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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise.

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping.

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them.

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis.

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates.

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger.

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word.

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself.

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam.

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again.

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react.

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment.

At 2am in the morning.

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh.

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least.

It should, but it doesn’t.

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude.

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile.

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat.

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly.

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile.

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds.

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go.

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try.

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine.

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love.

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess.

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you.

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space.

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent.

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door.

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord.

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you.

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere bokuto kotaro x reader #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #yandere bokuto koutarou #yandere akaashi keiji #tw dub con #tw implied noncon #soulmate au

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bratkook · 4 years ago

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cozy thief. (m) jjk

pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)

The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.

It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks.

Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature.

“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice.

The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”

“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.”

You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care.

“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it.

“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”

“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over.

Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”

You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor.

“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up.

Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”

Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote.

You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick.

“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table.

“Seriously?”

Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it.

He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating.

Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted.

“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness.

“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”

Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark.

“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”

After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent.

“We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”

He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”

Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room.

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.

Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself.

It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns.

“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”

“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin.

He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”

The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”

“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.

“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”

“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”

With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret.

A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him.

When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well.

Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight.

“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him.

“You wouldn’t…”

His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away.

“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”

“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you.

Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back.

You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often.

You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over.

With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.”

That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”

“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out.

He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond.

“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”

The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”

Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face.

He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed.

Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside.

A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up.

The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did.

Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him.

As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”

You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath.

“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”

He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his.

Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”

“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind.

He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly.

“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”

Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead.

Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now.

“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you.

“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear.

Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name.

Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer.

“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face.

A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation.

“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you.

Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back.

“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive.

You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together.

“Really?”

“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck.

“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”

The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name.

Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow.

“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”

You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”

He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes.

When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more.

“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal.

Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels.

“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge.

When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs.

“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”

He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy.

“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down.

Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss.

“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more.

Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through.

You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child.

“Why not?”

“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”

He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”

Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead.

“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face.

“It’s like two in the morning.”

He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened.

After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face.

“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room.

“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #new

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jelliclebellsthatjelliclesring · 3 months ago

Text

Free Transphobe block list in notes, holy shit

Christian fascists have no place in government.

Human rights are trans rights. You don't take away a human right using a personal phobia.

Vote Blue. 💙💙💙

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dykejake · 3 years ago

Text

innate magic | chapter three

pairing: josh kiszka x f!reader

words: 3.5k

warnings: 18+ content! penetrative sex. if I find out minors are reading this you will be blocked <3

summary: you meet a man in a bar, who you’re pretty sure you recognize from the local trader joe’s. he says he doesn’t work there, but that doesn’t mean you two don’t hit it off.

a/n: y/n in this fic is written with the intent of being plus size. if that doesn’t jive with you, you are 100% welcome to imagine her as either an OC or simply scroll past. much love!

thank you @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw for pre-reading for me, I love you!

part one | part two

He had barely been out the door for 7 minutes before you had a voice note from an unknown number, then a text after.

[unknown]: this is josh, by the way :)

[unknown]: I am trusting that you won’t post my phone number on the internet

You typed out your response quickly, then added him to your contacts, then hit play on the voice note. Your volume was all the way up, and you regretted it instantly, as the sound of him singing What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? at the very top of his lungs came from your phone’s speaker.

“When the bells all ring and the horns all blow

And the couples we know are fondly kissing

Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

Maybe it's much too early in the game

Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same

What are you doing New Year's, New Year's eve?

Actually though, do you have new year’s eve plans? If not, I was wondering if maaaaaybe you wanted to join me, my brothers, and Danny? It’ll be at Danny’s, nothing too exciting, just a chill hang out. Totally no obligation, you’re free to say no, but I just wanted to invite you, I think we really hit it off. Let me know!”

You weren’t normally a voice note kinda gal, but you got the idea that Josh much preferred to communicate through voice note than text, so you pressed the record button and started to speak.

“I did sorta have New Year’s eve plans, with my sister and her weird boyfriend, but you are literally my hero giving me an excuse to ditch. I’d be absolutely thrilled to join you and everyone else you listed, but PLEASE know I’m god awful with names and absolutely will not remember them by the time I get there. You let me know where I’m going, and I will be there. Also, let me know what everyone is wearing? I hate being overdressed but also hate being underdressed. Can I bring something? Is this too many questions? Let me know.”

As soon as you were done sending the voice note, you dialled your roommate’s number and waited while it rang.

“Hi, bestie! HOW WAS YOUR NIGHT?”

You giggled at her enthusiasm.

“Wellllllll… if I say the name Josh Kiszka, does that mean anything to you?”

“Greta Van Fleet, right? What about him?”

“Uhhhhh.”

“OH! OH! OH MY GOD, Y/N! OH MY GOD! HOLY SHIT!”

You laughed as she screamed at you through the phone, holding it back from your ear so that you didn’t go deaf.

“WELL TELL ME, HOW WAS IT?”

“Really, really, good bestie. Like, really good. And he gave me his number? AND invited me to New Year’s? Anyways, enough about me. What happened with your night?”

“I do not want to talk about my night, I want to talk about yours. You’re going to New Year’s, yes?”

“Yes, I already agreed to it. And no, I’m not inviting you - I don’t want to push my luck.”

“Oh god no, you have your new year’s eve with a famous fucking band. I’m sure I’ll get to meet him when you two live happily ever after and get married.”

“Oh, PLEASE. Anyways, I’m going to hang up now, and see if he has responded.”

“Okay! I LOVE YOU, AND YOU DESERVE THIS HAPPINESS!”

“Calm down, we slept together once!”

“STILL.”

You giggled and then hung up, checking notifications and feeling a little crestfallen when you noticed there was no voice note from him.

You made your way back upstairs and collected your clothing, changing out of his shirt into the jumpsuit, hoping he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his boxers forever. You found your clutch on the stairs, tossed aside in the activities of last night. Everything about his home was comforting - and you sat down on the stairs and just thought about it for a moment.

The feeling was overwhelming, actually. You had a chance with a man who made your heart feel like you were going to explode into rainbows. He’d met you for one night, fucked you into absolute oblivion, and then invited you to spend NYE with him. How did you avoid fucking this up?

As you felt anxiety washing over you, feelings of worry and terror, your phone vibrated with a new voice note. You took a few deep breaths and let yourself calm down before hitting play, instantly made happier by his pleasant voice.

“I was going to read you out the address, then realized that was completely stupid, so I’m going to text that to you day of so you don’t lose it. For what to wear - whatever the hell you want. Danny will probably dress up, Sam will too, and Jake will look like a hobo but make it fashion. I tend to wear the same thing, so just a crewneck and khakis. You don’t have to bring anything but you are welcome to, if there’s any snacks you love and just can’t pass up please feel free to bring them, but we also provide PLENTY of food so you don’t have to. Not too many questions! And so excited to spend NYE with you. See you there.”

After listening to his voice note, you gathered up your stuff and left his home, being extra extra sure to leave the front door locked and headed home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The days between your night at Josh’s and NYE passed much quicker than you ever could’ve imagined, and you found yourself rushing to get ready to head over to Danny’s. Josh had texted you the address, told you to be there around 7, and made sure you knew it was Danny’s house and not his.

You had decided to dress up - but only a little, so that you weren’t overdressed if you stood beside Jake. There was another jumpsuit in your closet, purple velvet with a rainbow across the stomach, that you hadn’t gotten to wear out yet and had strong NYE vibes, so you put that on and did the tiniest bit of makeup. You gathered your purse, and headed out the door, so that you could be there promptly for 5 to 7.

When you knocked on the door, a tall man with long curly dark hair opened it and gave you a confused look.

“Hi?”

You made a hopefully safe guess that this was Danny - he didn’t look like a brother of Josh’s - so you hoped for the best.

“Hi, Danny! I’m y/n, Josh invited me.”

“Oh!” He opened the door all the way and beckoned you in. “Come on in. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you and we were trying to keep tonight’s get together small. Josh isn’t here yet. It is kinda funny that you’re here 5 minutes early, he’s always late.”

“Oh!” You laughed at Danny’s observation, but could feel yourself getting anxious at the idea of being in a group of people (they were IN A BAND) without a person you knew. Danny looked back at you as he led you down a hall. “It’s really nice to meet you, y/n!”

You smiled at him, hoping he could not tell how anxious you suddenly had gotten. He smiled back, warmly, and you calmed a little. No wonder their band was so popular - if the other two had the same ability to radiate warmth as both Josh and Danny, they must be incredibly kind people.

You turned a corner to what was clearly a lounge area, Danny holding out an arm to present you to the only other person who was already there.

“Sam, meet y/n!”

