#but like would YOU want your boss to walk behind you and see bunny suit lamb
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Unsheared Icon bullies first husband
Do not imagine the suffering that goes into putting latex on over fur
Like to charge, Reblog to cast
#digital art#thoth.art#artist on tumblr#cult of the lamb#Agnus (cotl lamb)#cotl barbatos#cotl lamb#bunny suit#lambatos#move over narilamb you're a lategame ship#even though the lace on the suit is Narinder skulls :3c#Barbatos is out here answering the question would you love me if i were a worm#the answer is yes. he's so cute in pink you understand#do i tag this#suggestive#like i might not care#but like would YOU want your boss to walk behind you and see bunny suit lamb#maybe if you had a cool boss
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Paddock Bunny Series - 1
AN - Yay! I'm so happy for the first post to my new series! I hope you like it and if you have any ideas of what you want to see happen in the world of Y/N Brown feel free to message me with your ideas! I have nothing planned for this series and no real end goal so this could be 10 chapters long to 100 chapters long just depends on how much you guys like it!
Happy Birthday to Lando!!
Drivers included:
Lando Norris x Reader
Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x Reader (not every chapter will have a threesome but it was necessary for the plot!)
TW - Squirting, multiple orgasms, oral (M and F receiving/giving), hickey, back scratches, protected sex, MxM (not all threesomes with have MxM), cum swallowing, cum swapping
WC - 4.1k +
Y/N POV
"Please let me take you home tonight," Lando slurs in my ear for a third time tonight.
"Lando, you're too drunk to sleep with your bosses daughter," I reply back softly making him groan.
"Please, just one night and we never have to talk about it again," Lando says making me laugh and shake my head.
"If you get your maiden win within the first 10 races of the season I'll let you take me home for a night," I reply back making Lando's face light up at the thought.
"Deal!" Lando smile and runs off making me laugh softly and shake my head knowing he would forget about it by morning.
Lando and I have known each other since his rookie season in Formula 1 and have been close friends since than. It was no secret that Lando and I both had some kind of tension between us but neither of us trying anything knowing how much of a grey area it is.
That was back in February before the season had even started and now it's just a few hours after Miami and Lando is texting me the room number to his hotel room.
"478, it't the suite on the left corner"
"I thought you would have forgotten about that night"
"I'd never forget the one chance to finally sleep with you"
I just roll my eyes at the short conversation before gathering my belongings and making my way to the driver who would be taking me back to the hotel all Mclaren employees were staying in.
When I walked through the Miami hotel I quickly make my way up to Lando's room following the directions he had sent me.,
"Hi," Lando says opening the door after I had just knocked.
"Hi," I smile back inviting myself in. I spent the first couple minutes in Lando's hotel just looking at him to nervous to make the first move.
"Do you want this?" Lando asks softly making me look up and nod softly.
"Ya, a deal is a deal," I reply softly making Lando's smile drop slightly before taking a few tentative steps towards me.
"No, that's not how consent works. Do you want to do it?" Lando asks stepping even closer so we were now face to face with each other.
Instead of responding I connect my hands behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Once the initial shock wears off Lando melts into the kiss wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer into his chest.
"Fuck, Lan," I moan softly when Lando squeezing my ass with his hands.
Lando's lips start trailing from my lips down to my neck where he spends special attention on my neck looking for my sweet spot and once he locates is just under my ear I let out a soft moan making Lando smirk before sinking his teeth down and sucking softly I'm sure leaving a small mark behind.
I feel Lando's arms wrap around my waist tighter before softly mumbling jump. Once I just softly I wrap my arms around his waist and letting him walk us towards the bedroom.
Once we get into the bedroom he lightly drops me down onto the bed before he slowly pulls his shirt from his body before letting it fall to the ground.
Once Lando's upper half was bare he slowly climbed into the bed and over my body letting himself gently sit on my thighs while he stares down at me before slowly pulling my shirt up my torso and helping me sit up softly so he can pull it off completely.
Once he discards the Mclaren team kit on the ground he get his first glimpse of my bare tits.
"Fuck," Lando whispers softly still staring right at my tits before he takes a tit in each hand and gives it a firm squeeze making me moan softly at the feeling.
"Sound so pretty," Lando whispers out more to himself than me but it didn't matter my cheeks reddened at the praise regardless.
"Lan, please," I whine softly trying to grind my hips up making me smirk before pushing my hips back down towards the bed denying me of the little stimulation I was getting.
"Patience, I've waited years for my chance, you can wait another few minutes to feel my tongue," Lando replies back making me whine at his words while trying to clench my thighs together but being stopped by Lando's sturdy body blocking them from closing fully.
"God, you are even more beautiful that I could have dreamed," Lando groans while softly rubbing his fingers up my sides making me whine softly and goosebumps to grow across my skin.
Once Lando had felt like he teased enough he slowly started pulling my black Mclaren issued skirt off before discarding it somewhere on the floor before running a teasing finger over the center of my thong making me suck in a breath at the feeling of his finger light touch running across my overly sensitive clit.
"Fuck, you're already soaked for me," Lando says with a soft smirk before roughly ripping my thong from my body making me gasp out loudly at the sting of the fabric tearing against my skin.
It was clear in the moment that any patience left in Lando has completely ran out and now the starved man in front of me was ready to have his first warm meal in over a year.
When the first flick of Lando's tongue was sent right over my clit I can't help but moan out and arch my back at the feeling.
"Fuck," I moan softly when I feel Lando's tongue flick over my clit again making me whimper.
"SO fucking responsive," Lando groans out before diving back into my soaked pussy.
"Oh Lando," I moan when I feel Lando start sucking my clit into his mouth. My hands were now tangled in Lando's hair gripping and pulling him impossibly closer.
"So sweet," Lando mumbles into my pussy making me whimper at the vibrations being sent straight to my clit.
I knew with how long it had been with the last time I had slept with someone and how good Lando was abusing my clit I knew I wasn't gonna last long.
"Fuck," I scream out softly when I feel two of Lando's long fingers slip into my soaked pussy filling me up and grazing my G-spot was perfect precision.
"I can tell you're already close," Lando says with a smirk spread across his face while he starts finger fucking me making me moan and arch my back off the bed again which has Lando using his hand to push me back into the bed before attaching his mouth to my clit and sucking.
"I'm gonna cum," I announce loudly while gripping tighter into Lando's now messy curls.
No sooner than the words leaving my mouth Lando instantly speeds up the actions with his fingers and sucking even harder on my clit almost instantly throwing me over the edge into a loudly messy orgasm that left me shaking under Lando.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant when I have no time to come down from the overwhelming pleasure because Lando and still fingering me with lighting speed.
"Oh shit," I moan when I feel a second orgasm approaching before the tightly wound band in my tummy snapped throwing me over the edge into a squirting orgasm.
"Fuck," Lando gasps amazed at the pleasure he just had coursing through my body.
"Holy fuck," I gasp when I look down and realize the mess I had caused but with the smug look on Lando's face the mess is the last thing on his mind right now.
Lando slowly climbs out of the bed and quickly takes off his pants and briefs in one go letting his hard length spring free. My eyes are instantly locked on the red angry tip that was already leaking precum.
"I want a taste," I announce timidly while letting my eyes flicker up to lock eyes with Lando where he's staring at me with a smirk spread across his face.
"I'm serious," I say while climbing out of bed and getting on my knees and instantly gripping onto Lando's cock making him hiss at the sensations.
I slowly bring my mouth to the tip of Lando's cock where I lick a strip collecting a bit of the precum from his cock and let the flavors linger on my tongue before I take his tip into my mouth and start sinking down taking more of his cock as I go.
"Fuck," Lando groans letting his hands tangle into my brunette hair.
I can't help but moan at the feeling of Lando's cock fill my mouth more than any man has ever.
Once my nose brushes against the trimmed patch of hair covering Lando's pelvic bone I can't help but look up to find Lando with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. When I slowly start bobbing my head with still looking up at Lando I notice the way his face pinches up at the pleasure before he moans softly and looks down locking eyes with me.
"Fuck, you're a sight to be been," Lando groans using the hands tangled in my hair to bob me up and down his cock faster.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last long," Lando groans at the admission but it only makes me speed up my action on his cock. I bring my hand up to his balls and start playing with them which has Lando groaning and pushing me all the way down on his cock before he lets out a low groan before cumming deep into my throat making me gag slightly but still swallow what I can.
"Fuck," Lando groans slipping his cock from my lips and rubbing the spit and cum mixture across my mouth marking me with his cum, his way of marking his territory.
"You're so hot. Your swollen little lips covered in my cum," Lando leans down close to my face with a smirk on his face before the heat of the moment got the best of him and he takes my mouth in his tasting his own cum on his lips.
With Lando's lips still locked with mine he slowly picks me up off the ground before he gently places me on the bed near the edge where I feel his still hard cock rub against my clit making me moan.
When Lando pulls away still standing at the edge of the bed I go to whine when I see him grab a condom off the night stand making me raise a brow at him.
"It was the first thing I went out and bought when I won," Lando says with a boyish smile on his face clearly embarrassed to admit how excited he was.
"I appreciate the readiness," I tell him softly while I watch him roll the condom down his length before stepping between my spread thighs again and tearing my clit with his cock before slipping his length into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck, so damn tight," Lando grits out between clenched teeth making me whimper at that the burning feeling of being stretched out on his cock.
"Slower," I whimper when I feel Lando start rocking his hips into mine which has him stopping his movements giving me a few moments to adjust before I nod and feel Lando slowly pull his cock out an inch or so before thrusting back in making both of us moan at the feeling.
"Oh," I moan softly when I feel Lando's thrusts start to pick up making my nails dig in a bit deeper into his shoulders making him hiss at the feeling.
"Lan, it feels so good," I moan when I feel Lando's thrust turn from fast and shallow to hard and deep making me feel him in a whole new way. I can feel my nails digging into his back, probably leaving marks behind but with the way Lando only speeds up the harder I grip him I don't think he has any complaints.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Lando grunts out clearly getting close to the edge.
"I'm gonna cum," I announce suddenly when I feel Lando's cock drill right into me G-spot over and over again.
"Fuck, cum with me," Lando grunts his hips shuddering a bit before I feel him start to cum into the condom sending me over the edge into another shaking orgasm.
"Fuck," Lando grunts coming down from his orgasm as he slowly slips his cock from my overstimulated pussy making me whimper at the stimulation.
"Fuck, you took me so well," Lando tells me softly helping me sit up before handing me a water bottle and letting me take a few sips before he takes a few sips himself.
"You're not weirded out to drink from the same straw as me," I ask softly making Lando laugh lightly.
"I tasted my cum from your lips, we're past sharing water bottles," Lando says softly making a me laugh with him and nod my head understanding.
For the next 30 minutes Lando and I spent it in the shower while he told me how good I did for him making me blush under the praise.
When we get out of the bathroom and I wince when I catch sight of Lando's back.
"I'm sorry," I say softly while running a light finger over one of the darker scratches.
"I would live the rest of my life with them if it meant I got to fuck you everyday," Lando says while looking at the damage in the mirror with a shrug.
"You want to do it again?" I ask shyly not even thinking about the possibility of doing it again.
"I mean, yeah. It was honestly the best sex I've ever had but if this was a one off for you, I'm more than okay with that," Lando tells me honestly making me smile and nod.
"I'd like to do it again," I tell him softly with a nod making him smile.
It's only a few days later when I get another Facetime from Lando. When I answer I come face to face with a smirking Carlos and a sheepish looking Lando staring back at me. Both boys where clearly shirtless on a yacht but from the looks of it they were still docked.
"You attacked my boy?" Carlos asks with a smirk falling from his lips making me jaw drop slightly at a total loss for words.
"I have no idea what you're on about Sainz," I respond back with a blush creeping up onto my cheeks.
"No? This should remind you," Carlos says while flipping the camera and showing me Lando's back that was still scattered with a few lingering marks.
"Okay, so Lando and I had a bit of fun. What about it?" I ask trying to be nonchalant. It had never been a secret that when Carlos joined Mclaren with Lando I had a crush on him so having a conversation like this year later it a bit bone rattling.
"I just wish I had gotten an invite," Carlos says while flipping the camera back to face a red faced Lando and a smug looking Carlos. I know my cheeks are as red as Lando's if not redder.
"What?!" Is the only word out of my mouth clearly still too stunned to speak.
"Oh cut the crap, Brown! It was no secret that you fancied me back in my Mclaren days. If you're in Monaco come to the dock," Carlos says with a smirk making me gawk at the two for a few seconds before I hang up the phone and get changed into a swimsuit.
I shoot Lando a quick text letting him know I would be there in a few minutes. I guess you could say curiosity killed the cat but if a long time crush was offering me a day on his yacht I wasn't gonna pass it up.
When I get to the dock I find Lando sitting at the nose of the boat with a sour look spread across him face while looking at his phone while Carlos is smirking with his arms crossed watching me approach him.
"We have company," Carlos announcing making Lando look up from his phone letting his sour look deepen.
"Before I step foot on this yacht. I need to know what is about to happen and if both of you guys are consenting," I saw while looking directly at Lando.
"There's zero pressure on what we do today. But both of us understand what could happen and we're on the same page, Lando's just but hurt he couldn't keep you to himself," Carlos says making me raise a brow at him.
"No Carlos, I'm annoyed at you because you haven't shut up for the past 15 minutes about what happened between me and her," Lando announces with a bit of a whiney voice making me laugh softly.
When I set onto the yacht I look around to make sure we were alone before I walk to Lando and stand between his legs and lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips.
"Do you want whatever could happen to happen?" I whisper making sure he knew it was just a conversation between us.
"Yes," Lando finally answers looking up at me through his long lashes.
“I’m positive, it wouldn't be the first time Carlos and I shared someone,” Lando admits softly making me look up at Carlos with a surprised face. He just sends me back one of his signature smirks making me roll my eyes jokingly before stepping away from Lando and placing my stuff where it belonged before pulling off my swimsuit cover and making me way to find Carlos is alright driving the boat away from the dock while Lando rests back allowing his tanned skin to soak up even more sunlight.
I climb onto the sofa next to Lando allowing my head to rest on his shoulder.
"We aren't doing a single thing you don't consent to, and Carlos is big on verbal consent," Lando tells me softly angling his head so he can look me in the eye.
"Okay," I reply softly with a small smile playing on my lips.
Once Carlos has gotten us far away from the shore I realize we are completely alone in a cove with not a single person around us.
When Carlos approaches both Lando and I he leans down and places a quick kiss on Lando's mouth making me gawk at them softly before Carlos turns his attention on me.
"Can I kiss you, Hermosa?" Carlos asks softly making a me nod my head but quickly give a soft yes remembering what Lando had just been telling me.
As soon as the word left my mouth Carlos crashes his lips onto mine and our kiss was the complete opposite of the one him and Lando shared. While his and Lando's was quick and a bit lack luster Carlos and I's is heated and intense.
When I feel Carlos softly graze his tongue against my bottom lip I part my mouth and feel Carlos's tongue tangle with mine making me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck, such a sweet little mouth. Lando has told me your head game is the best, would you like to prove him right?" Carlos asks softly.
"Yes sir," I reply back softly while pushing Carlos to sit next to me making me turn my body towards him on my hands and knees with my ass facing Lando making him groan at the sight of my swimsuit riding up my ass.
I pull Carlos's swim trunks just enough to free his hard cock before bringing my mouth down to his cock and pulling it into my mouth making him hiss at the feeling of me taking his full length into my mouth.
"Fuck," Carlos groans throwing his head back when I feel the tip of his cock bypass my gag reflex taking him all the way.
I start bobbing my head on his cock making Carlos tangle his fingers into my hair while Lando pulls my swim bottoms to the side where he started teasing my clit making me moan around Carlos's cock.
Once Lando felt I was wet enough he grips into my hair pulling me off Carlos's cock making me whine at the loss. Once Lando gets me situated on my hands and knees but this time facing Lando I realize all the prep he had done wasn't for him but was for Carlos.
Lando pulls his shorts off letting me take his cock into my mouth while I feel the tip of Carlos's cock teasing my clit making me pull off Lando's cock and trying to turn my head.
"He's wearing protection," Lando tells me softly making me nod my head and get back to work with Lando's cock. When I feel Carlos slowly sinking his thick cock into my tight pussy I whimper at the stretch. I can tell he's wearing a condom making me smile softly to myself knowing Lando was telling me the truth.
I knew I wasn't gonna last long but when I feel my orgasm build almost instantly I start freaking out slightly trying to pull my hips away from Carlos.
"Am I hurting you," Carlos asks letting my hips go letting me get away slightly.
"No! I was about to cum," I admit sheepishly making Carlos groans and sink his cock back into me in one quick motion before pounding into me and throwing me over the edge almost instantly.
"I don't care if you cum in 3 seconds or 3 hours, I want you to let go," Carlos groans fucking me through my orgasm before slowing down almost completely letting me come down from my orgasm without over stimulating me but once I got a few minutes of rest Carlos gets right back to it making me moan around Lando's cock making him whimper and pull me off his cock not wanting to cum just yet.
"Fuck, Carlos," I moan rather loudly letting my voice echo across the water coming out far louder than I was hoping.
"So fucking tight," Carlos groans clearly getting close to the edge making Lando shove his cock back into my mouth. I could feel another orgasm building deep in the pit of my stomach and once I finally release I feel Carlos shove deep into me one last time before filling the condom up with his cock. I feel Lando shudder one last time before a loud whine leaves his mouth and he starts cumming filling my mouth with his cum.
"Don't swallow," Carlos groans while slowly slipping his cock from my pussy making a me turn my head slightly and open my mouth showing him my mouth full of cum.
"Swallow some of it and spit the rest into his mouth," Lando says out of breath behind me making me look at Carlos who has a smirk on his face and he nods giving me permission. I swallow half of Lando's load before standing up and pulling Carlos into my mouth and pushing the rest of the cum in his mouth where he quickly swallows it and pulls me in for a quick makeout before pulling back and grabbing his discarded swim trunks.
Lando helps me get dressed before pulling me back into his chest and letting me cuddle up with him.
"Who else have you told?" I finally ask in a hushed whisper while Carlos starts moving the yacht to another location.
"No one I swear! But I'm sure Carlos will tell Charles, who will tell Pierre, who will tell Yuki, who will tell everyone," Lando admits sheepishly making my face grow hot and a groan to leave my lips.
"Great so I'm about to become the paddock whore," I saw with a cringed look across my face.
"No, I'm positive if anything they'll just want a taste," Lando tells me softly making me groan and throw my head back.
"That might even be worse," I groan again making Lando laugh softly.
"You do what you want. If someone tries anything and you don't want it you tell them to fuck off," Lando says as if this was the most normal situation in the world.
Over the next few weeks the group chat that started with just Lando, Carlos and I had slowly grown in size. While I wasn't sure how word had spread so fast I was positive that my life was not the same one it was at the start of the season.
#Lee-Lee's Paddock Bunny Series#formula 1 fic#formula 1#formula one#male form#formula racing#formula 2#lando norris#mclaren#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris smut#lando norris imagines#ln4 x y/n#ln4 mcl#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 smut#carlando smut#carlando imagines#carlando x you#carlando fanfiction#carlando fic#carlando x reader#carlando au
761 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blob blop - here’s some more Mafia!reader and Simon :p pt 3
“No!!” You laugh, walking beside the daunting man as you stroll aimlessly through the dimly lit and very well decorated corridors of the museum, “Oh come on! What was I supposed to do? watch and be like: oh that’s sucks.”
Simon gave you a look, it you thought he did, judging by the way his eyes squinted at you, “Well…I don’ think runnin into a busy street is th’ proper reaction to a kitten almos’ gettin hit.”
A moment passed and you stared at him, “So you’re just a heartless monster then.”
He seemed taken back and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully, hands shoved into the jean pocket, “prefer to not think tha’.”
You scrunch up your nose and shake your head, “Nope. That’s a horrible answer. It’s goes cute kitties, cute puppies, cute turtles, cute baby bunnies, ducks, birds, and then people.” When he laughed to that you gave an equal smile, or, again, what you assumed to be a smile.
For the most part you walked through the museum in silence, and every so often you would end up rambling on about some price of art and how it related to some aspect of your story. And he listened, nodding and putting in his own two cents every so often.
“An…Ivon…he just…” Simon faltered off as he looked over his shoulder as you both were now sitting in the lobby of the museum, since you wanted to figure out the certain painting was located, “he jus….follows ya?”
You hum and look at Ivon, waving and then going back to your little map, “Mmhm. Like I said I think he took out like a huge loan from my dad and couldn’t pay it back.” You stay quiet and then look up at him, “That sounds awful. But…uh…my father, he’s a bit of a loan shark.”
“Loan shark?”
-
“Get him out of my sight-“ Before he had the chance to finish his phrase a loud ring of a gun echoed through the office and he groans, “Outside!! just redid the carpet.”
The man, who very often was just called Cary, winced and then looked at the new hire, and then back to his boss. A good looking man for his sixties, peppered hair and a suit that was worth more than his name, so he then took a step forward. Mindlessly going to pour a glass of whiskey, as he normally would after a poor sap crossed his employer.
“I swear these new boys have no respect for the business, gangsters, drug lords- they’re all too stupid to see the business behind it.” Dominic grumbled into the glass as he was handed it, “It’s not all guns, you don’t have to be trigger happy son. You want to shoot you become a solider.”
By that point the twenty year old was already shaking in his boots and he does his best to keep his gaze directed low.
Dominic shakes his head and then shoos the poor boy out, maybe a few more days of training- as good workers were hard to come by and he wasn’t about to murder a good man in the making. The body laying on the ground spoke otherwise but he doesn’t care much about that man, a rotten person: thinking they could backtrack and tell someone of his trade.
After a few moments he lets out a sigh and turns his chair to not look at the body, “Send Ivon in.”
Cary faltered, “He is not yet here, sir.”
A pause, “Really? Where are they? It’s not Friday and bug didn’t put anything in the calendar.”
“A new friend sir, from the flower shop, a Simon Riley. We already pulled a background check, aside from a few juvenile charges and a foster care- he seems to be good, clean.”
Dominic held out his hand and looked as the small folder was placed into it, looking over the picture of the man clipped to the front of it and he gives a nod, “Strong build. Looks depressed.”
“He was prescribed Prozac and trazadone, he has not refilled either within four years.”
He laughs, “Alright. Tell Bug to invite him to dinner.”
(Annnn that’s all! Comments and feedback actually mean the world to me! Toodles!!)
