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roping-riding-wrangling · 3 months ago

Text

Bennie and the Jets

“Y/n” he says with that tone. The same tone he used to tell you that your family dog Tammy had been hit by a car. The same tone he used when your mother died.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

He pulls you to sit with him on the plastic chairs.

“I got a call from the police. Benny, he…he was found dead this morning”

Your hand flies to your face. Your dad’s hand rubs comforting circles on your back as you try to catch your breath.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

Over and over you count to ten until you find your voice again, “What happened?”

Previous Part

summary: Y/n's day goes from bad to worse as she suffers caffeine withdrawals, finds out her boss is dead, and almost gets into a car accident.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Newby!reader, death, mentions of suicide, brief mention of dead dog, swearing, ANGST, reader ignoring her emotions™

Sleep has a firm grip on you in the early morning. After last night, you got home to find your dad already asleep. You hadn’t taken your uniform off before you crashed onto your bed. You dreamt of milkshakes and volleyballs and little girls with tattoos. The alarm wakes you violently, and violently you react. You smash the thing until it stops beeping, groaning when you hear it five minutes later. You shoot up and rip the chord from the wall, effectively silencing the machine. Already up, you figure that you might as well get ready for the day.

You go to make your pot of coffee, reaching for the jar where you keep the grinds. “Fuck” you softly whisper. In the chaos of yesterday, you forgot to get more coffee. You glance at your watch.

Fuck.

There's not enough time to run to the store to get more coffee before practice. You leave a note for your dad and grab the last can of coke from the fridge, hoping it gives you enough energy to make it through the day.

The ride to school is quiet. The sun hasn’t quite risen, casting the town of Hawkins in an eerie gray light. The leaves are just starting to fall, some of them already barren. The heat in your truck hasn’t worked since last year and you can see your breath as you drive. The cold this morning is extra bitter. Sleep lingers in your eyes as you make the winding drive, forgoing the cassette to listen to the radio. You park as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. Standing outside your car, you let the light wash over your closed eyes for a minute, taking in the stillness.

You’ve always preferred sunrises to sunsets. There’s something about the world coming out of darkness that calls to you. Everything is a little less hopeless in the daylight.

You feel someone’s eyes on you. Your gaze darts across the parking lot before landing on none other than Steve Harrington. He stares at you from a few cars down quizzically. You’re too tired to dignify his staring in any meaningful way, offering the smallest tilt of your lip in acknowledgement. You turn back to the sun, ignoring the way he continues to stare at you.

You let yourself enjoy the last few seconds of sunrise before you go inside.

––––

It turns out the coke was not enough to get you through the day. It’s fourth period when you feel your eyelids drooping. The pre-calc lesson is not nearly intriguing enough to warrant you staying awake. You’re roused from your almost-slumber by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Carol, a folded paper in her hand, gestures for you to pass the note to Hannah, who sits in front of you. The paper moves along, and for a minute you wonder if Carol even knows your name.

She’s part of the popular crowd and you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter what she thinks of you. Then the thought hits you: does she even think of you at all. Do any of the popular kids even think about anyone but themselves? Are they so wrapped up in their own bubble that they can even perceive their peers?

As it turns out, normal kids can be perceived by the holier-than-thou popular kids. Next to your locker, Carol congregates with Tommy, Steve, and Nancy, who has seemingly joined their crew through her connection to Steve. It's hard not to overhear them as they gossip about Jonathan Byers.

The parking lot incident had long since been forgotten as you listen to Steve and Tommy joke about Will.

“I bet he killed him”

Their crude speculation brings a scowl to your face. How dare they speak about Jonathan like that when he’s clearly trying to find his brother. Anger pools in your stomach and you pull out your books faster, eager to avoid listening to this bullshit. Suddenly Nancy’s gentle voice pipes up, “Should we say something?”

You’re suddenly grateful that you’re facing your locker, as you’re sure the shock from hearing her defend him is written all over your face. You peak over your shoulder to see her approach Jonathan. You can’t hear the short discussion, but Jonathan purses his lips and nods at her. She walks back and you and Jonathan make eye contact.

It’s heartbreaking how terrible he looks. He’s even more disheveled than normal, hair unbrushed, eyes puffy and sunken in. You give him a small nod and a look that you hope he reads as “I’m sorry and good luck”

He leaves.

–––

Fifth period is just as brutal as the last. You had just nodded off for the third time when the secretary opens the classroom door. All eyes turn to her as she calls for you to join her in the hallway.

The walk to the office is silent as you run through every scenario of why you would possibly be called up. The secretary opens the door for you to see your dad waiting for you.

“Y/n” he says with that tone. The same tone he used to tell you that your family dog Tammy had been hit by a car. The same tone he used when your mother died.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

He pulls you to sit with him on the plastic chairs.

“I got a call from the police. Benny, he…he was found dead this morning”

Your hand flies to your face. Your dad’s hand rubs comforting circles on your back as you try to catch your breath.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

Over and over you count to ten until you find your voice again, “what happened?”

“Buddy, I don’t think-”

“Dad, what happened”

“He shot himself”

“Oh”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, fo–

“Buddy, the police want to talk to you, ask you a couple questions about Benny. I’m gonna take you down to the station. When we’re done we can go home.”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

“Ok”

You walk to your locker to collect your things in a daze. It continues all the way to the station and your dad has to stop you from walking into a wall. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you probably would’ve laughed.

An officer whose name you immediately forget takes down your information and you lose count of how many sets of ten you’ve collected. Finally, Chief Hopper sits in front of you and introduces himself.

“Jim Hopper”

“Y/n Newby”

“y/n, you were the last person to see Benny. Did you notice anything odd about his behavior?”

“Um, no he seemed fine–normal. But, I wasn’t the last person.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a little kid that broke in last night, a runaway.”

“We heard about the kid, did you get a good look? Did he look like this?”

He produces a missing kid poster, Will’s picture on the front. The nausea returns to your body.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

“No, uh, that's Will Byers. I know Will and I didn’t recognize this kid. We called social services. They were supposed to come this morning.”

“So there’s a chance this kid’s running around too?”

The thought of the little girl from yesterday being on her own again terrifies you. You count two more sets of ten before another officer pipes up, clearly not reading the room, “Huh chief, what’re the chances of two missing kid cases in the same 24 hours–in Hawkins!”

You see a spark of connection flash on the chief’s face, a look you can understand. You’re pretty sure you’ve connected the same dots he has: Will, the little girl, and Benny’s death are all intertwined.

–––

The bedroom feels tiny yet giant all at once. The popcorn ceiling seems to dance in front of you–probably because you’ve been staring at it for the past few hours. No matter how you try and put the pieces together, none of them fit. Any way you looked at it, it didn’t make sense. The big question underlying everything was Why?

After what felt like another hour of staring at the ceiling, you had a horrible realization. You never got the coffee. Laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably. You trap the laughter behind your hands, horrified at the humor of the situation–and at yourself for getting lost in it. God, what a mess this whole day has turned out to be.

Turning over, your clock displays the time– 4:52 pm. Your dad is still at work. He had stayed with you for an hour before going back, letting you know he’d be back later than normal. He had to be at the store to meet with someone or receive a shipment or something–honestly, you weren’t really listening. You didn’t protest, just gave him a hug and told him you were fine.

You grab your bag and head outside but your truck is nowhere to be found. That's right, you remember, dad drove you home, which means your truck is still at the high school. As you contemplate how long the walk to the school is going to take, Mrs. Henderson leaves her door, calling out your name before walking over, a sad smile on her face. Clearly, news travels fast.

“Oh, Y/n, I was just coming over to check on you. How’re you holding up? Your dad told me what happened.”

You glance down at your converse and shift from foot to foot. “Um I’m ok, all things considered. I was about to head to the store.”

“Why don’t you let me drive you? I’ve been meaning to pick up a few things too,” she’s clearly trying to be subtle but you doubt she’s going to let you go alone.

“Uh sure,” you answer, not wanting to be rude.

Sitting in her car isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it’d be. Mrs. Henderson pointedly doesn’t ask about Benny, but does make small talk.

“How’s volleyball going? Your dad was telling me you made varsity this year? Congratulations!”

“Oh yeah, its pretty good. Coach has us doing morning practices every other day. Getting ready for the first game in a few weeks.”

“Ooh are you excited? It must be nerve wracking to be so close to game day”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess, but I’m not that worried. Our first game is against Cuark High, and they're not that intimidating.”

Mrs Henderson hummed in acknowledgement. The radio played a beach boys song so softly the words were incomprehensible. She tended to listen to older music, you noticed. Soft tunes that crooned of love and hope were always the soundtrack of the Henderson home. You appreciated the way Ms. Henderson emphasized comfort throughout her life.

When the Hendersons first moved in next to you, your father had insisted that you offer your help. After a full day of unloading furniture and unpacking boxes, Mrs. Henderson had cooked you a hearty meal. Dustin was just 9 years old and had stared at you with wide eyes as you ate. As you helped Mrs. Henderson clean the dishes, she’d told you that if you ever needed a woman to talk to, she was just a short walk away.

The woman rambles gently about some mischief her cat got up to while you stare at the radio. It's a horrifyingly familiar piano riff. If there was ever a song you didn’t want to hear, it's this. Elton John’s unintelligible singing continues as it draws nearer to the chorus. You try to will the radio to combust as your hands ball into tighter and tighter fists.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Over and over you count until all you can focus on is the song in your ears and the numbers in your head.

“...Y/n? What's wrong?” Ms. Henderson's voice cuts through the ringing of ears and the song, which seems impossibly loud.

“B-B-B-Bennie and the jets” Elton John's voice sings emphatically.

“Oh god!” Ms Henderson exclaims, quickly switching off the radio, “I’m so sorry sweetie, I didn’t even hear the song playing.”

The silence from the radio is welcome, but the ringing in your ears remains.

As you pulled into the parking lot, you came out of your daze.

“Y/n, sweetie, would you mind grabbing a cart?”

You silently grabbed a shopping cart from the line up, falling into step with her.

“What's on your list?” Mrs. Henderson asked, pulling out a written list from her bag.

“Uh, just coffee”

“Oh, thats it?” You shrugged. Your father had never been the shopping list type, preferring to just pick up whatever he needed on the way home. It was a trait you’d picked up as well.

“Well, we can get that first then we’ll tackle my list.”

You trailed behind your neighbor with the cart, occasionally throwing in groceries that looked interesting or you figured you’d be running out of soon. A pack of coke, a bag of chips, and a carton of eggs soon joined your coffee grinds in the cart, surrounded by Mrs. Henderson’s haul.

It was dark by the time you got out of the store, and you pulled your sweater arms up on your hands to protect them from the chilly air.

Her car warms you up quickly and you are reminded of your own car, “Mrs. Henderson,” you begin, “could you stop by the high school? My truck is still parked there.”

“Of course sweetie, don’t want you walking so early in the morning tomorrow!”

The drive to the school is fairly quiet until a thought pops into your head, “How’s Dustin holding up with the whole Will thing?”

A sad look crosses Mrs. Henderson’s face, “Honestly, I don’t know. He seems to be perfectly unaffected. I don’t know if he’s really optimistic or just putting on a brave face…he’s always been a resilient kid, but I can’t imagine how it’ll affect him if Will…” she shakes the worried look off her face, “I hope they find him soon.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She pulls her car next to yours and turns to face you. “Y/n, I know that you probably don’t want to talk about Benny right now. But I want you to know I’m here for you. If you need a shoulder, or another girls’ night, I’m just a walk away.”

“Oh,” you aren’t sure how to respond, “Thank you…I’ll keep that in mind.”

She pursed her lips, an emotion crossing her face that you couldn’t quite read.

“Anyways, thanks for the ride…it was nice. And make sure Dustin helps you carry in the groceries. I know you’ll probably try and make it in one trip.”

“Dustin’s actually at the Wheelers tonight, though he should be getting soon I suppose.” she replies, seemingly realizing the time

Driving your truck home, you immediately missed the warmth that Mrs. Henderson’s car offered. Alone with your thoughts, your mind began to wander as you drove. Considering all the odd things going on in town, you tried to piece them all together. Maybe Eleven and Will met and were on the run together, but why would Will run away? And on that note, Why had Eleven run? Did social services ever pick her up? How long after they showed up did Benny shoot himself? Did he even wait for it? Did Eleven have to witness it?

You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t see the other car parked on the side of the road. You have to use your whole body to turn the wheel enough to avoid hitting the car. Huh. It looks slightly familiar. Then it hits you. This is Jonathan’s car. You pull in front of it, hopping out the truck. Looking around, you see the caution tape and a pit grows in your stomach.

“Jonathan!” you call out, trying no to let your voice quiver. “Jonathan! Where are you?”

Silence.

You take a deep breath before breaching the treeline, still yelling his name. The empty branches shine silver in the moonlight. Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you carefully step through the woods. You stop for a minute to listen for any sort of response before continuing the trek.

“Y/n?”

You whip around, Jonathan standing behind you, camera in hand

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here?”

He stumbled over his words for a few seconds before clearing his throat, “I was trying to find evidence”

“Evidence of what?”

“I don't know, whatever I could find.”

“Jesus christ. Well, did you find anything?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah me too…I heard about Benny.”

You purse your lips and look away. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

“Are you cold?” Jonathan asks, already tugging off his coat.

“Oh I’m fine, besides, now you’re gonna be cold” you shake your head in protest as he tries to hand you the coat.

“I’ll be fine, besides I run hot.”

You hum in consideration. You are really cold and his jacket looks really warm compared to your hoodie.

“Thanks”

You warm up almost instantly, pulling the coat further around yourself.

You walk back to your cars in solemn silence.

“Jonathan,” you say as you reach the edge of the woods, “I am really sorry about Will. He’s a good kid.”

Jonathan turns to you, eyes shining in the moonlight. He lets out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah he is…I need him to be okay.”

