only focus on holding pressure against a particularly deep wound on Eddie’s side and the soft breaths fanning his neck. One step in front of the other, he sprinted as fast as he could without jostling the injured man in his arms too much. His efforts proved fruitless if the muffled moans of pain into his ear indicated anything.

When he got to the trailer, Robin was right behind him. She threw the door open and pushed the small kitchen table underneath the quaking gate and threw herself through first, ungraceful and uncoordinated as it was, in order to catch Eddie when Steve pushed him through the portal. Which she did. By falling with him and kneeing him in the spine. Seeing them mostly safe, Steve carefully guided Dustin onto the table and threw the gate with his injured leg and then offered a hand to Nancy and gave her a gentle push.

As the gate started to close, he hardly had enough time to jump through the portal into the Rightside Up himself. He could feel the sizzling heat on his sides and burning on the outer parts of his leg until his back met a soft surface on the ground. He made it.

They didn’t have time to celebrate though because Dustin was crying in pain about his leg, Robin was rubbing her side in discomfort, and Eddie was still groaning and bleeding out onto his own stained mattress. Steve’s sides were screaming but he didn’t have time to acknowledge his own wounds until he was sure his friends would survive.

“Alright Nancy, where’s your car? We have to get to the hospital.” Steve asked her, easily falling into the position of leader once more.

“Um, it's right outside.” With a peek out the trailer’s window, Steve could definitely see that it was not.

“No it isn’t. Where’d you park it?”

“I swear,” Nancy promised. “I parked it right in front of the door. We’ll just have to call for an ambulance.”

Steve shook his head and ran a stressed hand through his hair. Eddie didn’t have time for an ambulance. With the earthquakes and the preexisting stigma around the people that lived at Forest Hills, an ambulance would take up to thirty minutes and he didn’t have that. Fuck, what were they going to do?!

He sent another glance out the window to see a small sedan parked outside the neighboring trailer. Bullseye.

“Okay, new plan. Eddie and I are going to hotwire that car and drive to the hospital. You guys are going to call an ambulance and meet us there.” He nodded to himself and went to pick up a blurry-eyed Eddie.

“Steve, we should stick together. It’s not smart to go off on our own,” Nancy expressed condescendingly.

“Well, no one’s ever mistaken me for being smart so I guess that’s par for the course. We’ll see you at the hospital.” Then they were off. Steve was once again carrying Eddie as gently as he could but this time Eddie’s eyes were open and searching.

“Who knew that Steve Harrington would be so adamant on keeping me alive?” He muttered.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Munson.”

“I’m bleeding all over you, surely we’re on a first name basis now. Right Steve?” His tone was pretty challenging for a guy that was dead less than five minutes ago.

“You can call me whatever you want, Eddie. Just keep your eyes open.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best. What’re you planning on doing? Lisa always leaves her car locked,” he said as soon as he saw the direction Steve was walking in.

Steve didn’t dignify his question with a response. He just grabbed the ax from its position secured on his back and swung the dull edge towards the driver’s side window, shattering it instantly.

“Holy shit,” Eddie murmured in amazement. Unknowingly to Steve, that was the exact moment that Eddie fell in love with him. He had risked his life to save him in the Upside Down and carried him bridal-style out of hell. Now he was committing crimes to keep him alive and looking hot while doing it. Eddie’s heart didn’t stand a chance.

Steve gently leaned Eddie against the car while he worked to get the driver’s side door open and then picked him up again to gently settle him in across the backseats. His movements caused Eddie to whimper in pain but they were so close, they couldn’t stop now.

“Okay Munson, focus. How do I hotwire this car?” Steve looked back at him and saw the seats quickly staining red. “Shit Eddie! Put pressure right there, we have to slow the bleeding. C’mon, how do I do this?

Eddie tried to press his bandana into his worst wound as he gave Steve directions. “Pull off the steering column and grab the wires. Did you get my pliers? You’ll need those to strip the coating.”

“Yep. Okay, I got the cover off and I see the wires. What next?”

“There-there should be… two wires. One red and one black. You have to s-strip them and tap them together until the ignition starts…”

His voice started to taper off towards the end of his explanation and he could hardly keep his eyes open anymore. Steve pulled the wires from the steering column and stripped them just as Eddie had in the RV. When he looked into the backseat, he did a double take. Eddie’s skin was even paler and clammier than it had been before. Most worryingly though, his eyes were glazed and his breathing was labored. Steve reached an arm back to shake at his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking die, Eddie! I didn’t carry you out of the goddamn Upside Down just for you to die in some stranger’s backseat.” He hissed in angered panic.

“Ooo kinky.” Eddie mumbled through chapped lips.

“Not kinky, dying is not kinky! Wake up, Eddie!”

Just then, the engine turned over and the ignition started. “Yes, yes! Eddie, hold on. I got the car to start. C’mon man, five minutes to the hospital. You’ve got this.”

“Okay…” Eddie whispered. Steve could hardly breathe as he sped down the roads and broke every traffic law. He didn’t care about the consequences of his actions as long as Eddie lived. He didn’t care about speeding tickets or jail time, he just needed his new friend to survive.

“Eddie, you doing okay?”

“I wouldn’t… characterize this as- as being… okay,” he answered between labored breaths.

“You’re doing great, man,” Steve told him. He looked back at him in the rearview and saw Eddie’s eyes looking back at him.

“Thanks for doing this, Stevie. You didn’t have to. You-you could’ve left me there-”

“Shut up, man. I wasn’t going to leave you after you risked your life to help us. You’re one of us now whether you like it or not.” Steve told him. He wasn’t going to stand for any self-deprecating comments after he’d almost died (did die for a few minutes) to save Dustin.

Eddie hummed before the car lapsed into silence for the next minute or so, only broken by the sounds of Eddie wheezing for air and Steve’s fingers shaking against the steering wheel. When they arrived at the hospital, Steve pulled right in front of the emergency room and screamed for help. Nurses, doctors, and assistants came rushing out to help him and they placed Eddie on the gurney.

His lips were red with blood and his face was ashen without it. But when Steve looked at him, he smiled wide. “I’ll see you later, Big Boy.”