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#coco's chaos <3#cod x you#simon riley x you#cod fluff#simon riley x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#simon fluff#cod simon riley#simon riley#simon x reader
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Eternal Shift - A FNaF / DSaF Fanstory | Chapter 2 : Showtime
Christopher turned around and immediately jumped in horror. "Holy f--!!" He yelped, looking at the slouched mascot suit in the corner with wide eyes.
It had dark empty eyes and a large smiling mouth. It was clearly supposed to be a cat or something.
He eased past it slowly.
"That's... creepy." He thought to himself, picking up his toolkit and exiting the saferoom, walking down the narrow, mouldy-smelling hallway.
"Hey." A voice was heard from behind him.
Christopher stopped, before turning around slowly.
A woman with blonde hair baring multicolor stripes in it stood there, her large teeth like a rabbit's, her body cloaked in darkness. "Hello." Christopher responded monotonously, "What do you want?"
"Just saying hi. You're new here... ain't'cha...?" She asked. Christopher nodded slowly, eyeing the woman suspiciously. "I'm Toga. Toga Usmagi. Nice to meet you!" She said, her tone unhinged. Christopher did not shake her hand.
"Nice meeting you too. I have work to attend to now. Goodbye." He said, hurrying away from the woman.
The woman stared for a moment, before putting her hand back down at her side, smile fading, expression becoming dark. The light flickered.
Christopher entered the main party room and approached Oliver's office, now in his uniform. He opened the door loudly, causing Oliver to flinch. "Boss." He snapped to get his attention, the phone headed man turned with a yelp, startled.
"Employee! Oh... w-what do you want...?" Oliver asked.
[* Can I leave yet? ]
[* What do I do? ]
[* Just came here to see you, baby ;) (lie)]
[* When is lunch? ]
"What do I do?" Christopher demanded. Oliver stared. "Um... you mean... on your shift?" He asked. "Yes."
"Uh... well. Check on the animatronics and make sure they work? Pick pizza bits out of Daphne?" Oliver responded, clutching the sides of his chair nervously. Christopher stared down at him, before leaving the office.
"... God, something is so wrong with that man... we are really desperate for employees." Oliver shook his head and went back to filling out paperwork.
Christopher walked between tables and chairs and stepped up onto stage, throwing the curtains back to see the rubber faced, musty smelling, furry things standing tall before him. He grimaced at the smell they emitted, it was like roadkill.
He hesitantly checked on each and every one of them, Frederick Fatbear, a bear, Bonanza the Bunny, and Daphne the "Duck", who frankly looked more like a chicken.
Daphne had a piece of noticably mouldy pizza lodged in her mouth, which Christopher stared at.
Would it really be a good idea to stick his hand in there?
[> Yes (retrieve pizza)]
[> No (leave it)]
Against your better judgment, you reach into the thing's mouth and get the pizza, and snatch your hand out before the jaws snap down. You blink and look at the pizza, before carrying it over to a trashcan to throw it away.
"Hey, what are you doing?" He heard Oliver say. He looked up. "That pizza is probably still usable."
Christopher blinked. "Pardon?" He asked.
"It's only slightly mouldy." Oliver folded his arms. "Go put it in the kitchen." Christopher sneered in disgust, and obeyed his boss' order, and brought the pizza slice to the kitchen...
Where he threw it away regardless. No wonder this place keeps getting sued...
This goddamn place opened in a few minutes, and it was far from ready. But that was the least of Christopher's worries. He was here to make sure every kid that entered this godforsaken place came out alive, not to make profit.
It's showtime.
--------------------------------------------------
Next chapter
Previous chapter
0 notes
Text
2 • Bad For Business | YLGSE
Pairing: Mob Boss! Bucky x Baker Reader
Summary: Digesting the news of who Bucky is requires some Yelena, Pizza & wine, meanwhile Bucky gets to work on his plans with the help of his right hand men.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: none I think, angst perhaps, mob business maybe
A/N: Sorry this is late, it was my office Christmas party last night & I hadn’t finished the graphics or description in time.
Graphics by @firefly-graphics
Series Masterlist
[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]
Bucky walked back to the office like the pavement was made of clouds, feeling as light as air, as though his spirit had been lifted to another realm from the encounter with the beautiful baker of his dreams. He needed to be cautious though, if you knew who he really was the welcome he received wouldn’t have been nearly as sweet, a soft little thing like you wouldn’t have been so willing to be alone with him, his reputation was that of a rabid dog not someone who meandered in meadows with little fluffy bunnies.
He had the perfect excuse to see you again, but he needed to make sure of a few things before he did, for your sake he wanted to keep his cards close to his chest & not draw you into this life or the people in it including his closest friends. You were for just him, so to get the information he needed to execute his plan he had to be smart, calculating & as subtle as possible.
‘What’s up boss?’
Bucky cursed the fact that Steve casually walked into his office with not so much as a knock these days especially when he was lost in thought, yes, they had been life long friends, but it paid dividends to not startle a man with a gun in this business. Sam was hot on his tail & offered his boss a quiet apology for the intrusion, if Bucky was the brains of the organisation, Steve was the brawn & Sam was the calm in the storm, he often stopped the two friends from exploding at each other when Bucky demanded patience & calculated moves, but Steve wanted to cause mayhem.
As if on cue the intercom sounded & his too dumb for words secretary Chanel drawled through the speaker, ‘Mr Barneeeeessss, Mr Rogers & Mr Wilson are here to see yooouuuu.’
‘Yeah got that already Chanel, thanks’ he rolled his eyes as he closed the laptop screen in front of him, he had spent the last hour glued to it trying to find your social media or anything about you online, he only managed to find your business account & drooled at some of the creations showcased on there, already sending through a request for Chanel to order a breakfast buffet for his staff at the end of the week.
Bucky remained seated behind his oversized mahogany desk, he hadn’t changed much of the space he inherited from his father George, it remained a sore point & although yes, it looked like it was taken directly from the set of Goodfellas he just wasn’t ready to update the décor to match the rest of the modern sleek office. He gestured to the two leather armchairs facing him, ‘Gentlemen, take a seat.’
Steve looked nervous fiddling with the buttons on his suit as he looked around the desk & office actively avoiding Bucky’s eye contact, ‘If this is about Peter, I told you we found the shipment & he’s officially been banned on upgrading any tech before a thorough test has been carried out.’ He swiftly reassured, a rare backtrack for him, usually he would dig his heels in that they had done nothing wrong but seeing the vein in Bucky’s neck almost pop from trying not to blow his lid at the kid made him choose his battle & this wasn’t one he would win.
Bucky casually swiped the air with his hand, ‘Yeah sure, that’s fine.’ Dismissing the fuck up like he wasn’t raging two hours earlier threatening to murder a 17-year-old kid.
Both Sam & Steve looked at him perplexed as to why he let it go so easily, exchanging looks of disbelief, Steve was sure he would have at least a broken finger at the end of this meeting, though he had noticed the expression on his old friends face when he came back to the office, it was soft, wistful almost, he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his best friend without a scowl on his face, it must have been a hell of a coffee.
‘I’ve been thinking Gentlemen, we currently hold most of the city & boroughs, once the Stark deal is done I’m looking at investing some funds into legitimate businesses within our territory to funnel our profits into, if we are pleasing uncle Sam it’s easy clean money & the cops won’t be able to touch us.’
‘We own the cops Buck.’ Steve stated like it was a fact, the arrogance of his best friend was no shock, there was no shred of doubt in his mind that he believed that to be true & whilst yes, they could get themselves out of a tight corner with a call to the right person Bucky knew better than to accept that the status quo would always be a constant.
‘For now, but who’s to say a new commissioner wont fuck with us or a fresh-faced naïve politician being elected thinking they can clean up the streets of organised crime.’
Steve raised a brow at this turn of events, sure Bucky always kept them on their toes, but this was completely out of the left field, ‘You thinkin’ of going straight Buck?’
He scoffed at the mere thought, ‘Never Punk, but having clean money will make expansion easier further down the road & less questions will be asked as to where we acquired the funds. We won’t just run the city when I’m done, we’ll own it all too.’
Sam had been silently observing the notoriously savvy business man from the moment he let the shipping incident go, he relished in breaking bones to assert his leadership over his associates even if they belonged to his best friend, so to do a 180 was completely out of character. Bucky always had his own reasons behind business decisions, especially when he only gave a face value justification, Sam always knew when there was a card close to his chest he wasn’t willing to share until the time was right, all he could do was get on with it until it came to light, ‘So whaddya need from us?’
‘I need you to put in the ground work to vet some existing business’ I can invest in; the top of Grand Street in Williamsburg looks a good place to start. Small laundry business’, cafes, high turnover cash transactional businesses are the target. Gather all the accounts info, details of the owners, their social security down to their family tree, I want to know what they had for lunch yesterday if necessary. I don’t want any bad eggs, these people need to be 100% clean, not so much as a parking ticket, understand?’
They both nodded in unison with Sam taking notes down in his pad as to what needed to be done, he figured the kid could prove himself useful with his hacking skills & hopefully they wouldn’t have to work solidly for the next 24 hours if most of it could be done on a computer.
‘Get me the information by close of business tomorrow.’ With a firm nod Steve made a quick exit, he’d dodged the pervebeal bullet & didn’t want to chance it putting his foot it in further, Sam however remained seated.
‘What brought this on Bucky?’ He lifted his brows, Steve may have been his life long friend, but Sam was his closest confidant & sounding board, often trusting him with information that he wouldn’t with Steve.
‘During my forced exile to calm down, I got a coffee at a bakery, as I sat there I noticed the foot traffic, the cash swapping hands & it just came to me. Legitimising part of our operation & laundering the cash through them will help our long-term survival.’
‘Just came to you, huh? I thought you would have got your coffee to go & marched straight back to break some limbs.’
‘Normally I would but I was particularly irritated Samuel, so I decided to stick around to stop myself murdering a child.’
‘Hmmm so being in a crowded bakery helped you calm down? You, the guy who has a staring problem & whose favourite sound is silence?’ He sat back on his chair with his arms folded, Bucky didn’t fail to notice the smug smile plastered on his face as if he had solved some giant clue.
‘It was quiet, actually … & silence isn’t my favourite sound.’ He wouldn’t admit to his friend that it was now the sound of your warm voice.
‘So, do you want to tell me why you really stuck around or why you don’t look quite as menacing as you usually do? Something clearly happened, since when do you drop something so easily without breaking a finger or two?’
‘I’m clearly maturing & not resorting to violence in the first instance.’
Sam’s forced fake laughter bristled Bucky no end but in fairness he did sound like he had a brain injury from his usual demeanour of break bones first ask questions later.
‘Yeah I’m not buying that for a second, ok you’re keeping it to yourself, I respect that, but I’m sure at some point you’ll need some advice so I’m here If you need it.’
‘Just get me that information & we’ll see about the rest Samuel.’
A nod from Bucky told Sam that the conversation was over, he got to his feet & returned the gesture ‘Will do Boss’ turning on his heel he made his way back to his desk leaving the mob boss sat behind his desk to contemplate his morning.
Once he had the office to himself he let out a relieved sigh that his plans were in motion, he knew Steve wouldn’t ask questions, he never did & took everything Bucky asked him to do at face value. Sam, however, never missed a trick & knew there was more to his request than met the eye, thankfully he knew better than to pry further.
He would confide in Sam when he had all the intel, he was pissed off at himself for giving them so much time, he wanted to see you in the morning, hell, he’d march straight back to your bakery & wait until you closed so he could have you all to himself without any more disturbances. Usually he was the patient one, it was being tested to the max because all his mind seemed to do throughout the rest of the day was find its way back to you.
You had sat perched on the stairs hunched over with your head between your legs for a good 10 minutes whilst Yelena dealt with the line of customers that had gathered during your freak out. Your mind was swirling, running through your interaction with the Mob Boss, trying to block out the butterflies in your stomach clouding your memory by going through the things you said to him, then coming up with worst case scenarios of how he could have interpreted them & then convincing yourself you were now a target of the mob because you didn’t kiss his ring when you met him or some ridiculous custom that would have been expected of you. You had been so careful to stay away from them your entire life & then just like that the leader landed on your doorstop, flirted with you & then promised to return, he was bad for business. You were utterly fucked.
Knowing you had come face to face with the King of Brooklyn & actually enjoyed his company & even worse, wanted more of it made you revaluate your preconceived notions of how a mob boss acted & what they looked like. You also needed to address why you felt completely safe alone with the man, if all it took was sweet nicknames & them being easy on the eyes then you were a complete fool, surely there should have been signs that he was dangerous? The realisation that he was probably responsible for countless murders made you shudder in your spot but in truth you felt like no harm could come to you in his presence.
You managed to silence the overwhelming panic by thinking logically; he clearly wasn’t interested in hurting you & from all the flirting he was doing you figured it was more the opposite but was that worse? No, he wasn’t interested in hurting you, that’s all that mattered & by repeating that in your head whilst trying not to focus on how beautiful he was or think about getting lost in those ocean blue eyes you managed to calm yourself down somewhat. The residual feeling of dread however, you were stuck with, he had promised to return, that meant you now had to face him knowing his occupation & trying to reject his advances without ending up face down in the Hudson.
With a few deep breaths you rose to your feet, dusted your apron down & headed back out front to face the world, Yelena didn’t need to be dealing with you having a meltdown on top of taking peak time all on her own, the girl deserved a pay rise at the very least. Returning to the counter with a reassuring nod in her direction you were fully focused on doing what you did best, serving customers & brightening everyone’s day with your baked treats.
You finally flipped the sign to close for the day & let out a sigh of relief, one thing you could always count on was the bakery being so busy that it occupied all of your thoughts as you tackled the line of customers that at some points felt never ending, unfortunately you had the whole night in your apartment to spiral & overthink your impending visit from the man who was now a permanent fixture in your mind. You contemplated spending the evening prepping days’ worth of pastries & crashing in your father’s old apartment above the bakery that had been gathering dust, but that would leave you the rest of the week without anything to occupy your time, maybe you could finally work on clearing the upstairs out to finally renovate the space. Or not.
You decided on a moderate amount of prepping, enough for a couple of days but not to the point of leaving yourself nothing to do, Yelena caught you pacing the kitchen with your pad & pen interrupting the forward planning session currently taking place in your head.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ you looked over to her wiggling her eye brows at you.
She managed to pull a small smile from you to relieve a bit of your anxious energy, you blew out dramatically half laughing at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in, ‘You’d need a bank vault to afford them all Lena.’
‘How about you, me & a bottle of wine spend the night on your couch & we can go through it all before you wear a hole in the floor?’
Immediately halting your worn path you realised it was just what you needed, ‘That sounds really great actually.’
‘I’ll bring the wine.’
You shook your head, you knew you had a few bottles at home that needed drinking & there was no way you were letting your employee spend money trying to walk you through this predicament. ‘Absolutely not! My crisis my wine!’
For once she relented, ‘Fine, I’ll pick up a pizza.’
‘Deal.’ You’d add it to her next wage packet, you knew she never checked the slip so could get away with adding a pizza under the radar.
Usually you would feel utterly relieved once you crossed the threshold of your apartment each night, despite your somewhat noisy neighbour it was a serene escape compared to the bakery, you rarely make plans after your workday due to the sheer exhaustion of being on your feet all day, but an impromptu night with Yelena wasn’t ever declined especially when you didn’t have to get dressed up & go to a bar. You had managed to finish all the batches of prep, plus the extra needed for a big order that came in late for an office buffet so were dead on your feet arriving home.
In an attempt to ease some of the racked-up tension you decided to take a prolonged extra hot shower, focusing the jet of water onto your shoulders in lieu of a massage you would definitely appreciate after your day. You scrubbed & polished yourself to within an inch of your life before drying off & slipping into the navy cashmere loungewear set you had spent far too much money on in a ‘fuck it’ retail moment. Seeing the transaction on your bank statement on the Monday knocked you slightly queasy but as soon as you felt the softness against your smooth skin you concluded they were definitely worth every cent.
Knowing Yelena was due anytime you busied yourself around your home, watering plants, picking up laundry, putting back the various baking books on your ridiculously tall book shelf you were taking inspiration from the previous night until your buzzer sounded.
You pressed the button & could hear the stomping before you saw her, she appeared at your door, accompanied by apparently the world’s biggest pizza, how she managed to get that to your apartment & up the stairs without it going everywhere was a modern-day marvel as far as you were concerned.
You laughed out loud at the sight, ‘You do realise there’s only two of us?’
Her grin was infectious, ‘Can you believe this was a medium?’
You gawped at her statement, ‘Jesus, do they cater to giants?’
‘I bet you $20 I can finish your half & mine.’
You weren’t keen on the idea of her throwing up three quarters of a pizza on your sofa but really wanted to see if she could do it, ‘I’ll take that bet, make yourself at home & I’ll get the plates & wine.’
She shouted through to you in the kitchen as she cleared the space on the coffee table for the ginormous box ‘We up to episode 4?’
‘Yeah should be lined up from last time.’ You yelled back as you loaded the plates, napkins, glasses & bottle onto a tray.
‘Sweet, my girl Sharron for the win.’ In Yelena’s typical fashion she didn’t even wait for a plate & had managed an entire slice in the time it took you to come back to the lounge, where she put it all you’d never know.
‘We were blessed this season, Lattrice Royale, Chad Michaels, Phi Phi, literally the greats’, you made yourself comfortable as you poured out the wine & grabbed yourself some food.
After a delicious slice of pizza roughly the size of your head Yelena’s patience had run out, she paused the Drag Race episode you were enjoying & turned to you ready for a full rendition of the earlier events she had walked in on.
‘That’s enough for you.’ She practically wrestled the second slice out of your hand, throwing it back into the box.
‘Hey, I was eating that.’
‘No, I want to know what happened today.’
‘I can eat & tell you.’
‘No, you can’t. You never talk & eat, you chew & hold a finger up & don’t say a word until all the food is eaten. Come on, tell me now, eat after.’
‘True, ok, fine.’
You dabbed the corners of your mouth with a napkin & began telling her about your encounter with the mob boss, for the most part she stayed surprisingly quiet with the occasional question & although you wanted to omit the nicknames & warm words he said to you, you thought it would be better to give her the entire picture. The smile you were battling throughout managed to escape on occasion, but you kept it tight lipped for the most part, you couldn’t help the swirling butterflies when you told her about the wink.
‘How did it make you feel?’ The one thing you hadn’t expected from your little firecracker of a friend was for her to ask you about feelings, most people thought she was cold, ‘dead behind the eyes’ was one of Scott’s favourite things to note, being terrified of her as he was, but you always insisted she was incredibly warm & friendly.
You let out a long sigh, ‘hmmm, honestly? It felt nice, nice to have some attention from a guy who, let’s face it is smoking hot.’
‘Yeah, I’ll give him that, completely your type too.’
‘I know, right?’
She narrowed her eyes at you sensing more, ‘hmm, come on, what else?’
‘Stupidly enough, he made me feel completely safe, which is so dumb because I’ve spent my whole life not trusting strange men, not letting down my guard but I felt like I could with him & that no harm would come to me … that is until you told me who he was & now I feel even dumber for letting a pretty face completely eradicate all my instincts.’
You could see her thinking behind the understanding smile on her face, ‘I think your instincts are just fine, from what I have been told, yes he’s dangerous & you shouldn’t get involved in that world, but he is very protective of those he loves or are loyal to him.’
You took a big sip of wine to swallow those words, they really didn’t help the conflict brewing in your head, ‘And how would you come across this kind of information?’
‘My sister Nat, she’s involved in all that. I don’t speak to her very often, I didn’t want to get tangled in that life but after seeing him & especially after seeing him being clearly into you I rang her & asked about him.’
You hated yourself for wanting to know more about him, you shouldn’t, you should run in the complete opposite direction & not look back, he’s a dangerous man, an incredibly hot, rich, dangerous man. Maybe knowing more would be the nail in the coffin you needed to not get involved.
‘What exactly did she say?’
‘Not much, I kept my questions vague.’
‘And?’ You sounded hopeful, like she was about to say he had a heart of gold & to go for it.
‘Exactly what I said, don’t get involved.’ The sternness in your voice told you she knew more but wasn’t sharing.
‘I know. It’s just …’
She curtly cut you off, ‘Just what?’
‘He was so hot & interested, apparently that’s all it takes to question my morals & sanity.’
‘Honey, if you want hot & interested all we need to do is go to a club. Your hot little backside will have all the men you want lined up, no morals need to be tested.’
The line could have been as long as the Brooklyn bridge for all you cared, there was only one you were remotely interested in … god damn it.
The next day passed at a snail’s pace & all Bucky could think about was you in your bakery, hair in a bun & a sprinkle of flour on your cheek that he would dust off with a brush of his thumb before tasting the honey on your lips, he wondered if you were thinking about him too, hoping he would come through the door. He didn’t dare ask himself why one sample of your sweetness had him addicted.
Steve & Sam had been droning on for an hour about a Mr Rafino, the owner of the laundrette at the top of Grand Street, his accounts were clean as a whistle & he was an upstanding member of the community, it quietly comforted the mob boss that you apparently had good people surrounding you, but all Bucky wanted to hear about was you, he knew demanding your information first would have been an obvious tell, even for Steve to cotton on to. He half-heartedly flicked through the print outs, despite his plan being half thought out purely in an effort to save face & garner information about you, it actually made sense from a business perspective & the more he heard about these small business’ the more he was considering going ahead with investing in them all.
‘Ok finally at the very top of Grand Street, Honey Bunny’s Bakery.’
It was like Sam intentionally kept you until last trying his patience to its ultimate limit, Bucky tried not to sit up straighter at the mention of your bakery or intensely study the clipped together dossier they had been working on.
‘Now this is the money maker on the street, prime location, the accounts are very impressive, no rent or mortgage so overheads are minimal, running costs & cost of sales are the main outgoings as you would expect. Owner takes a minimal salary, does her own books, marketing, pretty much everything in house & has one employee, so wages relatively low to turnover. Speaking of turnover this place makes a killing, the sales are high relative to the size of the operation & although it is susceptible to poaching from rivals the customers tend to stay loyal.’
Bucky nodded along trying not to smile at how savvy you were at running your business but with only one employee he knew you were likely working all hours to keep things running as smoothly as you did, if you accepted his business offer he would make sure you employed more staff to take a break, maybe he could steal you away, fly to Paris to taste some of the world you recreate in your bakery each day, walk the banks of the Seine hand in hand & explore the Louvre to admire the paintings & sculptures, all whilst knowing he had the real masterpiece wrapped in his arms.