“He will be.” you rest a comforting hand on his shoulder and the boy surprises you with a bear hug. You hear him sniffle into your shoulder.

It's a weird sensation, all in all, as Jonathan holds onto you. You’re not quite sure where to put your hands, and you struggle to support the sudden weight.

“It’ll be ok, you’re ok” you whisper to him, comforting him in his crisis.

His breathing evens out and he steps away, pink faced. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay, Jonathan. Sometimes you just need to let it out.”

He chuckles wetly, wiping his face.

“See you at school tomorrow.”

You wave from your window, “See ya!”

Next Chapter

Tags:

@ucannotcompare

#stranger things #stranger things rewrite #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #where you lead #bob newby #steve harrington x newby!reader #jonathan byers

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normansnt · 1 year ago

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A book by its cover (Usopp x male!punk!reader)

This picture inspired me BIG time. Also I love that people are finally realizing how nice punks are🦦🧡 It may be a bit long but like not that long its aight I hope you like it

There are no warnings its just fluff🐥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black leather jacket with spikes, badges and whatnot. Spiky h/c hair piercings and tattoos all this with black ripped jeans with again different badges and other things on it and black combat boots. Usopp thought this looked quite scary. He looked quite scary. Well ok it looked badass not to mention the guy was handsome... but anyhow he looked like he was from a dark world which Usopp had no intention of entering

The strawhats docked on an island for supplies maybe a little rest and to reset the log pose they had about 1 maybe 1 and a half days. Robin, Nami and Sanji went shopping the girls for clothes Sanji to carry their bags and to buy food. Zoro went to drink beer and take a nap and Luffy went with him claiming he wants to eat (as always). Brook and Jinbe just wanted to look around town. That left Franky, Usopp and Chopper who wanted to go look for supplies for the ship or Usopps bombs and other things.

Thats where they saw him. The guy who sold every kind of parts for ships, to painting supplies, gases and more. He was a tall dude around 6'6 with h/l, h/c hair which was in spikes (or not you decide if it wasn't just ignore it), he had kind e/c eyes and greeted them with a friendly smile. Franky smiled back and got to business right away.

"Hey guys what can I help you with?" Asked the guy in a friendly tone. "We need some supplies for a ship" said Franky cautiously not to mention that they are pirates. "Oh you guys are the Pirates that just docked, ok what kind of parts do you need?" Said the s/c male. Franky, Usopp and Chopper stood there a bit baffled. Even after the guy knew they were pirates the kind smile didn't leave the strangers face.

While Franky was discussing the parts needed Usopp was quiet the whole time something was off with this guy, he looked scary (and handsome but Usopp did not admit that even to himself) but acted very kind and understanding. Not to mention based on what he heard from the conversation he knew what he was talking about. "HAHAHA" Frankies booming laugh got him out of his trance. The guy must have said something awfully funny since he was smiling as well a big smile, a very attractive smile. What? Usopp was very confused at this point. "I could really use someone like you on the ship to help with repairs wouldn't you say Usopp, Chopper?" Asked Franky smiling, the two were just standing there silently. "Sorry how rude of me" said the guy still smiling "I didn't even introduce myself Im Y/N". "Im Franky these two are Usopp and Chopper" smiled Franky while pointing at the two. Usopp and Chopper still didn't say anything. Teddy got down on one knee looked at chopper and reached in his pocket. The too scaredy cats were watching his every move when suddenly he pulled out candy from his pocket. "Do you want one little reindeer?" Asked Y/N with a smile Chopper immediately forgot his fear. Not only because the stranger had candy but because someone finally saw him as a reindeer at the first meeting and not a raccoon. He walked over to Y/N and took some candy. Y/N patted his head. Chopper looked up at him and a bit shyly but asked him: "what are those pointy things on your jacket?". The e/c eyed male laughed and answered: "They are spikes I wear them cuz I think it looks cool" smiled the man than put his tongue out in a rocker way to make the little reindeer laugh. Chopper did laugh and then asked: "Can I touch them?" Y/N smiled and motioned for him to come closer. Chopper liked his spikes very much he thought they are dangerous at first that they hurt, but they didn't. This way Chopper ended up sitting on Y/Ns shoulder. Usopp watched this whole scene with interest. You were THIS nice. Now he feels stupid for thinking you are mean or anything but the way you are dressed deceived him. Usopp was staring at you red faced. It was not only that you were really good looking you had the kindest personality as well and he really couldn't deny it any longer even to himself he liked you, a lot. Y/N looked at him next. "So you're Usopp?" He asked smiling maybe a bit red in the face...? Nah Usopps eyes were lying to him he surely just saw what he wanted to.

"I...uh...YES, I am the great captain Usopp indeed" he said while sweating trying to play it off full of pride. He was kind of embarrassed after a short silence and he was about to apologize when he heard the most pleasant laughter he had ever heard. Y/N laughed at his antics he thought it was hilarious. "Wow alright mighty and powerful captain Usopp" he said whit a mock bow, then they both started laughing Chopper didn't really get it he just sat on Y/Ns shoulder eating the Candy he got while Franky just looked at them with a knowing smile.

After they bought everything they needed (which took nearly the whole day since they had such a great time with Y/N) they had to go back to the ship. Usopp was not happy nor was Chopper and to be fair Franky also took a liking to Y/N so its safe to say none of them wanted to leave him on the island. Y/N was not happy either to see them go he had a great time and enjoyed Usopps funny antics to no end. How ever to recruit a new crew mate was not their job not to mention they had no idea if Y/N was any good in battle.

Usopp was sulking the whole way back. And on the ship as well. They planned to stay on the port of the island for the night then set sail in the morning.

Zoro was on night watch and all of a sudden he saw someone approaching the ship. He stood up to see if the person was actually coming to the ship, but there was no misunderstanding the person was coming to the ship with something on their shoulder and a small bag in their hand. Zoro reacted the moment he saw that that something on the strangers shoulders was an ax.

He jumped off the ship right on the stranger. However, to Zoros utter disbelief, they dodged it. Now that the street light helped him see he saw that it was a guy, wearing a leather jacket with spikes badges and what not. This did not interest him however the thing that bothered him was the ax on his shoulder and the fastness he dodged his attack with it was almost inhuman like.

"What do you want with this ship?" Asked Zoro accusingly. "Listen this is a misunderstanding-" but the stranger did not get to finish their sentence because Zoro attacked. To Zoros disappointed the stranger blocked all of his blows and dodged them with excellence and grace very much like he saw Mihawk do it. The only difference between this guy and Mihawk was that he didn't attack back he just kept defending and of course he used an axe. The rest of the strawhats woke up to this commission outside and watched the fight with shock. Someone holding their own against Zoro with one hand and a small axe without breaking a sweat or attacking back? This was crazy. The moment Usopp stepped on the front of the ship to see whats going on his eyes widened and he looked at Franky. "Isnt that-" "Yes he is" "shouldn't we-" "Yes we should" the two looked at each other then forward at the battle and started yelling "STOP STOP" very loudly Franky jumped off the ship to stop Zoro while Usopp ran over to Y/N to stop him as well.

"Huh?" Asked Zoro after Franky stood in front of him. "Why are you standing in the way?" He asked kind of upset, Franky didn't answer just looked at Y/N and asked "What are you doing here Y/N?".

"Im sorry to disturb your night but after I was going to close the shop I found Usopps bag, and I wanted to return it, so after I left the shop I tried to find your ship based on how you guys described it and well I got kinda lost thats why I only got here this late" explained the s/c male panting lightly due to dodging Zoros attacks. Usopp got red in the face, very red, he left his bag there and didn't even notice since he was busy thinking about Y/N all night. "Thanks Y/N so much somehow I didn't even notice" "Wait you know this punk?" Asked Zoro.

"Wow you're quick" laughed Y/N lightly this made others chuckle a bit as well. "We bought ship supplies from him he was the shop keeper we were telling you about during dinner" yelled Chopper excitedly while running to Y/N to sit on his shoulders. "I don't care what shop you own how did you dodge my attacks this effortlessly?" Asked Zoro still a bit pissed. "Oh thats all thanks to my dad he trained me all my childhood" answered Y/N truthfully. "Your dad? Who is your dad if I may ask the way you move reminds me of someone" asked Sanji. He took a liking to the punk the moment he made fun of Zoro. "Mihawk, Dracule Mihawk" Everyones jaw dropped with their eyes bulging out of their sockets. "MIHAWK HAS A KID???" Yelled Zoro shocked. "Yeah Im kind of used to these reactions however y'all are a bit extreme Im guessing you know him" said Y/N in a usual tone not very phased by their reactions."Join my crew" said Luffy all of a sudden. Nami screamed when she notice Luffy was standing next to her because when everyone came out he was still sleeping. "You look strong and I saw you fight then I heard you are Mihawks son you are joining my crew" said Luffy smiling big. "Oh... eh I really didn't plan on becoming a pirate..." started off Y/N. Then he looked at Usopp who was looking at him with hopeful eyes and then at Chopper who was looking with puppy eyes Franky also tried doing Puppy eyes but it looked rather creepy from a big man like him. It was still hard though Y/N liked this town not to mention his shop. "But you are joining" said Luffy still smiling then headed back to his bed like the discussion was ower "uh..." Y/N stood there confused, then Usopp started laughing, "Yeah Im afraid it isn't your decision " Usopp continued laughing then started to walk towards the ship. With everyone else "Come on Y/N you are our nakama now" smiled Usopp while grabbing his hand and walking to the Thousand sunny. Never judge a book by its cover I guess you could say that for any member of the Straw hat crew Y/N will fit right in.

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WELP

My second fanfic🥳

I wrote this for an embarrassingly long time even I don't know why lol💀

Anyway I LOVE Usopp he is so goofy and no mf in the world will tell me he isn't gay not yo mention Im a HUGE believer of trans Usopp so😗

SO I hope you liked this fic I will write more with time but I have things to do

Ladies, gentlemen and others I hope you enjoyed your reading, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

#one piece imagine #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #straw hat usopp #usopponepiece #usopp x reader #usopp x y/n #usopp x you #straw hats x reader #male reader

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titichan · 5 months ago

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The Taste of Betrayal

Chapter-5

Tags: Vampire!Au, Vampire-Hunter dynamics, Bottom!Yuuji, Top!Gojo, Top!Sukuna, Threesome, M/M/M, Sex toys, Bondage, Slight bdsm, Rough sex, A little bit of gore, porn with Plot, Slight mentions of Meimei and Nanami, Author is Sukuna's bitch, Blackmailing, Sex tapes, Filming, Other tags will be added as I commence

Notes: Sooo.... Yuuji gets 'eaten' by our daddy suku-chan 😏👉👈❗️

Yuuji finally regained consciousness, tilting to his side. Looking at his hand, the ceiling above and the bed he was in, shot fear and alert in his mind. 

In a frenzy, he tried to get up, but his actions were restrained due to a collar which was tied neatly around his neck and was chained with the bed. 

Struggling to free himself, he started thinking-

'When did all of this happened? I... was at the bar counter...oh yeah, that blonde bitch forced me to drink- a fucking amount of seven glasses...then, I had spilled some whiskey on a person and spoiled their shirt...'

Faint memories of the tattooed hand passed through his mind. 

'Tattoos...wait...S-Sukuna Ryomen?!?' His eyes widened with shock and realization. 

He touched his neck, his slender fingers trailing the collar. He understood this was a sturdy one and he isn't getting out of here any moment soon.

It was only when he realized that he only had his shirt and boxers on. 

'Haah...fuck. I'm screwed.'

20 minutes passed.

Yuuji was still struggling to break free. Just when, a big figure loomed over him. He touched the back of the neck of the smaller one softly, which earned him a surprised gasp from Yuuji.

Yujii turned around hastily, his face, reddened. He saw the mafia boss, who had a toothy grin across his face. 

He seemed to have showered just now. The aromatic smell of roses filling the room. But one thing to be noted by Yuuji, he only had a towel on him- which was literally struggling to keep in place.

The man was pretty much well-built, with his most striking feature being the tattoos. Yujii's eyes trailed off to his lower waist. 

'Does... he have tattoos down there too?'

A deep chuckle snapped him back to reality.

The vampire bent down, leaning closer to the hunter. He whispered in a low, seductive tone, "Darling, what happened? You look disturbed."

That quite irked Yuuji out. Gritting his teeth, he glared at him. "And what do you want from me, you fucker?"

Sukuna grabbed Yujii's face by his chin, his vampiric eyes glinting with untold desire. "But dear, you've promised me something~"

The pink haired grunted, "What do you mean by that?"

The vampire traced his fingers on the hunter's collar, sneering. "Oh my, you forgot? How pitiful~"

Turning his neck to the side in resistance, Yuuji snapped at him. "Just spit it out and don't beat around the bush."

Without any warning, Sukuna pinned him down on the bed, the collar slightly choking him. 

"Ugh..what do you think you're doing?!" Poor Yuuji was squirming under Sukuna's strong grip. However, it was useless.

The vampire came down, their bodies dangerously pressed together, as he whispered softly, "You said you'll pay me with your body~"

His words made him flushed. He remembered what he said when he was drunk, and out of embarrassment, his eyes squeezed shut.

Sukuna grinned as his hands trailed off and rested on Yuuji's thigh. Just squeezing it lightly made him whimper.

That was enough to make Sukuna's rationality to snap.

Grabbing one thigh and mounting it on his shoulder, he tugged on his boxers seductively. "Mmm darlin'~ You'll have to fulfil your promise now~" 

Yuuji was already a whimpering mess, and the position made him even more uncomfortable. He couldn't even answer properly. 

Groping his thigh hard, he ripped off his shirt and boxers with one go. 

He peppered small kisses on his thigh, before baring his canine teeth to bite it. His teeth slowly sunk into the soft flesh, as he sucked the blood greedily.

The bite gave Yuuji a weird tingling feeling as it formed a tight knot in his gut.

 Trying to resist him, he attempted to move his thigh away from him, but the sensation was too strong for him to even think properly.