You were pulled into a warm embrace by Sam. He pecked you on the cheek, making you blush, then pulled back from the hug to smile at you.

“It’s nice to meet you!”

“You too, Sam!”

Beyond that - you were feeling incredibly awkward, and weren’t sure what to do.

“Uhh… where can I put my bag down?”

Danny pointed at a bar stool and smiled, and you shrugged your bag down your shoulder and let it drop onto the stool he had indicated. You moved your arms back and forth, not sure how to break the tension of meeting new people, and Sam seemed to notice.

“I know the other two are still coming, but they’re ALWAYS late, so shall we pull some of the food out?”

“I’ll do cocktails,” Danny announced, looking pointedly at Sam. “Do you have a go to, y/n?”

“Oh, I - uhhh. Really does depend what you have. I really like bellinis.”

“Oh, crud. I don’t have peach juice in, but I’ll make sure to get some if you’re coming by more often. Anything else?”

“Vodka ginger ale?”

“THAT I can make happen for you. Coming right up!”

Danny dramatically put some ice cubes in a cup, poured a shot of vodka in, and filled the glass the rest of the way with ginger ale and handed it to you.

“So, uhh… how did you and Josh meet?”

You lit up at Sam’s question (and clear intent to start a conversation with you).

“Did he not tell you?”

“No! He just told us he’d met a really nice person at a bar and that you were coming to New Year’s.”

“Oh, god. So, I went to the bar with my roommate, right? A guy bought us some drinks but was only interested in her, so I went by myself to the bar. I noticed Josh’s hair out of the corner of my eye, and then stared at him for a bit because it looked SO familiar to me. I thought he was this one guy who worked at Trader Joe’s - I really did!”

Sam pointed at you and interrupted your story. “I TOLD him that that bagger at Trader Joe’s looked like him! I TOLD HIM.”

“Right? So anyways, I felt the need to explain why I was staring at him, because I didn’t wanna be creepy, and explained the Trader Joe’s thing. In hindsight, he’s probably so used to people staring at him, but obviously I didn’t fucking know that! So, yeah, we got talking and everything kinda happened from there.”

Danny and Sam were both laughing at your story, Sam shaking his head.

“Of course that’s how he meets someone. Very, very Josh of him.”

“When did you clock who he actually was, then?” Danny inquired, taking a generous sip of the drink he had just finished making himself as he made eye contact with you.

You blushed and looked down at the floor. “Uhhh. Morning after.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at you. “You mean he didn’t tell you before?”

“Well - sort of. He told me he was in a band, and offered to show me your music, but I had kinda assumed he meant a wedding cover band and honestly? Had other things on my mind.”

Sam threw back his head, then, a genuine and deep belly laugh escaping him. “Okay, fair enough. You knew what you wanted, I love to see it.”

“What’s funny to me is that you were happy to just sleep with a guy who made a living in a wedding cover band, y/n.”

Danny’s retort made you shrug. “He’s got hot energy, Danny.”

Suddenly, you heard a door open and a familiar voice shout.

“Life of the party is here! And Jake, I guess.”

You heard rustling bags and then saw the two of them turn the corner. Josh’s face grew into a massive smile when he saw you, his volume lowering and his voice warm.

“Y/n! You made it.”

He dropped everything he was holding and made his way over to you, pulling you into a side hug and kissing you on the cheek.

“So THIS is the famous y/n! It’s so nice to meet you.”

Jake held a hand out to you and you shook it firmly.

“Likewise, Jake.”

“Y/n just told us how you two met, Josh. No wonder you didn’t want to tell us, it’s proof that the Trader Joe’s thing is true.”

Sam’s comment made you smile, but Josh frown.

“I don’t think he looks like me! The hair is close, but everything else is totally different. TOTALLY.”

“He looks more like you than I do, Josh.”

“That is simply NOT true! Danny, tell them.”

Danny held his hands in the air. “I am not getting involved in this.”

“It’s not a BAD thing, Josh. Besides, clearly it got you a cute girl, so why are you complaining?”

Josh turned his head to smile at you, brightly. “Yeah, you’re right. I should probably let it go…”

You stood awkwardly again, looking around you and completely unsure what to do.

It wasn’t very long until the awkwardness had completely dissipated. Sam had invited you to play mariokart with him (and you had beaten him twice), Jake had won two rounds of UNO against you and Danny, and then you and Josh were dancing side by side. They’d let you connect your phone to the speaker, despite your protests of your embarrassing music taste, and now you and Josh were dancing to Electric Feel.

You had kinda forgotten that you two weren’t alone, him behind you with his hand on your waist, and he nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed there.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” You whispered to him, hoping nobody else would hear.

He hummed against your neck, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the hallway. You were trying very hard not to giggle, feeling like a teenager, but not wanting his bandmates to hear. He pulled you into the washroom and locked the door. You pulled him to you, kissing him aggressively, trying not to make any noise.

He turned you around, making you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re all worked up, baby.”

You tried not to moan, but he bit down on your neck, making you gasp.

“You can make noise, honey.”

“What if they hear me?” You whispered.

“They don’t care, I promise.”

He reached up and slid the sleeves of your jumpsuit down your shoulders, sensually kissing down your back as he did so.

“I need to stop wearing these.”

“I don’t care, I’m used to taking them off.” He hummed against you again, making you shiver. “No tape this time?”

“I didn’t think you’d mind what they look like.”

“I don’t.”

He reached around you and dipped his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, making you gasp again, reaching you arm behind you to grip his neck. You moaned his name as he brushed against your clit, sliding a finger between your folds to gather your slick.

“All for me, baby?”

“Aaaaaalllllll for you.”

He let go of you for a moment, reaching to pull a drawer open and pulled a condom out of it.

“Sorry. I know where Danny keeps them.”

He passed it to you, and you ripped the packet open while he pushed his trousers down.

You turned slightly to roll the condom onto him, then pushed your underwear down, waiting for him. You felt slightly like a horny teenager with your jumpsuit and pants gathered around your ankles, but you also didn’t care, you just wanted Josh.

“Are you ready?”

“Mmmmm.”

He pushed into you from behind, then, making you moan out loud. He bit into your shoulder, quickly pushing his tongue against your skin to soothe it. You couldn’t get words out, so you tapped his neck, letting him know that he could move. You, however, did not expect the soft, sunshine man to reach up to your neck, gripping your chin to make you look directly in the mirror.

“I want you to see. I want you to see how fucking gorgeous you are while I fuck you.”

You moaned, watching your face in the mirror as you did, your face reddening.

He began to thrust into you, roughly. You moved both hands to grip the counter in front of you, knuckles turning white. You bit down on your own tongue - knowing he didn’t care if they heard you, but still not wanting to be too loud.

He seemed to sense that you were holding back, so the hand that had been digging into your hip travelled across your skin to rub your clit - lazily, first, then faster. Your breathing quickened, the pleasure overwhelming. You gripped the counter harder, closing your eyes.

His grip on your chin tightened, not painful, but assertive.

“Eyes open, baby. You know I want you to watch.”

You obeyed, opening your eyes. He continued to move in you, continued to rub your clit, and you could hear yourself moaning loud enough that the others could absolutely hear. His name left your lips like a prayer, over and over, and you could hear his breathing get erratic as his pattern slowed. At the same time, you maintained your grip on the counter as the knot in your stomach tightened and you could feel yourself reaching your peak.

“I’m so close, baby.”

You met his eyes in the mirror, barely able to speak.

“Me too, Josh, fuck.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby. Wanna see you watch yourself in the mirror as you come all over my dick, so so pretty for me.”

His words got you there, and your walls clenched around him as you came. He held you up as your knees weakened, not wanting you to fall. And you kept your eyes open the whole time - watching, just as he had instructed.

As you rode out your high, he reached his, spilling into the condom and breathing heavily. He stayed inside you for a moment, breathing returning to normal. He kissed softly across your back, letting go of your chin and lovingly stroking your arm.

“You did so good, baby.”

You giggled. “Thank you, Josh.”

He pulled out of you, taking the condom off and chucking it in the garbage before pulling his trousers back up. He helped you pull the jumpsuit back on with a tenderness that directly opposed his previous actions with you, kissing gently in the valley between your breasts and then kissing your lips softly.

“So, do we try pretend that we weren’t just doing that, or…?”

“They won’t say anything, I promise. Everyone fucks, they know that.”

“Okay.” You kissed him again, as delicately as you could, then attempted to smooth your hair down before washing your hands. He followed suit, then opened the bathroom door with a little flourish. You giggled, then exited.

You braced yourself for jokes, wolf whistles, anything, despite what Josh had said - but were pleasantly surprised. Danny was holding a glass out to you, and nobody said a thing.