‘As for the owner, like the rest of the street not so much as a traffic violation on record, no police record whatsoever. She is an active member in the community, raises money for local women’s shelters, organised street parties, marches for race, women’s rights, gun reforms. Donates all her unsold goods to the local hospital each night, hand delivers them to a nurse who she knows down there for the staff & patients. ‘
An angel, just as he thought you would be, he knew what he needed to do; formulate a business plan tonight, go to the bakery in the morning & invite you for a meeting to discuss his plan. He would impress you with the office, the plan & as the deal was being done he could spend the time getting to know you, sewing himself into the fabric of your world & then you would be his.
‘Do you think these people would want investment from the Mob? They are clearly law-abiding citizens, why would they be interested in getting into bed with the bad guys.’
Why Steve decided to use that phrase Bucky didn’t know but he was a hairs breath away from having his head slammed into the sold wooden desk they were sat around, his jaw was creaking it was tensed that intensely.
‘He has a point; do you really want to potentially ruin their reputations & livelihood because you want to make clean money? They seem good people, maybe we’re best staying away & go about this differently.’
Of course, he wouldn’t be funnelling anything into your business that was illegal, yours would be a real investment, there wasn’t a chance in hell he would taint you in any way with laundering cash, he could see the potential of you & your bakery & would offer you the opportunity.
‘Well we’re not exactly going in with the horse’s head approach, it can be done subtly, we can set up a holding company to invest rather than go direct. They aren’t then directly associated with us & their reputations remain intact, we take over the business operation & not the day to day running, we can do all the laundering away from the premises on the books & through banking deposits & they can plead innocence if anything went wrong.’
‘Hmm It’s your call.’ Sam sounded sceptical but if the business’ said no he didn’t care, they would go about it the old-fashioned way if they had to threaten them & take over the whole business instead, your answer however would be final.
‘I’ll work my way through all this in more detail then make my decisions, ultimately we will run this completely separately from our real business. I’ll have Thor set up the holding company & funnel some money into it for the time being & then I’ll deal with the investment decisions & proposals to the owners.’
‘You’ll do it?’ Sam was ready to send his friend to a head doctor after all this, Bucky usually made the decision & then everyone else would execute it so for him to want to be this involved was a growing concern.
‘Of course not Samuel, I will work on the proposals & someone else can do the meetings so they aren’t aware of who the investment is from.’
Bucky stood up gathering all the documents in front of him into his leather folio trying to encourage them to leave him in peace, ‘If that’s all gentlemen I have somewhere to be.’
A total lie & Sam looked like he knew that, Bucky just wanted to go home to go over the information about you with a fine-tooth comb ready to pop by your bakery first thing to make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.
[Next Chapter]
Tag List: @matchat3a @hallecarey1 @oliverqueen66-blog @broadwaybabe18 @meowmeowyoongles @abaker32 @glows-n-the-dark @barnesml @getofffmydick @omegaevans
#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic series#marvel#bucky barnes smut#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky barnes#mob boss#sebastian stan
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
Own
William Afton x reader
Warnings: theres a moment where a mom thinks her daughter was murdered but she is alive, springlocks, some suggestive dialouge, william is toxic, mentions of the ‘rumors’ aka murder
William adjusted his tie, raising his chin and swallowing hard so his adams apple was prevalent. He looked at himself in the mirror. There wasn’t much he bothered to do up for this date but he did grab one of the ties he rarely wore. It had a silver lining, something he saved for fancy occasions, not work.
He hadn’t been on a first date in…a long time. Not since his ex wife. You knew the rumors, yet you still decided to go on a date with him. Shows how awful your taste was. It was being played in his favor though so he couldn’t exactly complain.
He straightened his back and then checked his watch. He had to leave and get you.
-
You were fussing over your hair. Do you leave this piece out? Put it back? You let out an annoyed sigh. You never thought you would be going on a date with William Afton. You hadn’t thought much about what he would want you to look like. What did you want to look like?
“You look fine,” your sister said, walking behind you.
“You look awesome!” Jill, her daughter exclaimed. Jill was the whole reason you and William met. You took her to Freddy’s all the time when your sister was at work. “Mr. Afton is gonna love you.”
“I’m sure he already does Jill,” your sister said. There was a knock on the door. You raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. Jill raced to the door, throwing it open.
“Hi Mr. Afton!”
“Hey Jill,” he said, feigning kindness. You walked down the stairs and he looked up, a smug look on his face that quickly turned to charm. You gave him a hesitant look.
“You clean up nice Afton.”
“Will,” he corrected. You nodded.
“I’ll see you later guys. Don’t wait up.”
“You be nice to my sister!” And then the door was shut. You were flush with the door and flush with his chest. He hadn’t bothered to move backwards to give you any space. You looked up at him, determined to hold your own.
“Ready to go Will?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, adjusting his jaw. Then he smiled.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
===
“Hey Henry!”
“You’re back. Joyus.” You rolled your eyes and slid onto the counter. You had spent more and more time at Freddy’s in the few weeks that you adn William had been going out. “Have you ever thought about working here? You’re here more than some of my employees.” He was messing with some wires and bolts.
“No, I'm against dating my boss,” you said. “Anyway, where’s the boss?”
“I’m the boss.” You gave Henry a look. He rolled his eyes. “Williams getting ready for the show. He likes an extra couple minutes with the bunny suit.” You gave him a distorted look but he didn’t give you more information.
“Does he not fit?” Henry adjusted his glasses.
“No, I'm just convinced he likes it in there.” You scoffed. You put your head against the wall, bringing your foot up onto the counter. You looked across the small diner. There was a birthday party going on. You didn’t know the kids. Jill was at home with her mom. It was just you this time around.
“Who’s birthday party?” you asked.
“Little Jeremy,” Henry said like you knew who that was.
“Casey!” You and Henry turned away from each other. There was an older lady standing in the middle of the chaos. She had a ghostly white look on her face as she looked around. She took off the hood of one of the kids and her face only grew more anxious. “Casey!” Henry stood up. “Where’s my daughter?!” she asked, voice loud. She wasn’t asking anyone in particular. Henry rushed over.
“What does she look like ma’am?” he asked, voice even and calm.
“I knew I shouldn’t have brought her here!” she screamed, inconsolable.
William emerged from the back room at the commotion. Walking in front of him was a little blonde girl. The woman let out the loudest sigh of relief you had ever heard and rushed up to the little girl, who you assumed was Casey.
“She got lost looking for the bathroom,” William said with ease. The woman was practically crying.
You rushed up to William. You didn’t have an intention to do anything. You just needed to be closer to the problem, hopefully understand more of what just happened.
“You can never do that again,” the woman was whispering. You turned to William. He was clam. Collected. Not a hair out of place. It was eerie.
“I’m sorry mommy,” Casey whispered.
“What happened?” you asked William.
“Nothing,” he said and you believed him instantly, despite your gut telling you otherwise. You nodded once. Henry went to console the rest of the guests and you grabbed William’s hand. You moved aside to the counters again.
“William?”
“How many times do I have to tell you. Call me Will.” His jaw was set, voice even.
“Will. What are you hiding?” you whispered but instantly regretted it. His lips turned up to a small grin.
“Nothing darlin.” He put his hand on your upper arm and pulled you closer to him. He kissed your forehead. All was well again. You looked at Henry. He was consoling everyone well. The situation had been practically defused.
-
Everyone left within the hour.
“We’re losing business,” William observed. There was barely anyone in for dinner. You nodded once.
“I think you need more animatronics. Maybe you could make a fox!” you suggested. He smirked and turned to you. You were sharing some of the leftover pizza. It was stale and cold but neither of you were in a place to complain.
“Would you wear that one?”
“I already told Henry, I don’t wanna sleep with my boss.”
“It’d be fun,” he said suggestively. You rolled your eyes.
“I’ll keep you in business. Buying these pizzas.” He nodded once, chuckling. He could be at ease with you. His mind was quiet for a moment. You were sitting on the counter and he was standing beside you. After a moment of silence he moved aside and spread your legs, placing himself between them. “You got somethin to say Will?”
“I think I’m gonna keep you,” he muttered, his accent thick. You looked at him and he looked at you, like he owned you. You found you didn’t mind it much.
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna teach you how to get out of a springlock.”
“What?”
“Come here.” He pulled you off the counter and walked to the back. You furrowed your brows, following him hesitantly. He brought you in the back where the suits were waiting. They were motionless, eyes wide. “Stand back.”
“Why do I need to know how to get out of a spring lock?” you asked quietly.
“In case I get stuck in one someday and need an extra pair of hands.”
“What about Henry?” William opened the suit up. You jumped. He turned to you and put his hand on your cheek gingerly, looking down at you.
“You need to know how.”
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
late night run
Summary: Your late night grocery run turns into something a lot more interesting.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader
Warning: RPF, bit of smut, FLUFF
Word Count: 1600+
A/N: I wonder how would you react if Henry is in the same grocery as you are? Not beta'd. I suffer for my mistakes ☺️
You had the most terrible day. Emphasis on terrible when your car got towed, your boss is being a bitch to you, your laptop just chose to not work out of all days of the fucking week when you have a report to hand over tomorrow. You want to scream your lungs out but that'll do nothing good. Bouts of sweat is forming on your forehead and you must look undeniably red right now with all the rage.
You ran to the pantry hoping to find your comfort food just waiting for you to eat it but no. No, this day just keeps on getting worse.
As pissed as you are, you pick up your keys, climb in and start your car. Hoping this late night grocery run could calm your nerves.
Once you parked your car, you made a beeline to the cereal isle, scouring every box for you find your sweet comfort food. Until one single box comes into view, the last one with your favorite flavor. Strawberry pop tarts.
The grin on your face fades away when you noticed a huge, calloused hand on the same box. You look up and he's also looking at your hand on the same box, his suit doesn't even fit this environment, and by the looks of him, he can buy a cargo of pop tarts if he wants. You don't even know why would he want your last box of pop tarts and why his hand is still on it.
"I touched it first." You said, eyeing him up and down. You don't get intimidated that often and this time is no different but his sharp stare almost made your knees buckle.
He chuckles softly and you can hear the hum of his voice so deep you can hear it rumbling. You didn't let go of your sanity food, not even at Mr. Gorgeous Face and Body right here.
"Miss, just please let me have this." He whines and pouts thinking he could get you with that. You roll your eyes and scoffs.
"You know what, Sir? If your girlfriend or wife is craving pop tarts, you can have your people get it for you. This. Is. Mine." You snatch the box from his hand and luckily he lets you. Your just a few steps away when you hear a voice so cute you'd want to melt.
"Are there any strawberry pop tarts, Uncle Henny?" You can't help but whip your head back and now you see Mr. Gorgeous Face and Body, also known as Henry knelt down in front of a girl. Her hair is braided, tiny freckles adorn her face and she had the cutest gap tooth. Her head hung low while she rubs her teddy bear on her cheeks, already knowing she can't get the box of tarts which is now in your hands.
You feel guilty all of a sudden and you walk to the girl, handing her your sanity food. God help your soul. You should just probably buy vodka.
"Here you go, bunny." You knelt in front of her and whispered, coaxing the little girl to chin up. As soon as she sees the box of pop tarts, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. You can definitely feel the same thing but this time you need to let go and make the girl happy.
You feel Henry's eyes on you and you looked back at him, your brows are raised, not giving him the satisfaction. His lip turned into a smirk and he shakes his head.
"Thank you." She shyly says and tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. Your heart melts right then and there. You rub her head, stood up and turned on your heel. Your anger seem to be simmering down despite not getting what you came here for.
You're almost at the liquor aisle when the girl came rushing and held your hand. You look down and smile at her.
"Can you be my Uncle Henny's date? It's always me he takes out for dates. I want him to date someone else."
You chuckle and you can hear Henry just behind both of you, obviously snooping.
"Your uncle doesn't have a girlfriend? That does seem hard to believe."
You held her hand and she swayed into the rhythm of a nursery rhyme in her head, that's for sure.
"I didn't like her last girlfriend. She never shares pop tarts. Not like you."
You snort and pinch the girls cheeks just because she's being the cutest. You reach for the vodka and clip it in between your armpit. Thinking back to the loads of work you need to do back home, you might as well drown it with alcohol.
You said goodbye to the girl and just gave Henry a tight smile. The last relationship you had was disastrous and you're nowhere near ready to start one. Even with some as handsome and kind as Henry.
You said your thank yous and the cashier smiled and commented about you being drunk tonight. You wink at her and wave at the cute little girl. She's talking to the cashier you just checked out from and in no time, the little girl is screaming your name across the grocery store.
"Goodbye, pretty Y/N!"
You blow her a kiss and something in you just said to look at her Uncle. He's staring at you like he wants to undress you right then and there and all the while he looks ridiculous with his tight suit while leaning on the counter. You shake your head and pop the cap off your vodka and drank straight from it. The sting burns down a path from your throat to your stomach.
You come home to an empty house, boatloads of work and a lot of stress. The bottle of vodka is half empty at this point after an hour passed. You space out and think about that crooked grin you saw on the grocery store. How can a man look fine like that, you don't know. What you know is he fucks like an animal, for sure. Those big arms, thighs and oh my God, that ass? Peachy.
You're ripped away from your dirty thoughts with a knock on your door. You look at the clock and it's almost midnight. You also lost track of time and surely will have a revenge hangover in the morning. You try to keep your body upright so you can see who's at the door.
You lazily open the door and there he stood, burly and all muscle, a blue cap to hide his face and a black sweatshirt hugging every ridge and curve of his body. You must be dreaming. He can't possibly know where you live but then he removed his cap, his curls now lose and falling freely on top of his forehead, it really was him.
"I wanted to personally thank you."
Your alcohol clouded mind can't think of anything else so you burst out laughing. He looks at you and you snort like a pig. Not a nice trait to show someone but then liquid courage gets in the way.
"It's nothing. Your niece is the sweetest little girl. She deserves all the strawberry pop tarts in the world."
You smile at him and he stared at you, the same undressing stare he gave you at the store.
"You deserve it too. I promise I'll give you boxes of pop tarts but for now, are you okay with just..."
His face inches towards you and the encounter made you stumble but his arms saved you from falling. Your lips are now so close, you can smell the faint smell of cigarette and the obvious smell of expensive cologne.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his eyes searching your face. You already have no control over your body so you nod. And as you kiss each other with passion and softness combined, your hand goes to cling on his neck, as you feel safely caged in his arms.
The soft slam of the door behind both of you, an indication of your make out bubble being private. Your tongue danced together, like two married flesh that's been waiting for the other. He moans and you run your fingers on his chest. He breaks the kiss to give you feather kisses on the neck. You shivered with anticipation but then he stopped, holding your head in between his huge hands.
"There is no way I'm fucking you intoxicated. But damn, thank God for pop tarts."
His words of promise turned into words of truth when he cuddled you on the sofa, talking about his life, asking you about many things and making you laugh with his corny jokes.
The morning came and your head wants to split in two, but then you realized you're asleep next to Henry. His long lashes flutter while his eyes are closed and you can't help but smile.
Another door bell interrupts your thoughts and you scramble to open the door. There you find a delivery man with one big brown box at his feet. He asked you to sign and went to leave shortly. The box is not that heavy so you were able to put it on the kitchen counter. You open it and you're welcomed with a heavenly box of strawberry pop tarts.
You gasped and looked at where Henry is sleeping.
"You didn't!" There's ton of pop tarts in here and you can't help but squeal. Henry opens his eyes and looks at you, smiling.
"Now that's out of the list." He says, mumbling.
"What's next on your list?" You walk to him, still holding a box of your sanity food. He stares at you with so much intensity, you want to jump and ride him right then and there.
"Next on the list is fucking you proper."
#henry cavill x you#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill smut#henry cavill fanfiction#henrycavill**#henry cavill x reader#fluff#rpf fluff#khaelwrites
813 notes
·
View notes
Text
Canidae - Geto Suguru
Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words
part two
Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here
(S/N) = stage name
It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.
You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.
“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.
“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.
Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.
Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.
“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.
“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.
“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.
“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.
“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.
“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.
“So, your name is (S/N)?”
“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.
Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.
“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”
“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.
“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.
“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”
“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”
A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.
“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”
It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.
Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.
“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.
“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.
Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.
Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.
As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.
You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.
Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.
Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.
Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.
It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.
But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.
The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.
And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.
“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.
Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.
Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.
With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.
Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.
You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.
But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.
“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.
“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.
“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.
“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.
“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”
“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.
“I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.
“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”
“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.
“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”
“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.
“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”
“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.
“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.
Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.
“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.
“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.
“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.
Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.
“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”
“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.
“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”
“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.
Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.
Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.
“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.
“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.
“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”
“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.
“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”
“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.
It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.
“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”
“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.
“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”
Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.
“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.
“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.
“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.
“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”
“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.
“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”
A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.
Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.
“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”
“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.
“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.
“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.
“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.
“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”
“I helped him do it.”
“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.
“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.
“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”
Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.
“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.
“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.
“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”
“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.
“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”
“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.
“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.
“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.
“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.
There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.
“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.
“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.
“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”
“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.
“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”
“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.
“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.
Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.
“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.
“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”
“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”
“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.
Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.
You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.
Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.
Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.
Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.
Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.
“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.
His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.
“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.
Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.
“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”
“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.
“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.
“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.
“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.
Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.
“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”
“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”
“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.
“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.
“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.
“Suguru please-”
“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.
“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.
“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.
“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.
“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.
“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.
“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”
“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”
Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.
“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.
“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.
“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”
“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.
“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”
“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”
“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”
“Sugu!”
“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”
“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”
“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.
Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.
“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.
“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.
“How did you-”
“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”
The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.
Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.
“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.
“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.
Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.
“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.
“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.
“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”
#tw: pseudo-incest#tw: yandere#tw: needles#tw: drugging#jujutsu kaisen#geto x reader#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#yandere jujutsu kaisen
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bunny Boy: Timeskip.
In which as time has passed, Jungkooks sick mind might have finally infected yours as well- tainting his angel to one day go down to hell with him.
Tags/Warnings: graphic description of murder, touching without permission, graphic descriptions of disgust? dunno what to call it, Bunny Boy Jungkook being himself, we all missed his psycho ass lets be real, arson, someone falls down a construction site, oopsie, graphic descriptions of murder pt2, gore, blood, lack of remorse, psychosis, very twisted view of the world, you know me by now, smut, protected smut of course, the usual shabang, kids pls don't read, you'll do it anyways won't you
----
Jungkook has somehow lied himself to the top of the foodchain.
There's still a lot of things he can't afford, but then again, considering he's basically lived in a rat's nest with you a year ago makes his new home in the high top apartment complex in the middle of Seoul feel as luxurious as the most expensive suite available for rent in the entire country. He can sometimes even sneak in a bottle of champagne at the end of the month- a treat he loves to share with you at night, always amused by the way you turn bold the more your alcohol level rises. He enjoys seeing you so out of it, weirdly enough, but then again; you're at his mercy every second of the time you're sober as well.
You're allowed to exist, because he want's you to, after all.
But you've come to feel very much a sense of comfort with every controlling touch of his- a reassurance if you will, that no matter the case, you're still wanted at his side, still allowed to live and spend your life with him. It gives you confidence to have him show you off to his coworkers; his fond gaze and words dipped in honey enough to make you fall to his very feet- but then again, at least in the public eye, you have to uphold a certain sense of common courtesy.
Although you know, he wouldn't mind it either way.
Right now however, you know he'd be fuming, the hand of his coworker feeling heavy like led on your shoulder, not at all wanted there at all. You don't even know why he's here, why he's invaded your home like this, bottle of wine in hand as if that would somehow make it any better. You've tried to tell him he's not wanted here in the nicest way's you could think of, getting desperate as you realize you're not at all as good at talking as Jungkook is- because he's still here, still in your kitchen, still touching you and infecting you with whatever germs living on his skin, and you feel the need to vomit. No one is ever allowed to touch you but Jungkook, he always makes sure to keep you at a distance with people, hell, you don't even shake hands with anyone you meet-
"Listen, I know this may seem bold-" He starts, voice nowhere near as silky smooth as Jungkook's always was. It has a rough undertone like sandpaper, scratching and making your grit your teeth as you force your brows to stay where they are, not allowed to give away your disgust of the entire situation. Somehow everything about this man is absolutely vile to you, from the overbearing cologne he's wearing, to the tie that's horribly done- you always tie Jungkook's, you always make sure its nice and this man just seems so out of place here. He's too tall, too broad, too bold, too close. "But I've seen the way that Jungkook acts around you. Bosses you around." He says, and you can't help the way your expression changes slightly. "You don't deserve this. A woman should be treated nice- I could treat you nice." He offers, and you swallow down the bile rising as you realize what he's saying. He takes a step closer- and you take two back, until your back meets the kitchen counter. "You know I'm right." He says, and you decide to flee.
"I- I'm gonna uhm, heat up some f-food.." You say, escaping his presence by running behind the counter, occupying yourself with whatever you can find there. He walks past you with a sickening smile, something that makes you feel even worse in your skin, as you have to realize how he's tainting your home with his presence. He's touching things, leaving his traces everywhere, as he walks into the bathroom to relieve himself.
Jungkook won't be back home until the next four hours pass.
You have to protect your home.
You have to act this time.
--
He's horribly drunk- and he won't leave your house.
Your patience is wearing thin, having thought that once he was intoxicated you could get rid of him by talking him into taking a cab home- but you soon come to the conclusion that this was just the easy way out.
Was the world testing you? Were the gods testing if you had what it took to be worthy of staying at Jungkooks side? He has killed for you before, you remember.
Maybe you had to even it out.
The man on the couch is snoring, by now asleep as you remember his name. Yamato was his name- a former classmate of yours from long ago, a young man who never really gave you any attention at all. Not like he could compare to Jungkook ever- no one could, you remind yourself. Jungkook was your soulmate, your everything. And this house was now tainted in another man's presence. You shuddered at the thought, suddenly snapping.
The oven is quick to heat up as you stuff it with all the backing sheets you can find, almost burning your hand in the process as you become frantic. There's no use in caring for this house anymore, you didn't need any physical possessions anyways as long as you had Jungkook. He would make it better, he would figure things out. As soon as he was with you again, you could breathe- and for now, you had to try and not suffocate.
Smoke blurrs your vision, dipping everything in a faded hue as the fire alarm doesn't go off. Its not supposed to- Jungkook had forgotten to change the batteries in it, never really having gotten around to change them after taking them out and realizing he didn't have the right one's at hand. It was a silly mistake on his side really; or maybe a higher power setting the right scene for you to act on your love for him. You finally realized why Jungkook in the past had done the things he did. You only did them out of love as well- you only did this because it was necessary. It needed to be done.
The flames are now licking his up the walls, eager to eat up the wallpaper you both had chosen when you had moved into this place half a year ago. You can't be bothered with them turning black and peeling off the walls, rather fixated by the sight as Yamato on the couch suddenly coughs, falling to the ground from the lack of oxygen in his lungs. Your own burn as well, but you can't move, having to watch him as he looks at you in horror. "What're you doing?!" He rasps out, coughing. "Don't stand there-!" He yells.