Whimpering hopelessly, a meek voice called out to him, "mmph...I-It feels weird..."

The black haired grinned against his thigh, as he withdrew from it. His fingers rubbed away the excess blood which was dripping from his mouth. Licking his blood-stained fingers, he prompted in a low guttural voice, "Your blood is so sweet~"

That made redness creep up into Yuuji's face, as he tried to avert his gaze.

Grabbing his face by his cheeks, he forced him to look at him. "Dearest, don't be shy..."

Slowly, Sukuna let go of that towel which was covering his lower waist.

Yuuji's eyes caught the sight of the monstrous dick- which practically made him even more scared. 

"...wait...don't tell me- how's that thing going to even fit me?!" He almost screeched.

That remark made the tattooed man laugh. "Pfft- don't worry, dear. You'll be all fine~"

It was when, he extended his tattooed arm towards the bedside drawer, taking the lube in hands. Yuuji was quite surprised that this ruthless mafia boss actually thought of prepping him- No. What is he even he thinking? He needed to take a grip of himself. No fucking way can he let this man to fuck him. To let his own target to fuck him.

And yes, that was a perfect time to land a punch right on the vampire's face, which did draw out some blood from his nose.

Taken aback by that, he ran his fingers across his nose, and stayed silent for a moment.

Yuuji assumed that he must have probably scared the shit out of him with his perfect punch. But an assumption is always an assumption. 

Sukuna looked at him, panting. Like a rabid dog in heat. 

"Haah...fuck...that punch of yours...was so good~ And you looked so fuckable when you did that."

And now he knew. He was screwed.

Like, really screwed

Ending Note: Ok, so since this has been written 3 months ago- and it seems like; I HAVE FUCKED UP BBG YUUJI'S NAME- LIKE IS IT YUUJI OR YUJII!?!?!? HALP😭😭😭 Then, ma request to y'all, pls do tell meh if I've misspelled >"<

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acheronist · 5 months ago

Note

HI ISABEL i was thinking abt ur beechey boys + peglar/armitage extended cinematic universe while doing my laundry earlier (<- normal guy behaviour) and now i'm curious if u've thought of any actors/face claims for them – beechey boys especially bc we don't even have terror versions to use lol 👀🎤

HI GENEEEE 🖤 this is interesting.... honestly i've never been very good at fan casting shit because my default is always just going "x character should be played by riz ahmed" which ummmm would not work here i fear.

anyways everyone watch out there's gonna be mummy images below the cut

okay i really don't care about actors enough to do this well ummm LMAO johnny bertchtold YOU🫵🏻 are now john shaw torrington!! except johnny's way too tall and also ripped to be jorts.... i will say tho, as annoying as the john torrington/david young erasure is in the amc show, they did kind of nail it with alfie kingsnorth... now that's a skinny blonde bitch who looks half dead! he's got the right big round eyes + prominent cheekbones as jorts

if we could get some mutton chops and the uniform of a royal marine private onto ferdinand kingsley i think he'd be fantastic as william braine..... actually now that i'm looking at this i kind of feel like a genius for this one LMAO??

john hartnell is a little harder because i've already decided in my heart that this daguerreotype is 100% undeniably him even though the chances of it are actually probably very low. in actuality. but i have tried to match up the daguerreotype "hartnell" with the mummy hartnell and i do think it's a super close match.... i just wish mr. daguerreotype hadn't tucked his hair over his ear so i could compare the shape of john's ear.... but anyways there is actually one bg dude from terror amc who i have also kind of decided could be jarts!!! he was one of the dudes who voted to stay on terror and die there instead of out on the shale before everyone abandoned ship... he's got the right haircut for it <3 but also i think rob james-collier could be kind of a slay for jartnell if we can get him back to his downton abbey prime

and then thomas morgan hasn't really made his debut in the beechey boys cinematic universe (yet. chapter two still cooking......) and we also haven't exhumed HIM so this is really just like throwing a dart and calling it good. i did draw a little version of him here tho . so do with this as you will i guess. me when i'm just making up whatever the fuck. he should be kind of sickly looking as well though because my dude was going THROUGH it (+ he had one million pre existing conditions) before he died.

and for like... henry & thomas theyre much more nebulous in my brain..... maybe i'll try and draw them later!? i did do fanart here of henry tho but i fear it's got a heavy amc casting influence on what he looked like.

real life facts: thomas (5'9") is 2 inches taller than henry (5'7"), henry probably had broad/strong arms and shoulders due to climbing around in the rigging for his whole career, both of them had brown hair, and thomas was older than henry enough that he was probably starting to get salt-and-pepper grey during the miserable stressful parts of the expedition. henry's id papers describe his complexion as "sallow" and based on how many captains said he had a shitty/indifferent/bored attitude while working leads me to believe my king had chronic resting bitch face + looked vaguely exhausted and pale and unwell even when he was healthy.

also in my heart amc nailed it with giving thomas curly hair tho... charlie kelly is cute to meeeeee... unfortunately he isn't 40 years old enough. no source no facts anyways i just want to believe in curly girl armitage supremacy. ALSOOOO in my heart (again) henry has sailor tattoos-- HOLD FAST on his knuckles for good luck in the ropes + two swallows on his chest under each collarbone to mark his 10,000th mile at seas. i forgot what i was talking about. i think do think k*vin g*thrie's face was honestly too conventionally attractive for henry though. i just know my man was mid as fuck. frown lines from scowling, ink stains on his fingers at all times, never worn sunblock ever, thinks splashing water on his face counts as moisturizing etc.... MY henry peter peglar is pretty weather-beaten and looks like a mean cunt and sometimes he snarls at people like a badly trained dog. amen.

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boxwinebaddie · 5 months ago

Note

HI Uncle Nina <3 Can we hear about how your Rm!Style met as kids?

listen, you guys. i am SO excited for this!!! words cannot express how excited it makes me when i get to talk about the prequel, like they are sooo stikin' cute in the prequel!!! ilysm baby raven and jersey. MWAH!

*eldritchhorror!kenny!nina cracks knuckles n opens up a portal* okay girls, gays n gays, we're going on a field trip,

TO THE PAST!

( i’m chaotic bi ms. frizzle in the pink y2k hello kitty bus )

so, i gotta be honest, my friends, i don't know EXACTLY how old the boys are, but i am gonna say they are anywhere between 6-8 y/o. it's summer time and the broflovski's have just moved to southern park, colorado from sheila's hometown in new jersey...and have moved in right next door...to the marsh family, namely:

ravenstanley r.w. marsh.

who i am using as a primary narrator...FOR ONCE!

because to tell you this was the best day of his life was an goddamn understatement...to tell you that this changed his life, even, is a fkn understatement because this moment, this fateful day GAVE HIS ENTIRE LIFE MEANING. meeting kyle broflovski...was Everything.

again, it wasn't just like 'oh, this boy who moved next door to me is kinda cute, i might have a crush on him'

It Was Dead Serious, Guys.

a teeny tiny, itsy bitsy, ickle ravenstanley marsh heard a single loud, angry, brutal note of the kyle broflovski new jersey slaughterhouse and was immediately irreversibly head over heels IN LOVE with him.

fresh from jersey kyle asked stan if he could open his fresca and the man's synesthesia was flashing, spinning, ringing and dinging like he was playing the world's biggest slot machine and just hit JACKPOT.

and that was before he got a good look at him because...

Wooooowza. <3

all the hundreds of little freckles speckled over his skin like sun-stars, his big, beautiful curly red hair, his gorgeous, glowering mean, green eyes ravenstan was legitimately Breathtaken by kyle's beauty, omfg.

however, the funniest part abt all of this to me is that poor sweet pre!rm rae is legitimately having divine visions and hearing angelic choirs, meanwhile pre!rm jers is just staring blankly at this weird, giant-eyed freaky mouth-breathing rural colorado kid ( who ig is his neighbor now, smh ) that's just staring up at him and sweating and shaking and looks like he's having a Stroke.

edit: i forgot to describe what they looked like so know that ravenstan had come out of the house because his mom told him to say hi to the neighbors and help them with boxes and stuff, say hi to their son, etc.

i think his hair is shoulder length, but its in a lil ponytail, he's in randy's gigantic black sabbath t-shirt, probably has a gigantic edgy boy temp tattoo of a skull or a snake on his neck, smh, little like hot wheels, boy section of target-esqe stickers all over his face and arms, little other edgy elementary school boy marker tattoos on his arms because he literally has always been a rockstar.

meanwhile, jersey, in canon ncu baby kyle fashion, is wearing his gigantic kyle signature orange coat and green ushanka IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER because he is self conscious and sheila bought both on sale at the mall during summer when the winter stuff is all half up because she's a thrifty queen and wants him to get wear out of them and break them in...smh.

so he is sweating like hell and just wants to get his fresca open, which is very vintage and still comes in the bottle.

but regarding The Fresca Of Fate,

stan Does eventually ( open / it. )

...in the most chaotic, unhinged way possible, btw.

which is that baby ravenstan bites, rips and twists the cap off with his teeth like a feral fucking animal ( which i think happened because he was legitimately panicking like holy shit, what do i do, what the Fuck do i doooo?!?! i don't know how to get this open but the beautiful spotty boy w/ the perfect voice asked me to do it, so ¡oRALE! )

note: it is this party trick that he'd seen randy do a couple of times and just replicated, but totally ripped his lip open in the process, btw.

anyways, rae hands the fresca back to baby jersey and because he is a fkn idiot but also a superstar ( i love u raven ) shoots kyle the signature stanley marsh wink-peace sign-finger gun combo wombo.

and jersey is just SHOOK because that was, in fact, criminally insane, but also...kinda cool? and an oddly touching gesture because he could have just handed the bottle back or said go fuck yourself, new kid! because he didn't give a shit about this kid from next door and his parents were both busy...but wanted kyle to have his little drinky poo so bad that he literally busted his lip open turning into a can-opener for ky...and did the cutest, weirdest most awkward hand-sign ever.

tldr; it was brave and reckless and boyish and radiant. and kyle, who usually is highly disgusted by the germs of other people...finds that brings the lip of the fresca bottle to his with ease, sips his drink, which tastes like victory and probably a bit like cinnamon red hots, watches his weirdo neighbor give him the wink peace sign finger gun combo and is so weirdly endeared by this that he...

gives stan a rare kyle smile and even rarer kyle laugh. :’)

and this is so glorious and gorgeous to ravenstan that he literally cannot breathe, his heart is pounding in his chest, he is fkn shaking, goes to say something and immediately THROWS UP ALL OVER KYLE AND PASSES OUT. skhdlksahdsh HEEEEELP NO.

but yeah...that's how dad and dad met. please note that in canon ncu fashion ravenstan followed jersey around like a lovesick puppy, ignoring all of the kids trying to get his attention and play with him, desperate for kyle to acknowledge his existence for literally five seconds or accept his offer of being super best friends...

all the while, jerseykyle is trying to get away from him because he doesn't like other people, doesn't want to be friends, just wants to be left alone and be alone skhdld and is like weird kid with the giant eyeballs PLEASE FUCK OFF ( this does make stan fall more in love with him, stan i need you to go to therapy for the type of guys u like ) and this apathy and disinterest continues until...

stan takes the stark's pond hockey puck for him.

and suddenly, kyle's cold dead heart starts beating again, he sees ravenstan in the hospital recovering from slicing his face and mouth open again, who smiles so hard he RIPS his stitches open again, smh and from that moment on, they are Super Best Friends.

but both secretly want something more, legend says.

-uncle nina, obsessed with the prequel <3

#BRAAAAAAAAAAAAANCH IN MY EEEEEEEEEEEYE #sorry i have been dead silent guys when i tell u i have been so busy and so tired that i cannot keep my eyes open omg #but i wanted to give u some canopener lip lore #yes ravenstan still does this as a party trick #its extremely bad for ur teeth don't do it stan likes to be cool #he does not slice his lip open anymore thank goodness #management tells him hes really not supposed to because of the filling in his front tooth but ravenstan is a really bad listener #hi adhd smh #BUT NO LIKE HE IS SO INSANE HE WAS LIKE OH GOD OH FUCK MUST IMPRESS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE #MY NICE MOM IS INSIDE WITH PERFECT BOYS MOM #MY SCARY ASS DAD IS OUTSIDE WITH PERFECT BOYS SCARY DAD AND IM SCARED TO ASK HIM FOR ANYTHING #SO HERE WE GO JUST GONNA USE MY TEETH LMAO #he is insane but he is also a romantico king what can i say #the way kyle was just like...wow that was so weird but also why is my face kinda warm no boy has cared abt me like that #ALSO YES HE DOES THROW UP ON KYLE A LOT WHEN THEY ALMOST KISS MULTIPLE TIMES ITS A THEME #YES IT SUCKS also i love my ncu canon of baby stan being obsessed with kyle and slow burn tsundere kyle #being like fuck off and leave me alone u are so weird while the entire town is like stan marsh pls notice me HEEELP #MY! SONS!!!#but no after the hockey puck incident jersey was wooed #and they were both in secret gay crush on my sbf hell smh

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moondust-imagines · 6 months ago

Text

Ink pt.4 (Christian Cage x Reader)

Not me bringing this back after months 😅

Masterlist

“Y/n has your name on her shoulder” Nick blurted out. They were all gathered in Christian’s locker room, aside from Killswitch. Your tattoo had been playing on his mind for days since you had helped him with his tie. How could two people be so close as to get each other’s names permanently on their skin but never speak a word to each other? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“Nick! Don’t be so nosy” Shayna chastised him. He curled in on himself preparing for another long scolding from his mother. Before she could start, Christian held his hand up to quiet her.

“It’s alright, young boys always have questions” He said before turning towards Nick.