“Made you another vodka ginger ale.”

“Thanks, Danny!” Your smile was bright, thankful that they had clearly heard you but also clearly didn’t care even a bit.

“Only 15 minutes to the new year!” Sam said. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jake smacked his arm.

“I know what you want to say, and don’t do it.”

“I don’t know whatever you could mean.”

Jake gave him a pointed look, clearly a warning, then held out a tray to you.

“Cookie? I made them, and I promise they’re good.”

You thanked him and took one off the tray, gently nibbling on it. He was 100% correct, they WERE good cookies. You finished your mouth, holding your hand over it as you did, then spoke.

“They are genuinely good, Jake.”

He smiled, warmly. “Thank you VERY much. You may stay around.”

You smiled back, then Josh wrapped his arm around your waist.

“I’d like her to, too.”

“And me, actually.” Danny chimed in.

“Me too!” Sam added, a smirk on his face. He was very clearly biting his tongue - but also not at your expense, like you were sometimes used to with men - but playfully and gently. “You can COME over any time.”

Jake put the cookies down on the kitchen counter, then turned to hit Sam.

“I TOLD you NO!”

Sam laughed and rubbed his arm where Jake had hit him. “Worth it.”

You laughed out loud, genuinely not minding the joke - if that was the worst these boys were going to say about you, it was miles better than some of the shit you were used to. You felt safe, comfortable, and wanted in this group of people.

You five continued to chat and joke around until it was time for the countdown, then stood with your arms all around each other to shout out the countdown.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Josh pulled you into a kiss, loving and warm, as the others shouted “Happy New Year!” With massive smiles on their faces.

This was your first New Year’s kiss, and you were happier than you could ever have the words for.

taglist: @secretgvfstan, @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw, @screechesincoherently, @tlexx, @theweightofstardust, @godblessmarywanna, @weightofdreams-gvf, @prettyxvenomx, @fictional-duchess, @ascendingtostardust, @agirlwithmanytastes, @earthlysorrows

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka x reader

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blueroses789 · 3 years ago

Text

I wish I could be stronger

Warnings:

Mental health issues

Smut

Angst

Domestic violence

next chapter: Stronger

Chapter 11/?

Mina’s move, Eren’s realization and Mikasa’s desires : Chapter 11

Note: So this chapter is Y/n free (sorry guys). But I want to get into the heads of Mina, Eren and Mikasa. This chapters a bit shorter than my other ones. I am trying to update more often because I got some inspiration for this story. Anyway, happy reading😘🤗!

Mina sat beside Eren on his bed. He had a troubled look on his face. Did Mina feel bad for putting these thoughts into his head? A bit. But her hatred for you outweighed any feelings of guilt she had. She was quick to speak to Eren after your breakfast.

“ I mean it’s a little suspicious, don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that the second she gets back into your life, you and Mikasa break up?” Eren looks down at his hands.

Was this true? But then again, there wasn’t really any evidence. And he still wondered who had given him that valentines day card if it wasn’t Y/n. He looked at Mina’s scowling face.

“Why are you so obsessed with Y/n?” The second he said her name, Mina’s eyes lit up with rage.

“Because I know her.” Eren raised an eyebrow.

“Know her?” Mina’s body seemed to be shaking with suppressed rage. Mina had never liked Y/n. That much Eren knew. But as to why, he didn’t know. She had been your friend a long time ago, and then suddenly she turned against you, as well as Historia.

“Look, there's no evidence. Just lay off, will you?” Eren was tired of this conversation. He hadn’t invited Mina over just for her to nag him. He was so tired these days and wasn’t in the mood to deal with conflict. Plus Mina had no evidence that Y/n was up to anything.

“Look Eren-” Eren shapely turned and glared at Mina. She realized she’d gone too far.

“Get out.” Eren hissed.

It didn’t end there. Half an hour later Eren was calling Armin as he paced around the room. Mina had left the second he told her to, scurrying out in a hurry. It took him a while to calm down. Afterwards he decided to call Armin to vent. He considere Y/n, but felt it was a bad idea. She didn’t need to get thrown into this. He then thought of Mikasa, but that was a bad idea. So next on the list was Armin.

“She just went off on how Y/n was this…manipulator or something. I mean what's her deal.” There was silence on the phone for a few moments.

“I’m not sure why she has an issue against Y/n…..has Mina done anything else other than gossip about Y/n?” Eren layed down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He thought about it.

“Well…she was the one how told me Y/n had a crush on me. And later Y/n supposedly sent a card-” Eren sat up.

“Holy shit.”

“Sorry?” Armin asked, not clearly seeing Eren. Eren said nothing. The realization seemed to stun him in silence.

“Armin, I’ll get back to you.

Mina was shaking with suppressed rage. Like hell Y/n was just going to waltz into his life. Fuck, that friendship had ended six years ago, so how could it just start up again? The thought of Y/n being happy, with anyone, made Mina so so angry.

It was a month into Kindergarten. Mina shyly sat in the corner waiting for someone to approach her. She wistfully watched the other kids having fun. She wished that one of them would come up to her.

“Hi!” A girl her age walked up to her. She was around the same height with a cute blue dress and the prettiest e/c eyes she had ever seen. It wasn’t the colour that had entranced her, but the kindness in them.

“Wanna play with us?” The girl gestured to a small yellow carpet where a girl with blonde hair was organizing blocks. Mina looked back to the girl and smiled. But she had one question.

“What's your name?”

“Y/n.”

Ever since that day Mina had followed the h/c haired girl. At some point Mina’s feelings became less platonic. She found herself blushing when Y/n so much as looked at her. When she described her feelings to her parents, she was told what a crush was. Being shy at the time, Mina didn’t say anything. Well, it seemed she wasn’t the only one. One day when Mina was coming back from the washroom, she noticed Historia and Ymir chatting in the hallway. Usually Mina would just walk on by, until she heard Y/n’s name. Against her better judgment, Mina listened. What she heard next would change the course of Y/n and Mina’s relationship.

“Y/n going with me to the Valentine’s day dance!” Historia squealed. Mina’s stomach dropped. She had wanted to ask Y/n, but it seemed Y/n didn’t like her.

Their relationship changed. Mina started to distance herself with Y/n. But this wasn’t the end. Now every time she was Y/n with Historia. That was when the rage set in. Rejected love hurts. And for Mina, it turned her into Y/n’s worst enemy. Even after the initial crush ended, she resented Y/n. Not that Historia escaped either. She made sure to give the blonde a hard time, even going as far as to date her sister Abel before cruelly dumping her. But it was what she did to Y/n that gave her the most satisfaction.

People had always said she was petty, and they were probably right. Because Mina Carolina never let a slight go unpunished. And it reared its head when she saw Y/n with Eren.

When Mina found out Y/n had a crush on Eren in the fifth grade, her insides clenched painfully. Like hell Y/n could get what she wanted. But Mina had no proof, so she couldn't really do anything. It was only in grade seven that Mina took her chance. Eren had never shown an interest in Y/n. But seeing how sad Y/n was made her feel happy. Now she knew how it felt. When Mikasa and Eren got together, Mina suddenly had an idea. Eren had always been rash, acting before thinking. All she had to do was convince Eren that his relationship with Mikasa would be in jeopardy if he was around Y/n. The last straw was the Valentine’s day card that Y/n “sent”. And that, Mina thought, could be the end of it.

Mikasa was curled on her bed with a cup of tea. Jean sat on the end, listening to her rambling. Rambling and Mikasa were two things that Jean didn’t know went together. She was usually composed and self assured. Now, her hands were slightly shaking. Gray eyes darted nervously around the room.

“I don’t know if she likes girls though. What if I ask and she avoids me?” Mikasa asked nervously.

“I mean, if you really like her you should.”

“But Eren might be hurt. She’s his friend too.” Jean felt annoyance surge inside him. So what if Eren was pissed. They weren’t together anymore, so who Mikasa went out with was none of his business.

“Well she was your friend first. Plus Eren only recently reconnected with Y/n. He’s got no claim over her.” Jean pointed out. Mikasa set her cup down.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready. But what if someone else gets her.” Laying down, Mikasa curled up on her bed. Jean got up and sat beside her.

“You know….. I have a solution. I can help move you into Y/n’s line of vision.”

“Huh?”

“I can be your wingman.” Jean grinned.

Tag list:

@jaegersdiary

@didiyogo

@jeagersruletheworld

@maya3km

@casinorose

@erenjeagerwifee

#eren yeager #eren x mikasa #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren x reader smut #eren yeager fluff #eren x reader angst #aot smut #smk smut #mikasa akerman #mikasa akerman x reader #mikasa x reader #ymir x historia #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #get ready for the angst and crack

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makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

#bnha 308 #midoriya izuku #muscular (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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bluefirewrites · 3 years ago

Note

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick.