Jungkook never yells at you, you think.
"My mom always said that we all get what we deserve in life." You say, as Yamato struggles to breathe. "But she always called her marriage a disappointment she had to settle for." You explain, sitting on the floor now as to not fall over from the dizziness in your head. "I've always been a good kid." You say, unsure who you're even telling this by now, since the man in front of you had stopped moving while the flames start to lick on his clothes, hungry as they devour the black slacks he's wearing. "And you're right." You say, smiling as you crawl over to him before you scoot back then the fire burns your arm. "I deserve better." You say, coughing before getting up. "While you all continue to be dissapointed." You say, finally grabbing your phone, and calling Jungkook- knowing by the sound of the faint firetruck somewhere in the distance, you don't need to call for them no more. As soon as he picks up, you're grinning from ear to ear. "Jungkookie.." You drawl, before laying on your back, coughing violently, phone falling out of your hands.
"Angel?" Jungkook asks, before he hears you coughing. "Angel-"
"Jungkook, isn't that your apartment?" Min Yoongi asks, a coworker and higher up of his, who's standing at the window that has a large view over the city- and he's right. The bright orange light, shining way too saturated to just be the living room light, was exactly your apartment you shared with him. He'd chosen is because of this specific reason- he can see it from his own office downtown. "Go." Yoongi says, and Jungkook can't even bother to put on a jacket as he runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator, people staring as he runs past them as quickly as his feet can carry him. There's an ambulance, then two, then an array of firetrucks dashing past him, way faster than he is, and for a moment he thinks about jumping up on one of the ladders the cars carry- but they're too fast for him, so he just ignores all the red lights, almost getting run over on his way.
His mind is empty, no thoughts can make their presence known inside his head.
He can taste iron on his breath as he finally makes it to the scene, police holding him back as he watches the flames reach out of your shattered living room window. "Sir-"
"That's MY fucking Apartment burning, with MY fucking fiancé in it-!" He barks at them, unknowingly having started to cry already at the realization of your body still inside. What if you're dead? What if you're already gone? He already has the plan inside of his head to go after you, to reach you, when theres a stretcher carried out, a body on it. "Please- Angel! Let me through, I need to-" He barks, before the police nods to one another, letting him through so he can finally reach you inside the ambulance.
"Sir-" The paramedic asks, but Jungkook shuts her off instantly, sitting down on the small seat at the side, eyes wide open as they stare at the burns on your skin, and closed eyes- an oxygen mask on your face.
"Fiancé." He simply breathes out. "I'm.. her fiancé. We're supposed to get married in December this year.." He says almost without any sound, whispering it like the words were too delicate to say out loud.
"And you will, we'll make sure she come's through all fine." The paramedic hits the small window to the front of the car, signalling to start driving. "We've given her some drugs, that's why she's unconscious. Its safer this way until we know the extend of injuries." The paramedic tells Jungkook. "But I'm confident she'll be just fine." The lady smiles, as Jungkook can't help but reach out and hold your hand, softly, as if you'll break if he touches too hard.
---
At the hospital, he doesn't sleep. And when he does, it's always the same dream.
A memory he cherishes.
"It's so high up." You wonder as you stand on the balcony, dressed in a large white shirt and some shorts, ready for bed. Your hair is a bit unruled, but your face is bare of any makeup- relaxed, cheeks a bit red from the slight wind blowing. He liks you most like this, raw and unpolished, just for his eyes to see. He knows that his next action is the right one, as he looks at you like this. Walking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your smaller form, relishing in the feeling of you almost captured by him like this, with his head on your back, before he kisses the back of your neck.
"I know." He answers your statement a bit later. "It's nice, isn't it?" He asks.
You nod. "Like we're angels in heaven, looking down onto earth." You say, and he smiles, amused by your still so innocent way of looking at the world around you. You were his angel, after all. Untainted. Pure.
And all his.
"Oh?" You wonder, looking at a small black box he holds in front of you now, his head next to yours as his chin was placed on your shoulder. He's not asking you, after all. He's simply informing you.
"I finally managed to buy it." He says, as he opens the box, a small ring inside, that he pulls out, to put onto your finger. As he does this, you notice a similar one on his hand as well. "Now I can do this right." He hums warmly against your back, and you feel mesmerized by the sight of the small stone reflecting the city lights around you.
"Jungkook.." You start, unsure what to say.
"Just say yes." He mumbles against the shell of your ear, as you giggle.
"Of course I say yes. What else could I say to you?" You say, and he chuckles along, holding you a bit tighter.
"Smart girl." He simply says.
But right now, all he can really see is you in that hospital bed.
He's unsure what to think, considering he's by now been informed that there was another person in your apartment, another man at that, and he knows you'd never betray him like this. The only thing he can now think of is, why. Why was he there, and why did the fire start?
As you open your eyes, he leans over you, eyes locked with yours as you can't even manage to look around before he speaks. "What happened?" He asks, voice calm and neutral as he asks you that question, hands pressed against the mattress on either side of your head where he leans. "Why was Yamato at our house? While I wasn't home?" He questions, and your voice is raspy as you answer, able to hold his gaze.
"He came.." You start, clearing your throat a little. "Over with a bottle of wine. Said he.. didn't know you weren't home." You explain, and Jungkooks skin grows cold as you suddenly tear up. "I'm sorry Jungkook, I didn't know what else to do-" You start, as he shakes his head, holding your face as he forces you to focus.
"No no no, no freaking out yet. What. Happened." He asks, presses on, as you hiccup your way through the entire situation.
"He kept- kept touching me, Jungkook he- he used the bathroom, he talked bad about you, he kept looking at me-" You say, and Jungkook grows more restless. You wouldn't.. would you? "I had to." You say, suddenly calm again, as you close your eyes, evening your breathing. "He ruined it, Jungkook. He ruined our home, he should've never been there, I couldn't live there no longer, not after he was in there." You say. "I'm so sorry." You mumble.
"You set the fire?" Jungkook asks, now eerily soft-spoken as his hand caresses your cheek. "For what angel? Hm? What did he say?" He wonders.
"That you.. boss me around. That he could do better. Treat me better." You say, growing tired again. "You've done so much for me, I had to.." You mumble, not really fully there yet. "Jungkook, do you still love me?" You ask, and Jungkook connects the dots himself.
"Of course." He says, smiling down on you before he presses a kiss to your lips. "Now more then ever before."
---
It should've all ended there.
But now its Jungkook, who's got himself dug knee-deep into trouble. "So, all you gotta do is write a nice little amount to my bank account, and we're good." The man says, waving his phone around as if to taunt Jungkook. "After all, you wanna keep being able to spoil your soon-to-be wife, no?" He chuckles, and that's when Jungkook snaps, walking forwards.
Technically, to his own defense, he only wanted to intimidate the man.
Somehow, it felt weird to him, how he could basically re-imagine the way the guy must have popped open like the grape he'd stepped on this morning when he'd hit the concrete below, even though he hadn't seen it himself. But he had it coming, Jungkook assures himself, it was an accident, he chants in his head, as he feels his heart rate slow down, the phone equally destroyed next to the man on the ground- and the security cameras only capturing video, not sound.
Yoongi down below gasps as he opens the door and spots the pile of guts and bones on the ground, having been alerted by the loud crash. A look upwards was all he needs to connect 2 and 2. "Call an ambulance. Police too." He calls up calmly. "Lets hope you're good at acting." He mumbles, holding a hand to his mouth as he averts his gaze, before ushering the other curious office workers back inside, but not before falling forwards, stumbling so to say over the step into the office building.
Sneaking the SD card into his pocket.
#bts imagine#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#bts smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#bunny boy asks#bunny boy kook
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ måneskin scenario: getting to know ethan
↳ NOTE. by popular demand and because i’m entirely enthralled by the phenomenon that is ethan torchio myself, here we go givin’ the gorgeous drummer some love.
word count. 5.5k
TAGS. no warnings all fluff, fem!oc, slice of life, photographer!reader, first date-ish, shy flirting, ot4 is part of the plot, ethan being sexy in heels
Jacob had enough of that twilight bullshit and joined a glam rock band. At least that’s what you thought seeing Ethan around for the first time. Setting up the kit, carrying his whiny band members around, fixing his ruffle shirt, chugging some water: Big gig tonight, extra long setlist. Five minutes later, complaining about his brocade shoes being hard to kick the bass drum with. Even later, silently nodding along to an impassioned Damiano speech crafted to boost the morale, and posing for your camera in his silver jumpsuit. Friendly to approach all the way, but without initiating stable eye contact even once.
One thing’s for sure. As your favorite professor said back at university: Someone may be photogenic and unearthly as hell in terms of looks, and even be intimidating — but also so damn shy, you won’t see their eyes a single time. „Gotta work with it and not against. Then it gets interesting“. In essence, the takeaway from that course. Which does come in handy now. Ethan seems like the kind of guy you really have to get into for a more intimate-feeling picture.
Sure, many people in front of your camera have all kinds of introverted personalities anyway, wearing sunglasses in particular. So much about eye contact in the first place. And the aesthetic is priority, not studying character. Although you really are a fan of that, it’s a huge part of photography if anything. Alas, you’re here to „capture nothing more but the spirit of italo-rock, the attitude, the hedonism!“ (the exact words of your boss) for a music magazine after all. Really, nothing more? You paid attention to how he worded it. Fair enough. Rock spirit, that’s all, the exciting parts.
Ethan surely has it. Drumming on everything he can find during rehearsal breaks („music is everywhere“) with his sticks, even Thomas’ amplifier. He’s actually dorkier than you thought, less composed when he’s in his element. First impressions do deceive. The hair’s hard to miss, too. It’s the central motif that attracts you. You may or may not have taken over 50 shots of it just because. Ethan is a bad bitch and he better know. You climb around the venue to get any salient angle of Måneskin you can think of. Even from all the way back, last row. You don’t want to annoy them being all up in their face constantly. You’re hired to get all the good shots, they’ve been a band for seven years already, professionals in the making. Doesn’t mean you have to stand below the edge of the stage and never change position.
Even from back there, the silver reflects beautifully at the back of the stage. The fashion’s all designer and it shows, but Ethan couldn’t look bad in any of the shots even if he tried or wore the plainest black suit (hell, that would be just as beautiful in fact). Just how long is that hair anyway. All the way down to the solar plexus, must be 24 inches or more. 25, even. Many rockers would wear it that way, but Ethan seems particularly interesting with how he touches it, how he behaves with it. There we go again with the character study, you can’t help wondering.
But really. It’s any photographer’s dream when someone moves their hair around so damn naturally. Gives a great variety to how it frames and shades the face. You like to play with light all the time. And hey, why ask for eye contact when he does even better posing in other ways. The body, too, Ethan’s posture is great. Victoria and Thomas often bend to really get into their power chords, Damiano frequently hunches forward for a belt. But Ethan’s throned at his kit like some royals taught him to be a good boy. Back straighter than a pole, how the hell.
No glance in your direction still, even if you return from your last row spot to move around on stage with the camera. Which gives the band a motivation boost and chances to try out gestures up close, too, so even better. Hey, maybe it doesn’t annoy them. You can actually get used to it, this way of photographing them is all dynamic. Nearing the end of the first rehearsal, you’re all busy maneuvering between Thomas and Damiano to get a nice semi-profile from Ethan’s left side. Gotta work with it not against, you chant to yourself as a mantra, and it seems easier to stick to than you thought.
How glossy all that hair is commands all the attention of your shutter release in and of itself. That he takes good care of it and has been growing it since forever shows a dedicated guy. It’s actually quite wavy. The band arrived in the pouring rain and Ethan’s curly strands at the crown and nape of the head were definitely showing — super cute. An army of stylists took on the resulting humidity frizz. They whipped out the straightening iron and protective spray, and even now before the big performance, Ethan brushes his hair out in front of you, and sweeps it around with his fingers anyway. You take pictures of the bits you find most candid, and decide to rather perfect single shots instead of making several in a row. The more you photograph him, the more you want to discover his essence in one picture. His sheer presence almost begs for it, it’s ridiculous.
Victoria on the other hand has no problems with rapid-fire releases and comes close to your lens to pull funny faces. She’s got some of the coolest poses you’ve ever seen with her bass, and hops around the stage like a bunny to the beat. Thomas is a virtuoso and pro who keeps on doing what he does when you make him pose, and Damiano can flirt with any camera ever. He even lowers his red leather jacket off his collar bones for you to have a great shot. He’s promising and most definitely a born divo, your boss will be happy with those pictures most definitely.
Then again. Behind that supposed hedonism is so much hard work and thought. Damiano even gives you ideas for angles during the second rehearsal. „Hm, maybe stand on the amplifier?“ Eagle perspective, not a bad idea at all. After trying out said suggestions with the help of triggered stage security making sure you don’t fall off the construction („eh, Damiano always suggests the most reckless things to staff, don’t mind him“), you find yourself concentrating on what goes on at the back of the stage all over again.
Ethan is busy practicing a new solo which has you curious about whether it’s for an upcoming album. Though again — the shoes cause trouble. Ethan complains again, the music stops. That could very well be the reason why he seems so preoccupied today, or is it? The manager tells the stylist, and the stylist hurries, voilà, Ethan has a new pair of shoes brought in. Ones with a thicker sole, bit of a chunky heel, and laced up rather than being slippers, a drummer’s worst nightmare as you have learned today.
You wait until he changed. Then snap some more pictures how he continues practicing calmly, and the sound did improve since he can kick the bass drum better now. Now you position yourself across the stage all over, in the empty audience ranks. Ethan is the most radiant and confident when you just take a step back. But well, he still sweeps his hair around a whole lot and looks even more tense-looking than Damiano who’s doing vocal warmups and jumping jacks, „Come on guys, come on, we’re starting in 30 minutes!“.
You can tell he does it more often when he’s nervous. And that means he does it very often. People would probably assume it’s vanity, or the fact that the hair gets in the way. You can see that for him it’s a place of distraction, maybe safety. A gesture like an anchor. He’s used to it being long just like his eye shadow being dark and smoky all day. He knows the drums by heart, if it falls in his face no need to shake it away. And besides. The strands reach below his shoulder blades, it stays down his back if he doesn’t move around too much. He could easily tie it up as well. All those things go through your mind without you even knowing why.
To switch things up a little, you photograph Thomas fooling around with Victoria at the snack bar, stuffing fries up their noses, and already see the lighting technicians do their final check. Some of them you know briefly, you made shots at this venue before, last year for a Shakespeare theatre play. You did some freelance work in the scene, but now you’re put to the test for more involved jobs. Hard to complain though, Måneskin are amazing in front of the camera. If Damiano is not the ideal Hamlet, you don’t know anymore.
Something new happens all the time, the expressions are priceless. Ethan’s in particular, when he does his wide-eyed surprise faces learning that there’s actually healthy food at the snack bar. „Vitamins, how nice.“ — Thomas, pokerfaced, reacts with eating a mayonnaise-dripping sandwich. Ethan, unfazed. Headed straight to the fruits. You’ve never seen a tall silver glitter tower like him walking around biting a bright red apple. Well, you can take Jacob out of twilight, but not the twilight out of Jacob. Snap, another picture. Clash of words, that’s a nice theme.
The concert of this evening seems particularly energetic and leaves your camera roll with some brilliant, tweet-worthy material. Damiano covered in confetti, eyeliner running. Victoria on the shoulders of Ethan while he’s playing her bass. Thomas, stagediving. Fans waving banners and chanting along to Seven Nation Army. Your ears are ringing when the light technicians close down the stage two hours later. Thomas really played his soul out with the solos, and your feet seem to vibrate. That’s your body thinking Victoria’s bass is still playing, but the magazine is very happy with how the pictures turned out after you send the whole batch to them as soon as you can.
Little to no retouching, zooming, or cropping necessary. Ethan is just perfect as he is, you feel like you captured him well. After swiping through the gallery on your tablet, you think Victoria has some great ant’s eye perspective shots as well. Those go right on your own blog, she’s just amazing. The magazine has an enthusiastic article typed out already. Damiano’s mid-air split on beat for the final song makes the cover story on Monday, and Måneskin’s manager comes back to you a week later. „What would you think about doing some behind the scenes stuff for us? We’re planning a music video!“
And that’s how you end up in a Sicilian restaurant with Måneskin and crew a week later, stuffed with Calzone and mind filled with Damiano’s inspiring words (and the occasional catchy freestyle rap). The MV is as good as finished. Thomas had shown you around the mansion they were shooting at, and you could convince a taciturn Ethan to walk between the marble statues and boxwood trees in the garden. With his black cape on, a rhinestone choker, and the low-cut lacey blouse that the MV director was obsessed with as well, asking you to focus on it. Your best shot even ends up in the thumbnail of the Youtube video without you even expecting it would.
All the garden pictures turned out mindblowing. If not iconic, the best project you had so far. Gets to show you the best things are often improvised. Ethan, stoic as always, sat at the base of armor-clad Emperor Augustus twisting into the blue sky in a large gesture. The marble was a perfect contrast. Ethan ate a ripe pear from a tree, even that was aesthetically pleasing, then leaned against a hunting Apollo, and you also framed him from the back next to Aphrodite and Cesar. He put on his sunglasses underneath Achilles, and knelt at the feet of a Pietà replica. Marvelous panorama shots, with him the shining center. Well, we know since Queen that the drummer is the unrealistically pretty one.
The whole picture series is blowing up on your blog for the whole afternoon. „Count Dracula on a stroll in Versailles — eugh, begone sunlight!“ is what a comment neatly sums it up as. People seem to especially like the shot where Ethan playfully put his cape over Pallas Athena’s spear with a blurry Thomas having a laughing fit in the background. Well, even Count Drac gets photobombed sometimes. Your phone buzzes with notifications every other minute, you do notice it against your thigh. But the insalata of the restaurant is good and the night is young. Victoria and the manager tell old stories of Thomas snapping a guitar string while he was trying to serenade a highschool crush. Ethan scolds them for making fun of it.
Damiano gets drunk and dances on the table, the MV director discusses new ideas, some walk-in fans take pictures. The temperature is still unbearable. You order a dessert to share with Victoria and Ethan. A large tiramisu that the waiter cuts in three pieces, and it’s truly delectable. The chocolate, so crunchy, melty. The cream, fluffy and cool, making for a funny white beard that makes Ethan look like an arctic scientist returning from an expedition.
Of course, you take pictures, all the food is documented. As are late night restaurant shots with Damiano’s heels peaking into the frame when you photograph the band’s friendship bracelets, hand-made by Victoria on a tour bus last year. Damiano’s back down on the table soon, singing, while Ethan creates a beat with two forks. Thomas also agrees to take your camera for a while so you’d be in the frame for a change, too.
You pose for a group picture, or rather a group hug, and being in the middle …Ethan’s arm wraps around your shoulder loosely, hair dangling into his face, but also brushing yours. He focuses on the camera, facing away from you. The schooled eye could catch you breaking a sweat in the resulting photo. Ironically, the tiramisu doesn’t cool you down the way you thought. Thomas is too busy trying to figure out your camera dials and yelling „hey eyebrow king, smile!“ at Ethan.
A round of even more gelato goes down in spoons and spoons. The band members eat like they ran a marathon. Ethan clinches a third round because he can, unhealthy be damned, he needs some sugar and refreshment. And it’s true the MV shooting was strenuous in the heat, and had lots of intense performing parts. Even an invisible rope suspension were Thomas would descend from a ceiling during the chorus with little cherub wings attached to his back because why not. If the manager agreed to recreate this on tour some day, the pictures would be amazing.
You can’t help but think what kind of special effect would suit Ethan the most, and you come to the conclusion that a bridge lift would be the coolest thing ever. A rising part of the stage letting him emerge like an elevator from the underground. Maybe using smoke machines, too. The idea twirls around in your mind so intensely, Damiano asks if you’re wasted. You’re always getting carried away with all kinds of fantasies like that for over a week now. A dreamy photographer? Not unusual, but it’s seriously distracting you from the present moment.
The crew slowly heads home, and the band decides (translation: Victoria’s mood is) to head to the movies. Just when the waiter arrives with the bill, Damiano spills panna cotta all over Ethan by accident. So bad he’s all sticky from the shoulders down, making Ethan opt for the hotel instead. Besides, he’s been drumming his soul out, sleep is so needed now. Since the group is already gone and there’s still a forgotten cymbal left to carry back to the equipment bus by the hotel, you help Ethan maneuver it around. The heat is making either of you sweat, even with the full dark of the night coming up.
The gaffer lady you’re sharing a hotel room with is already fast asleep. Damn it. You want to cut a video and make screenshots with the laptop being decently bright. And with some volume if possible, you don’t find headphones in the darkness of the room. Ethan clears the desk in his own room for you after removing his make-up. He looks so young and beautiful and tired.
You type and drag and double click yourself through the video and do some last blog updates to deal with all the notifications. Ethan lends you some headphones, but you only keep them on one ear. The humming is too nice to ignore. Nor do you know what to even expect. The bathroom door is open, Ethan is topless washing the lace blouse by hand. Only wearing bellbottom pants and his lace choker — nothing else. He’s fully immersed in his task. He even adds some other shirts and silk scarves into the soap water along the way while he’s at it.
You’ve never seen someone do their own laundry so systematically. Ethan looks like Prince Caspian at the sink, wielding the almond soap bar like his weapon of choice against the enemies of Narnia (the devious panna cotta that’s still sticking to everything). He might be all mysterious, but he’s well able to curse all kinds of things. You tease Ethan for dropping his gentlemanly behavior for a stain of dessert. Ethan insists you sound like Thomas trying to test him with his slick comebacks, which makes you laugh. The blog has calmed down a little and your eyes hurt from editing, so you call it a day and send one last e-mail.
Ethan is drowning in bubbles at this point. The whole room smells like fabric softener. He thanks you for helping him carry around the equipment earlier. In return, you say grazie for him being your perfect muse in the garden today. Philosopher he is, Ethan remarks how Måneskin is usually the one searching for muses, now he ended up one himself — „Maybe not a bad thing, eh. Become the thing you want or something.“ That’s way too deep for a summer night in Sicily, and both of you need a huge portion of sleep. Tomorrow, lots of schedule. You do find yourself wanting to help lick that dessert off his chest. No way you’d tell him.