“We spent a lot of time together, me and her. But she was stupid, she didn’t listen to me. Now she’ll never wrestle again” He explained “So, if you’re smart, you’ll listen to every word I say”

Nick nodded quickly not wanting to cause any more trouble. Christian tapped on his phone slightly too aggressively. He doesn’t like thinking about you. He doesn’t want to feel guilty about what happened, he was in the right, he knows he is. But every time he heard your name a pit grew in his stomach.

Maybe one day you’ll see his side of things. You’ll understand that he was just looking out for you because he loves you. He’s tried to find anyone that makes him feel like you do, no one even comes close. You make him question if this is even all worth it, losing his friends and fans for the money. When he’s not even got you to spend it on.

You cursed out loud as your phone died in your hand. Damn modern technology and the fact it was now 100 times harder for you to get back to the hotel. Adam had left already so catching a ride with him wasn’t happening. Hopefully there were still some stragglers hanging around the arena you could catch a ride home with.

The longer you walked around trying to find anyone, the more panicked you got. You couldn’t even find a damn charger never mind a ride. As you turned down another corridor, one of the doors to a temporary office opened, Tony Khan and Christian wandering out of it.

“Hey Y/n, you still here?” Tony smiled politely.

“Yeah, my phone died so I can’t call an uber.” You grumbled

“I can give you a ride” Christian seemed to jump at the chance. You internally cringed at the thought of being stuck in a car with him but what other choice did you have.

“Oh I’m sure your car is pretty full, I’m sure there’s someone else around” You tried to talk your way out of it.

“No, Shayna and Nick left already. It’s just me” He shrugged. Tony was obviously itching to get away from this awkward conversation and quietly excused himself.

“Come on y/n, I don’t bite” Christian sighed

“Alright fine” You huffed.

You silently followed him to his car, trailing slightly too far behind for him to even try and make conversation. You slid into the passenger seat without a word, not even meeting his gaze for a second. You noticed a scrunchie wrapped around his rear view mirror and raised your eyebrows. Maybe him and Shayna were closer than you thought.

“She forgot it” Christian muttered, noticing where you were staring. You blushed a little, slightly embarrassed you had been caught. You shouldn’t be jealous that he had moved on, what claim did you have on him now?

“It’s just a scrunchie, Y/n. It doesn’t mean anything” He sighed as if he could sense you overthinking.

“I know” You mumbled, turning your head to stare out the window. Silence hung in the air awkwardly, neither of you wanted to break it.

“It’s fine, if you are….. together. It’s none of my business” You said slowly. He chuckled dismissively, shaking his head.

“Correct, it’s not your business.” He snapped “But, for the record, we’re not”

Silence fell over the car once more. Part of you wanted to rip him a new one, for all the hurt he’s caused these last few years. Another part of you just wanted to fall back into his arms, some delusional piece of your brain was convinced you could fix him.

“Want to go get something to eat?”

The restaurant was far too fancy for a late night road trip meal. But Christian insisted, he doesn’t waste his time in ‘low-rate’ places anymore. The awkwardness was starting to fade away, his defensiveness was failing. He was starting to act like the old Christian again.

“So that Nick kid, you think he’s got potential?” You asked

“I see a lot of myself in him but he’s young. We’ll see” He shrugged

“Building a legacy huh?” You half joked

“Yeah, I thought we would’ve built that together” He sighed

“You’re the one who left, Christian” You replied quietly

“You’re the one who couldn’t listen to me” He huffed. You felt anger bubble in your chest but you forced it down, not here. You refused to make a scene.

“How is your back, really?” He asked after a long beat of silence.

“Good as it will ever be” You mumbled, pushing around the food on your plate with your fork. You could feel him watching you, bile burned the back of his throat as he remembered watching you leave that arena.

“I… should’ve went to the hospital with you” He said quietly. He refused to apologise, he wasn’t wrong: he couldn’t be wrong. He saw you freeze for a moment as you processed his words.

“Do you wanna get desert or hit the road?” You asked

Once Christian had parked the car and handed you your bag from the trunk, you thought he would strut away. But he hovered for a second.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” He said with an uncharacteristic shrug of his shoulders.

“Uh yeah. Thanks again for the ride, and dinner” You replied with a polite smile.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it” He waved his hand dismissively as he finally walked away.

He struggled to sleep that night, he lay staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. It bothered him that you were so uncomfortable around him. He was still your Christian, somewhere in his soul. It also bothered him that there was no way to fix your relationship. Not anymore.

#aew imagine #christian cage x reader #christian cage imagine

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brandstifter-sys · 1 year ago

Text

Violets

For @dukexietyweek Day 1: Tattoo Shop/Florist (Ao3) (login required)

Word Count: 1261

Characters: fem Virgil (Violetta), fem Remus (Reina)

Rating: T

Warnings: Trans fem Remus, Genderbend, genderfuckery, miscommunication, mild sexual themes

Vi is just an average florist, working a job she doesn't like, but it's worth the frustration because of the tattoo artist across the street. Reina is confident and apologetically trans, why wouldn't Vi have feelings for her? But when Reina comes in to order a bouquet of flowers so she can ask someone out, Vi is heartbroken. If only she knew just who was getting those flowers.

---

If there was one thing Violetta hated in her life, it was her job. She was fine with flowers, but she was so done with the people buying them. Someone is sick or dying, someone forgot their anniversary, bridezillas demanding the very best for their "special day," cheaters trying to make up for being scum—she hated working with those people. And she hated the people who tried to flirt with her on the clock.

It was an average Tuesday and business was slow as usual. Vi was scrolling through her phone, finished with cleaning and stocking. She was happy to have some quiet time and roll up her sleeves.

So she had to keep her arms covered at work because of her ink. Her boss was a little old man with some old fashioned ideas about professional appearance. He and his husband were absolutely wonderful beside that one detail, so Vi didn't complain.

She was considering adding more detail to her arms later. She was happy with the black angular vines creeping down her forearms and the fluttering burning rose petals dancing around them. But she wanted to add some webs and thorns. And she knew exactly who she wanted to do it.

Her mind wandered to the tattoo artist across the street. She was so bold and fearless, proud to let her freak flag fly. She was so energetic and friendly, gorgeous and strong. Vi had no idea how to talk to her without making a fool of herself.

"Hello!" a familiar, nasally voice pulled her out of her trance. Vi put away her phone and looked up at the customer. She knew that mustachioed grin immediately.

"He—Hey Reina," Vi stammered and hid her face behind her hair. Reina giggled and flipped her wavy dark curls over her bare shoulders.

"I didn't know you had ink! It's so cool!"

"Uh, thanks," Vi said softly and rubbed her neck, "What brings you here?

"I need your help," Reina gasped and shimmied, drawing attention to her muscular tits.

"With what?"

"I need the perfect bouquet to ask a total babe out, and you would have to know the perfect flowers for her!" Reina beamed. She didn't seem to notice Vi's heart breaking.

Violetta pulled her sleeves down and cracked her neck. She could do this.

"So what are you thinking, something big and dramatic?"

"No, she's pretty subtle, except when she smiles—I would rip off my bike shorts and corset in an instant if she told me to while wearing that grin!" Reina gushed and squished her cheeks.

Violetta bristled but tried to keep her feelings out of her work. Whoever made Reina this giddy had to be special and incredible.

"So, a subtle way to ask her out—You'd probably want morning glories, white jasmines, pink camellias," Vi said and grabbed a notepad to write down the order.

"What would you want in that kind of bouquet?" Reina pressed and wiggled her mustache.

"Me? Uh, I kinda ignore flower language, but I would probably want to get purple hyacinths, irises, and violets. Pretty much anything purple."

"Gimme a small bouquet of all of those!" Reina gasped and bounced on her heels.

"How soon do you need it?" Vi asked and wrote down her order.

"How soon can old Vince make it?" Reina asked with the excitement of a puppy. Vi could make it and have it ready by the end of her shift. Vince had a lot to do.

"It can be ready by 3."

"Sweet! I'll be back by then! Thanks Vi!" Reina giggled and skipped off, making Vi regret waking up that morning.

Of course she was going to regret it a lot more when the next customer came into the shop.

---

Reina was thrilled when she clocked out and skipped into the flower shop. The curvaceous chubby violet wasn't at the counter, but that was okay! Old Vince was there and the humble bouquet was just waiting for her.

"Hey Vinny!" she cheered and skipped up to the counter, "I have an order to pick up!"

The old man chuckled at her hype and picked up the purple bouquet.

"Is this for who I think it's for?" Vince hummed knowingly. Reina beamed and nodded.

"Then it's on the house. She'll be out any minute."

"Really? You're the best Vinny!"

"It's free if she accepts it."

"I hope she does! She's so pretty and hot and I want to worship her butt and cuddle under the stars! God I hope she's into genderfuck trans women!" Reina gushed, unaware that Vi was trying to sneak past with her hood up.

"See you tomorrow Vi," Vince called to her. Vi turned to him and waved. Reina saw her runny eyeliner and immediately marched up to her, bouquet in hand.

"Who do I need to fight?" she asked and grabbed Vi's shoulders. Her eyes were so red and puffy.

Vi pulled away and shook her head. Reina didn't need to know why she was crying. It was mainly because of that bouquet.

"It's nothing—just another bridezilla. You don't have to worry about me. Go ask your girl out. Cut flowers don't last forever," she said and hurried out the door.

Reina hurried after her.

"Vi, wait!" Reina gasped and nearly barreled into her on the sidewalk.

"What the hell?!" Vi snapped as she regained her balance.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to ask you out. I can't even ask if you leave!" Reina giggled with an adorable blush on her cheeks.

"Me?"

"Yeah! I really like you and I know I'm not the most feminine woman so I understand if you aren't interested in—"

"Are you telling me I made a bouquet for me?" Vi scoffed incredulously.

"I thought I said I wanted Vinny to make it," Reina pouted, "So you wouldn't have to make your own bouquet."

"And you're sure you want to ask me out? You have to have other options."

"How many options do you think I have?" Reina giggled, "I’m a genderfuck trans woman who won’t take any shit about being the right kind of trans!”

“Still.”

“If you want to say no, I won’t be mad at you, I won’t take it too bad,” Reina sighed, “I’m not trying to force anything or hurt you.”

Vi bit her lip and took a deep breath. She could do this, even if she was hesitant. She wanted this.

“Ree,” she said and stood on her toes to kiss her cheek, “You wanna come over and get take out? We can marathon Halloween and cuddle.”

“Should I go home and get comfy clothes?”

“No, I have some stuff that should fit you. And if you tear the sleeves, I don’t mind,” Vi shrugged, “I kinda like the idea of having a buff girlfriend.” And then she squeaked as Ree scooped her up, holding her by the thighs.

“If you just want me to go shirtless, you can say so!” she giggled as Vi hid her face in her shoulder, “I won’t stop you from freeing the tiddy!”

“Ree, put me down,” Vi huffed, “People are staring.”

Reina kissed her head and gently set her on her feet. Vi grabbed her hand and led her toward her apartment.

“And maybe if you want, I can show you the rest of my ink,” Vi suggested. Reina would be thrilled to take her up on that offer, but she was happy just to hold her hand and call Vi her big tiddy goth girlfriend. Even if the flowers did nothing to get them there.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #fem!sides #fem!dukexiety #mtf!remus #dukexietyweek2023 #day 1 #genderbend #sex mention tw

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cursingtoji · 3 years ago

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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 - 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥!𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

summary: Chainsaw man universe where humans can form contracts with devils in exchange of sacrificing something valuable.

cw: fem! reader, masturbation, oral (fem. receiving), degradation, biting, mentions of blood, one thigh slap, degradation (whore, slut are used), sukuna makes reader call him master, usage of sukuna’s hand mouth except its reader’s hand? unrequited love (reader -> aki).

wc: 1.8k

note: you don't need to know the chainsaw man universe to read this, I tried to give a little context :) I do recommend it tho

next chapter: Consequences

In this doomed world you had to form a contract with a devil if you wanted to be strong enough to hunt other devils and protect your partners. So when you were presented with the opportunity to bind a contract with a powerful devil and not having to sacrifice your sight, or a limb, or even your own life you took it.

You forgot about what exactly you were sacrificing when you yelled Enchain for the first time during a fight where your partner Aki was about to be killed by a nasty devil.

In a second it was like you fell asleep, no longer in control of your own body, but you could watch your new black claws and tattooed arms rip the devils head, burning the remains of his body with black flames, saving Aki from a horrible death.

Aki was about to thank you when he met with your face adorned with black marks and a red eyes looking down at him.

“You are her devil” Aki murmured to himself “Sukuna”.

“More like she is my human, you pathetic excuse of a man” you felt the words coming out of your mouth in a tone that wasn’t yours.

“Sukuna enough, change back” you said from the void you were in, where Aki couldn’t hear you.

“What is she sacrificing for saving my life?” Aki asked the devil, ignoring the insult. His concern was you losing something important because he was too careless.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Sukuna spitted the words with amusement and soon the black marks on your face vanished, your consciousness returned to your body as you flexed your hands.

“I’ll take what’s mine tonight” Sukuna's voice echoed from the void.

“Are you okay? What will Sukuna take from you?” Aki held your shoulders as you stared into his eyes.

“Tell him, pet” Sukuna’s voice echoed inside your head again “Tell him how his slut of a partner agreed to pay me back by letting me take all her holes as I please”.

“Mind your business, Hayakawa” you replied your partner dryly, shaking his hands off your shoulders “You can write the report this time.”

As soon as you got to your small apartment you took a shower to get rid of the remains of the devil Sukuna ripped. Aki’s face came to your mind, this was the second time he asked about the terms of your contract with Sukuna.

The first time was when you had just left Sukuna’s cell after verbally accepting his demands.

“So, care to tell me what’s so different about you for Sukuna to offer a contract?” Aki asked, taking a drag of his cigarette outside the building.

“It’s been centuries since I last smelled a virgin” you remembered Sukuna’s words, surprising you with his bluntness “Let’s do this, you will give me all your first experiences, all of your little holes, then whenever you use our keyword I’ll take over and finish” you were about to argue against his perverted demands “I don’t ever lose, little hunter. You can try to offer me something else, just be aware that my last vessel paid with his life just to use one of my arms, I’m offering you a chance you will never find again.”