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights-

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson...

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research).

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing.

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed.

It was that bad.

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario.

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then.

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list.

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is.

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything.

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.”

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,”

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?”

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-”

“Quick, he’s getting up!”

“Flynn, wait I’m not-”

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress.

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-”

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her.

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth.

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he?

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.”

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.”

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.”

“Nope, it definitely happened,”

“Feel free to slap me,”

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be.

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage.

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably.

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision.

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave.

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”.

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes.

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.”

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.”

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away.

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #luke x julie #julie x luke #this one turned into an actual fic wtf #lol #i got carried away #long post #blue answers asks #celebrity/fan au

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turbo-toast · 7 months ago

Text

Summary and Conclusions

Right, polls are over. This kind of exploded, I never expected this many responses and notes on this.

The results are fully what I expected - although maybe not with the second poll. Judging from the replies, I think we can reasonably conclude that a solid percentage of voters misread the questions, which might throw off the numbers a bit. Something something reading comprehension.

So - here goes:

1.: The overwhelming majority of respondents do not approve of their work being fed into AI without their consent

This is completely understandable. AI doesn't understand meaning, it only repeats statistically probable patterns found in its training data, and it also doesn't understand things like subplots, overarching themes, personal influences of authors, feelings conveyed through brushstrokes and so on and so forth.

Moreover, people who post AI generated content often only do so for clicks and/or money with minimal effort - the passion that feeds fandom and that drives artists of any ilk to create is lost there.

Some respondents also voiced the idea that as long as whoever feeds their work into AI doesn't post the generated results or only uses it privately, that'd be fine. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion, so here's mine:

Of course there are open source AI projects with LLMs you can run on your own machine without it sharing your data to some company, but: You can safely assume that anything you feed into a commercially available AI product or a "free to use" AI product that runs on someone else's computer or a server is now part of its training data. The users feeding the machine with data *are* the product. This means that if your work is fed into an AI product like that, be it by scraping it or directly feeding it in to generate content based on it, your work is now part of that AI product's dataset and it's pretty much impossible to get it out again. Fragments of it might now show up in unrelated prompt results, and the company who owns the product will now make money with your stuff.

All of this to say: If anyone feeds any of my stuff into an LLM, that person is now on my shit list and I will never forgive them for it.

Some conclusions from this:

If your website with user content has an AI feature, it should *always* be opt-in. Anything else is extremely scummy.

Holy shit don't feed anyone's stuff into AI against their will or without asking, what the fuck.

*Especially* don't feed people's stuff into AI and then send them the results as fanwork - if you want someone to insta-block you and despise you, congrats, that's how you do it.

We desperately need regulations on ethically sourcing training data for LLMs. Basic ethics classes for programmers should be mandatory - and I say that as a programmer.

To quote someone else: "Why should I care about something nobody cared to make?"

2.: The overwhelming majority of people would not mind if someone made creative works inspired by theirs without AI.

Without AI - that's the bit that a lot of people in the notes seem to have missed in the notes. I'd assume way more people misread this one than the first one.

Some people offered some interesting commentary and opinions in the notes on this one though:

Firstly, some people expressed hesitation because the hypothetical fan didn't ask first. I think that's understandable, especially if your characters are emotionally important to you or even self-inserts and the content the fan decided to make is something you feel uncomfortable with.

I can understand that perspective, but personally I think if we as fans make fanwork of published media and want to do so without the owners of the IPs, we'd be hypocrites if we didn't tolerate the same with our own works. Of course it can still be good fandom etiquette to ask first before using other people's OCs and I can also very much understand if something like that ruins interpersonal relationships, but I also think we as fans do not have a leg to stand on to say there should be no derivative or transformative work inspired by ours without asking first.

Secondly, people expressed they would be sad if others didn't share the works inspired by theirs. I very much understand that one! I feel the same way. Although, if that was the reason you voted "Yes" on the second poll... That wasn't the intention of the question posed.

Overall though, the vast majority of comments said they would be overjoyed if their work inspired others to make something too, which I just have to echo. If my work inspired someone else to create something themselves, that would make me very happy.

Many people also already pointed out the difference between an AI-generated derivative and a fanwork is that the first is an almost thoughtless result of entitled misunderstanding of what fandom is about, and the second is a declaration of love.

Why use technology to automate away human expression?

Don't feed the Torment Nexus. Declare your love more often.

Poll for writers and artists

Whether you write fanfic or original works or paint/draw, be it fan art or original work or whatever else - I have to know, because I have a feeling this is going to be very decisive:

Please reblog for sample size!

#poll analysis #fandom #generative ai

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gryphsdeadbones · 4 years ago

Text

Half-Life and its media are rated M and the following applies:

(cw for: nsfw discussion)

1. Don’t fucking send nsfw shit to minors. What is WRONG with you. If you are an adult you don’t bring that shit up with minors. Don’t fucking go into their inbox and whine about nsfw discourse. WHY are you personally interacting with kids in that way, it’s shady as fuck??? You can discuss that stuff with other adults, don’t involve minors- even if you feel the need to correct them it’s just. Really not a good idea.

If you really can’t avoid a discussion, keep your distance.

Minors, for your safety, only trust whoever you feel is an okay adult. Even then, don’t hesitate to cut off contact if an adult ever feels very very suspicious and unsafe. You can softblock/hardblock as needed on the internet and it’s understandable and gets the message across.

2. Don’t fucking send nsfw shit to adults who didn’t ask. Why the fuck are you sending nsfw shit to wayne and co. This is like nsfw etiquette 101, if you DO discuss serious nsfw in a sfw space, you always make sure the others are okay with it and its tagged as such/in the appropriate space.

The huge problem with the discourse in the first place is that some chucklefuck thought it was funny to send it to creators.

The crew do crack nsfw jokes but like. They know each other. The twitch chat’s aware of their brand of humor. But some stranger showing up with straight up nsfw jokes/content unprompted? That’s not okay, even if outwardly they seemed fine with it.

It’s pretty much unwanted harassment- like if you were joking around with your close circle of friends at a bar and a total fucking stranger shows up and tells you nsfw jokes. Jokes that they made porn of your oc, unprompted. What the fuck.

3. Don’t fucking harass nsfw artists either, holy fucking shit. If you’re not familiar with nsfw spaces, it is not your place to tell what artists can or cant draw. Any nsfw artist with basic common sense fucking knows to:

- NOT put it in the main tags of a media

- tag warnings when needed

- mark their own account as nsfw

- block and avoid problematic shit

If you think every single nsfw artist is into gross illegal shit you are out of your mind and extremely wrong. Regardless, if you’re not into nsfw content, then it’s not for you. Simple as that- you block/avoid as needed and they will do the same- both sides win!

I’ve witnessed nsfw artists getting death threats- the characters in their art being unrelated adults and consensual. Holy fuck just leave them the goddamn fuck alone. You’d think ‘oh but they’re adults, they can handle it’ hello these guys are real people. Their feelings are more important than dumb internet discourse. If you’re concerned for your safety, the block button is free of charge. Use it.

The real, actual, mutual enemy is the people who make extremely vile abuse fetishization shit- even then, just block and don’t engage AT ALL for your own safety. It’s that easy.

Literally every Half-Life character is an adult and not related to each other (aside from the obvious).

I hate to break it to you, but HLVR:AI has a good chunk of nsfw dialogue and is taking place in an M-rated game.

It’s legitimately concerning sometimes that there are a lot of minors who like HLVR:AI. All the characters are ADULTS and they say dumb adult shit sometimes.

It’s okay to enjoy it, I’m not saying ‘minors shouldn’t be watching this’. It’s very important to set boundaries. And it’s equally important not to go looking for content you don’t want to see.

It is your own responsibility to curate and filter your own feed. Ao3, Twitter and Tumblr have their own filtering system: actually use it to your advantage.

Also a note: people tend to miss dni lists and carrds, so using filters are much more helpful for you and others.

Don’t go crying into anyone’s inboxes and make them do the work for you- unless there’s, for some goddamn reason, explicit nsfw in the main tags. Even then, those are like a small number of people who are easy to block and ignore. Simple as that. Use your brain.

You can reblog this. Except for p*do/inc*st/n*ncon creators, I’d rather you don’t interact.

If you’re going to send anon asks about this, be fucking respectful and mature about it. Anon hate and harassment goes directly into the garbage and permanently blocks ip.

#shrike writes a thing #ask to tag #i dont wanna maintag this so uh. if it ends up in the search just block this post if you dont wanna see it. or filter it idc

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents.

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?"