Steve couldn’t even threaten the hospital staff to treat him well or tell them to ignore the rumors on TV (although he would find out later that Nancy and Robin did that well enough on their own). As soon as Eddie was wheeled out of sight, Steve collapsed from his own injuries.

Just a few days later, Steve woke up from sedation to find himself in a hospital bed with Eddie as a roommate. And if his heartbeat sped up on the monitor when Eddie smiled at him, well, that wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild

#Robin walks into their shared hospital room just a few days later to find them kissing in the same bed #They end up clearing Eddie's name by blaming Jason and pointing out that he had connections to all the victims #unlike Eddie #Dustin is really happy that they're friends now until he walks into their hospital room to see them making out #then he's not so happy (they're both his brothers so its basically incest)#Wayne finds out about Steve carrying Eddie to safety and decides that the kid was going to become a Munson one way or another #whether he married Eddie or got adopted by Wayne #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler

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wonderlandoffanfics · 9 months ago

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Manifest Fantasies – dat dress tho

Okay so I couldn't stop and there are two smutty follow ups to my first fic! I had to write about the outfits reader got....

part 1

Part 2

swimsuit addition

WC: 2451

CW: fem reader, MDNI, alcohol usage, drunk comfort, vaginal penetration, no protection mentioned, use of barrier power during sex, accidentally got a bit cute with this one (that was not the plan but here we are)

Reminder of the dress: A red dress; the top of it secured around your neck like a collar and has an open diamond shape down the front to show your cleavage. No sleeves, backless, and a high slit on the left leg as it drapes down to the floor but hugs your curves.

“I think we should stop there…” you hear Barto say, “We’ll chart course right away!” a crewmate chimes back and you hear his footsteps wander away. Unable to help yourself, you walk into the room and sidle yourself up to Barto, “Where to now, Captain?” You give him your best doe-eyed look as you feel him stiffen at your sudden appearance.

Knowing he’s been caught, he looks at the ceiling, “Y/n!” you can see him trying to think of how to evade your question, clearly it’s a secret for you to some degree. “We’re going to an island with a special event on it.” He says without looking at you in your eyes. “What do you mean? What kind of event, Barto?”

You can see the wheels turning, when he finally sighs and gives in to your questioning, “We’re going ta join a kind of fancy party, I suppose ya should know now anyway so ya can get ready – we’ll be docking in a few hours.” He says and kisses you on the cheek with a quick smirk. You immediately hug him and rush away to get dressed. You’ve been dying for a reason to wear that red dress he bought for you months ago and it seems he has been working towards giving you a place to use it. It brings you such joy to know how he spoils you.

Your hair is done, make-up done, dress on, and looking fire. You walk from the bathroom and into your bedroom to get your shoes and jewelry on when you hear a knock at the door. “Come in!” you shout, continuing your activities at your dresser. Barto comes in, dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, you’ve never seen him look so dapper; your mouth opens and you can’t stop staring at how handsome he looks before you.

“Barto…. You look so good,” you practically float over to him with hearts in your eyes and grab into his tie, pulling him down into a kiss, “I didn’t know you had this suit.” He’s red as you pull away to look at him more, and you realize he has something hidden behind his back, “what do you have?”

“One final surprise, close your eyes.” He says and you follow instructions. You feel him place something on your face, “okay, open.” He says and you look at him. He is wearing a mask that covers the top half of his face; it’s black with silver details and spiral horns coming up off the top edge. You turn to the small mirror on top of your dresser and look at your own face, adorned with a small red mask, also with silver details and jewels in the center, the sides flare out giving a featherlike feel.

“We’re going to a Masquerade in town that celebrates this islands history!” he exclaims. “Ah! This will be so fun!” you link arms with him as he leads you out towards the deck. The ship is already docked and the men whistle at you both as you are escorted away into a lively town, decorated with dynamic and colorful ornaments, garlands, balloons, etc.

Within the town itself, Barto had led you to the epicenter of the festivities, a large building filled to the brim with people; all dancing and drinking. You both join the fun, enjoying every bit of the entertainment and free flowing liquids. For hours it seems the party will never end and you feel yourself getting tired, and a bit too drunk.

Never having left your side, Barto notices you faltering and fading, “Want ta go somewhere more quiet for a while?” he asks and you nod, clearly very intoxicated. Without saying anything else, he picks you up, like he did when you agreed to join the crew and sits you on one of his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and burying your masked face against his shoulder. He takes you through the large building and locates an empty room upstairs. It’s small and filled with books, a desk, and a cozy sitting area with a chaise lounge.

He sets you gently down on the couch and goes back to lock the door, ensuring no one will bother you as you rest from the raucous events downstairs. “Ya okay, y/n?” you nod again at him, unable to form words. You were certainly drunk enough that you weren’t able to think properly, but not enough that you were sick… yet. You’ve had this feeling before, and just needed to lie back for a while as your body took over and processed everything you had slammed back. If you pushed too hard that would be the end of not feeling ill.

Barto took off your mask and stayed by you, holding your hand and checking in with you. After about 20 minutes or so, you think, you were able to sit up. Barto immediately held you and rubbed your bare back; you leaned on him, closed your eyes, and took deep breaths with the pace of his stroking, enjoying the calm and his hand on your skin. “You’re too good to me,” you mumble out to him, still sounding very tipsy, “taking me with you, showing me the best places, and putting up with me right now….I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such a good man….I love you so much, Barto….”

It doesn’t register with you what you’ve said but Barto is beyond aware of the confession that just drunkenly spilled from you. He feels his face heat up and cannot contain his smile, “I love you too, Y/n” he whispers back to you but recognizes you are now asleep in his arms.

---

It’s dark when you next open your eyes. There’s light coming from under a door and you start to recall where you are as you hear the masquerade still raging down below the floor. As your eyes adjust more to the dimly lit room you try to sit up but Barto’s arm is wrapped around you, holding you to his chest; you’re laying almost completely on top of him on the chaise lounge that he barely fits on.