“Not telling” you answered Aki taking his cigarette before leaving.

You could never tell Aki you would have Sukuna ripping your insides every time you called for him.

Not Aki.

Sukuna was clear when he said he should be the only one touching you.

If you gave your body to another man or woman, the contract was over, and you couldn’t afford losing that much power.

But that meant the man you were in love with couldn’t ever take you like you wanted him to.

Aki Hayakawa was your partner for the last two years, and even with the two of you bumping heads from time to time you quickly fell for him, and fuck— all the times you wanted to have him kissing you when you two went for a night out, getting drunk with other hunters… you got so close once just to have Himeno causing a scene and making everyone go home.

Now, laying on your bed in nothing but a towel you wished you could call him and make him pay you back for saving his life by nailing you.

“Did you forget about me, little hunter? Don’t you know I can listen these filthy thoughts of yours like a fucking news cast?” you quickly sat up your bed at the sound of Sukuna’s voice inside your head.

“Fucking pervert” you murmured.

“Lay down, I’m taking what’s mine now” you obeyed still annoyed with the lack of privacy, “Have you ever touched that whore hole of yours?”

You shouldn’t get aroused by his filthy words, but somehow they made your insides tingle.

“N-Not exactly” you responded and pressed your naked thighs together

“Show me what you do when that pathetic boy comes to your mind” the voice demanded. You thought it was better to get through it the quickest way possible, so you opened your towel exposing your body to the dim lights of your bedroom. You raised your knees and placed your foot at the mattress, your fingers found the little bud and you started to draw circles over it like you always did.

“Really? Just that? Oh little one, I have so much to show you it makes my dicks throb with the expectation” your hand came to a sudden stop upon the plural he used to refer his member, “Don’t stop” your hand was forcibly back to your cunt, now it was cupping it while your palm pressed your clit.

You gasped out loud at the foreign feeling of a wet thing dragging along your folds. Looking down you saw a mouth right on the middle of your palm, a long sharp tongue licking your bottom lips taking and giving even more moisture.

“Surprised?” this time Sukuna’s voice came from the little mouth “Insert a finger” the voice demanded, you were too shocked by it to argue and ended up obeying it, your middle finger found your entrance and slowly sunk in. The mouth was directly on your clit, but instead of licking it, Sukuna's tongue was circling around the little nub, never actually touching it.

“S-Sukuna…” you murmured and tried to rearrange it into touching where you wanted.

The stinging feeling of a slap burned your thigh making you scream. Your left hand now had a little mouth on top too and you took a while to realize Sukuna slapped your thigh with your own hand, the one that wasn't in between your legs. And when the burning slap hit you, it didn’t feel like your own hand did it, more like Sukuna took control of that one limb for the sake of punishing you.

“It’s master to you, slut, now open these legs again and you better start moving your fingers because if I take control of that I won’t take them out until there’s blood, you heard me?” the mouth at the top of your left hand said, tears began to pool in your eyes because of the hard slap.

“Master” you murmured and did as you were told, your finger moved inside of you slowly, exploring the new discovered cave. The mouth disappeared only to reappear at your left palm, now smoothly licking the place at your thigh that received the slap seconds ago.

Now both your palms had mouths on them, the mouth at your right hand began to lick everywhere but your clit.

“Add another” he demanded and you pulled your middle finger out just to join it with your ring finger bringing both back in, a pleasing burning sensation of being stretched made you arch your back mewling. “That’s it, little hunter, now curve your fingers”.

You moaned like you have never before when you found a spongy spot inside you, you kept hitting there and flexing your fingers inside you when the little mouth finally met your aching bud.

“You don’t get to cum before I say so, got it? Add another” you were already shaking when you brought your index finger inside your cunt.

Your left hand not only had a little mouth, but was also a lot bigger, moving on it’s own, black sharp nails were digging into the soft skin of your thigh making you hiss and attempt to shut your legs, Sukuna’s hand grabbed holding it open, “Stay still” he demanded. The mouth in between your legs started to lightly suck your clit as you moved your fingers. You involuntarily tried to close your legs again only to receive another hard slap at the side of your thigh.

“I’m sorry, master, p-please let me—” you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your fingers moved faster now making a sloppy sound each time they moved in and out of you.

“How ridiculous… You needed a thousand year old devil telling you how to touch yourself? Pathetic, just like that little boyfriend of yours” the left hand crawled up your chest grabbing and folding your breast, “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name.”

Sukuna’s mouth bit down your nipple with no mercy, and you couldn’t even move your own hand away since now it was under his control, the only thing you did was cry and beg for him to allow you to climax.

“Fine, cum on my mouth like the desperate slut you are” the mouth at your clit sucked harder and, along with the fast movements of your fingers, you felt your whole body flutter with a mind-blowing orgasm.

Sukuna’s mouth kept licking your juices and overstimulating your hole with his tongue until you couldn’t feel anything else anymore. You looked down at your hand only to find that his mouth was no longer there.

“Master?” you asked weakly at the void. Your left palm appeared in front of your face, the mouth smiling at you.

“What? You didn’t think I would have all this fun at once right? I hope you enjoyed this, next time I won’t be so good” and just like that the hand vanished leaving you dumbly staring at your own palm.

part 2 -> Consequences

#sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna smut #chainsaw man x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #csm x reader #aki x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #devil!Sukuna

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likeastarstar · 3 years ago

Text

Proof of Work Ch. 1: The Assignment

masterlist.

You were in an amazing mood. There had never been a more perfect day.

Nine, uninterrupted hours of sleep, the perfect song blasting through your headphones, not a single ounce of traffic on your way to work.

It was truly the perfect day- you had put on your favorite pair of pants in celebration, tight around the ass and loose mid-thigh down. You felt powerful, like an unstoppable, bubble-butted, goddess.

There wasn't a thing that could ruin your day- except the staff meeting you forgot.

You only remembered when you were halfway to your office, headphones ripped off of your head unceremoniously by a tattooed hand. You whipped around, completely offended and ready to cuss someone out. Your harsh expression softened when you spotted Jungkook- yelling at him would be like yelling at a puppy. Or a bunny- he kind of looked like one, now that you thought about it. You didn't bother getting annoyed at him- you knew after three years of being his coworker that Jungkook was just being Jungkook.

"Boss is gonna kill you when she finds out you're late," Jungkook laughed, holding your headphones in his hand, dangling the head strap delicately on a finger. "Also- who still uses fat ass headphones like this? What brand are these?"

He stared at them with peaked interest, putting them on his head. He immediately started bopping his head, eyebrows burrowing while he pursed his lips, wiggling his shoulders to the beat. His black hair flopped around in time with his shoulders like an cartoon character and you wished you could laugh, you really did. Instead, you stared at him blankly, fist tightening around your coffee cup, "Late to what?"

"Huh?" Jungkook yelled, snagging one corner of his lip up in confusion.You groaned, pushing the headphones down onto his shoulders.

"Late to what?" You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

"Oh- project check ins- the meeting started like, twenty minutes ago." He said plainly, nodding his head.

Twenty minutes- twenty minutes.

"Oh, my, God." You said, heavy pause between each word.

How was Jungkook so calm? You were both royally fucked- so incredibly, so deeply, fucked. Your boss hated tardiness, hated anything less than perfect. You admired that about her, appreciated the punctuality in the third-party UI UX field where sometimes, artistry took the place of punctuality.

You loved it a lot- until you were twenty minutes late to a staff meeting you had completely forgot about.

You shoved Jungkook by the shoulder, pushing him aside and started sprinting towards the conference room until you were jolted back by the wire connecting your headphones around Jungkook's neck to the phone in your pocket.

"Ow!" Jungkook shrieked, trailing behind you.

"Hurry up!" You cried, running childishly towards the room. You pushed the glass door open, chest heaving slightly as Jungkook bumped into your back, skidding to a stop.

"-The client is difficult, I know- but surely..."

Your boss trailed off, distracted by your sudden appearance. Her eyebrows lifted and you flinched, ready for an ass whooping to end all ass whooping but instead what happened was worse.

Yeah, this was so much worse.

She smiled. A creepy little serene smile with vacant eyes flickering between you and Jungkook, tilting her head eerily. There was an evil little plan swirling around in her head- you could tell just by looking at her.

"Perfect," She grinned, "Dumb and Dumber can have the account. Glad that's settled."

"What account?" You asked lamely, freezing for a moment when your boss sent you a punishing look. You faltered, bowing immediately in respect, "I mean- thank you."

Your ass hit Jungkook's crotch, a soft groan falling from his lips, forcing him to bow with you. Your coworkers snickered quietly, stifling their laughter only slightly when your boss proclaimed the meeting to be over.

You straightened up while everyone else filtered out, looking around for the possibility of catching a single clue as to what you were meant to be anticipating with this new account.

"Seriously, what account?" You mumbled, eyes wide.

"Oh, you'll see," A coworker mumbled ominously, wiggling past you.

"I'll email you the details- Jungkook, you're out of dress code and I'm writing you up," Your boss said sternly, brushing past the pair of you, still stupidly connected by your headphone wires.

"Aw man," Jungkook whined, throwing his head back helplessly. You eyed his outfit- spotting nothing wrong with it until you realized he had slides on. Who wears slides to work?

You glared at him, wide eyes in disbelief, "You are so, incredibly, stupid."

"Hey, I'm smart enough to warn you about the meeting," He frowned, pulling off the pair of headphones and handing them back to you, "And at least we get to work on this together."

He was right about that.

This wasn't the first time you and Jungkook had been referred to as Dumb and Dumber. The two of you were the same age and got the same internship one summer, spending half an hour confused about the commercial printer on the third floor. Two years later and no one had let the sight of Jungkook and you covered in toner ink go, coining the annoying little nickname even after the pair of you had become salaried web designers.

You liked Jungkook, you really did- but he was too dependent on his natural artistic ability instead of the coding and he couldn't be more different than you. You weren't as good of a designer as him but it didn't make sense to you how he seemed to be able to come up with the most amazing interface designs and then fuck it all up in the end by forgetting to code half of the aspects he wanted.

It was infuriating, watching him waste his vision on stupid mistakes that seemed so perfectly avoidable to you and now he was your partner on an account you had no details about.

"Can we just go back to our desks, I gotta check out these account details," You mumbled, any sign of your good mood evaporated.

Even your desks were comically juxtaposed. Your company had a thing for community, the bulk of the designers sharing one large office space with huge desks shoved together like some sort of medieval gathering. Because you were hired on at the same time, Jungkook's desk space was diagonal from yours and was organized to a tee.

There wasn't a thing out of place, although there wasn't much to place in the first place. Just a large black desktop monitor and matching accessories. Simple, bare- empty.

Meanwhile, your setup was covered in pastels and pretty little things. You had notes everywhere, print outs of previous project mock ups and guidelines. A tiny cat figurine held up your ipad, lit with a million to do reminders and nagging deadlines, and there were at least three empty coffee cups littering your space at all times.

You had to refresh your inbox four times before you got the email.

You clicked on the brief, a sinking feeling in your gut. You eyed the name of the client, uttering the surname over and over underneath your breath.

"Where have I heard that name?" You whispered, frowning to yourself.

"On the news- they just filed for bankruptcy last week," Jungkook groaned from his desk, head falling into his hands.

The pit in your stomach sunk even further, scanning over the entire email once more.

"They want us to reboot their entire carbon fucking footprint," You gasped, realizing how large of a project this was.

"How can they afford this?" Jungkook frowned, staring at his own screen.

You barely processed the question- a ringing in your ear getting deafeningly loud. A project like this would take months- months of long nights, hard work, and migraines all for a company who already had one foot in the grave. Not to mention- months of being attached at the hip to Jungkook.

Wild, unpredictable, annoyingly sleepy Jungkook who cared more about what he was going to eat for lunch than what the rest of the office thought about him. You watched any chance you had at shedding the Dumb and Dumber tag line disintegrate in your mind, head already pounding at the thought.

No, no, no, no, no-

"Hey," Jungkook snapped, catching your attention, "Stop freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," You lied, shaking your head vigorously.

"Yes, you are," He insisted, "You're like- green. If you throw up now everyone's gonna stop calling you dumber and start calling you pukey."

"I'm not dumber, you are," You grumbled, flattening your head on your desk and silently hoping an asteroid would hit the Earth at this exact moment.

Jungkook didn't say anything back to you and you assumed he had chosen to ignore your theatrics until ten minutes later when you felt a hand at your shoulder. You sat up slowly, pouting childishly. Jungkook stood above you, turning your chair to face him better as he thrust a cup of coffee out towards you, "Drink this, remember to breathe, and relax."

You stared at the coffee a beat too long before taking it, freezing when Jungkook rubbed his thumb against your forehead, smoothing out the red spot caused by the hard surface of your desk with an amused smile on his face, "You're not alone, you have me. We can do this, together- right?"

"This is a disaster," You seethed.

"But imagine if we pull this off- come on," He urged, rubbing out the frown lines on your face. Why was he so comfortable touching you? "With your anal retentive personality and my creative genius- just think of what we can do. Think about how impressive it'll be, think about the raise you'll get."

"People will stop calling me dumb," You mumbled vacantly, deliberately choosing to ignore Jungkook calling you anal retentive.

"How is that better than a raise?" Jungkook snorted, "Whatever- we got this, right?"

"R-Right," You mumbled.

"Maybe this can be like our redemption arc, yeah?" He joked, ruffling your hair under the palm of his hand.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly. He looked entirely too confident, beaming down at you brightly. Maybe he did hypnosis as a side gig because suddenly you found yourself completely convinced.

Maybe this would work. Maybe you could do this- together.