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach.

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple."

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?"

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level."

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully.

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly.

Everything was going according to plan.

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all.

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised.

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious.

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised.

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted.

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look.

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled.

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you."

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…"

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No."

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue.

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck.

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock.

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit.

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled.

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment.

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit.

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second.

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-"

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner."

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine."

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow.

"Is someone a little sensitive there?"

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight.

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock.

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful.

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing.

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go.

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was.

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down.

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off.

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious.

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around.

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards.

Jack swallowed roughly, confused.

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you."

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth.

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this--

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair.

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that."

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!"

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning."

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing.

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again.

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

#jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey imagine #consensual noncon #whew where did this come from #enjoy!#working things out

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flufflepuffle296 · 4 years ago

Text

“Chloe xxx”

I really want Chloé to get another redemption arc, but not because she wants to be Queen Bee again or prove herself to anyone-but because she wants to prove to herself that she can be as awesome as she wants. Also sorry but I rambled here.

I don’t even want it to start because of something big like being rejected or glares from classmates, it could just be she’s chilling in her room and she notices her butler flinching when she calls his name, or she’s watching a show and she wants to be just as cool as the main character, or even just looking around the class and just thinking “why not?”

She then starts calling her butler’s name a little sweeter, takes Sabrina out for coffee at her favourite café this time, pushes Alya’s bag towards her when it falls off the bench. She anonymously donates money to varying charities and doesn’t tell anyone about it. She feels warm when she does it-she doesn’t know why but it almost feels kind of nice. She begins working a shift or two here and there at the hotel. She smiles at Mylene when she walks in (even if she considers that outfit a crime against fashion), and returns pens when she borrows them. Nino loses a USB and Chloé helps in the search party for it (though does it secretly at break and lunch).

Becoming nice to Marinette is harder though. She decides however, that if she wants to be an ok person, she has to give everyone a chance, so buys a yard or two of a nice fabric the girl’s been eyeing for weeks, and posts it with a note signed “-C xxx”. It kind of feels a little nice when Marinette walks in in a pale pink beaded dress that isn’t totally horrible Chloé supposes.

She later realises that saying sorry is another thing she can do to become a better person, and she always kind of wanted to but was too prideful to do so-but no more! She apologises to butler Jean, saying that she’s sorry for screaming at him, firing him, everything.

She then apologises to Sabrina, for treating her as a slave and asking if she wanted to go to that film she’s been rambling about, since they always go for her choice. She also takes all of her homework back that Sabrina was doing for her, and starts working really hard on it.

She goes to the bakery later that week, and orders a large slice of cake, reasoning that she can’t be nice to others if she’s not being nice to herself, therefore she needs this chocolate cake. She then asks Sabine if she can go up to talk to Marinette, who is rather skeptical of her and only allows her in the dining room. She apologises for bullying her all those years, and hands her an envelope signed “-C xxx”. Marinette opens it, to find it full of cash that’s tied in small bundles with labels on.

“Homework soaked-age 7” €3

“Sketchbook ruined-age 10”. €18

“Teacher’s present destroyed-age 14”. €16

Everything she’s physically destroyed or ruined is accounted for and compensated. She then apologises for all the verbal abuse and mean comments, before asking for a truce. Marinette accepts, and points out that since they have a truce, she is obliged to inform Chloé that she has buttercream on her face.

A week later she gets all her homework back: B+, B, A-, B-, A+.

Not her usual report of full marks, but she’ll take it.

She starts working every night at the hotel, from 6pm till 10pm. She refuses to look it though-she is Chloé Bourgeois after all. Her uniform is spotless, her makeup is now impeccable (blue eyeshadow with pale lips? What was she thinking?), and she never has a hair out of place. She begins living on coffee-these grades aren’t going to raise themselves after all -and constantly has an energy drink in her bottle (not that the class is allowed to know that).

Grades: B+, A-, A, B, A+

Getting better...

Once in class, Rose slammed her head on the table (delicately? She somehow slammed her head DELICATELY?), and weeped that she didn’t understand the material. Chloé scribbled an explanation on a sheet of paper, and after class slipped it in Rose’s bag.

The next day, an akuma strikes near the school. They can’t leave because some kids live far away, and Bustier isn’t taking initiative and the class rep is no where to be found. Chloé bites her lip, before standing on the desk and clapping her hands. Once she has the class’ attention, she gives out instructions.

“KIM, IVAN! Grab heavy objects and block the doors. JULEKA, NINO, NATHANAEL! You can lock the windows since you’re the tallest. EVERYONE ELSE! Clear books away and any other things that could cause bruising if knocked over, put bags away, and hide under the desks and benches!”

Everyone stares at her.

“NOW!”

Everyone scrambled to their duties, before hiding under the desks, holding their heads like Chloé instructed.

Grades: A, A-, A+, B+, A+

Nearly there...

She informs her father that she’ll be leaving for a week next month, and tells Bustier and Damocles. She books a plane ticket to New York with her money from working, as well as a hotel room. She packs her bags and leaves, giving her dad a kiss and a hug beforehand and promising that she’ll be safe. She boards her plane and then hauls her bags up to her room, before making a call.

“Who is this?”

“Your daughter, Chloé.”

“I DON’T-oh you. Why have you called me I’m in the middle of working-shouldn’t you be at pre-K?”

“I’m 15 and French ma-but anyway, is it possible if you could promote Marinette’s website-MDC-in return I’ll work for you for free.”

“Oh yes Marinette-the exceptional one. How long will you work?”

“I’m only here a week-I’ll become your assistant even! I know you hate Stephanie.”

“...Fine. I’ll drop her into conversation at an interview if you’re only here a week. Now do not call me unless it’s an emergency. You start tomorrow-8am, sharp, in a fashionable outfit-or you’re fired.”

Chloé smiles as the line goes dead. Her mother may be a dragon, but Chloé can respect that she helps those she cares about.

Even if it isn’t her...

The next day she arrives at the office at 7:45, in a white suit with gold jewellery. Audrey nods, before sending her out with rapid instructions for coffee. Chloé takes her order to the café she requested, and starts reading it out to the barister, only for him to pale and interrupt her halfway through.

“Oh God-you’re ordering for Audrey aren’t you? Oh Lord-HEY AARON! STYLE QUEEN ORDER NO. 37! QUICK!”

The other worker, Aaron, goes white, before flipping every machine on and opening every can he can find in preparation.

“You must be her new assistant-good luck with her, the last one would come in to order her coffee and then sit in the corner and cry so much we set up her own space-look!” The first one says, pointing out to a comfy area of bean bags and pillows.

Chloé cringed. “Nah, worse. I’m her daughter, if you can even call me that, that’s interning for her in exchange for a favour.”

The barister pitied her. “Yikes.”

Chloé takes the coffee being thrusted at her and nods at the two, before sprinting back to the office.

After that week of hell, she still refuses to wear anything other than heels and designer clothes, and her hotel room is immaculate. She packs the night before, and sets off back to Paris in the morning.

MDC takes off after the Style Queen reccommended it briefly in an interview, and Chloé starts helping Marinette manage and organise commission dates and social media, eventually becoming her PR person/caffeination.

She starts working not only her 6pm-10pm shifts, but also a few shifts from 4am-7am a few times a week. She does her homework at lunch and as soon as she gets back from school, even doing it during akuma attacks. She gets through a concealer a week for her bags, and sleeps all weekend.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+.

Perfect.

...Or not...

She realises that she can’t maintain this. She can’t survive on 3 hours sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine. She cuts back on her shifts, doing 4 a week at most, and only does homework for a maximum of 2 hours a day. She starts, meditation and yoga, trying to keep her mind peaceful. She still donates to charities, and goes out with Sabrina and shops.

Grades: A, A, A, A, A.

Still pretty good, and she’s happy this time!

She begins doing things more for herself. She’s always wanted to learn Spanish after all. She hires a tutor, and starts working extremely hard to become as fluent as possible by the end of her education.

She learns conversational Spanish in about 6 months of semi-intensive learning, and decides to do something else as well. She starts learning Mandarin with Marinette, and struggles slightly more than she did with Spanish, but she’s still progressing.

She realises that she has a knack for learning languages, and picks more up more easily after she starts learning Spanish, Mandarin and later Portuguese.

One day when she’s out she comes across a homeless man, and offers him some money and brings him a hot meal. She sees others around him in the same situation, and does the same for them.

She then volunteers at the local soup kitchen, feeding hundreds of people on weekends and washing up afterwards. She connects with the homeless and a few refugees, and starts learning Arabic from one of the regulars, in return slipping her a few Euros (basically she gives her €250 every week).