You smile at him through the darkness and lie your head back down on him, listening to his heart beat and breathing. His hand begins to move up your back as he stirs beneath you, “Y/n?” he says softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get that drunk. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.” He pets your hair, “Not at all, love.” His last word hits your ear and shocks you upright. He still has his mask on but you can see his fanged smile and confident eyes looking at you.

It hits you, before you passed out you confessed to him. You hadn’t meant for that to slip out but you don’t regret the truth that the booze had pulled from you. He makes you feel so cared for, safe, and comfortable to be yourself. Every time you look at him your heart goes wild and since you became a couple you have wanted nothing more than to be at his side each day; exploring the world and experiencing life together. You do love him; every aspect of his silliness and strength, his crude humor and admiration of his heroes, any time he takes charge of the crew and when he relaxes in your arms at night. He was multitudes of depth you didn’t realize a person could be; you were attracted to his personality, his body, his mind, like a log pose to an island.

All the love in your person was overflowing; you wanted him closer, you always want him closer. You shift yourself up his body and glide your lips along his neck, leaving kisses every few centimeters until you reach his chin. You hover over his mouth for a split second before he takes you with passion. His embrace is gentle but strong, every bit of himself pouring into you, making your adoration for each other that much more apparent.

Your hands begin working to unbutton his vest and shirt, untucking the front from his pants and sliding your hand over his torso, tracing his abs and grabbing his pecs. His hands reach down to your thighs, squeezing and pulling you closer; one hand able to grip your bare skin thanks to the slit of the dress moves up to your ass and he lets out a hum when he realizes you choose not to wear underwear. You’re now more than aware of how hard he is beneath you, his pants struggling to keep him contained.

Within seconds you are lifted up, both off the couch as he carries you to the desk on the other side of the small room and sits you down on the edge of it. He moves the sides of your dress in between your boobs and gropes them, now free of what little material covered them to begin with. Moving down your body he bites and licks every bit of bare skin, your nipples, to your hips, he glides down onto his knees in front of you and looks into your eyes as he spreads your legs and opens the bottom of your dress, exposing you to the cool air in the room.

One hand on each knee, he moves them sensually up your inner thighs. He drags his lips along the same trail as his hands wrap underneath you, fingers reach around the top of your legs, controlling your position in front of him. He commences licking at your folds, with bold firm strokes of his tongue. You grab his mask and toss it to the side, reveling in being able to see his satisfied smirk against your pussy.

His tongue sinks into you and he rubs his nose and piercing to your clit, the contrast in warm skin and cold metal cause you to tremble, heat pooling in your core. He pulls noises from you that you didn’t know you could create. He brings his right hand back to your inner thigh and teases entry to you, dragging his tongue firmly out of you and up onto your clit, flicking the tip of it over you and swirling in circles before he sucks on it and gently nudges his teeth to it.

You’re breathing hard, whimpering his name, pulling his hair and losing yourself against his skilled mouth. He adds two fingers to the mix and you feel him go deep inside you, hitting your favorite spots like never before, your face telling him how close you are as he drives more moans and whines from you. With his fingers spreading inside you, he slips his tongue between them and laps at the essences spilling from you as you reach your peak, his thumb taking over on your bud to keep your stimulation riding in waves.

Your back hits the desk, unable to sit up anymore from his ruinous fervor. As you lie on the cool lacquered finish you hear his belt clicking and pants being unzipped, your eyes move to look at him, now standing between your legs, and leaning over you. He’s leaking precum that you can feel smear on your skin when his length drags along your lower stomach.

He gives you a taste of yourself with his mouth and forces his hands under you, lifting you back up towards him. You are at his mercy as he flips you around and presses your breasts against the smooth wood, lifting your dress and tucking the length under your hips giving you cushion from the harsh edges of the desk. The forceful nature he’s wielding is another new side to him, you can’t help but drip with arousal knowing he’s about to take you how he wants to.

His feet force yours to spread further apart and his hands rub the back of your thighs. With a covetous grumble he grips your hips firmly, thumbs on your ass pulling you open to be fully viewed from behind. He lines himself up with your needy hole, giving you just the tip of his large dick and leans back over you, pressing his chest to your back, slack tie tickling your spine. “You’re mine. Made just for me. Now and forever.” He purrs against your ear and your writhe under him, desperate for him to be fully inside you. “I’m yours.” You echo with a smoldering tone, “I love you.”

The outpouring of your confession hits him again; now much more aware it wasn’t just a slip of your drunken self. He ends the torment of being so close but so far from you and plunges himself deep within your heat. His unyielding lust for you brings tantalizing bliss to your face, your hands want to feel him but as you try to move he uses his barrier power to pin your wrists to the desk. He’s never used his power like this on you before and you find yourself throbbing and tightening at the feeling that he is in full control.

You scream his name as he ravenously pounds into you, completely and utterly at his disposal. “Fu…ck” you stammer, his hand using his power now keeping your lower back pressed down while the other twists around your hips to press his fingers to your clit. As he thrusts, his balls slap against you and his fingers, he uses the additional motion to work you into delirium.

“Close” he murmurs, barely audible to you. He adds a bit of pressure with his fingers, sending your body into an electric tension. You cum hard around him, sending him to his own paradise inside you, he twitches wildly as he releases everything he has into you.

His power no longer holds you down but his body does. He catches his breath on top of you, kissing your shoulders and upper back, entangling his fingers with yours over the back of your hands, “I love you too.” You smile at his words and let out a giggle of pure joy.

He pulls out of you and tugs his pants back up, getting dressed again while you try to stand up straight, leaning against the desk for support and tucking your breasts back into your dress. You turn and help him button his vest back up, loosely moving his tie back into place so he doesn’t look as disheveled as you both feel. “Let’s go home, Barto.” You say patting his chest once you’re satisfied with his suit. He grabs the masks and puts them on you both, leaning down and kissing you gently, “To home, my love.”

#x reader #mdni #bartolomeo #bartolomeo x reader #bartolomeo one piece #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo smut #wonderlandoffanfics

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ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year ago

Text

space cowboy (lt. jake “hangman” seresin)

a/n: i started this mini series almost a year ago and finally found the inspiration for it again. hope you enjoy!

summary: You know Jake wants the world. You also know there’s no space for you in his career.

inspired by kacey musgraves “space cowboy”

close as strangers / wherever you are / the way i used to / muscle memory

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: light angst, break-ups

word count: 725

You watch Jake watch the rain fall down the truck as you drive back to the home.