#bts fic #bts drabble #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook crack #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts blurbs #bts crack fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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drakenology · 4 years ago

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www.pornscape.com/janitors-closet-kirishima

janitor’s closet - kirishima x reader

categories: cunnilingus, blow job, riding, exhibitionism, slight degradation, unprotected sex, cussing, cervix kissin’, nasty hook up in the janitor’s closet.

author’s note: welcome to the pornscape! i hope you guys enjoy this event and this piece as well. please check out the others who have participated and as always, cum again ;). read the other works here

Hanamura Corp; a place known for legitimate business. Every employee including yourself was very capable of their job and it was wonderful to be a part of. But God was it fucking boring. Everyone there just ignored each other, did their job and clocked out once their shift was done and over with. With the exception of a few women you’d talk to around break time, The entire building was often so quiet you forgot other people worked there.

One thing that made your job a little bit exciting was the escapades that took place every Wednesday in the janitor’s closet. The janitor who worked mostly Wednesdays was quite possibly the most gorgeous man to walk those halls.

Ejiro Kirishima; a sweetheart who worked as a janitor here at Hanamura Corp for a few years now. What he was doing working as a janitor and as not a male model was a mystery.

He was tall; 6′11 to be exact, with long red hair he often had tied back in a messy bun, strands of his hair cheekily escaping from the sides. Not to mention his body. Eijiro was an absolute beast of a man; his entire body was ripped. His arms were gigantic and covered in tattoos. The women of the facility often gossiped about the ginormous janitor who came by their cubicles with a warm smile and a tip of his cap.

“God, he’s so sexy. I’d like to just jump his fucking bones.”

“I wonder what he’s like in bed. Probably an insatiable beast.”

“I just know his dick is huge. Fuck, I can only imagine.”

She guessed right. His dick is huge. How do you know that? Because you’re the one fucking him in the Janitor’s closet every so often. Every Wednesday when he worked, he’d walk past your cubicle and tap you on the shoulder. You’d turn and practically drool at the sight of him, knowing that in a few hours you’d be getting railed until you can hardly walk back to your desk. How this became so routine? Hell, you’ve long since forgotten. But who gives a fuck about the details?

“See you at noon?” He’d whisper in your ear, chuckling when you nod meekly. 12 o’clock was the time everyone usually took their lunch break which had proven to be the perfect time to get fucked on the job.

Once the clock struck 12, you slide your panties off under your desk and tuck them in your briefcase, a rule set by Kirishima to ensure that your cunt is exposed and ready for his filling. You walk towards the janitor’s closet; the one next to the women’s room and stand there to wait, awkwardly waving at the women who came out of the restroom with a weird stare. Suddenly the door opens and someone pulls you inside.

Finally. He kissed you hard, his big stern hands grabbing and caressing your ass as if he owned you and everything attached to you. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist when he lifts you and pins you against the cold steel supply shelf. “Miss me, gorgeous?” Kirishima asks, his lips ghosting over yours as he hikes your skirt up over your ass, biting his lip when he feels you’re completely bare underneath.

“You’re such a little slut for me, taking your panties off to come and get fucked in the janitor’s closet.” He starts kissing your neck, nibbling slightly to mark you just a little; he can’t help himself.

You’re already getting so hot, your slick pooling at his fingertips as they run along your folds. He stands you on your feet and turns you around, getting down on his knees to worship your ass. His hands slap each cheek firmly, causing you to flinch and lean into the wall, ass sticking out for him.

Before you can speak, his hands spread your ass apart, spitting onto your pussy. His tongue starts lapping up your slick folds as his hands squeeze your ass, your nails digging into your palms as you groan into your sleeves. You’re mewling so much you could swear someone could hear you, Kirishima’s thick fingers now sliding inside you while he stands on his feet.

“Gotta get that tight cunt ready for me, baby. You like that?” He huffs into your hair, pumping his fingers inside you at a slow pace. You nod as you back your hips into his hand, Kirishima grabbing one hip to keep you still.

“So eager. Stay still would, ya?” Kirishima taunts, speeding up his fingers as he smacked you ass to scold you. You yelp, the sting from the hit fading into blinding pleasure as he fingered you, your cunt squelching and making obscene noises as you feel your legs turn to pudding.

“Kiri I c-can’t, you’re gonna make me c-cum!” You whine, chewing on your bottom lip.

“That’s the idea. Mm, cum all over my fucking fingers.” He urged, his fingers diving deeper into your greedy walls, your cunt sucking him inside as you cum with a hard clench. Kirishima smirked and pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them into his mouth with a moan at your flavor.

“Good fuckin’ girl. On your knees.” He demands, pointing towards the floor. You obliged, moaning when you see him take his cock out of his uniform pants. Good lord, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing it in all its glory.

He was impossibly thick and long, prominent veins running along the shaft and a perfectly soft and spongey head; the one that kissed your cervix with every thrust. You open your mouth for him, tongue lolling out as he sticks his cock inside. Your lips wrap around him, moaning at the taste of his skin as you bob your head. Kirishima takes a fistful of your hair and fucks your throat, hissing when you gag and drool all over his cock. Your hands start grabbing at your breasts, unbuttoning your top to pull them outside of your bra.

“God, look at you..” Kirishima groans, you giggling when he pulls you off his cock with a lewd “pop” sound. “Such a dirty girl.” Kirishima takes his thick cock and slaps it against your wet lips, pressing between them to get your mouth open again. Sucking him off got you so wet; the sounds of slurping and gagging. All of his dirty words laced with pleasurable grunts stirred your insides as your cunt ached with need.

Every time his cock hit the back of your throat you moan, reaching your hand down to help relieve the ache in your core.

“Shit..” Eijiro moans at the state of you, a usually prim and proper business woman on her knees for him looking so fucking sloppy.

It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, taking his hand to pinch and play with your nipples as you suckle on his dick head, taking it and slapping it against your tongue with a love struck look in your eye.

He burned that image of you in his mind, wanting to revisit this moment later when he was alone while bucking his hips to get you to wrap those soft lips around his cock again. Your fingers rub lazy circles on your swollen clit, moaning around his dick as he fucked your mouth.

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He hissed, pulling his cock from your lips and sitting on his haunches.

“C’mere.” He demands, slapping his thighs to get you to sit in his lap. You straddle his waist, his length resting on your slick cunt. He grinds your hips against his, the under side of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit with a groan. Kirishima lowers his hand and gives you the filling you’ve been craving all week, pressing his length against your weeping hole and pulling your hips down onto his length.

The dull stretch caused you to grab onto his shoulders and hold tight, bouncing on his cock slowly to adjust to his monster of a cock. It was all so delicious; Kiri running his thumb along your swollen bud with a satisfied grunt.

“Fuck, I’m cumming already, Eiji- shit!” You wail, breathy moans leaving your lips as he ruts his hips upwards, one of his big hands grabbing at your breast, the other rubbing your clit in soft circles.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby..” He groans, rolling your hips into his as his hands run along your soft ass, striking it harshly. You’re drooling into his shoulder, holding onto the shelf that contained cleaning supplies for good measure, trying to keep up with his movements. With all the shaking, all the cleaning products started toppling over, loud clangs of the metal shelf echoing through the small closet to mask your loud moans.

You both let out breathy half giggles, melting into each other’s bodies as Kirishima reached up to wrap your hair around his hand to yank it, attacking your now exposed neck with hot kisses and nibbles. He stands on his feet, fingers pressed into your ass to keep a tight grip on you as he lowered you onto his cock. You see stars as Eijiro picks you up and drops you onto his thick cock, scrambled sentences leaving your mouth as your mouth hangs open in bliss.

Kirishima kicks over a bucket, the stupid thing in his path as he pressed your bare back against the cold concrete wall. He rolls his hip into yours, lips wrapped around one of your nipples, nibbling lightly. Grunting and high pitched whines fill the closet, your bodies practically sticking together from the heat you both omitted. Tongues intertwined with each other, hands traveling along naked skin as he hit your g-spot over and over again in a blind rage.

“F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum for you, baby.” you squeal, toes curling so hard you feel a cramp coming on; Kirishima bucking into with more fervor as you both reach a climax.

“’M gonna cum inside you. Gonna make you my fuckin’ cum dump.” He huffed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with every hit against your cervix.

You both grunt; Kirishima painting your insides white as he rests you both onto the floor, grinding his hips a few more times before pulling out his flaccid form. Your back laid flat on the cold floor, looking up at him with clouded eyes from all the tears you shed from your encounter. Sex with Kirishima made working at this stuffy place so much more worth it. As he looked down at you he helped fix your clothes, the timer on his watch beeping to signal it was time to get back to work.

“Ya know, we don’t have to wait to see each other once a week. I could fuck you like this every day, every night...” Eijiro said, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“Are you asking me out?” You tease, sitting up to button up your shirt.

“Depends.. are you saying yes?” He asks, raising his eyebrow as he adjusts his pants.

“Maybe.”

#bnha smut #bnha kirishima #kirishima smut #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha kirishima smut #bnha kirishima x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha izuku #bnha izuku smut #the pornscape 💗

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ficsnroses · 4 years ago

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—𝑨𝒏 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑬𝒙𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆. 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓—

summary : you sell your virginity to John Wick.

warnings : smut, consensual sex. oral sex. x f! reader. 5.5k.

notes : hope ya like it! I’m hoping to actually maybe make a part two. I think it would be nice to explore how this turns out for them. please leave feedback! I’m a little nervous about this one, feedback would be so so appreciated. enjoy! xx

John Wick is a man of focus; little diversions that fray from his work were often absent of his mind. It’s been years since his semblance of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel had gave out on him, and he’d been dragged back into the world of gruesome sin for good.

Bound, serving under the table. A life liberate of vice was something John had stopped dreaming of long ago.

Work had been all that engrossed John, absorbed each inch of energy his battered bones could muster up for far too long. To be working, meant to be seldom alone. Being alone, translated to being unaccompanied, with himself. Listening to the weary, dark loomed thoughts that crawled in the crevices of his mind.

A crisp pour of amber bourbon sloshes into the clear crystal glass; a lone cube of sparkler ice accompanies the liquor John would soon shoot. Something that burns, something that might ease the part of him that thinks, ponders, wonders if this was alright.

Is what he’s doing, really, alright?

He stands, leaning on the high raised counter of the bar equipped in his hotel room. The crème walls of the Continental held many secrets, secured home to the worst of folk he’d had the ill-fate of dwelling among.

The men in here were awful. Cold, indifferent, chilled blood coursing wicked veins; John knew well of the evil that rummages within the corridors of this so called, safe haven.

Anyone else would destroy her.

Could ruin her.

John wouldn’t do that. Something separates John from the bulk of the crowds, something that differs him from the norm. John would on no occasion hurt an innocent being. John wouldn’t rip her to shreds. John would treat her as human; something people often forgot that John too, is.

Temporary relief, relaxation, substance; he’d vexed them all. Often, after a job well complete, he’d find himself in dire need of long repose; a minute to rest his somnolent composure. A moment to recharge, before he’d be forced to do it all over. Human contact, connection, was something he’d scarcely recalled.

A Bourbon would often have to do, the familiar scald down the cascade of his throat the only comfort he’d been accustomed to as of late. Yet recent, he’d been craving more. He’d been yearning for something more; something physical to satiate relief.

A heavy inhale floods his lungs, a lone hand held to his drink as his other toys with the collar of his brittle white dress shirt. Her eyes stayed on him, drinking in each of his features, desperate to understand how he’d be. John Wick is a man of few words, a stoic nature barely illuminating enough light to read.

He turns, the crystal glass set down on the hotel room table as he turns to her, on his bed, her legs crossed closed, silent. Like a lover, the silk of her short black dress seduces each curve of her devourable body, thin straps kissed to her satin shoulders, her silken skin gleaming under the hotel room lights. His voice is deep, ravishingly rich, throaty with gruff as it protrudes her ears. “You’ve never done this before?” He confirms, walking closer to her delicate frame, watching her equally unreadable expression.

When he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d found himself unable to look away. Captivatingly beautiful, enough to make any man week in his knees. John wasn’t one to fantasize, to want a woman, let alone offer a second look.

Yet seeing her, he’d downed in the enchant of her beautiful features; and the best part of all,

She was selling. She’d been looking to give herself to the highest bidder.

John Wick had found himself at the right place, at the right time. An impulsive buy, one might say. But he couldn’t leave her. Not only did his body yearn for someone, something to channel his deep need into, he also knew. She was far too precious, pure; whatever circumstances had brought her to do such a thing, he wouldn’t ask.

He’d buy her. And he’d use her service.

He needed it. Sex hungry, his body longs for someone real to take care of him.

Her eyes are soft, lips stained a rosy shade of mauve as she makes direct eye contact. Blushy cheeks, soft, shining hair flutters gentle in free air as she shakes her head ‘no’.

She’d never been with anyone before. She was pure. Untouched.

With a down of the final few drops of drink in his glass, John’s shirt unbuttons, peeled off his torso in a swift motion, revealing beautifully toned, bulked muscles; rosy skin, a broad back, tattooed with bold ink on display. John must have been 20 years her senior, yet his shape proved peak. Firm biceps, defined torso, beautifully groomed, lengthy chocolate locks only adding to his splendour.

She’d expected to be bought by some middle aged, unattractive man looking to be with anyone other than his wife. John was far from that. She didn’t know if he’d seen seeing anyone else, if he was married, taken.

Not that it was any of her business.

She watches his hands move to fondle a heavy worn belt, working the buckle as it comes off his dark slacks.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do.”

John’s rich voice surges through her ears, his question falling his thin taut lips as more of a statement, an establishment of boundaries.

She didn’t think she’d get that choice. She’d expected to be used however her buyer pleased.

With a gentle clear of throat, she nods her head no, gazing out the window of the high story hotel suite. Busy New York city life buzzes below, the nightlife pulsing through the city heart. Endless opportunity. Endless chance.

John’s belt thuds to the marble floor with a heavy clink, his body inching closer, hand dangerously close to her feeble frame as he asks, the question sending shivers down her spine. “Can I undress you?”