Ethan waddles off to shower after a crooked, reserved smile for a good night departure. When you close the door to your room and start brushing your teeth, the other members’ voices emerge in the hotel corridor — they’ve returned from the movies. Damiano is even more wasted than before and audibly sings. „You’ve looked at the photographer lady in a certain way earlier, huh. I saw, I saw!“ Victoria does a loud ‚shh‘ noise, and the stoic reply is a simple „Sleep, Damiano, you’ve had too much.“ Thomas giggles, and four doors click shut. Damiano’s singing is now muffled for two minutes until it’s silent. How the fuck can you even sleep after hearing that.
You assumed that Ethan would treat you differently the next morning, in whatever shape or form. But he doesn’t. The greeting is short as it would always be, and he informs you that he did manage to wash out the sugary clay from his clothes as he puts it. Damiano says nothing, adjusts his rings. Thomas randomly pulls zippers at his packed-up equipment. Victoria headed to the car already. Downtown to a studio it goes. The group gets styled to perfection, twenty minutes later they make a reaction video to the newly released MV teaser. Ethan talks about enjoying the sculptures in the garden.
Three hours down the line, you shoot some promotional pictures of them at a pool. Thomas has the time of his life perfecting his diving board skills, and Damiano creates the musical background, singing and prancing. The aerials would make literal perfect editorial-in-VOGUE material. In the meantime, Victoria dozes in the sun. Ethan dives. Sometimes just sitting at the bottom of the pool, othertimes swimming back and forth. The art director suggests you to go into the water, too. He’s right, the perspective works out well this way.
You’re basically standing in there with your flowy pantalon pants and camisole, using a waterproof camera. Your bikini is back at the hotel. It doesn’t matter, everything will dry quickly, the others went in the pool with clothes as well. And you’re all too wrapped up in your passion in the first place. You marvel at how fun the whole scenery looks through your lens. Their outfits are cropped and luminous, today’s color is bright red. You order the lighting assistant back and forth, get some more great Thomas frames where he tosses around a volleyball that the manager brought along. Less rock than usual, but it works. Måneskin at a pool in Sicily.
Damiano splashes water around like crazy. Victoria joins the fun as well, splashing right back. It’s infernal. Well, those are going to be dynamic pictures, you think, and the cameraman never dies, so. Ethan resurfaces every other minute, wiping the chlorine from his eyes. He slicks his hair back with both hands, looking down his body learning how his shirt has become completely transparent. He covers his chest with his hair, quickly, then submerges again. It’s strange. Being topless is usually no big deal in Måneskin.
Almost 12 o’clock. Thomas and Damiano wander off to work on some lyrics, probably the title that the drum solo is part of. All top secret. Victoria returns to her sun lounger, checking her phone. The crew heads for lunch, but you stay in the water, gladly you put sunscreen on earlier. You ask Ethan to try some seated or floating poses at the bottom of the pool that you saw him practice earlier. „No worries, keep your eyes closed.“
What unfolds before you is the most beautiful thing. Ethan’s shirt fans out like a red jellyfish underwater, playing around his body. His figure is just enviable. He gets the hang of it and knows quite how to move. Or rather, to remain stable when the pose is perfect. Hands above his head, horizontal, or seated, only one foot lightly sweeping over the pool floor, or on one knee, as if he proposed.
Raising his arms helps him sink down and settle, as if he immersed himself in deep meditation. Although the purpose of meditating is to be present, isn’t it. And that’s what he feels like. Ethan would normally switch on autopilot for most of his public interactions, now he’s alive and fully in the concentrated movements of the photoshoot. So much about improvising all over again. The hair creates the most incredible shapes like a black, wide brushstroke, clearly outlined. Thank god you have the waterproof camera. These are moments you’ll never forget.
Your blog notifications keep on bleeping throughout the afternoon. The promotional pictures are a hit. Måneskin’s manager is basically waving five new contracts in front of your face at dinner, but you’re kind of spaced out again. The cozy, rose-ranked atmosphere of the street café you went to is inspiring, and the members dressed up in the most fancy suitwear. Men in Black? Måneskin in Black. It’s almost as if fate read your mind. Ethan is looking at you very intently from across the table when the minestrone is served.
Pasta shells, parsley, vegetables and basil leaves. The scent surrounds the entire table. Damiano, in serious mode tonight, is too busy finding new rhymes and an alternative chorus with Thomas who wildly brainstorms. Victoria drinks, loudly chats with the gaffer lady that you share a room with, and they use a leaf of a palm tree pot plant to tickle Damiano. Thomas plays the acoustic guitar. Ethan and you end up smiling briefly at another. „Bon apetit,“ you say. It’s almost 34° celsius. That’s going to be an entire pile of cheesecake gelato tonight.
Five signed contracts later and halfway through a hefty caprese cake, the title song is finished. An ode to Marlena, fierce like the Mediterranean sea. The piece certainly sounds exactly like this place. Strangers listen to Damiano performing bits and pieces, but you decide to disperse when too many cellphones come out. Damiano wants to go to a bar, Thomas and Victoria carry home their guitars, or to the hotel to be exact, and bags of newly shopped vintage clothes. You ask Ethan if there are any cinemas around the area. „We missed out last time, remember.“
The Palazzo Theater is a small and hidden insider tip far from the main street with its busy beach tourists. Under bulbous metal balconies and peach-colored facades, a small entrance with lanterns on each side guides you inward. Ethan almost hits his head, it’s so low. He’s wearing glossy red bottoms under his suit pants, you’re out and about with a 6’2 giant after all — a statue by himself. A small man with a pipe sells you cheap tickets for a Mads Mikkelsen movie and lemonade, Ethan picks up an XXXL caramel popcorn bucket. You think he’s flexing, but you get a sudden heureka by looking at it twice.
Unlike the S, M, and L bags, it’s thick cardboard and drum-shaped. Oh my god, obviously. Which fine percussionist could ever resist such temptation striped in red and white, the sound deep and dull? It makes you smile how Ethan pursues his instrument even when he seemingly doesn’t, it really has to be a hobby at heart. That’s how a job becomes a profession, and a profession a vocation, your uni professor’s other favorite words all over again. The latter’s words have gotten you far so you again trust the insight that came to you through that quote.
Seeing Ethan standing there, you can almost see the childlike joy at imagining it being empty and ready to get turned around. A tuxedo Italian with Louboutin heels and a ginormous popcorn drum, half past eleven somewhere in Palermo: Ingenious combination, you snap a picture. Ethan makes a cute face, posing like a pinup of the 50s. Who knows how many vintage store posters he’s seen during tours, he must have picked it up there. And— Is he blushing? Must be the dim lights in here.
Off you go to the auditorium. Ethan, who balance the popcorn with all care in the world like it’s his baby, walks the aisle slower than you. The slim steps don’t have any floor lighting. Not very heel-friendly, but since it’s not a huge budget theater and few people dare spike heels on those cobblestones outside anyway, the stairs shall be forgiven. You take out your phone and offer your arm. For every gentleman it takes a gentlewoman, duh. Like rock’n’roll and the camera staff, chivalry (or shevalry as Damiano calls it when Vic holds the door open) never dies. He mumbles a thanks, you climb upward to the fourth-last row, Ethan holds on tight.
No ankles twisted and not one popcorn spilled, you get seated on red velvet. The chairs are dated, but nevertheless ultra comfortable. Nobody else is here. The adverts roll, Ethan cracks open the lemonade bottle caps with his chunky golden lighter because he can. You toast to Mads Mikkelsen’s bone structure and good minestrone, Måneskin’s finished title track, the promo pics, and the discovery of Ethan’s favorite new drum. A whopping five things to toast about? The night’s going to be great.
Damiano catwalking across the screen, wearing a Versace skirt in the middle of otherwise-boring commercials does shake you up. He was picked as a testimonial recently. Though, your pulse is high enough. Ethan’s hair is brushing against your shoulders, not to mention his goddamn massive arms. He can’t get out a single word either for the entirety of the ads, avoiding eye contact all over again. Just how much suspense can starting to eat the first popcorn have. Well, you pick two from the very top and start munching.
Mads does a great job opening the movie as one would expect, but you just can’t concentrate. Instead, you stress-eat popcorn. Which makes Ethan do the same thing, at least he’s somewhat fixated on the screen. After the first ten minutes, he shakes his head. „That makes no sense at all,“ he clears his throat. „Yeah, yeah it clearly doesn’t,“ you agree, basically on Torchio-autopilot yourself for the lack of a better reply. You were too busy figuring out the components of his aftershave rather than the thin plot. Shifting in your seat, chugging lemonade…
The air conditioning is scarce, but at least the screen is quite large and proper. You try to focus on the cinematography and do small talk about it. If there’s something you can comment on without having followed the string of action, it’s at least this. You might be nervous, but you’re still a photographer. „Um, isn’t this chainmail nice in the closeup?“ — „Hm, I guess it works. We should ask Damiano to request something like this from Versace.“ — „Medieval Måneskin Rockers?“ — „Something like that.“ — „Hilarious.“
By the twenty-minute mark, the popcorn drum is almost empty. Gladly, that stuff just shrinks to bits in the stomach. The lemonade just has to galvanize it. You might be able to distract yourself with the camera shots and the last caramel chunks, but that doesn’t change Ethan’s long legs and Acqua di Parma perfume next to you. Yep, you finally figured out what it was, it wasn’t the aftershave. And well. Ethan smells like hotel soap from Milano to Napoli and back.
That scent basically dominates all the others besides a hint of cigar and basil and citrus-y deodorant mixed with runny sweat. God fuck, you can barely stand it. And the almond scent. You take a chance to at least jokingly point it out to him. The random movie flashback sequence is boring — and just as nonsensical as before, no offense to Mads though, he’s just walking around in chain mail — enough to deviate from whatever choppy convo you had going on before.
„I actually washed it twice,“ Ethan pulls off the silky scarf that functions as his current tie, and you recognize it. „The strawberry sauce was hard, but the cranberries… God no, I’ll never go near pana cotta again. Nothing against cream desserts.“ You take the scarf, smell it. Did he literally just hand it to you? Figures, he’s sweating bullets, too. And oh shit, he hasn’t talked that much all evening.
You slowly shift from bodies turned to the screen to facing each other. So up close, so up front, only God can help you know. His eyes are dark and reflective of the film’s flickering lights and changing scenes. You wish you could photograph them on sight. It would be as glimmering as your view from the hotel room, overwatching the unobstructed stars of the Mediterranean bay down the boulevard.
But it’s like you’re stuck in your position this way, feverishly thinking about a reply. What to pick up on, what to pick up on. You think about today, the evening where you edited things in his room. „Uh well, drop your laundry in the pool next time,“ you laugh, more than tentative, with your fingers randomly curling around the scarf. „The chlorine stuff will do the job for you. It’s so aggressive, it bleached by pants one shade lighter.“
Saved. Smooth transaction. Phew. „Oh, the pool was horrible. Not the photos, I mean… I don’t know how you can poison water that way.“ — „I know right? It’s still in my nose. But yeah, was a good idea with the underwater thing. The photos turned out really well.“ — „I really haven’t done something like that before but I guess it turned out hm, nice?“ — „Come on! Nice is understated. Are you fishing for compliments?“ — „No no, by all means!“ — „The one kneeling. It’s my favorite. I don’t even know what to do with all these pictures.“
„I don’t know. Maybe keep them?“ — „Keep… for what?“ — „It’s a separate series, right. The art director didn’t request it. Maybe they can be used for something later on during promotions.“ — „Yeah. We’re always a little extracurricular,“ you laugh again, tense in your voice, and empty your lemonade completely. „This, too,“ Ethan points at the theatre in general. „You’re good to talk to. The better version of alone time.“ — „Thank you. You’re great to go out with. I… really like it.“ Beautiful nature scenes show on screen, but they’re nothing but a blur. You take Ethan’s hands in the dark and smile. „Maybe we should do it more often.“
masterlist | bookmark/read it on ao3
© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.
#maneskin#ethan torchio#ethan torchio x reader#maneskin fanfic#maneskin scenario#måneskin#maneskin fluff#maneskin x reader#maneskin fanfiction#ethan x reader#ethan torchio fluff#ethan torchio fanfic
295 notes
·
View notes
Text
Monoma x Reader: Sour Taste, Pt:1: Stripping Bunny
This is a Mafia Au. And this series called i hate everyone but not you. But till next time bye my butterfly’s. Hope you love this series and this part.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were now the new Mafia boss it took you awhile all it took was to take down your father and now your here. It was fun being feared of and being treat like a god but now you were busy getting ready to leave for a fun night out. While you were looking at last minute paper work before you leave you heard a knock. “Come in”, you yelled to see one of the lower ranking members open the door. “Oh Monoma Neito why are you in here” “Um everyone is ready ma’ma” “Good now come on let’s go”, you say getting up walking to the door. Monoma can only stare in aw he always had a crush on you but he always knew it would be hard to get you sense you are now the new Mafia boss.
You and your crew walked in a strip club to have meeting with the rival gang. “Ah nice to see you old friend i heard you finally killed your father” “Took awhile but good that he’s gone so where is Bakugou and Todoroki at Midoriya” “Oh they are running late but let’s talk” “Alright, the rest of you go have a fun night meet back together when this is over”. Everyone nod but Monoma was a little worried he knew you can take care of yourself but he also knew how reckless you can be and being in a room alone with three men. He was so lost in his mind he didn’t hear the two men behind him. “Hey beat in extra!”, he only moved while two men walked in ‘she’ll be fine right?’.
You see the two men walk in only smirking as now the four of you rule now. “So you guys took your time” “Yeah kacchan next time be here on time” “Shut it you two before i beat you two into a pulp”. The three of you just talked about what to do next and the new raising gangs. After the meeting the four of you decided to go drink for a bit.
Monoma shall you four and was going to go up to see you but the three men had their hand on you whispering in your ear. ‘What the hell are they doing’ he thought seeing you giggle at the actions. “Um hey you how can i get up on stage” “Sir you have to be a worker to get on stage” “i’ll pay anything just please” “Fine make the money 10,000 and where good” “Okay here take it”.
You where feeling the hands of your friends Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki all over you and saying how they would love to submit to you and how they can be your bitch. Till you heard anew song came on so you turn your head to see Monoma Neito in a bunny suit dancing on a pole. “Hold on you three i’ll be back”, you left the three groaning but you just walked up to the front seeing Monoma neito only smirk knowing he got you away from those boys. You always thought Monoma was cute and how he’s all bark but no bite to you that was cute.
“So how much do i have to pay to get you alone cutie” “Give me a 500 hundred and you got a deal”. You pulled out a 500 hundred making Monoma get on his knees as you put the dollar bill in his mouth. You helped him get down as he helped you to the back. “Wait Y/n where are you going” “Oh i’m going to have a nice night” “What about are night, remember how you were going to show us to submit”, Midoriya said trying to make you come back to them. “Sorry boys maybe next time”, you said as Monoma stuck out his tongue as the three boys glared at him. You and got in the room locking the door as you sit down on the sofa in the room. “So someone had this plan”, you said sitting down “I just want you to have fun tonight” “Oh i will now can i have that show i paid for or i can always go back with-” “No! um okay”. You can only smirk seeing him move his hands up and down. “Why don’t you sit down cutie”, you said patting your thigh Monoma can only gulp as he walked up to you sitting down. You leaned back as he gave you a lap dance, “So you did all this for me” “Yes master i always get mad when you play with others but not me” “Oh i’ll play with you”. You ran your fingernails up his thigh stopping at the inner thigh. “Why don’t you take this little outfit off and i can have my moneys worth. He did as you say taking of the bunny suit smiling that he was finally getting what he always wanted.
He was a moaning mess bouncing on the strap on you found as you can only blow smoke in his as you smoke your cigar. “Aw come on my bunny you can go faster” “Only for you master”. He came seven times that nice as you made him cum over and over again till you said the night was over. “Okay my bunny it’s time to go get ready to go” “Yes master”.
You both walked out as you and your crew went outside drunk or with love bites but you helped Monoma walk sense the fun night you two had. Before you went in the limousine you heard someone call your name. “Hey Y/n before you can me, Todoroki, and Bakugou go over tomorrow” “Sure just tell me when you near my place alright” “Okay bye Y/n”. You waved at the green haired boy as he walked away but Monoma heard it all. ‘They still want to get in her pants how can’t she not see his wondering eyes’. You got in saying telling the driver to go as you looked over to Monoma who was in his own world. “Hey cutie come sit over here”, you said patting your thigh again he can only nod quickly as he sat on you lap resting his head on your chest. “Hey can you get a room!”, one of the men said. “If i were you i would shut up before your wife and kids learn that you were in someone else”, the man eyes only widen as he looked away. He can only smile he really did love you and he knew deep down you did two.
#neito monoma x y/n#bnha monoma#bnha monoma x reader#monoma neito x reader#neito monoma x reader#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
high stakes. (M)
Finally finished phew
Yes, I’m a hoe for blue haired Taehyung leave me alone
Word Count: 8.1k (oof)
Warnings: Light spanking? Oral (giving/recieving), dirty talk, Taehyung
V.
The 22nd letter of the alphabet to some, to others he was a powerful man. A man who pulled the strings of his many associates that obeyed every command. He was a mysterious figure, a man whose face hasn’t been seen by many but very few described him.
Some say he’s a foreigner that settled in Seoul, on the run from the international authorities. Some say he was a tall muscular man who used to be a hitman before chasing his ventures. Some say V wasn’t even a man at all, but a woman.
You didn’t know the truth behind V either, opting out of the rumour mill that clouded the name. It wouldn’t help you anyhow as you were a mere gambler, spending parts of your paycheck on roulette and the occasional slot machine. You liked playing against dealers, calculating every move that you could make and the rush when you make a small payout from a simple game.
Gambling can be beautiful; the sweet taste of victory could overwhelm the senses and lead to people scrambling for any cash on them to keep playing. You could watch desperate men begging for a rematch, screaming that they had to be cheating because there was no way they could lose.
Of course, you knew they’re being outplayed by the dealer, but the addiction eroded their ability to see their reality.
You haven’t gone off the deep end yet but tonight, you were feeling lucky.
You walked over to a table, a game just about to start and took the empty seat in the middle. You made eye contact with the dealer, Hongjoong, he was rarely on shift here. Made you wonder what the occasion was.
“Count me in.”
“Ah, Miss Y/N, you look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you. It’s been a while since I last saw you.” You rested your head on top of your hands as your elbows sat on the edge of the table.
“Been busy, you know how it is. How much?”
“I’m feeling 75 tonight.”
“Alright.” You placed your stack down, along with the others and watched the pit boss walk over and counts the cash. Your lovely stack of chips was placed in front of you as Hongjoong started dealing the cards.
You quietly watched, glancing at everyone’s cards and he finally dealt himself a card. 13, huh.
Hongjoong had a 10. The man to your right had an ace and a six, a hand you had to watch out for.
He started from the left, the first two chose to stand, you hit, Hongjoong dealt you a card, giving you a 7 and you stood. All you needed was the cards to fall as they may, you had the upper hand here.
You grinned to yourself as the other members of the table reluctantly pushed their stacks towards you.
“Another round, Miss?”
“I can’t see why not.” New faces joined, none that you bothered to concern yourself with. After all, all you had to do was win.
And win, you did.
With all the chips you had, you could build yourself a castle and no player around you were none the wiser.
“Count me in.” You heard, a man saying close to your ear as he took the empty seat next to you. He felt cold, the room dropping a few degrees as he spoke. Any weak-willed player would back out instantly, but you were more than that.
Besides, you could remember the last time you came close to a man as pretty as he was. Dare you to say, he might just be as pretty as you.
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A man spoke, one that just lost a round to you. Sore loser.
“Anyone that plays a round with her loses.”
“I bet she’s cheating.” Tch. You shoot the man a glare, him retreating and you heard a chuckle.
“I don’t remember asking for advice, especially from a man who just lost.”
“Dealer, I’m betting double of what she’s got.”
“S-sir.”
“You hear me clearly, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Has Hongjoong ever stutter like that?
“And who might you be, Miss?” He took your hand, bringing it to his lips and you stared in shock. His pinstriped suit fit him perfectly, his dress shirt unbuttoned enough to give you a peek at his defined collarbones.
Taking in the image of him staring at you almost knocked you off your seat. Is it possible for a man to be this handsome or was it the trick of the light?
No, you mustn’t be swayed by his appearance. It was a ploy to play with your focus, all that matters is dealing a blow to his confidence. And that starts with your next words.
“The woman who is about to win.”
“Is that so? I like that response.”
“You want to lose?”
“I never lose.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Start the game, dealer.” The man said, not taking an eye off you and Hongjoong began to deal out cards.
You noted the cards of those around you, making sure to stand when you were sure that you had this in the bag. Despite the man sitting next to you, you still had no clue to what he could have.
You briefly glanced at him, meeting his ominous eyes for a moment and quickly looked away. It felt like he was reading you, opening up parts of you that you purposely kept hidden with the blink of his eye.
As if the more you walled off, the more he broke down with such ease.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
“Stand.”
“Stand.” He parroted, you scoffed. You placed your cards down, having yourself a lovely 19 and glanced around the table until your eyes landed on the cards of the man next to you.
A perfect 21.
“Would you look at that? A Blackjack.” You watched as the chips were pushed his way. His smirk at you mocked you as you received your wager.
“It was nice playing with you, Miss. Hope we meet again sometime.” He threw a wink at the end, taking his earnings with him and you only watched him walk away with the last word.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
You stabbed your salad, taking a large bite and chewing to yourself. So maybe the thought of that man stewed in your mind longer than you thought. His domineering presence lingered around you like a cloud, making you wish for clear skies.
Those handsome features were distorted by his supercilious attitude, it was a shame.
“Uh oh, who’s next on your hit list? Is it Lisa again?”
“No, but she’s still on thin ice.”
“I hope you’re joking about that.” Your friend, Soyou laughed as she took the seat in front of you.
“And if I wasn’t?”
“Then, HR.”
“Those clowns? They would make me write an apology letter and call it a day.”
“Police?”
“It was a joke, So, I didn’t think you would turn on me like that.”
“So, now it’s a joke?” You took another bite of your salad, smiling at her and she rolled her eyes at you.
“So, what’s really on your mind?”
“There was a man…”
“Was he handsome?”
“Does it matter?”
“I mean hot guys can pretty much get away with anything.”
“You mean, hot, rich guys do. Wait, that’s not the point!”
“Hey, his hotness is a factor in this.”
“How so?”
“Since he’s stirring you up this much, he’s at least pretty.”
“It wasn’t that kind of encounter.”
“Then?”
“He beat me at Blackjack.”
“He’s a dealer?”
“No, he was a player at the table.”
“I thought blackjack was between you and the dealer?”
“It is but I’m usually the one to win my wager in my rounds and this man defied that.”
“And? Did you lose?”
“No.”
“So, why does it matter?”