Neither of you have said all that much since climbing into the vehicle at the crowded airport. The hug he had given you hadn’t brought you the feelings of safety and comfort you had thought it would, only making the distance between the two of you feel wider than it ever had before.

The you that Jake had come home to was no longer the one that Jake had fallen in love with and the relationship he had come home to wasn’t the one he had left six months ago.

You knew when you had gotten involved with Jake that his career was the most important thing to him. You’d never ask him to sacrifice what he loved so much.

But you had severely underestimated your ability to handle the distance, the amount of time in between phone calls, the absence of his touch after a long day.

You knew that Jake had the whole world at his feet. You knew that the whole world was opened wide, just for him.

And loath as you are to admit it, you no longer felt like Jake’s bright future included you.

It wasn’t anything he had done, you just- you wanted more. You wanted to put roots down, build a family, have someone to come home to.

And Jake couldn’t do that for you.

Jake slips his boots off by the front door after entering the home, falling on to the couch. You bit your bottom lip as you follow him into the house, shutting the front door gently behind you.

You linger in the living room entrance, arms crossed as you watch Jake nervously.

You knew what you had to do but now that you were here, confronted with it, it all just felt so wrong. Like the best place for you was right there next to Jake, curled up in his arms as he settled back into his home.

His home.

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? His house, a place where you were only a guest. It would never be yours, ours.

“You wanna talk, sweetheart?” Jake asks quietly. He’s looking at you expectantly, like he knows what’s coming.

That look, combined with the nickname, pushes a sigh out of you and propels your feet forward. You don’t uncross your arms though, almost as if they can protect you and create a barrier between you and the man you love. “Jake...” You trail off, unsure of where to start.

He just got home and everything in you is screaming at you to not do this now, to give yourself just one more night with him.

You know how unfair that would be, to the both of you, to prolong the inevitable. Not when you’ve already made a decision.

“I can’t do this again.” You say, looking down at the floor, at the ceiling, at the couch, anywhere but those sea-glass eyes that once felt like home. “I can’t deal with you not coming home every night, not knowing if you’ll ever come again. I can’t handle the missing you. It’s- it’s too much.” You breathe out, finally chancing a glance at him.

All Jake does is shift on the couch, still watching you.

Your arms fall by your side in defeat as you look away again. “You want the whole damn world Jake. And I want it for you; I would never ask you to make room for me in all of it. I’m not going to tie you down here with me. ”

He sighs, finally looking away from you.

“It’s okay, cowboy. You can have your space and I can have mine.” You say sadly.

It’s quiet in the room for a moment, the words hanging heavy over you.

But you can’t deny that you feel freer than you have since Jake left, knowing that you’re doing what’s best for the both you. Jake can follow his heart, reaching for the stars in his career.

You can move on, find someone who can bring you what he couldn’t.

One day, you both will be all the better for this.

It’s what you tell yourself as Jake watches you leave from his front porch, the look of tired sadness in his eyes piercing at your soul.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic

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izpira-se-zlato · 10 months ago

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your Stožice Photo Dump photos have pictures from so many different angles and distances from the stage, did you move around so much somehow? 🤔

ahaha I wish -- I switched places with a friend after the shoving got too bad, but mostly the stage was just a pretty fun layout! We were on the left side of the cat walk if you looked at the stage (so "Kris's side"), and they came up the cat walk bit quite a lot, which enabled me to get different angles of them.

Since this got long -- and turned into something of another pic spam -- more under the cut :D

Here you can see the catwalk pretty well:

It was a really cool layout, imo, bc it made for quite a lot of "front row", and granted, I wasn't actually barrier, but second row (behind the person streaming for JO Subs, actually! So my view was really close to what "viewers at home" got).

... Still close enough to get caught in the Omamljeno Telo Shower 😂😂

And then, of course, I thought the crowd was pretty stunning, too, so this is me having turned around and photographed the crows "in front of" the cat walk ... tip. Or whatever it's called

Not included in the photodump (I think): the large LED screens they had so people further in the back could also see things. That was very helpful when Bojan lay down for Padam, because I'd suddenly lost track of him and the LED screens meant I could find him (and then zoom in on him, which is how I got the pic of him on the floor)

This is said view during Padam -- probably looks familiar from the first pic I posted, because Bojan lay down right where the catwalk grew out of the main stage (and from the pixellation, you can tell that I had to zoom to catch him bc he was kinda small from where we were standing)

But they were really great about moving around, and so they all kind of stopped in front of where we were standing? In the Bojan pic, you can see the camera mounted at the "tip" of the cat walk, and in the Kris with Jan and Nace (respectively) pics underneath, I was facing straight ahead. (The lying water bottle/cups are the same in all three pics)

And, as I said -- I was right behind JO Subs, which you can see in this pic :D (I'd say "you have to trust me it's indeed JO subs", but you can probably cross-reference this with the stream, I think it's floating around somewhere)

And finally, here's them on the "main stage" during Carpe Diem -- which probably shows why I only took very, very few pics of them on the main stage. They were just too tiny from our spot. But they did come to the front of the cat walk there, too, so I did get to see them up close once more.

And finally -- my friend was sitting in the bleachers, so I can even pinpoint exactly where I was standing (even though you should probably be able to triangulate my position from all the pics). I marked my position in blue in their pic (this pic actually is not by me)

God, Stožice was a blast -- if you made it to here, thank you so much for indulging with me in this trip down memory lane 😊

#stožice #joker out #my gig footage #god I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it #also I decided to answer this in good faith #even though looking at the ask again I am wondering if there's a vibe of “are you trying to pass others' pics off as your own”#I'm hoping I'm misreading that tho bc stealing others' pics is a scummy thing to do #there's a reason I mark pictures I took myself as “pics by me” or something similar when posting them on here #bc I don't want ppl to wonder where those pics are from #also thanks for giving me something to procrastinate my writing with 😂#asks answered #(godddd I want to GO BACK PLS. It was so good. It kickstarted meeting AMAZING friends. PLS)

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Devil Boy (Matt Murdock X Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Matt Murdock X Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Daredevil

Warnings: Violence, fighting, Reader is kind of flirty

NOTE: I know requester specified Male but upon checking to make sure I got pronouns right I realised I never actually use any so technically it’s gender neutral? I’m not gonna tag this fem reader tho

Request:Would you write Matt Murdoch x Male!Reader where they keep trying to distract eachother in easy fights?