She takes a shift at the bakery, manning the counter and becoming fast friends with Marinette as they practise their Mandarin on one another.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+

AND SHE’S HAPPY!!!

She eventually starts applying for universities, listing her abilities and experiences.

• A+ Student

• Volunteer

• Interned for Audrey Bourgeois

• Works at Boulangerie Patisserie

• Works at Le Grand Paris

• Fluent in Spanish, English and Mandarin, knows conversational Arabic and Portuguese, learning Polish.

The more she writes and thinks about the past 4 years, the more she comes to the realisation of

“Holy shit, I’m awesome. I’m an ok person. I’m a good person in fact. I’ve done good things. I’ve made a good impact on society. I did it. I DID IT!!! And I’m going to keep doing it-after all, I’m awesome and people rely on me, plus it makes me feel good. I’m no longer a spoilt 14 year old. I can be good. I am good. I am a good person.”

#mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #chloe sugar #chloe redemption #chloe bourgeois #chloe deserves better #ml chloe #miraculous chloe #ml #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #bustiers class #style queen #audrey bourgeois

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pinkyhim · 4 years ago

Text

Saved pt.5

Cat!Jimin x Brat Bunny!Jungkook x Human!Reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6 part 7

Warnings- Swearing

Fluff

drama/angst

Y/N= Your name L/N= Your last name F/N= Your first name

Authors note- Part 5 is finally out! Sorry for the long wait guys i’ve been quite busy with summer school, I also apologize that each part is pretty short > - < Sorry for any grammar errors (Just ask if you want to be added to the tag list!)

Summary ~ Y/N comes home one day to find that her apartment has been robbed, scared of it ever happening again she decides to adopt hybrids Jimin and Jungkook

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These past few days have been an absolute mess. Taehyung has been looking over my shoulder and correcting every mistake. I don't want to seem unappreciative or anything, but it's been getting on my nerves. I can't say anything because he's my boss, I can't risk getting fired, especially since he gave me that free pass after missing four days in a month.

"Y/N, do you want to grab a drink or something?" My co-worker Seokjin asks as I step outside the building

"Eh, I'm not sure Jin, I don't want to leave Jungkook and Jimin alone for too long," I say as he sighs

"It's fine, Y/N," Seokjin says as he steps inside his car, "See you tomorrow!" He says, with a bright smile I wave goodbye to him as he drives out of the parking lot

Recently, Jimin has been teasing the hell out of me. Since that shameful incident that happened at the mall. I'm honestly not sure if I can survive any more of his constant teasing.

I sigh as I unlock the door to my apartment to see Jimin sitting on the couch watching some cheesy romance movie, I assumed that Jungkook was sitting in his room doing whatever.

Jimin's head shot up right away as he heard the door open.

"Y/N! You're home!" He says running up to hug me

I guess, in the end, it was all worth it, acknowledging that I now have two adorable hybrids living with me now.

"Mhm, Do you know what Jungkook is doing?" I ask, carding my hands through his fluffy ears as he purrs loudly, fluttering my whole body as his tail wraps around me.

"I think he's sleeping right now," He mumbles, stroking his head on my neck as he usually does. At first, I thought that it was pretty odd of him. When I asked Seokjin, he said that he was scenting me or something like that.

"Oh," Is all I say as he wraps his arms tighter around me.

I finally manage to squeeze myself out as I take my shoes off and take off my coat as I make my way to my room to change into something more comfortable.

I didn't notice the body that laid on my bed curled into the sheets with my fuzzy blankets draped around them.

I started to take off that annoying tight pencil skirt as I let out a sigh of relief as I put on some gray shorts.

I was in the middle of pulling my shirt over my head as I heard shuffling in the direction of my bed as I halted my movement. I couldn't see anything as my top was blocking my view.

Holy shit, somebody is sleeping on my bed. I panicked, not knowing who the hell was there.

I was going to make a run out of my room not considering the shirt that was currently blocking my whole view

"Shit!" I yelled out as I walked on my dreaded pencil skirt and slipped, hitting the wood floor with a loud bang.

I heard a pair of feet shuffling to my room.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Jimin asked swinging the door open

I felt his eyes burning holes into my body as my face blushed a crimson color.

"C-Can you please help me get this off" I mumbled barely over a whisper.

I wanted to jump into a hole and never come out as Jimin helped pull me up before taking my shirt off as I only had on a bra with a pair of shorts.

I felt tiny as I watched Jimin's eyes rake over my body as he licked his lips that were suddenly very dry

After what seemed like forever, I shoved Jimin out of the room as I let out a shaky breath before putting on my sailor moon t-shirt.

I heard soft snores as I turned my head so fast I swore my neck might of broke.

I grabbed whatever was closest to me, which was a very creepy stone lamb. I always wanted to get rid of but never could since it was a gift from Seokjin.

I slowly walked over to my bed on my tiptoes, careful not to make a sound to wake up whoever was currently on my bed.

I gently pulled the blanket off the soft sleeping body as I saw a messy-haired Jungkook, with his floppy brown and white ears that twitched every so often.

I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding as I set down the stone lamb onto my nightstand before sneaking out of the room, not wanting to wake him up from his peaceful slumber.

He looks quite sweet when he is sleeping, complete 180 from his usual demeanor.

I made my way to the kitchen as I saw Jimin just sitting there as his bright yellow eyes followed my every move.

I opened my phone and took a seat on the tiny island across from Jimin. I mindlessly scrolled through my phone as I felt Jimin's eyes trained on me like I was his prey.

"Sorry, you had to see that," I said as Jimin didn't respond.

I was about to speak, but Jimin straight up left the kitchen as I heard his door shut gently.

I sighed as I just decided to sleep it off.

I was about to plop onto my bed, but I remembered that Jungkook was sleeping there.

I groaned before grabbing my pillow with a blanket and making my way to the couch. Last time I woke up Jungkook, it was not pretty. It surprised me when I heard foul words come out of his mouth. I would rather not encounter that again for the rest of my life.

When I woke up, Jimin was his usual cheery self as I made breakfast.

"Can you get Jungkook?" I ask as Jimin nods before stalking off to the hallway

I placed both of their plates on the table as I heard a knock from the door.

Who is here this early? I wondered as I washed my hands before making my way to the door when I opened it, I saw a familiar flat annoying ugly face, but this time he was with a man in a suit.

"Calvin?" I asked my eyes going wide as I saw the disgusting smirk that was on his face.

"Miss L/N," The man next to Calvin said as my mouth formed a tiny frown.

"That's me," I said crossing my arms

"I was informed that one of your hybrids attacked Mr. Brown five days ago. Is this correct?" He asks as my eyes go wide

"Excuse me?" I ask confused

"Please answer the question Miss L/N," He says

"Jimin was not attacking him. He barely laid a finger on him," I replied.

"We have a witness who saw your hybrid attacking Mr. Brown," The man replies, handing me a clipboard.

"What is this?" I ask my eyes scanning over the paper

"Miss L/N, We expect you to return Jimin in a week or less if you don't we will have to take him by force." The man said

What did he just say?

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@ littlewolfieposts @ forevermoremagcon @ madygswich @ jeonkooksgirl @bubbletaetaesstuff @iloverubberduckiez-blog

#bts #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid au #bunny jungkook #cat jimin #bts army #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #park jimin #bts hybrid series

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

Say You’ll Stay- Chapter 2

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

Here is the next chapter! Yay!

Warnings: Swearing, attempted sexual assault

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @alwaysindecemberfeels

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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Dusk had fallen over the small town. A few stars peered down from the heavens already. Only a few clouds obstructed the moon and starlight. Thankfully the sounds of artillery fire had ceased. At least for now. There were no bird songs though, only the crickets that hid in the tall grass. Their symphony was better than gunfire though.

Carrying the heavy, water-laden wooden bucket, Anna carefully walked back up the dirt path from the river towards the building being used as a field hospital. The walk only took ten minutes but she was exhausted. Both from the unrelenting hours of work and lack of sleep. Not that this was unusual. Over the past year her body seemed to have adjusted to minimal sleep and excessive stress. It was her night off to actually sleep more than four hours, and her body practically screamed for her to hurry up and find her bed.

So focused on watching her footing along the muddy ground and trying to keep the water in the bucket, she failed to notice the soldier blocking the small path. It was only when his boots came into her view did she gasp and look up.

"Oh! You gave me such a fright." Her heart raced in her chest at the surprise. Soldiers did not normally come this way. The small creek was not worthy of note besides gathering water and washing things, if need be. It had been too cold for bathing or swimming, not that there was much time for either. She knew of a few that came down to try and find peace in the stillness of the smooth creek.