“Because.”
“Y/N, you need to use your words, honey.”
“Because he smirked at me as he did. Like he knew that he would win his bet regardless of the outcome of me winning my wager or not.”
“Again, why does that matter?”
“I have a reputation to upkeep there, the Weeper they call me.”
“Weeper?”
“Because any man who plays in any game with me is bound to weep.”
“Makes you sound like a villain, you know. Some of these men are gambling their livelihoods.”
“Then, they’ve already lost.” Soyou opened her mouth to say something but closed it, resorting to eating her lunch as you finished yours.
You knew how cold you sounded but those words were a truth that not many wanted to admit.
You’ve seen it with your own eyes.
And who were you to do anything about it? You were a simple office worker who always had time to kill after work. Maybe you could be like others who drink with co-workers or spend night binging Netflix’s extensive catalogue but you like the thrill.
Watching on bated breath as you gambled, whether it was slots, roulette, poker. As long as Lady Luck was on your side, who could stop you?
So once again, you slipped into one of your nicer gowns, your fanciest heels and strutted into the casino.
The atmosphere was to your liking, fewer people than normal but the stacks seemed higher.
“Ah, why isn’t the young Miss from the other night?”
“Oh, it’s you.” As if he came to ruin your mood, the man appears. He wore a slick white suit this time, the flaps as black as the colour of his hair and you crossed your arms.
“Not quite the reaction I would have liked, to be truthful.”
“What makes you believe I would be happy to see you?”
“Why, I can tell you can’t get me out of your mind at least. Whether it’s out of hate or love doesn’t matter.”
“You’re such a strange man.”
“Oh?”
“Why would you remember me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? After all, you’re the woman they call the Weeper. Is that not true?”
“Is that so?”
“Being coy, aren’t we? I thought it was because one look at your face would make a grown man cry.”
“Very funny.”
“But seeing how beautiful you are, it must be your skill.” He tilted your chin; you slapped his hand away and began walking past him.
“Don’t mock me.” You spat, him making no haste to catch up to you.
“I mean not to, Miss. I was merely intrigued by your reputation. The Weeper, enemy of men.”
“You make me sound like a villain.”
“Only repeating the rumours. And yet you were no match for me.”
“We weren’t competing.”
“Au contraire, bunny, I ruined your perfect streak, did I not? Any man who plays against you is bound to lose his wager. Yet I have not.”
“You’re just an irregularity. That’s all.”
“Sounds like you can’t accept your losses.”
“Now, you’re taunting me.”
“Does it sound like that?” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you against the side of a slot machine and you squirmed.
“Want to make a bet?” Those words, spoken as if they were a spell meant to enchant you led you to a roulette table. The dealer of the table looked nervous as the two of you had placed your bets and he smirked at you.
Gosh, how you’ve grown to hate that look in a short amount of time.
Best two out of three, you reminded yourself. If you won, it would mean his win was just an off round. If he wins, he wanted something from you. You tried to press him from more than ‘something’, but he wouldn’t budge beyond that.
Just two wins and you can watch his smirk be washed away.
Roulette was a game of luck and chance, still, you were up against the odds as you glanced at where you placed your chips.
“No more bets.” The dealer spun the wheel, dropping the ball as it joined the wheel in spinning before it landed in its spot.
“31, black.”
“That’s mine, isn’t it?”
“You sure do like to gloat.”
“Because it winds you up so perfectly, I can’t wait to unravel it all myself.”
“You talk as if something were going to happen between me and you.”
“I’m just going to have to get something will.” You regret agreeing to this stupid bet for a moment, it’s becoming clear to you that the game you were actually playing had nothing to do with the spinning roulette table.
“14, red.” You held back a grin, settling for giving him a look before turning your eyes back to the table.
If you could wish on all your lucky stars for this to land on any number you bet on, you did. After a silent prayer, you waited for the dealer’s words.
“21, red.”
“Oh, isn’t that ironic? Isn’t that where we first met?”
“Fuck you.”
“I wish you would, bunny.”
“Forget this.” You got up from the table, the man reaching for your wrist again and you cursed as he gripped hard. Would he just leave you alone?
“Now, bunny, you made a bet with me. Isn’t the honourable thing to do to fulfill your end of it?”
“Isn’t you winning enough for you? You have bragging rights now, just satisfy yourself with that.”
“No. I don’t need that.”
“Then, what is it? Spit it out.”
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
You stuffed your head in a pillow as Soyou sat on the edge of your bed.
“He asked you out?”
“I don’t understand this man at all. One minute, he’s taunting me, the next he’s flirting with me. Is he a sadist?”
“Wouldn’t it make you a masochist for going out with him?”
“Who said I was going?”
“Weren’t you the one going on about reputations?”
“Well, that’s tainted now. So, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But, aren’t you at least curious about him?”
“And why would I be?”
“He’s hot from how you described him, he’s rich since he can gamble his life away so easily and he gambled like you, so there’s a shared interest between you two. Hey, if you snag him, you could just use him to gamble for you. It’ll be a definite win.”
“So, he’s probably toying with me-” You heard your phone vibrate next to you, raising it to wake and seeing a message.
Hey, bunny, dress casually and don’t be late. I don’t like waiting.
“He calls you a pet name already?”
“I don’t even know why he calls me that either. Makes me want to punch him square in the nose.”
“Well, don’t. It’ll ruin the atmosphere of the date.”
“I’m not going!”
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
You spoke too soon when you got to the address that he gave you, seeing it was a café. Soyou dragged you out of bed, essentially forcing you into going. She even dared to slip a condom in your purse as if you were going to use it. And with him, of all people.
“You came?”
“Expecting to get stood up?”
“I see you’re sharp as ever, bunny.”
“I have an actual name, you know.”
“Which you have yet to tell me if you haven’t noticed.”
“Y/N. Yours?”
“Taehyung.”
“Hm, your name means ‘all wishes will come true’ huh? Explains your ridiculous luck.”
“Didn’t know you were into things like that.”
“No, I just need something to explain how I lost to you twice.”
“You should let that go, it’s not good for your health, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, opening the door to the café and seeing a rabbit hopping in front of you.
“Look, it’s your kind.”
“Very funny, Taehyung.”
“But it’s so cute.” He scooped one into his arms, petting it and you watched as it melted under his touch.
“Don’t worry, I can give you head pats too.” He petted your head, his large hand felt warm, but you were annoyed by the casual skinship.
“Ah, thank you customer for catching him! He managed to get out.” A staff member bowed to the two of you and took the rabbit from Taehyung.
“I felt a bond forming with him.”
“You can go out with him instead if you’d like?”
“And miss the chance to spend an afternoon with a beautiful woman? I think he can wait.”
“How many women have you fed that line to?”
“I never had a woman competing with a rabbit before so, none?”
“I’m not competing-”
“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m joking. Let’s order?” He asked, you walked up to the counter with him and ordering your lunch.
You glanced at the rabbits, making eye contact with a small brown rabbit. He hopped close to his gate, you crouched in front and paused. You weren’t quite sure how to approach a rabbit.
A staff member opened his gate for you, letting the little creature hop out and you stayed still.
“You have to show him your hand, bit off to the side so he can see it.” Taehyung was crouched next to you as you followed his instructions.
“Okay.” He began to sniff your hand, you allowed him until he got closer to you.
“I think he wants to go pet him. Go for the cheeks.” You nodded, stroking his cheek and he closed his eyes. It felt like he nuzzled into your touch as you continued to pet him, and you smiled.
“I had no idea you were well versed in rabbits.”
“My grandparents had a farm, they kept rabbits. I can still remember getting nipped by one of the dominant ones.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A bit, he had a nasty bite. But I learned.”
“What else did they have?”
“The usual, chickens and cows. Gramps grew apples and oranges too. When I was born, my grandparents planted an apple tree that day. Every summer, I would check on it and see it grew taller than me.”
“You were competing with a tree, Taehyung.”
“It’s silly but I hate to lose.”
“You were bound to.”
“Unfortunately.” You laughed, Taehyung giving you an incredulous look.
“I pour part of my life story to you and you laugh.”
“Because it’s hard to imagine you competing with nature of all things. Don’t tell me you marked it in your house too?”
“And what if I did?”
“Then, you’re stranger than I thought. Acting all seductive and dominant when you’re a big softie.”
“If I were that one dimensional, that would be boring as fuck. After all, being a one-trick pony wouldn’t let me win, would it?”
“Spoken like a true gambler.”
“Even now, I’m making a wager.”
“On what?”
“Well, it’s not fun if I tell you.”
“Couldn’t let go of the teasing, huh?”
“Of course not, bunny.” You rolled your eyes, getting up as your order was called. The two of you carried your food to an empty table, the meal you ordered was in the shape of a rabbit. A sandwich neatly cut into one with a side of fries.
“That’s oddly perfect.”
“I mean it is the Tokki café, Taehyung.”
“To get the ears so perfectly matched.”
“You’re oddly fascinated by this.”
“Are you not?”
“More curious about you.”
“I like the sound of t-” You stuffed a bite of your sandwich in his mouth, you watched him chewing said bite.
“I thought we start feeding each other on the fourth date at the earliest.”
“I guess we’re moving fast.”
“Mhm.” It was the only thing he mustered, beginning to eat his meal as you ate yours. You patted a napkin around your mouth, careful to not smudge your lipstick and Taehyung kept his eyes on you.
“If you have something to say, you can say it. I don’t think I have telepathy.”
“Just thinking about how I can make this day longer.”
“Did you read some pick-up artist books before coming here?”
“Tch, those books are just for desperate people who can’t flirt.”
“Who knows, maybe they’ll teach you about subtlety.”
“Subtlety? I know what I want and go after it, simple.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“I don’t give up if that’s what you’re asking.” Of course, a man like him would chase until the very end. You met him at a casino for goodness sake. A place where people can put up their homes, cars, livelihoods for a chance to win.
Why would he be any different?
“Unless I know for sure there’s no chance. I also don’t like wasting my time, Y/N.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” You jogged to catch up with him, stopping when he got in front of a rather expensive car.
“Ladies first.” He opened the passenger door, you hesitated before getting in and he got into the driver seat a few moments later.
“This isn’t where you drive me to some unknown fields and kill me or something.”
“We’re downtown, Y/N, also I’m not from here. So, if anything, we’re more likely to get lost in the city.”
“And you don’t have a GPS.”
“Got one in here.” He pointed to his head and you groaned. Is this a common trait amongst men? You still remember ending up three towns over from where you lived when your high school boyfriend wanted to take you to some cool restaurant. Your mother never let you hear the end of it, she still brings up when you called her now and then.
“Oh, great.” You remarked.
After dealing with some traffic, he parked in front of an arcade.
“A change of pace.”
“Right.” The two of you walked in together, him paying the entrance fee and you two entering the hall. The large room was filled with games, the place was mostly filled with teens and kids running around to different games.
“Come on.” He took your hand, pulling you into the direction of a racing game and taking a seat.
“At least you can’t crash this car.”
“Hey, I just like getting to places in the fastest time possible.”
“I felt like my face was going to fly off like it does in cartoons.”
“You should star in a soap opera, really good at being dramatic.”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t lost your licence.” You said as you took the seat next to his, gripping the steering wheel and entered the game.
“It helps with racing games.”
“Does it now?”
“Wanna test it?” You cocked an eyebrow, pressing start and began racing against Taehyung. The two of you were focused on beating the other that you hadn’t noticed the kids that just boosted his way to first place while you two got second and third respectively.
“How?”
“Tae, it’s okay to lose sometimes.”
“You’re only saying that because you got second, but me getting third?”
“Aw, sweetie, I can get you some ice cream to make you feel better.”
“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”
“Do you want the ice cream or not?”
“Yes.” The two of you ordered ice cream in a cup, you ordered chocolate chip cookie dough while Taehyung had rocky road.
“Let me have a bite.”
“Fine.” He stole your next bite, giving you a wink as he licked his lips.
“Taehyung.”
“It’s too sweet. Here.” He handed you another spoon, you gleefully took it and finished off your ice cream.
You played a few more games, most of them resulting in a tie or Taehyung winning. You didn’t mind much, having fun watching Taehyung’s competitive nature but making sure you were still enjoying yourself. He drove you home, you sat in the passenger seat with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Can I see you again?” You got out of the car, Taehyung opening the door for you and you leaned against the car door as he spoke.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll take it. Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Taehyung.”
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
Soyou came over for a girl’s night, her letting herself feel at home while you gathered the snacks.
“What’s with all the flowers?”
“Oh, he sent them…” You felt your face grow hot; Taehyung has been sending them after every date since your first. They were always the prettiest bunch; no bouquet was the same as the other and the latest was a bouquet of red camellias.
“What are they?”
“Red Camellias.” You placed down the tray of snacks, taking a bite of a cookie after you replied.
“Do you know what that means?”
“That he has a romantic side to him.”
“Oh, sweet child, do you not know about floriography?”
“Do I know what?”
“The language of the flowers, Y/N. Red camellias mean ‘You’re the flame of my heart’.”
“Flowers have meanings? Can’t they just be pretty?”
“What, they can’t multi-task now? Has he sent you others?”
“Yellow tulips, some Primroses, Alyssum, red roses, of course, and I think red chrysanthemums.”
“And you thought nothing of it.”
“Well, not all of us think of flowers like you.”
“Blame my florist mother. Anyways, the tulips mean your smile is like sunshine, primroses, alyssum mean worth beyond beauty, red roses and red chrysanthemums mean I love you and primroses mean I can’t live without you.”
“W-what? Really?”
“Girl, your man is speaking sweet nothings to you with flowers and you’re questioning it?”
“I mean he could have just sent them because they’re pretty.”
“Or that he’s madly in love with you.”
“It’s only been a few dates. Besides we haven’t done anything.”
“Do you have a photo?”
“What?’
“I need a photo of him.” You looked through your photos, choosing a random one and Soyou snatched your phone.
“What is wrong with you, Y/N?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“You have the hottest man alive and you haven’t banged him at least once?” She shrieked; you covered your ears a bit at the increased pitch.
“I don’t just put out.”
“in any other situation, I would applaud you, but this guy could bag a whole nightclub, guys and girls included. You sure you want to keep him on his toes?”
“If he wanted sex, he can hire an escort.”
“I admire your strength, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, finishing off your cookie and scrolling through Netflix. You settled on a rom-com that Soyou raved about, staring to fall asleep partway through when the main characters had a stupid misunderstanding.
“Past bedtime, huh?”
“If I remember correctly,” a yawn escaping your lips mid-sentence before you continued, “you’re the older one here.”
“The movie wasn’t that boring.”
“I beg to differ. Will give a review in the morning, night.” Soyou rolled her eyes at you, got a tired laugh from you before the two of you went to bed in the living room.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
You woke up, the sheets next to you empty and someone was knocking at your door. Rubbing the sleep of out of your eyes, you walked to the front door and was met with flowers in your face.
“Special delivery.”
“Tae?”
“Your one and only.” He lowered the flowers to reveal his smiling face, making you smile in return.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you until Friday.”
“I missed you, bunny.” He swiftly kissed your cheek as he stepped inside your apartment, the simple gesture making your heart skip a beat.
“Plus, I wanted to meet the famous Soyou.”
“I wonder where she went.”
“Her shoes are still here.” You checked the bathroom, seeing her not there either and going into your bedroom. On the side table was a note?
“Bunny?”
“In the bedroom.” You replied, Taehyung jogging in and peered over your shoulder.
“Someone took So, thinking it was me? Why would anyone do this?”
“It’s because of me.”
“Tae…?”
“I’m so sorry, bunny. But please leave this to me.” He started to rush out the room, you followed him until you got close enough to grab his arm.
“I’m going with you.”
“Y/N, you can’t.”
“She’s my best friend, Tae. I don’t want to lose you either, no matter how annoying you are sometimes.” He chortled at the last bit
“I’ll protect you both, I promise.” He sealed his words with a kiss to your forehead.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
“Bunny, whatever you do, don’t leave the car.”
“Okay.” Yeah, right. Taehyung caressed your cheek before he left, taking the time between him entering the building before getting out yourself. You sneaked in, seeing Taehyung standing in front of a woman? Getting closer, you eavesdropped on their conversation.
“You really are a fool, V.”
V? He’s V?
“Am I? Coming to my territory, hiding in my turf and having the nerve to taking my woman? You should be thankful I came here and not my men. I’m afraid they aren’t as charitable as I am.” A cold chill ran down your spine as if someone slid an ice cube down your back. His voice was cold, calculated as if he was drained of any emotion besides silent rage.
“Where is she?”
“Aw, now you put away the venom. She really has you wrapped around her finger.” The woman came close to Taehyung, having the gull to touch his jaw with a wicked smile on her lips.
Is this the world Taehyung lives in?
“Beg. I want to hear the great V pathetically beg for his little girlfriend’s life.” You saw him get down on his knees, you could tell he was gritting his teeth as he spat his next words.
“Please. She’s innocent to the life I lead, someone I should have never tainted with my cursed soul. Let her go, I’m begging you. It’s me you wanted anyways.”
“Bring her out.” You watched as a man carried a passed out Soyou, her face covered in soot and her clothes tattered. What did they do to her?
“Looks like I clipped your little angel’s wings. But don’t worry, she’s still breathing.”
“I’m so sorry they did this to you. I-“
“Sorry to interrupt your little monologue but I’m here for a deal.”
“What?” He barked, the coldness was back.
“Oh, you can’t get all prickly with me. I kept her alive, didn’t I? Killing her would give me pleasure but I want more than that.”
“What is it?”
“I want the White Rabbit.” White Rabbit? What is that?
“You talk big, don’t you?”
“I’m a woman with ambitions, V. After all, is this woman not worth as much?”
“Let me think about it.” He crossed his finger behind his back, was that a signal to someone? To answer your question, you heard a volley of gunshots. You shut your eyes tight, covering your ears as the shots rang out and you tried to sneak back out the building. You hurriedly got in the car, your heart racing as you sat.
He had a shooter hidden in the building already? Was this common for him? You didn’t see him flinch as the shooting started, still as a statue.
“Miss Y/N?”
“Who are you?”
“A friend of V, miss. He has instructed that I take you home.”
“Where’s my friend? She was in there-”
“I know you’re scared but Mr. V will take care of it.”
“No-” You tried to open the door, the handle not budging as the man drove you off.
“What the fuck? You know kidnapping is a fucking crime, right?”
“I’ve done worse, Miss.” Your eyes widen at his statement, quickly giving up on resisting the man. He claims to be a friend of Taehyung who is also the infamous V. If the gunfire you heard was evidence of the people who were his friends, it would be wiser to cooperate.
He stopped in front of your building, you quickly got out and the man rolled down the window to leave with one thought.
“He always keeps his promise.”
Those words took root in your mind as you waited for a response from Soyou. It had been a week since you last saw her, trying to pretend that you weren’t desperately missing her. Just a simple phone is all you wished for.
You just remember seeing Taehyung take her phone before the two of you set out for her. If it didn’t work out, would he just make her disappear? The thought was disrupted by your phone loudly ringing and you answered without a second thought.
“Soyou? Are you alright?”
“Bunny. She’s at the Memorial Hospital, room 2305.” You heard his voice instead, your throat suddenly drying up and you just murmured an okay before hanging up.
You were running down the hall to the annoyance of a few nurses until you opened the door to her room.
“Soyou?”
“Y/N!”
“I was so worried.” You cried, tears already welling in your eyes before you could think and held her hand.
“Psh. I’m a lot tougher than I look, you know.”
“It didn’t hurt that I had a gorgeous man waiting on me hand and foot.” You looked back to where Soyou was staring, looking at Taehyung who shied away from eye contact. Has he been here the whole time?
“The nurses totally thought we were dating until I set them straight.”
“I’m too bad for you anyways.”
“Please, you carried up this huge teddy bear because I said Y/N liked them.”
“Soyou!” Taehyung snapped, Soyou giggling at his blushing face. You stayed silent, glancing at the bear that sat on the side table. The two of them bickered some more, you quietly excuse yourself to take a breather.
Wrapping your head around Taehyung being who he is. It was mind-numbing, to say the least, but seeing him acting so jovial, so carefree when he can speak so coldly, be so callous and stood still as he basically orders someone to kill.
His life was much more than yours was, a life where him getting close to someone meant they were dragged into it whether they know about it or not. That should have been you in that hospital gown, spending a week in a hospital because you fell for a man with secrets. Secrets that are enough to cost you your life.
It’s shameful how you managed to show your face to Soyou when it’s your fault she’s here in the first place. What a horrible friend you are.
“It’s not your fault.” You looked up to see Taehyung standing in front of you and you turned away from him.
“I know you saw, Kai told me you did.”
“If I knew who you were, I would have never… Soyou wouldn’t be like this.”
“I know. It’s my fault, this is just more sins I should atone for. Getting Soyou hurt, putting you in danger, hurting you in the process. I don’t think a universe filled with I’m sorry would be enough for everything I��ve done. But I am still sorry about it.”
“Taehyung. Please.”
“I made a promise to protect you. Even if it means we never meet again, I’m going to keep my word, bunny.”
“Listen, Taehyung.”
“I’m sorry.” He bowed to you before walking off. You wanted to call out to him, give him a piece of your mind for not letting you speak and saying everything that you’ve been wanting to say since you last saw him but you could make two steps before he was out of your sight.
It’s always the last words with him, huh.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
You helped Soyou get to her house, driving her house as she was discharged two weeks after your first visit. Taehyung vanished like a shadow, you never heard a word from him since. You kept it that way, putting your energy into rebuilding your life again.
“Did you and Tae have a fallout?”
“What?”
“Y/N, I can see that lovelorn kind of look on your face. It’s been like that for the past 2 weeks, it’s kind of sickening really.”
“Lovelorn, So? I’m not in love.”
“Please. Don’t try to fool me, I’ve watched too many romantic movies to know the situation we’re in. You blame yourself for what happened, and you don’t want Taehyung around because he’s a reminder of it.”
“Even if that’s true?”
“Then, you’re an idiot.”
“Gee, and I was trying to be a good best friend.”
“So am I. I’m not going to let my best friend miss her chance at happiness. You don’t have to punish yourself for me, I’ve forgiven you for worse things.”
“Like what?”
“Letting me wear white after Arbour day.” You looked at her for a minute, gauging how serious she was before bursting out into laughter.
“Seriously.” You said, Soyou laughing with you.
“But seriously, get your butt in gear. We have to transform you into a woman that Tae can’t keep his hands off of. A femme fatale, in simple words.”
“Soyou? What did you plan?”
“Just go with it.”
“Isn’t that what you said to me about Taehyung the first time?”
“Oh shut it, you’re in love with him now.”