Matt had managed to catch a short break atop a roof, leaning with his arms on the barrier, listening for the next sign of trouble in the area, over the general sound of people leaving bars and clubs, normal arguments that didn’t need intervention, and police sirens to issues already being dealt with. His senses had been so tuned that he easily heard the person who had jumped onto the same roof as him, walking over, picking up a bit of rubble as they moved, and he easily was able to reach back and catch it before it hit him in the back, and then he heard your laugh.

“Damn, maybe next time.” You joked, coming closer to him as he turned to acknowledge you. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, thought we could catch up.” You suggested.

“What about your side of town?” Matt questioned.

“Massive raid right in the centre of it- the place is swarming with cops so there’s silence on that side for tonight, which means more trouble in your territory.” You pointed out to him. The use of territories wasn’t really something that had been made on purpose- it just worked out that you tended to occupy and care for one section of Hell’s Kitchen and he looked after another section, with the other few vigilantes in their own little pockets, sometimes crossing over or passing through. For some of them, having someone else in ‘their’ turf was enough for a fight to break out, but for you and Matt, it was the opposite.

“In that case, thanks for the back up.” Matt thanked, turning back to look over the side, before he heard something in the distance. “Just in time it seems.”

“Lead the way.” You instructed, and you two quickly evacuated the roof, you not far behind Daredevil, and just five minutes later you two were in the midst of a fight with a small group who you’d caught in the midsts of trying to rob a store.

Matt was shoved against the counter of the shop, hearing the yelp of the poor teenage clerk behind it who was hiding in fear. Matt reacted quickly, kicking the man to create space, pushing him into an isle and into one of his friends. Meanwhile you were in the back of the tiny store, using a spinning display rack as a weapon. “Please try to not make a mess.” Matt called to you as he strode over to the man he’d shoved, ducking as the man swung before landing his own hits.

“Bit late- watch out for the magazines on the floor!” You called back, jabbing at one of the men in front of you, catching is jacket on one of the hooks pulling him closer to you before kicking him so hard it knocked him on the ground. Matt landed a final blow to his target, before he walked ahead to put his focus on the man you’d knocked down. “You got the money to pay for all this?”

“Not on me, no.” Matt answered. “Guess you’ll have to do some Community Service.” He suggested as he took a swing at the man in front of him.

“Me? We’re a team now, Devil boy, and this is your turf so it’s your duty.” You responded as you used the display rack to block a hit before it broke, and you tossed it to the side, now using your hands in the fight. “I think this should be my community service.”

Eventually you got the situation under control, the clerk called the cops, you tied the robbers up with some tape the clerk had behind the desk, and gave her what money you had on you as an apology for the distress and the mess, before you took off before the cops arrived, getting a good distance between you and the shop, stopping on the fire escape of a nightclub to catch your breath. “You alright?” Matt asked, leaning back on the steps he was sat on, looking behind him in your direction as you leant on the railings behind him.

“Yeah I’m good.” You answered, moving sluggishly to the few steps above him, and sitting down there, reaching out and tracing your fingers over the details of his mask. “How about you? It’s hard to see if you’re bleeding with that red suit of yours.”

“M’fine.” He answered, remaining still for you, being able to vaguely feel your touch underneath the mask, letting a silence fall over you both.

“Do you think it would have been cheaper for the store owner to get robbed rather than have us show up?” You asked, the question catching Matt off guard and laugh heartily.

“Well if you’re having a morals dilemma, know that when we protect a place like that, they don’t experience crime for a few weeks afterwards at least, and their business booms in that time because it’s deemed safe by the public, so the money gained will outweigh the damage.” Matt assured.

“What if someone uses this as a scam- pay criminals to rob his shop in monthly intervals so more people come in the cool down period?” You asked. Matt grinned at your questions. You always asked these questions, if anything to try and catch people off guard and make them stutter and think, purely to mess with them. He remembered when you pulled it on Castle and for 45 minutes Castle thought you were serious and had a genuine debate about your questions before Jones showed up and interrupted, making him realise you were just messing with him, and now whenever you tried to ask your questions, he’d simply tell you to shut up.

“I’ll keep an eye out for any shops doing that so we can take them down together.” He told you.

“Aw, thanks for including me. I’ll consider it a date.” You teased, your fingers tracing from his mask down to his face, twirling around his cheek bone, across his jaw, your finger tracing up his chin, tickling his lips before you booped him on the nose, which only made Matt smile more. “In the meantime, if you need any help, call me, and if I need back up, I’ll call you.”

“You going already?” Matt asked, not moving as you stood up, brushing yourself off.

“I’m afraid so, Matty. I’m pretty sure the police are gonna leave my section soon and crime is gonna go back up, so I wanna be there to make sure it’s alright.”

“I can come with you? Backup?” Matt offered, but the pat on his head told him it was a no.

“You’re adorable. I’ll see you around, Devil boy.” You told him, before jumping off the side of the fire escape, and running out of the alley. Matt remained sat on the steps with a content smile until he eventually heard someone calling for help.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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sucrosette · 1 year ago

Text

★— ⋆｡˚ [Pillows]

For Day 15 of Carry on Countdown 23, Familiar. @carryon-countdown

In which Simon is an actual half-dragon and he's found himself in a bit of a situation with a certain human mage. He's not exactly unhappy about it, somewhat surprisingly.

This part is rated T, mostly just for the language.

Part one (for Day 9) can be found [here]

⋆｡˚

“Perhaps you’re a dwarf,” Simon’s would be captor mused, flipping through a giant tome from his safe place out of Simon’s binding circle. A safe distance from all the nipping and biting and fire breathing that would have been happening if Simon could just bloody leave.