Yet there was something in the way the soldier stood looking at her, that raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"Apologies, Nurse Cooper. I saw you out here and it looked like you could use some help."

It took her a moment to recognize the soldier in the dimming light. It was a Private she had bandaged up from a gunshot wound, having only grazed his shoulder. A lucky shot for him. He had been trying to flirt with her as he sat bare chested before her, her hands cleaning his wound and wrapping a bandage around it. It was not until his free hand started tracing patterns down her back that she became wary of him. When she finished and stood up to leave, his hand slid down and cupped her ass momentarily. A sleazy wink was all the reaction he gave when she turned to look at him in surprise. She tried to avoid him after.

"Oh, I’m just fine. Thank you though." She tried to move around him, even stepping off the path into the tall, frost-covered grass.

His hands shot out, one to grab the handle of the bucket and the other to wrap around her small waist. "Come on, baby. Don't be like that. Let me help you."

"Let go of me, Private. I don’t need your help."

"You sure? I promise to take good care of you."

"Let. Go." She tried to step away but his grip on her only tightened.

He chuckled at her demand, trying to tug her closer. His thin lips, accentuated by the patchy beard on his face, curved up in a small smile like her resistance amused him. His ODs were even more filthy than her nurse’s uniform and she wondered when they last had been cleaned.

He was several inches taller than her, since she only reached about five feet and three inches...but she did not care. Her father had taught her to defend herself. Just as she reached for his hand, prepared to dislocate or break a finger clutching her waist, a voice called out.

"Anna?"

Looking up the path, she noticed Boyd standing there watching her with his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket and eyes narrowed at the soldier holding her. Beside him stood a young man, most likely someone from his crew.

"You alright, Anna?"

Before she could open her mouth, the Private still holding her spoke up.

"She's fine. Now fuck off."

Boyd shifted his eyes to stare at the Private, his jaw clenched. A long moment later his gaze locked back on hers. Hands in his pockets, he slowly started walking closer down the path, his companion trailing hesitantly but obediently. "Anna, we were waiting on you. Don sent me out to find you cause we promised to wait to eat till you came. If we don't hurry on, pretty sure Grady is gonna to start without us and Lord knows there won't be any food left then."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she played along, putting both hands back on the handle of the bucket, "I had to help sew up someone's hand."

Boyd smirked then pointedly looked at the Private with a dead glare. "Somewhere you supposed to be?"

The Private's hand tightened painfully on her waist, clutching her in an almost possessive way. She winced, wondering if it would bruise. The two men glared at one another, the tension in the air palpable. Anna could not help but hold her breath, hoping a fight was not about to break out. That would just be the icing on the cake for how her day had been going.

Finally, he pulled his arm back from around her and let go of the bucket's handle. All the while, his eyes met Boyd's head-on, ignoring her as if she was only a piece of scenery. "She ain't worth it." He spat out.

He started to move away but at the last minute, he knocked the wooden bucket so it sloshed the water, spilling at least half down the front of her thin coat and dress. Without looking back, he continued back up the path, ignoring both Boyd and his companion.

"Shit." She mumbled, staring down at her wet clothes. The worst part was she would have to drudge back to the river to fill the bucket back up again. The first hint of tears filling her eyes came, and she covered her face with one hand, willing the tears to vanish. There was no time for that. She was fine. She had to be. She was just so damn tired.

"Give'er here." Boyd gently took the bucket from her hand and handed it to his young brunet companion. A slight nod and the younger man hurried down the path, disappearing through the tall bushes. "You alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I had it handled." She snapped, the residual fear and anger getting the best of her. All she wanted to do was rest but now, she wondered if her mind would even let her.

His eyebrows rose, thick moustache twitching. "Really? My apologies for interferin’ then. Norman and I will just be on our way."

"Wait, no. I'm sorry. That was rude. I just…and then he...I…" Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands, taking a few, deep breaths. Her emotions felt like a tornado threatening to overtake her. Anger, frustration, exhaustion, hopelessness and fear swirled within; tears gathered in the corners of her eyes but she quickly wiped them away. She crossed her arms over her chest, the cold from the water soaking her coat beginning to slip under her skin.

Boyd faced her, one hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. Did he hurt you though?"

"No. He...um, he had just approached me."

He seemed to weigh her words before grunting an affirmative, his head swiveling back up to look down the path towards the river. "When did you last eat?"

"What?" She looked up at him in confusion, a shiver rattling her. If it was from the cold or adrenaline, she was unsure.

He smirked, looking back at her, with kind brown eyes. "When did you eat?"

"Um…" It was embarrassing how she had to rack her brain for that answer. Apparently she took too long because Boyd shook his head and interrupted her thoughts.

"That settles it. You're coming with us."

"Wait, what?"

The younger man appeared, carrying her bucket, a shy smile on his boyish face.

"Norman, this is Nurse Anna Cooper. Anna, this is Norman." Boyd quickly introduced, hands back in his jacket pockets. "She's gonna eat with us."

"Oh, ok. What about…?" Norman glanced down at the full bucket.

Anna answered, holding back tears once more that she did not have to trek back down to the creek. "I have to take it back... to the hospital."

"Right. Let's go." Boyd walked beside her; Norman followed, still carrying the bucket.

Her mind struggled to understand what all had just transpired in the last few minutes but if war had taught her anything, it was to roll with the punches and keep moving.

Anna pushed open the back door to the make-shift hospital, the immediate warmth bringing a small smile to her face. Nurse Falk stood in the back room, tending to the fireplace.

"What took ya so long, girl, I almost sent Evelyn to find ya…" Nurse Falk began when she heard the door open, but when she turned around to see Anna standing inside with the two soldiers escorting her, her mouth snapped shut. Immediately, her piercing gaze pinned Anna to her spot, making her shift uncomfortably.

"Ah, they… um, they helped me." Anna started, unsure what she wanted to say.

"Evenin', ma'am." Boyd took over, giving the middle-aged woman a respectful nod. "I met Anna earlier today and when I saw her gathering the water, I offered to help."

"That's mighty kind of ya, sir." Nurse Falk stated, though her tone only held a smidgen of actual appreciation. The head nurse was harsh and ran her hospital with a firm whip but she looked out for her girls, especially when it came to men sniffing around them.

"It's no problem. We'll get outta your hair. If s'alright, Anna is gonna come eat with me and my crew. Said she couldn't remember when she last ate."

Anna averted her eyes, picking at her nails as she could feel the anger in the head nurse's gaze.

"Mmm...that's kind again of ya to offer but…"

"I swear on the Lord's holy book, I won't let nothin' happen to her. We're just going to eat. I'll make sure she's back in an hour."

Nurse Falk pursed her lips, swiping her graying hair off her forehead. "Anna?"

The redhead glanced at her matron and silently nodded.

"Alright. One hour." Nurse Falk held up one finger to emphasize. Then her eyes seemed to take in Anna's mess. "Christ, girl. Why in the blue blazes are ya wet?"

"I spilled the bucket."

"Mmm, well take ya coat off. Ain't doing no good now. Hang it near the fire, then off with ya. One hour, ya hear me."

Anna followed her instructions, hanging her thin coat on a peg near the fireplace, having formed a small puddle where she had been standing. As she finished that, she could see the younger man- Norman- handing the bucket to the head nurse.

Next thing she knew, she was walking through the devastated town, Boyd on her left and Norman on her right. A chill swept through on the evening breeze, raising goosebumps on her exposed skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, her damp dress seeming to hold onto the cold air greedily. She wondered if the two would have waited for her to change clothes, but it was too late now. She had not realized how much water soaked into her dress until she took her coat off.

"Here." Norman shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over her shoulders.

"Oh no, it's …"

Boyd interrupted her. "I was 'bout to give you mine if he didn't. Can't have you catching a chill out here."

"But…"

"Just say thank you."

She shot a glare at Boyd who smirked, keeping his gaze forward. Rolling her eyes, she quietly thanked Norman, who smiled shyly. Honestly, the extra layer felt heavenly, it was just enough to keep the chill out and she hoped to help dry her dress out. Norman was only three or four inches taller than herself so his jacket was not too huge on her shorter frame. Arms in the sleeves, she wrapped her arms in front of her to keep the jacket somewhat closed. It smelled of sweat, gunpowder and gasoline. Nothing too unusual from the rest of the war. At least it did not smell like blood. She was thankful for that.

As they walked, Boyd talked about how they were a tank crew and briefly mentioned each of its members. His voice became a background noise amidst the sounds of renewed artillery fire, shouting orders, and vehicles moved around. A few times they had to stop to wait for a truck to pass or a squad of soldiers. Twice catcalls followed as they passed, not that she really paid attention to that anymore but after what just happened with the Private, it made her tense.