The question came with surprise. Part of her thanked the universe for delivering her to John, of all men. He’d been hard to read, reserved, but he hadn’t done what she’d prepared herself for immense. Although she knew, her body was merely a vessel for him to use, to get what he wanted, he hadn’t treated her as such. Hadn’t treated her as she’d gave up her right to respect when she’d bartered her purity.

When Y/N nodded, John moves in closer, placing his dense frame beside hers as he begins, unravelling her as if a present. Yearning, wondering of what held underneath the rippling drapes of the sleek fabric, his eyes gloss over her skin, thick fingers removing the straps of her dress, before reaching behind her to unzip the seams of her wear. Diminishing to her mid, her modesty falls perfectly plump on her chest, embellished in expensive lace. The swell of her chest leaves him feel the weight in his pants to harden, the sight of her cleavage, pursing together with hardened nipples. Unclasping the dainty hooks that shield her breasts from his prying gaze, John allows the thin textile to fall off, exposing her beautiful femininity; her breathtaking curves, soft, supple skin tender to the touch. His hands can’t seem to resist, callous palms moving in to roam the exquisiteness, thumbs swirling her tender nipples as he sighs, drinking her in.

“Stand up.” John’s voice demands, his own form staying placed at the foot of the bed as he instructs. Doing as told, she feels his warm hands tug at the seams of her dress, allowing the fabric to pool at her feet, leaving behind nothing but her lacy underwear covering what no one had indulged in before. Paired with pencil black heels, John takes a moment to devour the look of her stood in front of him; bare, voluptuous, almost entirely nude, causing a tent to rise in his pants. Without time to waste, his fingers intrude the skimpy cloth, gentle peeling her panties down, revealing all of her, solely, exclusively for his taking.

Had this not been an exchange where John owned her, he might have just fell prisoner to her mercy. Y/N was a beauty he’d never seen, mirroring a sex siren in her own right. The dips and curves of her frame mesmerise him, a gulp swallowed down his tight throat, a hefty palm unknowingly moving to palm his swollen cock through the fabric of his slacks. She bites her lip, vulnerable, never have being shown to anyone this way before.

John was the first to see her in all her glory, she finds herself moving shy hands to cover her form, nervous to the way he scans each inch of her body, as if memorizing it, keeping the sight locked away, stored within his gaze forever. “Gorgeous…” John’s voice whispers a gruff, two of his sturdy fingers moving to slick through her folds, palming her pussy as shivers tingle down her spine. She’d been trying her best to stay calm, to allow John to do as he pleased.

Right now, in this moment, her body rightfully belonged to him. He was permitted to do whatever he sought.

“I want you on your knees.” John explains firmly, connecting his bold gaze to hers and she nods, falling in front of his form sat on the silky sheets. Without a moment to waste, his hands trail down his zipper, throwing the expensively stitched slacks off his thighs to the floor, left in nothing but a pair of thin boxers. In a swift moment, his stocky fingers dip into the opening, allowing a hardened shaft to fall out in his grip, full, bursting balls to accompany.

She’d seen a man’s cock before; but John, John’s member was a sight to be seen. She swallows, intrigued by the grandeur, the rosy tip swollen, the thick veins that run up his length, a slight curve to its form. He offers himself a few measly tugs, dark eyes connecting to hers once again. “Do you want a safe word?”

A safe word. Perhaps if a word; a small, paltry word could save her from nonetheless being in this situation, she would have used it.

“No.” Her voice falls quiet, eyes diverted to the crème marble below. “If its too much, I’ll tell.” In the dim light of the room, a channel glow casts to her exposed skin; velvet and soft, making the plump of her mauve stained lips rouse John’s needy cock in desperate anticipation.

Without hesitation, John’s lust falls deeper, his throat tight, breath heavy.

Being with a woman, was something John felt had last happened centuries ago. Seeing her, stripped, uncovered, on her knees, keenly awaiting to be wrapped around his length; a fire burns in his belly. A hunger that rumbles across the surface, desperately ready to chase sweet, sweet relief, from her.

“Here,” John encourages, taking hold of his base with a loose grip. With his spare palm, his fingers thread into the locks of her hair, gently pulling her mouth closer. Slowly, firmly, his palm glides over the bottom of his shaft, beads of glossy pre cum quivering out the pink tip as he speaks. “Put those pretty lips on me.” Obliging, she nods, positioned between John’s thighs, nervous to the core.

She’d seen videos, heard people talk. But she’d never taken a man into her mouth before.

John would be the first, to feel her in every sinning way he pleased.

“Fuck,” John sighs through gritted teeth, feeling the warm haven of her lips circle around the thickness of his tip. Tightening on her tresses, his hand falls from his base, cupping hers in a gentle hold, before guiding it to replace his own. “Use your hands on what you can’t fit.” He instructs, walnut eyes darker, yet held with a certain sympathy.

A tenderness; mortality. “Move, baby.” John manages, eyes fluttering shut as his senses indulge, the feel of her tongue gently, kindly swirling his shaft take over. Gradually, his hand, laced within the locks of her hair guides her further down the bulk of his cock, forcing her to take a little more with each eager bob.

“Hallow your cheeks, darling.” John watches her intent, in awe with the way she learns so quick. “Eyes on me,” Practically sputtering into a pool of bliss, John’s deep baritoned words sear through her veins.

“Tighter.

Deeper.”

Drawn into his, her eyes pierce into his own earthy orbs, unknown to the throb of arousal growing in her core; John bought her for the evening. Was it sick of her to be…fascinated by him?

His room is simple. A suit jacket rests to the arm chair on the right, a barely touched bar of liquor to accompany. Little of him can be told from the depths of this room, perhaps he wasn’t here too often.

The folk of the Continental were scarce when not at work, leaving little trace of who they really were behind. She’d heard whispers of a man they called John Wick, she hadn’t been entirely unfamiliar to the dread he’d upheld within the sanctioned walls. Wick was a name that held fear to the tips of even the worst of sinner’s tongues; yet she finds herself far from. She wasn’t fearful of John Wick. She wasn’t scared of what he’d do.

As John urges her further, a choked gap emits her throat, eyes filling with a char of hot tears with his cock still shoved inside her mouth. Collecting herself, she keeps him inside, albeit, allowing some of him to fall out. “You’re alright.” John soothes, wiping escaped tears with his callous thumb. “You’re doing well.” With a nod, her movements commence, eager to find her pace again, free hands massaging his thick balls and veiny shaft that couldn’t accommodate in her mouth.

The sound of hallow gags and a mouth full of cock echo the room, throaty slickness and gasp for breath, John harshly praising her with a guide of pace. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.” A firm hand follows suit to her bare breast, palming, kneading the fleshy skin as her mouth words wonders on his sensitive skin. Without much notice, John’s eager hips buck impatiently into her mouth, so nonchalantly, a test of waters if you may.

If he had it his way, he would fuck her tiny mouth senselessly right then and there. Have her throat bruising, aching for days in his aftermath.

But John Wick isn’t a monster. John isn’t selfish.

Each time she comes down, slowly, cautiously, his swollen tip hits the back of her throat, threatening to venture further with each throb John’s bulge radiates inside. With his hips thrusting into her mouth lightly, John’s jaw tightens, goosebumps peppering his ink adorned skin. With his pace fastening, his primal desires barely cease; barely offer mercy when he pulls her head closer, wrapping his palms firmly to her head as he moves her head on his cock hastier, stiff, needier, causing srteams of sweltering tears to flow her soft cheeks as she tries her best to hold in her gags. Dangerously close to release, her head yankers back in John’s grip; strings of saliva webbing off her lips, connected to his tender shaft, allowing the bulk of his member to fall out, still erect to an intimidatingly large size.

He could have done with just her sinfully tight mouth; yet he wouldn’t. Tonight, he’d cum inside her. Tonight, he’d have something other than the lonesome grip of his sloppy hand for company; to extinguish that rummaging burn.

With a rise off the bed, John offers her a larger hand, eyes interlocked as she accepts, rising off the ground. His gravelly voice is low, Y/N’s unchecked tears and swollen lips leaving her a beautiful mess as John’s inquisitive gaze washes over her. What comes next, causes her breath to hitch; her insides searing, arousal growing wetter by the second.

With his rock hard cock digging into the skin of her stomach, she finds her self locked lips with John, who’s taken her in a sweet kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. The kiss personifies appetite, thirst, all things John craved in the moment. With his hand taking hers, deliberate movements guide her to the tall side of the bed, silky sheets and cotton pillows awaiting her arrival. His skin smells of cologne, something expensive, something sauvage. The taste of his heavy liquored tongue meddles with hers before letting go, lustful eyes encouraging her to lay down in the ripple of sheets. With his cock firm in his hand, he continues to offer himself a couple of strokes, a spare hand intruding into the hard oak nightstand to the side.

“Are you taking anything?” His voice flows through the room, heavy, shallow, adding clarification when her brows furrow. “For protection.”

Fiddling with her growing nervous fingers, she tenses, suddenly urged with the realization of what would come next. This was happening.

This was

really

happening.

John was going to fuck her. John, soon, would take that piece of her. This beautiful stranger, mysterious, yet intriguing, would make a part of her belong to him

forever.

“No sir.” She answers, eyes downcast, unsure of where to look as he preps himself. Fishing out a condom from the side drawer, the silver lining falls discarded somewhere on the marble floor along with the shambles of their clothes, mindlessly placed. “Lay down.” John tells, dimming the lights further, the curtains closed shut as night falls over the shadowy New York city horizon. She does as told, awaiting his body to accompany.

Her eyes find his back once again, watching delicate, cryptic ink that coats his broad skin in curiosity. A seemingly cross centers in the middle, an arrangement of words unknown to her cognizance bedecked along. As he finds himself crawling a top her sprawled figure, his hands guide her legs open further, hand palming her mound as she bites her lip. Slow, steady, he guides in the stock of two fingers, sensually slow, preparing her pretty cunt for his taking.

Coated with her silky arousal, his fingers gleam, a creamy mixture of her gloss glazed over his hand. Punctuated by her tender, soft, barely audible whimpers, a light chuckle emits John’s throat. “You don’t have to stay quiet.” He clears, fingers pumping slightly faster now, expertly judging her expressions. “Ever done this before?”

Y/N was a virgin; but no saint by any means. She’d touched herself before, even brought herself to orgasm on occasion. With a shy nod, she answers, punctuated by her own barely held together, soft moans to the feel of John’s much thicker fingers pulsing in and out of her. With the pad of his thumb, he works her clit, his hand arranging a beautiful symphony begging to fall off her lips.

The feel of John’s touch was nothing like her own, paired with the weight of his body on hers. As if habitually, her back arches, her toes curl, a whimper secreted when he draws his fingers out. With his heavy cock in hand, John lines himself up with her entrance, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside; to feel what she had to offer. With his enlarged tip rubbing over her clit, his voice registers barely in her ears, lost in the feel of him on her.

“Tell me to stop.” His gravelly voice reminds, assertion heavy on his tongue.

John was proving awfully hard to read. She appreciates the respect; the boundaries he was willing to set for her. She’d sworn, she could see a light of humility in him, contrasted, laced with dark need. If he wanted, she knew he could ruin her.

Without much warning, she feels his tip impend into her walls, sinking slow, stretched by his weight, her eyes widening noticeably when John’s girth pushes into her, cock widening her immensely.

She knew John’s member would be far larger than the feel of anything she’d felt before; yet perhaps she’d underestimated just how much larger it would feel. Plunging in further, a tight moan escapes John’s lips, drowning in further, slower, steadier, until he’s reached her end. Hissing at her tightness, he feels her clench around him, a breathy gasp of her own fleeing, nails sinking into the sheets in a fitted clasp.

Had the circumstances been different, he’d have asked her to hold onto him instead; maybe even let her burry her face in his neck as he works her body whole.

But that wasn’t what this was. This was merely an exchange. An agreement for him to get exactly what he needed;

mind blowing sex.

All John needed right now, was a rough, and good fuck to hold him over.

He stays still for a moment, feeling her cunt pulse around him, and her eyes shut tight, breathing measured as she relishes in the feel of him full, nestled inside her wet haven, before placing both sturdy hands on her hips in a strong hold. Rapt with desire, John’s primal instincts kick in, the feel of her welcoming pussy so perfectly mould to his cock; he’d sworn or a moment that she was perfectly, exclusively crafted just for him to fuck. With his hips picking up pace, John sucks in a sharp breath, a groan of pleasure to the way her heavenly walls tighten around him, tight, blissfully gratifying.

She can’t help but gasp, searing tears returning once again to the ungodly stretch. John burns inside, allowing her minimal time to adjust. His hips buck into hers, gradually picking up pace as he thrust deeper, harder, conjuring up an almost selfish pace.

She’d never felt anything like this before. The pain, the pleasure. The sinful pleasure of him practically splitting her inch by inch. His cock glides in and out her constricted entrance, and she practically whimpers; unsure of whether the moans signified pain, or immense pleasure.

It hurt, but in the best ways possible. His aggressive roll of hips only quickens, faster and faster until Y/N’s moans caged no more. Her lips longed to moan his name, scarcely able to keep her eyes open to see the way he pants above her figure.

With her breasts bouncing vigorously to his pace, John’s want only cultivates further. Watching his cock glide in and out of her sends him in a frenzy, the way she violently jerks with each movement, the sound of his balls smacking against her sweltering core give life to a filthy symphony of her stifled yelps and moans, blended religiously with his growls and throaty gruffs.

His eyes roll shut and he bites his lip, the sounds of her wetness bobbing him fill the room to his violent labour of hips, each time he sinks in and out. His cock glistens with her honeyed dew, her hand reverting over her mouth to confine a loud moan threatening to surface. Whimpering, she bites her arm in complete ecstasy, the feel of John throbbing, completely filling her whole becoming much.