Simon circled anxiously in his circle, pacing along the edge of it once, then twice, and a third time before curling up on himself, blowing more smoke up at the studious mage out of his reach. His chin settled on his claws and he closed his eyes, determined that if the mage wasn’t going to pay attention to him, he may as well nap.

“You certainly don’t appear as a fairy dragon would have,” The mage kept talking as if Simon was listening at all, “Beyond just your size, your wings and scales are all wrong. Much too sleek and far too unkempt. A fairy dragon would never allow themself to become such a mess. Not to say you’re not a very handsome whatever kind of drake you are, but you’re certainly not the kind I was seeking.”

Simon cracked his eyes open just to shoot a glare at the pacing mage standing at the edge of the circle. He flicked his tongue to express his discontent at being called unkept. Not that his captor was wrong, but it was impolite to just call someone that before you even knew them.

“Not to mention the language barrier… I wonder where I went wrong with the summoning…”

Simon squawked up at Basil and that seemed to finally draw his attention. Sure, it hadn’t landed him a blanket and a pillow or anything like a proper nest, but it was something. He raised his head and flicked his tongue again, watching as the mage came to a halt in front of him.

“Wait,” The mage breathed, a hand running through his raven locks, “Can you understand me, then?”

Simon raised a wing as if to say, yes, of bloody course he could. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to do the trick.

“Oh, well maybe we can work something out after all,” The mage declared, “Let me explain what I’d been intending, and we can figure out where to go from there.”

Simon scrunched his nose up at the larger, his discontent clear.

“Okay, clearly I need to not parse my words. Let me start over.” Baz set his tome down on the floor, kneeling just on the other side of the circle.

“I go by Baz,” The mage started, “I’m looking for a familiar, and it’s all supposed to be entirely consensual, despite how it might seem from in there. If you weren’t able to consent to it in the first place, I was going to set you free. Further, if you didn’t want to abide to the contract, I’d set you free. I just need something to… mmn… essentially serve as a magickal conduit for me. Something that can channel and hold for me. Perhaps a sort of equilibrium in the matters of my work.”

Simon just gave the mage– Baz– a confused look.

“Right,” Baz laughed a little when he realized he’d been about to go into theory, “You don’t have to understand it, I suppose. It’s just when I need to do magick that’s bigger than me and my body alone can handle, a magickal assistant can take the impossible and make it possible. Fairy dragons are particularly good at this, which is why I was specifically seeking one, but really, any magickal creature with capacity to consent will serve. Do you understand?”

Simon’s tongue darted out over his little dragon teeth and he nodded. He guessed he got enough of the meaning behind the words Baz had rambled out.

“Okay, great. Now, the next part. I’m going to break the seal, please don’t fry me.”

Simon uncurled himself and shook himself out, stretching as he stood. He circled another moment, as if considering, before finally nodding his agreement.

Baz broke the seal with a quick swipe of his thumb through the chalk lines of his seal. Simon crawled himself forward slowly, eyeing the lines with mistrust, hissing as he crossed. No invisible force struck him back or kept him bound though, so he strode through the rest of the way all too confidently.

“Can you read?” Baz propped the open book up so Simon could see it’s lettering more clearly.

The look Baz got for the question was absolutely dead inside.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t know how common it is for dragons to read human languages.” Baz paused for a moment, brushing his hair back out of his face, and Simon huffed at him, rolling his eyes in a terribly exhasperated way that could only be expressed in such a tiny shape.

“Okay, so obviously you read,” Baz corrected, “Would you consider a contract with me? It’s not all one way. I’d keep you fed and housed and such. Give you enrichment activities.”

A small moment of extended eye contact passed between them.

“Alright, fair, I realize how that sounds. But there’s a lot of nuance to a familiar contract. You wouldn’t be like a pet, more like a partner in magick.”

Simon sat up on his haunches so he could look more properly at the awkward expression his proposed partner was wearing. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

“Okay, so yes, you caught me,” Baz sighed out. Simon, on the other hand, had no idea what he’d caught in the first place. “I was about to say partners in crime. Not that it would be magickal crime we’d be committing. Or any kind of crime. Do you even have a concept of human law and crime? Bloody hell, this really isn’t how I was expecting this to go…”

Simon hissed out an almost laugh, as close to the sound as he could get his vocal cords to manage in this shape.

“Okay, good. So I am being ridiculous. I’ll leave the contract here for you to go over. If you like it and want to sign it great. If not. We’ll figure out how to teleport you back from wherever you were before this. You can crash here for the night.” Baz gestured to a small bed shoved up into the corner of the room Simon’d been summoned into.

He took a moment to really take it in, since he’d been too distracted by being unwillingly bound in a circle before. It looked like it was a basement, a bit dim for lighting, but not particularly dready or unkept. In fact, it was a very, very neat space. Overly neat. Too neat. Shelves lined the walls, filled with either meticulously colour-coded magickal components or diligently alphabetized books. Baz was scuffing more of the circle up with the toe of his boot, and Simon figured he could take the contract and hop on the bed and give it a proper look over.

It didn’t seem like a bad deal. He was a bit in dire straights about food and shelter most nights, and he knew he had a wellspring of magick he couldn’t quite tap into. Maybe this mage boy could help him figure out some of that nuance too. They could be mutually beneficial. And, as Simon read further down, there were ways to break the contract without death of either party involved. That was good. He wasn’t sure he had the stomach for death if he wanted out, if he found out Baz wasn’t the sort of person he wanted touching his magick.

He huffed again, but quieter, resting his head on the pillow he’d been provided. A pillow — Simon could die happy now. It’d been months since he’d last rested in a proper bed. Apparently Baz had managed to sneak past him when he’d been going over the details, but that made sense. Simon had never been the strongest reader, even if he was completely capable. He just required a little extra concentration to get through things.

Well, why not? He figured. He flitted his way over to Baz’s inkpots, dipped a claw in, and signed his name on the dotted line. There were worse places to end up than at someone’s side as their familiar. Besides, Basil seemed nice enough.