“Am not.” You sassed, Soyou rolling her eyes as she pushed you into her bedroom.
“Let me work my magic.”
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
Soyou led you out the door, you saw the man from that day bowing. His name was Kai, wasn’t it?
“Miss Y/N, Miss Soyou.”
“Is this part of your plan?”
“Of course. Plus seeing Kai in a suit is a little bonus for me.” You saw her wink at him to which he coughed to cover up the fact he was blushing.
“Do you realize what you’re getting into?”
“I don’t mind playing with little fire, Y/N.”
“Okay, I’m leaving before you start with bedroom eyes.” You got into the car, Kai hopping into the driver’s seat.
“Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss. V wants you to be blindfolded even.”
“Still wants to keep secrets, huh.”
“May I?”
“Go ahead.” The cotton scarf felt soft around your face as a knot was skillfully tied behind your head. You sat in anticipation, anxious about what this plan Soyou devised entails. The car finally stopped and you heard someone else open the door, you blindly taking their hand.
“I’ll lead the way.” You could only follow, holding onto an arm and walking up to what you believed was an elevator from the ding you heard. He led you in, the time you’re spending only making you more nervous.
“It’ll be alright, Miss.”
“I hope so.”
“Miss Soyou really cares about you as does V, even though he tries his best to hide it. I could dare say he loves you.” You thought you heard rustling but you dismissed as your nerves talking.
“But I can see that you both care for each other from how Miss Soyou describes you both.” Note to self: Give Soyou a piece of your mind next time.
“Ah, we’re here.” You followed, walking down a corridor and heard a door click.
“I can take it from here.” You pushed the blindfold up, seeing you holding onto Taehyung.
“You were there since I got out of the car, weren’t you?”
“You noticed.”
“For Kai to suddenly smell like your cologne was a dead giveaway, Taehyung.”
“I’m too good for the cheap one he buys.” You rolled your eyes, letting go of him and taking a few steps back.
You bit your lip, fighting the smile that threatened to show. Was it always this easy for him to toy with you like this?
“He was right, Kai I mean. About me loving you.”
“Taehyung.”
“I’m sorry. I know these aren’t the words you want to hear. Not from me, at least.” He’s still there. That goofball that stumbles on his words, teases you constantly and has more cheesy lines than a cheese factory.
“Are you willing to listen to what I have to say? Whatever it is.” He took a seat, you stayed standing.
“Yes.” You gave him a look, him nervously scratching his neck and you took a deep breath.
“I missed you. The part of you that you showed me, even when you rattled me up into some stupid bets. But when I saw you there, how emotionless you were, I was afraid. Afraid of V. Like everyone else was. Seeing you at the hospital confused me too because I thought it was all an act. That cold man is who you should be.” You looked him in the eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t say a word until he knew you were done.
“But I know it’s not. I feel it in my heart, that smile you give me, those flowers you sent me… It was all real. So I want to accept you, all of you.” You sat in his lap, cupping his cheek before pressing your lips against his.
You kept it brief, gently pulling away and resting your forehead on his.
“Give me everything, Taehyung.” You whispered, Taehyung taking his turn to kiss you. It was more passionate as if he were pouring his heart into every movement of his lips against yours.
Yet it was hot, his tongue playing with you smoothly as he kissed you deeply. His hands found your zipper, the dress giving him no resistance and it pooled in his lap.
“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin, pressing kisses along your neck. You made work of his shirt, revealing his chest as he played with your nipples through your bra.
You let out a moan to his pleasure, you began to ground your hips against him. A groan gave you the push to keep going, changing the rhythm your hips followed.
“Shit. Bunny.”
“Hm? What is it, Taehyung?”
“Don’t play coy, baby. I’m not afraid to punish you tonight.”
“Don’t act all tough with me, I know you’re wrapped around my finger.”
“Is that so?”
“Prove me wrong then.” A sardonic smile was on his face, knowing that he hated to lose. He took you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress hard while his hands rest on either side of your head.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He muttered against your lips, roughly taking your lips. His hands were more callous while touching you, ridding you of your underwear with one hand as if it were a simple task.
His hand dipped between your legs, crudely finding your clit and rubbing fast circles.
“No bite now, bunny? You’re wet enough to soak the sheets.”
“Rich coming from the man who’s hard as a rock.” You pressed your knee against his crotch, rubbing it through his dress pants.
“I’d be crazy if I wasn’t. Hearing you shamelessly moan my name while I pound you into the mattress, gripping the sheets hopelessly. Begging for more like the horny little bunny you are.”
“Don’t even bother to deny it, your pussy is soaking my fingers as we speak.”
“You’re a dirty man.”
“And you love it, Y/N.” He dipped down, moving his body down the bed and pushing your legs up and open for him.
You wouldn’t have the chance to speak, his tongue quickly pressed against your cunt. It took everything in you to stop salacious sounds from escaping your lips but a quick swirl of his tongue on your clit opened them like Pandora’s box.
The long strokes of his tongue alternated with short licks before you felt it enter you. Embarrassment flushed you as you heard wet sounds each time he dipped his tongue in. Soon his fingers would replace his tongue, two entering you without much.
“I want to hear more. Come on.” He smacked your thigh, eliciting a whimper from you. His thumb played with your clit as his fingers pumped fast and deep. You knew he had experience under his belt with looks like his but you were already a mess so early on.
“Show me more of that expression, bunny. I want to see how you look when you come.” He pressed on further, his fingers finding your g-shot and your clit beginning to feel overstimulated.
“Come for me.” You arched your back, toes curling and he pumped his finger while you rode out your high.
“Good girl.” You looked at him, licking his fingers clean and you sat up.
“Let me return the favour.” You said, reaching for his belt and he helped you reveal his dick. From grinding earlier, you figured he was above average but he was more than you imagined.
“You can’t intimidate my cock into getting harder by staring, you know.”
“Sorry. Just admiring.”
“Carry on.”
“Dick.”
“Funny.”
“Can be when I want to be.” You positioned him to lie down, gripping the shaft and begin slow twisting pumps, using your spit to lubricate before sinking your mouth around him.
“Oh, fuck.” You found a pace that made him twitch in your mouth, milking delicious grunts and growls from him in the process. His hands tangled in your hair as if he were controlling your pace but the loose grip let you know you were really in control.
“Shit, slow down.” You let him out of your mouth, still pumping him and licking your lip.
“Let me get a condom.” He looked through the drawer next to the bed, you took the chance to smack his ass to which he shot you a glance.
“What, you have nice cheeks.”
“So do you. Would look real nice with my handprints.”
“Want to test that?”
“Such a naughty bunny.” He retorted, flipping you on your stomach. His shins rested on the mattress on either side of your legs, one hand gripping his dick as the other held you still.
“Please, Tae. I want to feel you.” He plunged into you, the thick girth making you gasp as he slowly entered you.
“Are you okay, bunny? Does it hurt?” He pressed delicate kisses along your shoulder blades, trying to keep still until you spoke.
“I’m alright, Tae, you can move.” You breathed out.
Taehyung kept true to his word, only giving you a few slow strokes before he began his merciless thrusts. Your butt jiggled with each thrust, his hand periodically giving slaps to each cheek.
“Fuck, Taehyung.” You mewled out, unable to say more as he drilled into you. The delectable stretch you felt with each thrust numbed your mind as you felt your cunt set ablaze.
Your body grew hot, sweat forming all over your body and you could only vocalize sounds of pleasure. Taehyung’s grunts only made you wetter, allowing him to slide into your further and drive you even crazier.
“Love the way you clench -nng around me, bunny.”
“Gonna mould this pussy into the shape of my cock, do you want that, huh?”
“Fuck, please- ng. Hnng.” He slapped your ass in response, changing his pace and slid almost out of you before slamming himself back in.
“T-tae.” No words left his lips, only loud growls and grunts with the new rhythm he followed.
You cried out as one odd thrust made you come again and he kept going. Changing his pace again, his dick was perfectly angled to your g-spot and you whined from the overstimulation.
You were losing your mind, was sex always this good or was it because of Taehyung? Taehyung wouldn’t allow you to dwell on the question, pulling you back to edge of another orgasm with his touch on your clit.
“Fuck.”
“Clench around me, bunny.” You did as he asked, a low groan in your ear as a reward before he began to sloppily thrust in you. He stopped, cursing as he finally came.
“Are you alright, bunny?”He pulled out, removing the condom as you two regained your breaths. He went into the bathroom, getting something.
“Yeah.” You responded as he re-entered the room, him carefully wiping the sweat off of you.
“Good, it’s time for round two.”
“Taehyung, we don’t have to fuck like rabbits, you know.”He chuckled at your response, getting next to you and you shielded your self with your arms.
“I meant cuddles, bunny.”
“Now, come here. I don’t ever want to let you go again.”
#bts#bts smut#taehyung smut#bts reader insert#bts x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung x reader#bts taehyung#taehyung imagine#bts imagines#bts scenario#bts scenarios#taehyung scenarios#taehyung#smut#bts fanfic#taehyung fanfic
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yoongi - Exhausted
》 Pairing: Poor Single mum reader x Rich CEO Yoongi
》 Summary: Living in a rundown apartment, trying to raise a 7 year old and balancing one full time job and part time job on Saturdays was hard and tiring. What happens when you discover your crush on your boss, Yoongi. What if he happens to like you back.
Genre: Fluff
》 Word count: 3k
》 Notes/ Warnings: One swearword used, She/her pronouns used, reader faints, talk of over working
Masterlist | Requests & messages are open
Its 8pm on a Sunday evening when Yuna trudges into your room, yawning. You put the book you was reading down and chuckle when Yuna flops down onto the bed, headfirst and move a hand to stoke her messy hair.
“Mumma, the machine in the kitchen is making a funny sound again” she mumbles into the duvet. The machine that she was talking about was the washing machine, you know its not been doing well over the past few days, but your trying to make it last as long as it can. You might have just enough to buy a second hand one again if you’re lucky.
You sighed, “It’s okay, Mumma will sort it”
She dramatically throws herself so that she is now facing the ceiling, her eyes fluttering from tiredness. Her yellow pyjamas already on ready for bed, her hair a fluffy mess and her chubby cheeks slightly pink from the summer heat.
“Let’s get you to bed” you whisper to her, picking her up and walking towards her room.
You set her down in bed and tuck her in, brushing some hair out of her face. Kissing her forehead, you mumble “I love you sweet pea”
“M, love you” Yuna whispers so quietly, you almost miss it.
You get up and close the door with a low click. Turning around, you are faced with the poor excuse of an open plan apartment. The wallpaper was an odd, faded shade of grey, some of it bubbling off in the corner next to the front door from it being damp. It was a small apartment, the kitchen, living room and dining room squashed into one room. Yuna had the biggest room in the apartment and you tried to decorate the best you could. Her walls were pink, and her room was scattered with toys.
You was 18 when you had Yuna and your life turned upside down. Cliché but true. There were a lot of comments on how stupid you were to get pregnant and how irresponsible you were for not being careful enough at such a crucial point in your life. I mean, you saved up to go to university but all of that went down hill when you found yourself with Yuna, all of the money you saved went to her. Your parents kicked you out because they disapproved, after all, they always tried to plan your life. You never did live for yourself, it was always their plan, their way of living.
The worst of it was that the boy that got you pregnant. The boy you thought you would live forever with. Left. Once he heard you were pregnant, he fled and just wanted you so that he had someone he could bang ever now and then. He left, changing his phone number and even moved house. He was your everything, you thought he loved you, but clearly it was a lie. You rolled your eyes at the whole ordeal, you weren’t sad, but you were slightly angry, mainly at yourself at believing in something like love.
You shook your head, not wanting to think about this, you had to get ready for tomorrow. In the next 3 hours, you cleaned the house and sorted some emails before tomorrow, cooking some food for lunch and making Yuna’s pack up.
Yawning, you headed to your room, the bed digging into your back as you laid down. Checking to make sure that you set your alarm, you fell into a dreamless sleep.
You wake up to a series of banging on the front door, scaring the living daylights out of you. You stumble out of bed, trying not to fall over from being tangled around the duvet. However, your limbs didn’t cooperate with you and you fell onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud.
“fuck” you wheeze out
Another load of banging had you up and onto your feet, your hands trying to tame your bed hair.
“Happy Monday” An excited voice greets you once you open the door. You stare blankly at Taehyung as he smiles at you brightly. ‘It’s too early for this’, you thought.
“TaeTae” You hear a shout come from behind you as your shoved out of the way by your own daughter so that she can jump into his Taehyung’s arms.
“Hello, my little cuddle bunny” His face seems to light up even more when Yuna places her small hands on his cheeks and leans to kiss his nose.
You close the door behind them when they walk in, heading to the coffee pot.
“I’ll be right back” you mutter to them, though, you doubt that either of them heard you as they talk animatedly about how Yuna is going to write about a unicorn in her writing class today, as the theme was imagination. Gosh, how you wish you could back to that point in your life.
You get ready fairly quickly, your hair now suitable for a work environment. You were dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, deciding to ditch the blazer as the temperature was supposed to be high today.
You walk out and get a cup of coffee that was already sat on the side; Taehyung must have poured you a cup. You sit on the couch as Tae and Yuna sit in front of you, Tae drinking his coffee and Yuna eating some cereal, both of them fascinated by Strawberry Shortcake on the TV. You wonder if Taehyung is even the same age at you, as you watch him smiling at the kids show.
Checking the time, you realise that you probably set off now so that you are there on time. You lower yourself and kiss Yuna’s head, “Okay, I’m going now. I love you Yuna, make sure that Tae doesn’t forget his phone again” you chuckle.
“Heyyy, I’m the babysitter. Bye have a good day, don’t work too hard” Tae whines.
“Bye Tae” You say as you ruffle his hair. As you close the door, you hear Taehyung yell at you for messing with his hair.
You had a very boring office job from Monday – Friday and a small part-time job on Saturday, leaving Sunday for you and Yuna. You try to spend at much time with her as you can, trying to make up for the loss of another parent as well as the amount of hours that you don’t see her due to work. Sometimes you wonder if she is closer to Taehyung because of this. Taehyung has been with you and Yuna since she was born, as you met him just before you were pregnant. He was the only friend that stayed with you throughout the whole ordeal. He was like your big brother. – He was only a few months older.
The office job you had was boring. Mr Min, the CEO, was weird. He was handsome, but always looked cold, even though you doubt that he is as you often see his gummy smile. However, at least once a day you saw him. He always checked up on you, asking you to go to his office to ask if you’re alright or if you need help. He was amazing, he currently had silver hair that suited him so well, he was extra kind to you, he smiled a little more when with you compared to when he was with someone else. You blinked hard, pausing your steps. ‘Ah, shit. I think I like my boss’, you thought.
‘No, I can’t do that, I have Yuna. She comes first’
You was so caught up in your head that you didn’t notice another voice calling for you as you walked through the office.
“Hello? Ms L/N?” You jumped at the closeness of the voice, turning around to find Mr Min looking at you with an eyebrow raised, an amused smile coating his red, kissable lips. You quickly register that he said something and shake your head, nope we are not going there.
“Oh, Hi, yes hello, sorry” You stumbled over your words, an awkward smile on your face.
“How are you today Ms L/N?” He stares down at you.
“I’m okay thank you Mr Min” You say, stopping yourself from starring at his handsome features. “How are you?”
“I am fine, thank you” He runs a hand through his already messy hair and bids you goodbye as he closes the door to his office.
The only other bad thing about your job, other than it being boring, was the manager of your sector. He was always angry not matter what, you think you did a good job? Wrong. You think you’re done for the day? Wrong, there’s more work on your desk. He was horrible. You always ended up with twice your workload. More often that not, you would be working overtime. You couldn’t even count the amount of times you have had to call Taehyung and ask if he could stay later with Yuna, promising to buy him food.
Sitting down at your desk, you stretched first before logging on, you sigh looking at the photo of you and Yuna on your desk. All you could think about was working hard so that Yuna had a better life than this. A better life than the one that you live. The bad thing was, was that you didn’t even notice that your battery was running out. Quickly.
It was Friday morning when your manager came up to your desk and piled yet another load on your already cramped desk. In an authoritative tone he said “Y/N on my desk by the end of the day”.
You looked at your checklist on the post-it note on your computer, it was going to be a long day. Even though it was only 11am, you rang Tae and asked if he could stay later and that you promise to get him food and pay him extra, seeing as it was a Friday night.
You already felt disoriented this morning, your head throbbing as you lazily gazed at the manila folders on your desk. Realising that you forgot one of the folders in Mr Min’s office from this morning, you get up and head to his office. However, you don’t make it very far as a wave of dizziness crashed over you, you balanced yourself against the wall of the corridor and closed your eyes, breathing deeply for a second, composing yourself. You knocked on the door of his office and bowed once you entered, trying to muster a smile on your face. You just need to make it through today and it will all be fine.
“Hello, Ms L/N. How can I help?” He asks in a husky voice, trying to suppress his anger from his previous meeting. He looks down at his computer for a minute, expecting to hear you say something but when you don’t, he looks up at you. Your eyes seemed unfocused, your body swaying a bit as your whole-body shakes.
The ground beneath you seemed to spin as your eyesight got blurry, the pounding in your head getting worse by the second. With nothing to hold onto, your knees buckle under your weight, fear courses through Yoongi’s body as he catches you, just before you fall, pulling you into his chest. His hands shook as he called an ambulance, his voice wavering a bit. He didn’t know why he was so scared, you only passed out, you weren’t dying. Yet, he couldn’t stop shaking.
He was an idiot, he saw the signs of exhaustion as soon as you walked in on Monday, why didn’t he give you the week off, you was one of the most hard-working employees that he had. For his own selfish reasons, he didn’t want you to be off, he wanted to see you as much as possible. Yoongi admits that he did develop a small crush on, he wanted to know anything and everything about you. However, this was harder than he thought as you were a very closed off person, you hardly ever talked about your personal life and you always tried to keep the conversation topic to work. It wasn’t often when he saw you express your emotions, but when you smiled at him, his heart beat a little faster.
When you open your eyes, you’re greeted with a bright light, causing you to groan as you can faintly hear a little girls voice.
“Mum, Mum”
You blink a few more times as you come face to face with Yuna, her lips trembling and tears already cascading down her face. She pounces on to you, hugging you tightly. You wheeze, your eyes going wide from the hug attack.
“I was so worried when TaeTae came to pick me up” Her voice wavering.
“Aw, Yuna, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just fell asleep at work. Silly mum huh” You wipe away her ears and squish her chubby cheeks together, making her giggle.
“Come on bun, lets get your mum a drink from the vending machine” Taehyung comes to pick her up and bounces her up and down his arms. He looks back at you with a tired smile, concern written over his face. Looks like your going to have a long talk when you get back home.
A cough came from the right of you, turning your head, you find your boss sat that. Mr Min. He got up slowly to pour you a cup of water.
“Here” He have you the plastic cup and you took it with a small thanks.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you was feeling unwell?” He questioned, sitting on the seat next to the bed. It looked like he was going to reach a hand out towards you, but thought better of it as he lowered it, rubbing the back of his neck.
All you could do was shrug to his question, “I didn’t think it was important”. Your voice was so quiet, you didn’t think he heard it, but he did.
“Well, it is important.” He hesitated to say the next sentence “You know that I’m always here, right? I know that I am the big CEO, that I don’t always look friendly. But I want to get to know you. I don’t want to talk about just work, I want to know how you feel, what makes you happy, what makes you sad. I want to know you, Y/N. I want to know all about that little girl that came rushing to your bed in tears. The little girl that questioned why you was asleep. The little girl that resembles you so much”
You were speechless. No one wanted to get to know you, not since him. Although you did have a crush on him, you thought that you could never date, Yuna always being your top priority.
“You know that Taehyung told me everything” You looked up at him with wide eyes. Taehyung did WHAT? He knew about your crush, when you realised it on Monday, you nearly had a full-on melt down once you got home. Taehyung was, of course, there for you, telling you having a crush on someone was normal and it was completely fine. However, you were adamant that this was bad, you couldn’t bring someone else in your life, what happens if he leaves, you don’t think you could go through something like that again. Or what happens if Yuna doesn’t like him? Or he leaves and Yuna is already attached to him? You couldn’t do that to her.
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t hear Yoongi move to sit next to you on the hospital bed. This time, he didn’t hesitate to bring his hand up to move hair out of you face. You looked up at him with blurry eyes, tears threatening to escape. You were confused, exhausted, and stressed.
“I don’t know how long I can go on for like this” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’ve taken care of her for 7 years; Tae is her babysitter. He is always there if I need him, but I won’t be able to rely on him forever, he is always on the edge of his seat, waiting for me to call him and ask something else of him. I’m scared that one day, he will walk away, just like everyone else.” You added the last bit on, no longer scared of Yoongi’s reaction. You were just so, so tired.
Yoongi’s heart broke at both the words that you spoke and the tone of your voice. You were such a strong woman. He wanted to take all of the pressure of you, he wanted to give you the world. It’s what you deserved.
“Please let me take care of you now” He whispered, his hand lingering on your cheek.
“How do I know you won’t leave?” Your actions betrayed your words as you leaned into his touch.
“Trust me. Let me prove to you that I’m here and I always will be. Please let me in” he begged, his eyes showing nothing but love and care.
Your body started to shake as you sat up and threw yourself at him, hugging him. His arms went around your waist as he moved the both of you so that you were now sat in his lap. He cooed and whispered soothing words to you as your body wracked with sobs, you couldn’t stop crying.
“I trust you” you whispered into his ear, your breath causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.
When Yuna and Tae walked through the door, laughing loudly, they noticed that you were both passed out. You were on Yoongi’s lap, your head tucked into his chest, whilst his chin rested on top of your head. Both of your arms wrapped around each other.
“Is Mummy safe with that man” Yuna whispers into Taehyung’s ear. Taehyung smiled widely at the both of you, taking his phone out of his pocket to take a picture of the two of you, “Of course she is, Mumma has just found her prince. Now, let’s go and get ice cream”
Next: Mothers day
#bts#yoongi#bts yoongi#bts suga#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi fluff#yoongi imagine#yoongi drabble#yoongi fic#suga x reader#suga imagine#suga drabble#yoongi oneshot#bts x reader#ceo!yoongi#ceo yoongi#jimin#jin#jungkook#taehyung#rm#namjoon#jhope#hoseok#suga#bts imagine#bts drabble#bts oneshot#bts fic
246 notes
·
View notes
Text
OVERLOAD & BUNNY GIRL
[ prologue ]
SUMMARY: A new small group of villains is spreading chaos all over Japan and no hero agency seem to know what to do about them — they are perfectly organized, always manage to escape arrest, never cause any casualties and its members remain impossible to identify. All heroes can do is wait for them to strike again and hope that they will be able to capture them. Convinced that she can do a better job than everyone else, a rising Pro, Rabbit Hero: Mirko, dives in head first into an investigation and realizes too late that she might be biting more than she can chew.
mirko x villain!female!oc
Of all the popular spots in the city, there were few that she found more despicable than the Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall. Unnecessarily vast, stores spreading endlessly under her gaze, bright colors ready to blind anyone who stared too intently or for too long. And loud. It was so goddamn loud, no matter what time of the day she visited that cursed mall, it was always filled to the brim with obnoxiously loud people — the hustle and bustle of life had never been much of a bother to her, but there, stuck in a crowd that she could barely escape when tucked away in a corner, everything was too much.