"Don't you pay any attention to them." Boyd commented quietly, moving slightly closer nonetheless.

Finally, they arrived at a brick building, a large chunk missing out of one of its corners. It looked like a giant had taken a swing at the building and clipped its corner causing a hole. A few soldiers relaxed on the main floor, smoking or sleeping. A couple of them turned to watch the three enter but no one said anything. Boyd quickly ushered her up the stairs to the second floor and an adjacent room from the creaky, wooden stairs.

"Bible, where the fuck you…"

A man's harsh voice abruptly ceased after Boyd pulled her through the door behind him.

A single lamp was alight in the corner, casting shadows over the abandoned bedroom and its three occupants, waiting for their companions' return. A small gasp escaped her but before she could turn around and run out the door, questioning the wisdom of her blindly following someone she met once, Boyd gripped her upper arm.

"This here is Nurse Anna Cooper. I invited her to eat with us, so you heathens show some respect."

Silence hung heavy in the room. She wondered if she should back out, if this was a mistake. Why did she come here? Scanning the room, she realized the silence lingered because everyone was staring at one of the occupants in particular. Almost as if waiting for his permission. When she looked his way, she noticed him staring at her, eyes slightly squinted. Something within her rose up and she met his gaze without wavering. She was exhausted, honestly the thought of food had made her realize how ravenous she was and she liked Boyd, his presence was comforting and peaceful. So far, he had not given her any creepy vibes. If this...man who clearly was in charge wanted her to leave, he was going to have to say it. She was just too damn tired to care for pleasantries. A shudder shot through her as her body attempted to absorb the warmth in the room, making her tremble slightly. She tugged Norman’s jacket tighter around herself.

The man looked just as weary as she felt. A scar on his cheek along with dirt and grime scattered across his handsome face made her wonder when he last enjoyed the luxury of bathing. His hair cut was odd, with it practically shaved on the sides and long on top. His eyes held an intelligence and determination she had rarely seen before. As his sky-blue eyes met hers, a slight shiver went down her spine. Not from fear, but attraction and a strange desire for his approval, surprising her through the haze of exhaustion. Which later she really should reprimand herself for. This was war, there was no time for attraction and romance. Wait, when did she start thinking about romance? A slight blush rose to her cheeks. She barely knew this man. Her friend back home would be laughing at her if she could read her mind right now. Christ, she must be more exhausted than she thought.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave a brief nod then looked over to only non-white man in the room. "We got extra?"

The stout man's eyes bounced back and forth between her and the other man- obviously their commander- before smiling. "Yeah, yeah. We got enough for la mamacita."

The commander met her gaze once more with a tight-lipped smile.

What had she gotten herself into? Who was this man?

*****

What in the fuck was Boyd thinking bringing a girl like her here?

Don watched as she sat between Boyd and Norman on the ground, head bowed and eyes closed as Bible led them in a quick prayer over their dinner.

She certainly was a pretty little thing. Auburn hair that was tied in a bun on the nape of her neck, a few strands hanging out around her face. Rich blue eyes like sapphires that seemed to take in everything at once when she entered the room. A button nose over soft lips, the bottom lip slightly fuller. What caught him was how tiny she was. Yes, she was certainly on the shorter end, but from what he could tell how Norman's jacket hung off her and her dress, she would normally be slender but now she looked far too skinny. He wondered if this was why Boyd brought her. It seemed meals were not a regular occurrence for her. Nor rest, if the dark circles under her eyes were any indicator.

Everyone quickly began to dig into the food they had managed to scavenge. Gordo and Norman had found some unspoiled apples, making sure everyone had at least one. They split the better parts of the C rations and two cans of beans they also found. Don knew he should inquire as to where Gordo and Norman found the food but with the pleased looks of his crew, he chose not to. Plausible deniability and all that.

"So, you're a nurse, huh?" Gordo broke the ice, munching on his third apple.

She jumped slightly as if surprised someone had spoken to her or had been lost in thought. "Yes."

"That how you met Boyd, huh? You at the hospital?"

"I cleaned up his hand."

"Uh huh...so how you end up here? That was hours ago that he went to get his hand fixed."

Don knew Gordo was searching for something, even if his question and tone seemed casual. Not that his own mind had not been repeatedly asking the same question. He had sent out Boyd and Norman to check on Fury one last time and had returned with this girl.

Fucking hell.

She tugged Norman's jacket tighter around herself almost subconsciously but before she could open her mouth, Boyd answered.

"Ran into her outside the hospital and asked her to join us. It's nice to be around pleasant company every once and awhile instead of you complainers."

That got Gordo jokingly riled up, even Grady threw out a comment.

Don just smiled, taking a bite out of his apple, sitting between Boyd and Gordo. This crew, he considered family. They were his brothers. He glanced over at Anna and noticed her suddenly tensed, tucking her legs beneath her. Norman and Gordo were arguing over what tasted the worst in their C rations. Boyd just laughed along. It was then he noticed what was making her so uncomfortable. Grady was leering at her, a dopey smirk on his face.

"Grady, knock it off."

Coon-Ass looked up at him, not in the least bit phased at being caught. "What?"

"I said, knock it off."

"Shit. Ain't hurting no one."

Don just glared at him until he huffed and muttered something under his breath, suddenly finding the can of beans extremely interesting in his lap.

Whatever food was placed in front of her, she quickly ate. Although if it was due to nerves or actually hunger, that was still up in the air. Don caught Boyd a few times sliding some of his own food her way. She would give him a look but he just ignored her, nudging her until she ate it. The whole time she kept herself wrapped up in Norman's jacket tighter than a ball of yarn.

Don had a few questions for his gunner once she left.

As the food disappeared amongst the group, he watched her eyes grow more and more heavy. A couple times, unsuccessfully, trying to hide a yawn.

"I should get going." She mumbled out, unsteadily getting to her feet. Slipping off the jacket, she gave it back to Norman with a quiet thanks.

Boyd jumped to his feet. "I'll walk you back."

"No, it's ok."

"Anna…"

"I'm fine." She snapped then winced. "I'm sorry, I just...if Doctor Erickson thinks I'm fraternizing…"

"It's alright."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." Her gaze skimmed over the group quickly. "Thank y’all for letting me join you. It was a pleasure to meet y’all."

Before she could walk out, Boyd stopped her, his hand on her arm, voice low but not enough for the others to not catch his words. "You go down to the river again; you find one of us. Or for anything, yeah?"

She nodded then ducked out, leaving silence in her wake.

"Care to explain what that was about?"

Boyd ran a hand over his mustache before speaking. "Nothing, Don."

"Didn't seem like nothing." Gordo stated, already laying on the floor with his eyes closed. "She's pretty. Real pretty. I think Bible was thinking with his…"

"Gordo, you say another word and I'm going to shut your mouth for you." Boyd threatened, glaring at his crew mate. Grady and Gordo just laughed.

Don watched on silently. A picture of what happened formed in his mind. It was obvious Boyd was protecting her from something. "Norman," he looked over at the kid who he considered a younger brother, "what happened?"

The kid glanced from Don to Boyd and back, clearly hesitant to share whatever it was Boyd was hiding.

"Go on, Norm. S'alright." Boyd slid down the wall to take a seat.

"Well, we are walking, see, Bible and I heard a commotion. There was this Private who had her…" His voice dropped off.

"It's alright, son." Don turned from Norman to Boyd. "And the eating?"

"She couldn't remember when she last ate."

"Fuck." Don whispered; he could already see the determined look in Boyd's eyes. He had found a stray he planned on taking care of while here. Don sometimes wished Boyd relaxed like the other soldiers- drinking, smoking and women. Boyd "Bible" Swan was a good man, too good for those around him. Instead, he would find something usually to nurture, a stray dog or cat, and while they were in whatever hell hole they were in, until the next orders came, he would take care of his stray. This time...it seemed to be this nurse.

"Get some sleep. We'll be getting our orders tomorrow." Don said, moving to lay on his back. He could hear the others moving around, getting settled on the hard, wooden floor. His hopes of finding beds for his crew came to naught but at least they had a roof over their heads and floor space to stretch out. Though he did have to commandeer the space from a couple of Privates who were all but almost asleep. A sharp remark and a couple kicks to get them on their feet and out the door did the trick though.

Closing his eyes, he hoped sleep would find him quickly and without dreams or nightmares. His mind though kept revisiting a pair of sapphire eyes that met his own in such silent strength, he had almost chuckled at the time.

#Fury movie #fury 2014 #fury fanfic #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #Don Collier #Don Wardaddy Collier #don collier x OFC #boyd bible swan #boyd swan #Trini Gordo Garcia #Grady Coon-Ass Travis #Norman Machine Ellison #mzwrites

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