Simon had even gotten the blanket and pillows he was due. And a mattress! Morgana and Merlin, bless, a mattress. There were far worse fates to be tied to, and it was with that thought that Simon passed out on his newly provided bed. A not so temporary bed.

He woke to the intoxicating smell of pancakes. It’d been a bloody era since he’d had proper, fresh pancakes…

Simon slipped from the bed thoughtlessly, snatching the contract as he went and drifted his way up the stairs, following that heady smell all the way to the kitchen. “Bloody hell, that smells delightful,” Simon declared as he plopped himself down in a chair.

Baz turned to look at him.

Simon blinked cluelessly back at Baz.

They stood their like that for a moment. A long, long moment. And then Basil was pointing his spatula very threateningly in Simon’s direction. “I’m sorry, whomst the fuck?”

Simon blinked again. He looked at the contract, exactly as he remembered from the night before. He looked to Baz, also exactly as he remembered from the night before. Then Simon looked at his hands. Then down to his legs. He waved his fingers. “Oh,” He said dumbly.

Well, at least the reaction made sense.

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #there's more of this to be posted

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countrymusiclover · 1 year ago

Text

31 - Not out of the woods Yet

Part 32

Family is More than Blood

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Standing in the middle of the stairwell doorway I sukcked im a breath feeling anger welling throughout my entire body. Alyssa still had the white oak stake shoved inside my husband’s chest. Raising my right hand I vamped forward causing her to grab her head in agonizing pain. “Ah sha lana…ah sha lana!”

“You can’t kill me, Raelyn!” She winced, holding her head and lowering herself down onto her knees.

Throwing her against the wall with my other hand she grunted at the impact. Rushing over to Nik's side he gasped harshly. I could see his skin turning Grey and the veins begin covering his whole body. Dropping myself down onto my knees I wrapped my fingers around the stake yanking it out so harshly that I fell backwards onto the wooden floor. “Urgh!....please work.” I mumbled to myself seeing his body remaining the same for a few good seconds.

His blue eyes shot open and he sat upright holding a hand over the wound that began healing. “Raelyn!”

“Oh…thank god.” Placing my hand over my heart I sighed in relief.

Hope came rushing over to my side. “Mom, are you back?”

“Yeah sweetie. I'm back - look out!” I cried pointing towards Alyssa or better yet the Hollow who had managed to remove herself from the wall spell.

The witch stands in front of us where I turned my hands into fists at my sides. Hope got in a fighting position beside me. “What are we going to do to her?”

“It doesn’t matter what you try on me, heretic. Only your daughter's can kill me in case you've forgotten.” The Hollow walked around with her hands clasped together behind her back proudly.

Alina growled under her breath moving forward and trying to kick Alyssa but she sensed the attack. She grabbed her ankle and swung her around in circles for a good minute before releasing her grip and threw her into the nearest bookshelf. “Alina!”

“I’m okay…” She gasped for breath, lifting her head up slightly when I called her name.

Missy scrambled to her feet snapping her wrists and throwing her hands out in front of her. “Ventus.” Alyssa cried out getting thrown backwards by the amount of magic she blasted her with.

“What are we supposed to do, heretic queen?” Klaus came over to my side finally getting to his feet ready to fight.

Quickly scanning the room I knew that we defeated the Hollow before with my kids blood and the knife that he killed her centuries ago. At the moment that knife was back in New Orleans with Freya and Vincent so we had to stall until we could get it from them. “We can’t kill her yet. We don't have what we need…or maybe we do.” I admit to him eyeing the white oak stake on the ground.

“What are you thinking?” He asked me where my gaze had landed.

Calling my eldest daughter she came over to us quickly. “Hope, cut your palm and drop your blood on the stake. Alina, Missy, you do the same.” Snatching the stake from the wooden ground handing it over to my first born child.

She nods using the end of the stake to cut her palm, drawing blood. She drops her blood, handing it over to Missy who follows her sister's action biting into her wrist making it bleed. “Alina, it's your turn.” Missy handed it to her and she cut her palm, gripping the stake in her hands before she launched it towards the hollow.

Alyssa raised her hand, stopping it with her hand throwing Klaus and our daughters backwards. She looked in my direction where I mumbled quietly under my breath turning invisible. “Invisique.” My whole body wasn't visible to her, giving me the opportunity to grab the stake that she had frozen in front of her chest.

“I’ve had just about enough of you, Hollow!” My husband grunted getting to his feet. He vamped towards her smacking into a barrier spell holding his head. “What the hell have you done?”

The Hollow glanced around confused. “That wasn’t me, hybrid.”

“Then who was it!” He questioned her, seeing a hand turning red against the barrier he had just smacked into.

Keeping my eyes shut briefly I became visible to their eyes once more. My freehand was pressing against the barrier with me muttering a spell. “Guess again, bitch!….Imperium monstrum.”

“Rae. We aren’t going through this again!” Klaus hit his fists on the barrier between him and the us now.

I shake my head pressing the stake into her back where I could smell the fresh blood dripping onto it. Now that it had my daughter's blood on it could actually kill her once and for all. “I’m sorry, Nik. But she has to die.”

“You said we shouldn’t kill if there’s another way.” Missy sent me some sad eyes.

Alina got to her side flashing her werewolf eyes while Hope had nothing else to add onto their statements. “Forget that. She took over Alyssa’s body and almost ruined our family. She took away mom’s memories. She tried to kill us too many times. I don’t see a problem with it!”

“Raelyn, don’t do this.” Klaus begged me with those blue eyes.

Shifting the tip of the stake up to her heart the hollow winced when I slowly pushed it inside her back. “This has to be done, Nik….urgh! Magia tollux de terras… Magia tollux de terras…Magia tollux de terras!” I began chanting, shoving the stake through her heart hearing her cry. At the same time my freehand gripping her shoulder blade turned red and siphoning the magic from her into my bloodstream.

I sucked in a shaky breath focusing my gaze to my husband seeing the same terrified gaze he had when I performed a spell like this one. But I didn’t regret what I was doing. This was to protect my family. To protect the school and the kids that attended it. And that image would remain burned in his memory for all eternity.