In spite of all that, in spite of her boss knowing exactly how much she hated that place, he still sent her there for his ridiculous scouting mission. There was absolutely no point in scouting the place when it was so easy to find a map with every store on it, was there?
She let out a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over her eyes. If it were not for this tenuous task, she could have been home, settled comfortably under a heavy blanket to watch videos of superheroes getting their ass kicked, or compilations of the most awkward superhero moments in superhero history, on her phone. But she was stuck there instead, leaning against a pillar, desperately trying to avoid any sort of physical contact with those who passed too close to her.
"You look so stiff your attitude screams super-villain. Relax and live a little, Overload."
The grating voice came suddenly from her earpiece, making her wince. She could not resist the urge to press a hand to her ear, even though she knew it was useless to chase the noise away.
"Don't call me that," she whispered, not bothering to try to hide her annoyance. She had never felt the need to have a Villain name — she was not one of those people who needed to show with their fancy Quirk and their fancy code-name that bore little to no meaning. Obnoxious.
"Then relax and start looking like you at least aren't here against your will." Her partner's tone was teasing, once again a reminder to live a little. "People are staring. But maybe that's 'cause you're super hot."
Her only response was a groan. It was always like that between the two of them. He tried to tell her to not be so stiff, she complained, he tried to flirt, she ignored him for three days in a row. He was far from being a terrible person, not a constant buzzing annoyance, and his playful flirting could be quite amusing at times (but that much she could not bring herself to say out loud, as it would merely encourage him further). He was no good person either, though. Neither of them was. But that was the whole point, was it not?
She looked up at the floor above her, easily spotting his large figure in the crowd. He was leaning over the railing, watching her with too intense eyes, and all she wanted was to show him her middle fingers. But that was impossible. It would only bring attention to their connection, something they could not afford right now. Discretion was the whole point of their mission today. Observing without being noticed — why their boss would send both their tallest male and female members for such a task was beyond her.
So annoying and entirely useless if you asked her.
"Second store on your left. Big one. Looks like there'd be loads of cameras. Check it out."
Even from down there, she could see that he looked pleased with his suggestion. No matter what that store sold, she already knew that she would hate it and want to burn it to the ground. But she did not speak her mind. She simply hummed, took out her phone to pretend to check something, and made her way to the store that Boomboom had indicated.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered under her breath at the terrible sight that spread under her eyes like an endless nightmare.
It did not take more than two seconds for a loud laugh to echo in her ear, Boomboom much too happy about her reaction to try to hide his — even though he knew that he needed to be discreet and not bring attention to himself, he was laughing like an idiot. Too pleased with himself and the fact that he had guided her to a superhero merchandise store.
She was surrounded by capes, costumes, mugs, figures, posters, and various decorations that were brightly colored and shaped like the Quirk users that the common folk admired more than they ought to. That store was hell on earth, but she could not afford to run away now that she had stepped inside. She needed to spot every camera in the store, that was her mission. A mission that she hated with a burning passion.
So, instead of fleeing the scene as she wished she could, and escaping that nightmare of a vision, she walked around, pretending to examine the contents of the rows of shelves, picking up a mug here and there only to put in back down. She had to dodge several too excited children screaming about All Might and Kamui Woods and whatever other Pro Hero kids liked nowadays.
It was only when she approached the counter at the back of the store that she found something that piqued her interest. Protected by glass panels, stood a little exhibit of figures, statues, pins, and other memorabilia that she could not help but admire. There was a banner that rested above the shelf, white letters on a beautiful shade of muted red; ‘Heroes Of Our Childhood’ it read.
She knelt in front of the display, her eyes moving from one side of the lowest shelf to the other.
“You like vintage heroes, uh?”
The voice belonged an employee she had spotted when nearing the back of the store. He was not particularly tall or handsome, he was not particularly anything, really. A very plain looking man that she would not have even looked at, had it not been for her mission. He had a kind smile, though — a man who seemed like he could be trusted. But she did not trust anyone.
With a deep breath, she brought a hand up to her earpiece and disconnected it, refusing to let Boomboom hear any part of the conversation that was bound to follow.
“Why aren’t Locked & Loaded together?” she inquired, still too entranced by the display to look at the man.
“You know Locked & Loaded?”
There was a tint of admiration and excitement in the man’s voice, and finally, she looked away from the shelf. The man’s eyes were wide open in surprise, apparently caught off guard by her knowledge.
“We’ve had this display up for a bit over a week now, and nobody has ever noticed that Locked & Loaded are on opposite sides of the shelf,” the employee explained, kneeling by her side. “I had this idea that I would sell them at a reduced price to whoever realized that they belonged in a set, since I never expected that someone would recognize them.”
He scratched at the back of his head, the gesture almost bashful.
“Are you interested in buying them?” he asked, his voice barely containing his excitement. “I can do two-for-one, for someone like you.”
He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering just a second too long on the sliver of skin that peaked between her jeans and crop top. Ah. No matter how kind and trustworthy that man looked, he was one of those guys. She could not point it, could not make a scene, had no desire to bring any attention to herself right now, in the middle of a mission, so she merely shook her head at the offer and tried her best to give him a small smile.
“Regular price, please. The names of heroes like Locked & Loaded shouldn’t be tainted by reduced prices.”
What was she even saying? She should not be refusing such a generous offer when she barely made any money, should not be spewing such chivalrous nonsense about long gone Pro Heroes, but there she was, unable to stop herself from talking. It was a good thing that she had had enough sense to cut the connection with Boomboom, or she would have never heard the end of it — the man loved to tease her more than enough as it was, and he definitely did not need more reasons to keep teasing her.
“Wait for me at the counter while I get Locked & Loaded ready for you!”
She stood up, knees cracking inelegantly as she did, and made her way to the counter as the employee disappeared behind a door. The counter was just as obnoxious as the rest of the store, bright young heroes, and their bright costumes; pins, patches, and other small objects that nobody could possibly have a use for. There were tiny figures standing on the counter as well, far from the high quality and details of the statues she was about to buy. Her eyes landed on one that only appeared taller than the others because of the white bunny ears sprouting from its little head. Tan skin, fluffy ears and a body suit that did not cover any of the taut muscles of the female hero.
"Interested in Mirko?" the employee asked as he came back from the concealed room, large box under his arm.
"A bunny girl?" She blinked, unable to look away from the unexpected hero. "Is this what Pro Heroes have come to?"
The man laughed, "we can’t choose our Quirks, right? She's a rising Pro Hero. Really popular lately, super strong legs. She kicks villain butts!"
She only hummed at the words and finally looked away from the small figure. Bunny hero was weirdly cute, in a way. As cute as extremely muscular heroes in a tight and revealing body suit can be (not all that much, all in all).
The employee reached over the register to grab the small figure and placed it in the bag he had prepared, on top of the box that contained the statues that she was about to waste her money on. Why was she even buying them? It would bring her any sort of joy, would it? She had no idea where in her apartment there even would be room for them. What would she do with a mini bunny girl?
Probably sensing her confusion at the gesture, he spoke up.
“It’s a gift. I’m a fan of Mirko, and I was always a fan of Locked & Loaded, so I hope that one day, you’ll look at Mirko the way you looked at these Locked & Loaded statues.”
The smile he directed at her was soft, kind, genuine, but she could only arc an eyebrow at his words.
“I highly doubt I will ever look at any hero the way I looked at them.”
His smile remained. Obnoxious.
“You never know!”
Definitely obnoxious. People who thought they knew better were insufferable and exhausting to talk to — which was why she always avoided conversations with her boss so carefully.
Her money wasted, credit card back in her pocket, she headed out of the store, not without casting a last glance around the place, making sure that she had spotted every camera there. It was what she had gone inside for, after all, not to buy some Pro Hero merchandise.
“Yo!”
She jumped, every muscle in her body tensing as she readied herself to throw a punch, but Boomboom’s large silhouette was casting a shadow over her, protecting her from the overbearing sun that would have otherwise undoubtedly hurt her eyes.
“You know it’s not good for us to be spotted together, right?”
He only shrugged. Under her questioning gaze, he finally tapped his ear.
“You disconnected. And Bossman said we should head back to HQ.”
Her lips formed a surprised little ‘o’ shape. She had turned off her earpiece to make sure that Boomboom would not hear her talk about superheroes to the employee of that stupid store.
When Boomboom’s eyes fell on the bag clasped in her hand, her grip on it only tightened, and she moved it behind her back, out of his sight, as if it would actually quench his curiosity.
“Whatcha got in there? Don’t you hate Pros more than Bossman does?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“I bought something so I wouldn’t look too suspicious after looking around for so long. It’s nothing interesting.”
Boomboom’s grin showed too many of his too white teeth.
“Show me!”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Show me or I’ll show myself.”
Boomboom was now frowning, and while she knew that he rarely was grumpy, she was too aware of his insatiably curious personality. She had never minded that particular trait of his; it made him cautious in general and a very good partner for missions, as he never hesitated to do research before going anywhere. But Boomboom also was much taller and had a lot more raw physical strength than she could ever dream to have. If he really wanted to take the bag from her, it would barely take him a minute.
“I’ll show you one thing?” her tone was unsure as she tried negotiation, but Boomboom still smiled, and she knew that it would be enough.
She fished the small bunny girl — no, Pro Hero — figure from the plastic bag and placed it in his large hand. He brought it closer to his face, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head to take a better look at it.
“Mirko the Rabbit Hero?” he questioned, seemingly confused, though he had clearly gotten the name right.
“Yes, bunny girl.”
Finally, he looked away from the small figure to look back at her.
“I didn’t expect her to be your type,” he said, almost too calmly, “but it makes sense. You do seem like you’d like them with abs and big biceps.”
“I look like I would like Pros with abs and big biceps?” It was her turn to be confused.
Boomboom shook his head. “Women. Not Pros.”
She gathered all the patience in her body to let out a sigh instead of unleashing her Quirk at full power in his face. Rather than give him the honor of reacting to his attempt at teasing her, she merely grabbed his arm and started to head for the exit of the cursed mall she had already spent too many hours in. At least it did not feel so bad with him right by her side — no matter how pleased with himself he looked. Boomboom was safe, he felt like home.
#bnha oc#mha oc#mha oc x canon#my hero academy oc#🖊️ overload & bunny girl#pre canon events#mirko isn't official top 5 yet in this#can you tell i'm obsessed with rumi yet?#ANYWAYS#now i go back to trying to write some x reader stuff
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
You’re My Sunshine
From Anon:
Hey girl! Would you mind doing another Jay Halstead pr maybe Jesse Lee Soffer imagine/one shot*? Maybe being the hidden girlfriend? Thanks hun!
Words: 2147 Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, canonical violence Pairing: Jay Halstead x Officer!Reader A/N: This ask has two viable one shots, actually. I did this one now, but I’ll probably pick up the JLS sometime in the future. Hope you like it, hun!
Deep down, both of you knew this day would come. The day when Voight barked out to bring a uniform up for an undercover stint, and the Intelligence member brought you up.
Jay tries to interfere and go with Adam as he goes to get one of the officers down at the lobby, but Voight quickly shuts him down, remembering him that Adam knew the suspect's type better than Jay. His jaw clenches and his hands close into fists as Adam goes down the stairs, already knowing you are going to be the one he brings up.
The two of you have been dating for a few months, and Jay liked having you to himself. By hiding your relationship, not only are the two of you not in the public eye for dating each other - the last thing you need is someone calling you a badge bunny and saying you're sleeping with Jay to climb the hierarchy - but you are also out of the line of immediate danger that comes with dating a law enforcement agent, inevitably becoming a target.
At first, Jay wasn't very keen on the idea of you: a new cop with shiny eyes and hope in the world; he knew you would be shattered by the job, and he didn't want to watch it. But then he started warming up to you. He couldn't pin down what you had done exactly, if it was how you refused to drop your kindness with Platt, or how you could offer an input that he hadn't seen, or how you would charge in, gun in hand with unwavering intent when someone's life was at risk... it was probably how you didn't try to take pity in him or treat him like a baby when you saw him having a particularly nasty flashback that made him freeze in the middle of the locker room. You had just grabbed his hands in yours and gently coaxed him out, giving him the visual help of the "Chicago Police Department" badge on your vest - you would never know how much it meant to him.
He had seen your determination falter over the time, but he always tried to make you get back up on the positivity horse; secretly, it kept him going too, the idea that someone could see so much good in the world and still believe in the best possible outcome. It was something rare and precious, in your line of work.
So, when Adam comes back to the bullpen with you in tow, Jay feels like punching him. He feels like going out on a solo manhunt and face the consequences of it, if it means that you won't be brought into this case. But he watches you walk into Voight's office and nod after the Sergeant explains what he called you up for. He knows that you would never refuse the opportunity to help other people - that's why you had become an officer in the first place.
He sits in his chair, resigned, as he watches you and Voight leave the office.
"So, officer (Y/L/N) will go undercover as an immigrant that needs help getting the rest of her family inside, no matter the cost." Voight says, pointing at the board. The pictures of 7 women are pinned in, their faces stuck in an eery, eternal smile, unknowing of the atrocities that committed against them. All they wanted was to give their families a better life.
Jay meets you in the locker room after he makes sure that no one saw the two of you entering, and crosses his arms.
"There's no chance I'm talking you out of this, is there?" He asks, his voice small and defeated. You turn back, already wearing your civilian clothes, and give him a reassuring smile as you lay your hands atop his forearms.
"I'm a good cop, and this will be over quickly." You say, lightly rubbing his arms. "It has to be done, they can't keep killing these women."
"What if something happens?" He asks, his brows furrowed - you don't quite grasp the seriousness and danger of this, and it worries him deeply. "It's more dangerous than you think."
"Jay... I've been a cop in Chicago for a while. A beat cop. I'm cussed at and thrown things at for existing. There, I'm going to be a girl that they're going to underestimate. The only way this can go wrong is if they figure out I'm a cop, and that's a risk every undercover takes, and that you have also taken several times." You grab his face. "It's going to be ok."
-
Unintentionally, you had jinxed yourself in your conversation with Jay. Not in a thousand years would you have thought that the measly drug dealer you arrested a couple weeks ago would be involved with a human trafficking ring, and when he saw you, you knew it was over. He shouted to everyone how you were a "pig", how you were there to arrest them all. You had stood your ground, unwavering, claiming you had never seen him before in your life and had no idea what he was blabbering about, but no one bought it. They ganged up on you and you knew that resistance was futile and would only hurt you further.
And now, 3 days later, here you are. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, laying on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere by the river, in between torture sessions. The big boss doesn't know who you work for - all he knows is that you're with law enforcement. He's too paranoid and knows that CPD isn't the only one after him, and even though he knows you're CPD, he has no idea if you're working directly for them or if you've been "scouted" by a bigger agency.
Your mind rarely leaves your memories of Jay, trying to isolate and disassociate yourself from the prodding metal and angry fists connecting with the several different parts of your body. A small part of you hangs on to hope that Jay and the rest of Intelligence are coming for you, but the bigger part tells you that they either won't make it in time, or that they think you're already dead.
The footsteps in the hallway drag you out of your thoughts and you raise bloodshot eyes to glare at the grunt in front of you. He hastily pulls you up by one arm and drags you into another room, different from the one you had been beaten in. There's a hook hanging from the ceiling, but there's also a chair and some blades arranged neatly by the chair. The thing that jumps at you is the camera standing in the corner of the room, hooked to a computer, and aimed at the hook and chair. The grunt stands with you by the door as the boss walks into the room, walking with his usual swagger towards the camera.
"Since I don't know who my little toy is working for, here's what is going on: to whom it may concern, this bitch is at my mercy, and either her employer comes forward, or I'm going to kill her." He says darkly as the grunt drags you into further inside, near the hook.
You put on your best brave face as he hangs you in the hook by the bindings on your wrists. Your shoulders scream at you but you refuse to show pain. The boss sits on the chair next to you and the grunt leaves, making it just the two of you in the room. He grabs a small, yet sharp blade from the assortment and turns to you, smirking darkly.
"So, I'll ask you again. Who are you working for?"
"Your mom." You spit at him, biting your tongue to not cry out when the blade cuts across the skin in your stomach.
-
The mug in Jay's hand hits the floor the second he sees the screen of his computer taken over by a video of a dark, grimy room, with you hanging from a hook and a slimy-looking guy in a suit passing around you with a large blade in hand.
He knew to fear something bad when they stopped getting the daily debriefs from you, but part of him had been influenced by you into thinking it was the best-case scenario: maybe you had gone deep to the point of not being able to contact them, but were about to resurface with enough evidence to nail every single interferent in the trafficking ring. He feels his heart sink to his stomach and his legs threaten to give out as his gaze fixates on the screen. Your face is bloody and bruised, along with the rest of your body, but your expression is one of stubbornness; whatever the guy is asking of you, you're not complying.
"This would all be over much quicker if you told me who you're working for." The guy snarks, and your expression remains unchanging.
"We both know you're going to kill me either way, just get it over with. Besides, I already told you I'm working for your mom." His fist connects with your ribs and you give out a pained chuckle. Jay's fists close up as anger begins to boil and cloud his head. "Or maybe for Brutus over there. Maybe you're his Ceasar, and he's waiting for the right chance to stab you in the back thirty times. Now seems like a good time, Brutus."
Voight bolts out of his office, vest on one hand, and a post-it note on the other.
"A contact of mine got me an address. Let's role." He barks out sternly. Jay bolts out behind him and the whole team gets in the armory, putting on their vests and grabbing their choice of weapon before getting into the cars and driving towards the address Voight's contact had given him.
Jay checks his three guns yet again: one Glock 19 in his hip holster, one Glock 17 in his thigh holster, and an AK-47 in his hand. He knows every moment from breach is going to count, and the longer they take to get to you, the worse the outcome can be.
The car comes to a stop and he turns off the security in the AK, rolling his shoulders as he steps out of the car and stealths towards one of the entrances. He peeks through a window, seeing two grunts. He gestures what he saw towards the rest of the team and prepares for breach, kicking in the door when Voight says so.
He feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins and doesn't stop until he's passed the guarded area. The hallways are silent and he strains his ears, trying to pick up something, anything that will guide him to you.
In the room, you're still dangling from the ceiling when the loud noises snap the guy from yet another monologue about how it would be easier for you to just give up and blah blah blah. Honestly, you had started to tune out the moment he opened his mouth, already knowing some variation of what was about to leave his lips.
"Go check out whatever that was!" He barks at the grunt, making you focus on the door as the other man exits through it. Before you realize what's happening, a shot rings out and the grunt falls back into the room, making the boss jump in fright. You see Jay slowly stepping over the body, AK steadily trained on the suited guy standing by your legs.
"If you move another inch, I'm blowing your brains out." Jay growls out as the other man tries to reach for the gun on the chair. "My finger is feeling very, very trigger-happy, and I just need you to give me a reason to give it what it wants."
You feel tears prickling at your eyes, both of joy and of pent up frustration and fear, flinching when you see the man moving towards his gun and Jay delivering a clean shot to his chest, dropping him to the floor instantly.
The AK hits the floor with a clatter before Jay rushes to you, unhooking you and lowering you to the floor before wrapping you in a bear hug. You feel yourself starting to sob as you hide your face on his neck, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped by Jay and his scent surrounding you.
"I would die happy if I died like this." You mutter into his neck, feeling him chuckle as he pulls away.
"You're not dying anytime soon, I'll waltz in and save you every time." Jay says, retrieving his AK and slinging it over his chest before he picks you up. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
"Sounds good to me."
#One Chicago#one chicago imagines#one chicago fanfictions#one chicago imagine#one chicago fanfiction#one chicago fanfic#one Chicago fic#one chicago fics#one chicago fanfics#Chicago PD#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd fic#chicago pd imagines#chicago pd fanfictions#chicago pd fanfic#chicago pd fanfics#chicago pd fics#jay halstead x reader#adam ruzek#jay halstead#hank voight#officer!reader#reader#reader insert#Female reader#cop!reader
132 notes
·
View notes
Note
94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift
Thank you so much! I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.
94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before
The things he does to pay for culinary school.
It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here.
You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles.
It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room.
The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder.
“How can I help-”
“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.
“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray.
“So?”
“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”
“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”
“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”
“Too bad you left me-”
“You broke up with me”
“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”
“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.
“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”
“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.
“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source.
The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.
Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that.
“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”
“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.
“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”
“So, where at Penguin do you work?”
“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”
The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.
“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy.
“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”
“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”
“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.
The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”
“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”
A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”
“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.
“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”
“Oh my lord.”
“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”
“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass.
“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.”
“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.
“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”
“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”
This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.
They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .
“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”
Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”
“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”
He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak
“Was that too far?”
“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”
“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval.
Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”
Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”
“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.
“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”
“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.
“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn.
He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.
“What are those things in your cufflinks?”
“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”
“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”
Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie.
He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room.
“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”
“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”
“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”
After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known.
They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.
If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy.
“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”
Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?
The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light.
Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”
“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.
“Yes.”
He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”
“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry.
Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”
“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”
A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”
“Fuck” Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission.
Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu.
“Fold every and set it on the chair.”
He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him.
“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”
Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?” He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare.
“N-not really.”
Stern raises an eyebrow.
“Not really, sir.”
“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”
“Are you sure we should do it here?”
“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm.
“Okay sir, I trust you.”
A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.
“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?”
“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”
Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”
“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern.
The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down.
“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”
“It’s all yours, sir.”
Fuck, where did that come from?
Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”
He whines, nodding.
Stern’s hand stops.
“Yessir”
It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.
“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”
“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”
“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”
“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”
“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-”
He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers.
Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you.
“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”
Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”
“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.”
“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”
“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”
“Thanks, I picked it myself.”
Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear.
“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”
“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”
“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.
“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.
“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”
“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”
“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks
“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent, and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”
“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”
“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”
“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”
“You really want to?”
“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss.
“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”
“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”
33 notes
·
View notes