“Klaus, I need you to listen to me. I wish we had more time together. Because you are honestly everything I never knew I could have. I…I don’t know what I feel for you but I deeply care about you. So go live your life for me…Magia tollux de terras.” I started crying imagining that I never got to truly be with him. But he needed to live more than I did so that Caroline and the others could.

Klaus vamped forward not caring that the flames grew banging on the magical barrier crying some strong tears for me. “Raelyn! No, no, Rae. Don’t you dare do anything. Stop it, Rae….I deeply care for you too…”

“Magia tollux de terras……Magia tollux de terras.” I grunted forcing myself to my feet stumbling around with blood falling down onto my clothes as I walked towards Finn and Esther.

Grabbing Finn by his shoulder I limped in between the pair gripping Esther by the forearm where she winced sharply staring down at my red hand on both her and her son. “What the hell are you doing, girl!”

“Magia tollux de terras!” I declared gasping sharply feeling her energy running through her, but it was a lot more than I was ever used to. My eyes began rolling to the back of my head and I coughed out some blood from my mouth and nose. Black veins were appearing on my hands drawing her magical source from her

Klaus banged the barrier again hearing my heart almost giving out. “Raelyn, stop it. You have to let go before it kills you - Raelyn!”

Once they were gone I couldn’t stand on my own where I collapsed onto the dirt and salt beneath me. My blonde hair was dirty and stained with blood from where my neck was still bleeding from Finn’s bite. Someone vamped forward lifting my head where I struggled to meet the blue gaze of the hybrid. “Rae, Rae, hey, hey. Look at me please. I need you to keep your eyes open for me.”

“Nik…” I wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists, not able to keep my eyes open any longer.

My body started swaying like it had back then. The Hollow moaned in pain and I felt her body getting heavier against mine. She stumbled backwards and I could hear her heartbeat slowing down. “You can’t kill me, Heretic…”

“Really cause it looks like I’m winning the war right now.” I whispered in her ear, scraping my fangs against her neck, feeling her shiver against the fresh tips. Twisting the stake that was inside her chest she grunts harshly once more. My other hand on her shoulder gripped tighter for balance and I could see the black veins reappearing back across my body yet I didn’t ever let go. “Don’t mess with the Mikaelson’s!”

The hollow screamed out collapsing onto the wooden floor when I yanked the stake out from her chest, staining my clothes in blood. “Argh!….un.”

“Rae!” Klaus vamped forward managing to break through the spell that was now broken. He gently grabbed a hold of my forearms seeing that my body was swaying side to side. “You made the veins come back, love.”

“Nik, I’ll be fine….” I mumbled under my breath letting the bloody stake clatter to the wooden floor. My eyes began getting heavy and I could barely keep them open where my body fell forward to his chest.

He quickly caught my body and scooped me up in a bridal style. “Woah…easy now. You don’t see fine, Raelyn.” Laying my head against his embrace I gripped his shirt in my fingers.

“Dad, is she going to be okay?” Missy asked him.

Hope eyed Alyssa’s body on the ground. “I’ll handle her before anyone else sees this.”

“I still say she deserved it.” Alina smirked, not upset that I had staked her.

Klaus put his attention on our daughters hearing crying coming from the twins bedroom. He vamped, still carrying my body closely to his chest. He lays me down on the bed where I struggled to keep my eyes open seeing baby Charming crawling around on the floor and the curtains were blowing around with the light’s flickering around in the wind he was creating. “Klaus, what’s going on with our boy?”

“I don’t know. I’m more worried about you, heretic queen.” My husband came over to me touching the side of my face seeing that the black veins hadn’t gone away. “How are you feeling?”

Coughing into my sleeve I saw Rapunzel trying to get to her feet and climb on the edge of the bed. She came over to me touching my arm and I winced seeing her hand turn red meaning she was a siphoner until her twin brother. “Ah Rapunzel!”

“Little niece, we have a problem.” I gasped somewhat recognizing the voice that called me that old nickname. Blinking through some tears my vision began blurring where I saw a figure standing by my husband that appeared to be my dead uncle Joshua.

Croaking out I didn’t understand what the Hollow’s magic was doing to me. “Uncle Joshua, no. You’re…you’re dead.”

“Raelyn, there’s no one there.” Klaus glanced over his shoulder seeing nobody was there. “I’m calling Freya right now.”

Shaking my head the veins growing up my arm started burning through my blood making me wince sharply. My dead uncle came and sat down on the bed and put Rapunzel down in his lap. “How am I seeing you right now?”

“Because you're on the verge of death after taking that magic again. If you don’t get rid of it soon you will die. You can’t hold onto that much power all at once.” Uncle Joshua warned me, eyeing baby Charming. “That’s not the only warning I have for you.”

Charming coughed and the glass in the window cracked. Rapunzel watched her brother and clasped her hands together causing one of the pillows beside my head to burst into feathers. “What else could be worse than the fact that I’m dying from black magic yet again?”

“I don’t know how but these little guys aren’t spared from the family curse like we originally thought. After Kai escaped his prison world I could feel something changing in heaven and I can’t explain it.” My uncle explained in a shaky breath.

Covering my face with my hands I didn’t want to believe him. It had to be the dark magic inside me trying to play tricks on my mind. I knew that I had spared anyone in my bloodline. I just couldn’t save Lizzie and Josie from the Merge. “You’re a trick by the Hollow. Charming and Rapunzel don’t have to merge. I took care of it years ago. I know I did.”

“I’m sorry to say that when Kai escaped something was reset. Either by his hand or somebody else I don’t know.” Uncle Joshua sucked in a worried breath meeting my gaze. “Alina and Missy are spared. But he spelled these two with something dark.”

I gulped still in strong denial of what he was telling me. “Uncle Joshua, you’re lying.”

He slumped his shoulders and disappeared the second that Klaus came back into the room informing me that Freya was on her way from Orleans. “I wish I could say I was, little niece. But Rapunzel and Charming will have to merge at some point.” Shutting my eyes I laid my head back feeling my whole body shaking and my heart was getting tighter in my chest even though I was a vampire. The Mikaelson’s aren’t out of the wood’s just yet.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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