John had been practically pounding her, minutes in. The feeling of having someone to spend the night with, left him far more aroused than he’d initially planned. Her legs tremble, gazing down to observe the way his load exits her cunt fully before slamming back in repeatedly, over, and over, and over, erratic imperative. With every nerve in her body threatening to snap, she relishes a moment to feel John inside.

John’s thickness is something she doesn’t think she’ll be able to forget. Each nerve, each throbbing vein, that curve of his shaft she witnessed earlier; his thrusts become urgent, cock twitching within, grinding vigorously to her g spot as his breathe lays hot, close to her skin. Ridged and rough, his fingers threaten to leave purple bruises peppering into her hips, his hold of her body immensely stiff, as if fearful of her disappearing. The bed below creeks, headboard assaulting the walls with profound hits to his demanding haste; she’s already sore from his massive size, and he hasn’t even finished yet.

“Fuck...you feel,” John’s deep voice, sultry and stiff surges her ears, rich as butter. “You feel fucking amazing, tighten up for me, darling.” He instructs, wanting to feel her milk his cock. She follows as told, squeezing her walls around him, squirming, wailing underneath his form. He pushes as much of himself in as possible and she screams, feeling a cocktail of their fusing released drip down her thighs. John looks delectable this way; beads of exertion peppered to his forehead, muscled skin sticking to hers, the smell of sex prominent around them as he continues pumping her relentlessly, senselessly. To a particularly rough thrust, her toes curl, arms coming around his shoulders to hold on dearly, tightly as he continues his rummage into her body. She holds tight, fingernails digging into his skin as grunts and ear-splitting moans intrude the atmosphere.

John is fucking her so well, so intense, that tears fall still, the raunchy sounds of skin slapping skin, enticing whispers of praise off his lips for her body only pushing her further. John feels his release close, lost in the tender haven she’d given him to spoil in, and he shudders; shivering, buried deep, deep inside her, the sounds of her wetness slicking his member echoing the walls. Within a few particularly lewd, unaltered thrusts, she screams his name, gasping, holding onto his biceps lifelessly as he quickens his pace, his own release not far behind.

He slams, harder, and harder, channeling an animalistic pace to her core, a rhythm of lust drunk pleasure imploring each inch of his body as he still deep, deep inside her pussy, spurting thick streams of sticky, glossing white cum into the dainty condom he’d worn. He stills for a moment, neither of them speaking; heaving sighs and rapid breaths as they come down from their highs, her limbs still securely wrapped around his frame. A joint euphoria; a paradise they’d created together. A creamy mixture of their releases drips to the satin sheets below, although John ceases to care.

Right now, in this moment, he finds himself truly, wholly

relieved.

He’d gone so long, so distant without sex. Without human touch, connection. With his cock still sheathed inside her warm harbour, he sighs, relishing even in the feel of her holding him.

And a moment passes, then another; and another. With his weight rested on shaky palms to the bed sheets on either side of her, John sighs, panting, watching the way she swallows a lump in her throat; beads of vapour dotted to her glistening skin.

Gorgeous, he thinks.

She’s got those pretty eyes, satin skin. She felt surreal. He’d seen the stars buried inside her.

Slow and steady, John moves, allowing his flaccid member to slip out her warm hold. The sun has fully set, and the moonlight barely filters in through the slits of opaque curtains. With a towel retrieved, one he’d set aside prior to their session beside the bedframe, he finds place back, next to her worn out frame.

John had fucked her so good, so hard, she’d worn her legs may just give out in any attempt of rising on her feet. Relishing, sunken into the mattress as she watches him move calm, collected, the feel of John cleaning what he’s left behind off her womanhood causes the softest of blush to intrude, peppering her skin. With the condom discard, John’s hoarse voice rasps, breaking the still of long endured silence. “You’re alright?” He probes, watching the way she sits up on the bed, the threads of the duvet he’d spent countless nights burrowed in alone fixed in her grip, pulling it over her bare breasts, covering herself from his chocolate gaze.

She’s shyer now than before, after sex bliss stippled over her skin, her pussy sore from the action. The emptiness John had left ached. She’d be reminded of the mysterious man with painted skin for days;

prompted by what story his back really told.

What intrigued her so much, about the man who’d taken her in the filthiest of ways.

“Did I hurt you?” He inquires, and she’d sworn the way he looks at her…the way his eyes glaze over her features, as if watching so intently her every move, a symphony flows inside her, coursing that acquainted boil in her stomach. Nodding her head, no, she watches him pull on a pair of long forgotten boxers, opting himself a seat to the edge of the bed as she stays put. Despite having just had had sex with him, she finds herself nervous to be exposed to his eyes again; a dire side effect of the toll his handsomeness had truly taken on her.

She finds herself, tense. Intimidated by his grandeur.

A story writes itself, a tale that brews in the depth of their minds. Racing a mile a minute, he’d known. And perhaps she had too; that the sex had been far too good.

Dangerously good.

The words brew on the tip of his tongue, yet he finds himself cautious of their release. Would he be awful for thinking these thoughts? Was he soiling her, tainting her for his selfish needs, thinking of the dirtiest fate he could try her; propose to her before she’d be gone.

A fuck this good doesn’t come easy, and John wasn’t looking for romance. Love was something he’d forgotten a long time ago, wasn’t sure he’d been worthy of such a thing.

;yet he’d found her. Someone who could take care of his physical needs; someone he could use for that intimacy he too, direly needed. Had lacked for years, finally tasting it, within her.

The way she felt was something John would find himself struggling to forget. The warm, wet, deliciously slick feel of her welcoming cunt; John hadn’t had someone as good as her. She’d ruined it for him. Nothing had compared. No one had taken care of his cock the way she’d done in a meagre 30 minutes.

He’d request. He’d propose. He’d bargain her an even exchange.

With a gruff crisp in his throat, his guttural voice catches her by surprise. Under the duvet, her naked skin flushes to a warm, temperate ease. Fulfilled, relaxed, riding high on sex satisfied clouds, tingles still felt within each snapping nerve of her skin. His tone is calm, collected; upheld with dominance.

She delighted in his dominance. “I want to offer you.” He begins, a hand placed on his bare thigh. “A contract. For your services.”

Services. Bold of him to assume, this was something she’d planned on doing for more men. “An offer…?” Her tongue seeps, the words a quiet, barrel mumble to his proposition. In the barely lit room, her inquisitive eyes glow; a familiar glow to the way they’d shone, glossy. When his cock had been rammed deep down her tight throat.

“A contract.” He repeats, professionally. “I want you. Again.” His tone finds a quiver building within her core, her thighs longing to be wrapped around his waist, the way they dripped control, power. “I’ll pay you, generously.” He nods, eyebrows raised, a gaze to her smaller body buried in his sheets. “But when I need you, you come. No questions, no excuses.” He adds, studying her form, the way her brows furrow, lost in the aftermath of his words.

“You’ll be mine to use. For the duration of the contract.”

His. She could be

his.

Racing a mile, a minute, her thoughts haze, the rush of adrenaline, the weight of his proposition thick in a fog on her brain. Her senses tense, her thoughts freeze. The sight of him catches her lost.

His. To belong to the man, with the muscled back and bold tinted ink. The man who’d fucked her pornographically. Her cluster of deliberations interrupts with his thick voice, velvety, rich. “I’ll let you sit on it.” He offers, standing, the crisp white dress shirt he’d peeled off his frame earlier back in his sturdy grip as he drapes it on. “I need to take care of some business with the manager. I’ll be back within the hour.” Buttoning the top, coffee hued locks curtain his face, his perfectly groomed beard in perfect contrast with the lighter fabric; the bulge of his toned arms protruding at the textile. “And when I’m back,

I’ll be expecting another round.

Have yourself ready, please.”

And with those piercing words, he dresses himself, leaving her bare, exposed, in his bed.

A promise to come back for more left behind.

A demand, for more when he’d be back.

John wasn’t looking for love. John made it clear. This was physical. Something to quench his every longing need.

The ring of the door shut, the buzzing New York traffic below. She sits, decision tense on her mind.

John Wick, was her first.

And he, wanted her to be his last.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

part 2

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#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick x you

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sunfleurry · 4 years ago

Text

Fires and Flames

Warnings: Smut, language, & alcohol.

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

I should’ve left the minute I saw the look in his eyes when I told him. I was laying with my head on his chest, my bare skin sticking to his with the sheen of sweat covering our bodies. His fingers were lightly tracing the length of my spine as we caught our breaths in the quiet of the night under the lavish chandelier he had splurged on for his bedroom. I knew he could feel my heart rate speed up as my mind fought the urge to tell him, just tell him how I felt—how I still feel—before the courage I had would slip away. So, I did.

“I love you.”

If the room wasn’t quiet before, it was quiet now as his fingers stilled and we both stopped breathing. In my case, it was because I wanted to put all my focus on his response, his reaction, anything. In his case, well, I didn’t know why he did that. I thought it was from pure shock of hearing me say it for the first time, but deep down, I knew it was because of a deeper reason. A reason that would only be the downfall of what was once considered “us.” And I saw it coming the moment we met.

________________

My friend Vi was yelling something in my ear but I could barely hear her over the loud music, so I simply nodded. She looked at me weird and I realized that nod may have been the wrong response.

“I can’t hear anything you’re saying,” I yelled.

She leaned over and cupped her hands around my ear and proceeded to loudly repeat what she said. “That guy has been staring at you since we got here.”

“Who?”

She pointed at the bar and I followed her finger until I spotted a man in his mid-twenties who was alone, nursing a cup of God knows what. When we made eye contact, he nodded his head in acknowledgement then took a sip of his drink.

He was cute.

“Should I go talk to him?” I asked Vi.

“Are you kidding me? If you don’t I will.”

I laughed. She had a point. He was handsome, what with his brown hair that curled slightly around his ears and forehead, or the tattoos that littered his arms. I eyed his clothing and wondered if there were more underneath.

Straightening myself, I awkwardly started walking towards him, extra cautious of my ankles as I hoped my heels wouldn’t betray me in front of the handsome stranger. Seeing me approach, he set his glass on the counter, and watched me make my way over. I was getting self-conscious under his gaze, but I kept my head held high until finally I was standing right in front of him.

“Are you going to ask for my number or are you going to keep staring at me all night?” My words exuded the confidence I was not feeling on the inside.

His lips twitched, the corners turning upwards. It was barely noticeable, and I had to rip my eyes away from his gorgeous green ones to see it. “How about we skip all of that and go straight to mine.”

I laughed in disbelief. “No thank you.”

The man nodded in understanding, then turned back to his glass.

I don’t know why I didn’t leave him alone after that. Why was he here all alone? I asked him just that.

He slowly turned his body towards me before looking away a moment later. “Can’t a man go out for a drink on his own? Maybe I like my own company.”

“You don’t seem to be having a fun time.” I was overstepping it. Who was I to make assumptions about a stranger?

He sighed and looked down at his drink. I decided to sit next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I rolled my eyes. Well, I tried. I put my palms on the counter to lift myself up when a ringed hand covered my own.

“It’s Harry,” he said.

I studied his face, trying to understand what exactly was going on inside his head. He had the eyes of a boy trying his best to make up for a mistake he didn’t know he made. He almost seemed desperate for me to forgive his aloofness. It was as if he was just learning how to be social for the first time.

I smiled and replied with my own name.

________________

Harry didn’t say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. I lifted my head to peer at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He was frowning lightly, his gaze fixed on my face but not my eyes. He seemed to be frozen on the outside, but I knew that his thoughts were running a mile a minute–it’s what he does. He’s an overthinker, and that moment was not different from all the other moments he had to stop and think about people’s intentions towards him.

I would be lying if I said the fact that he had to question my confession didn’t sting, or that the look in his eyes was nothing of what I wanted to see. I wanted to see relief, happiness, contentment. But all I saw was nothing. Emptiness.

Finally, he opened his mouth, and I stupidly felt a surge of hope, but then he closed it without a sound—and my hope deflated.

I leaned over and softly brushed my lips to his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whispered before I started detaching myself from him. I wanted to cry but not in front of him. Instead, with a heavy lump in my throat and tears threatening to spill, I found my panties on the floor and slipped them on, then threw his button up over my shoulders.

I heard rustling behind me, then my name sounding from his mouth stopped me at the doorway to his bathroom.

I turned around and he winced. I imagined it was because the emotion I’ve always been bad at hiding was clear as day on my face. It’s something I struggled with since I was a child and still try to work on to this day.

He was sat up now, the blanket covering his lower half, his back slightly curved. He looked at me with a pained face. “I don’t–”

“I know,” I sighed before concealing myself completely from his view by finally closing the door behind me and letting out a large breath. I clutched at the fabric covering my chest, as if I was holding in my aching heart, my tears spilling, one by one. I dropped my head in my hands to stifle my sobs, not wanting him to hear how much he affected me. I’m not sure why I thought that would work, when not two minutes ago I told him I loved him.

________________

That night, we ended up in my bed together.

“Yes,” I gasped, “harder.”

He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. He was rough the way I liked it–he quickly learned how to push my buttons.

I was on my knees, my face pressed into the mattress as he took me the way he wanted to. My hands clenched around the sheets at a particular hard thrust and he groaned when I tensed around him. I gasped when he pulled out but then he flipped me over on my back. I smiled as he got on top of me, his arms caging my head, before he entered me once again.

I was mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he stole pleasure from my body. I wrapped my legs around his hips as did my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer to me. I welcomed his comforting weight on top of me.

I carded my fingers through his hair and when he moved his gaze from my breasts to my face, I couldn’t resist but lift my head and connect our lips. Upon realizing what I did, I quickly pulled away and opened my mouth to apologize profusely.

“I told you not to kiss me,” he panted as he pulled out of me.

“I know I’m sorry! I don’t know what got over me, I was just in the moment.”

He rolled off and slumped on the bed beside me, the both of us breathing hard. He was quiet, I didn’t know if he was expecting me to say anything else or if he was planning on leaving.

I swallowed and stared up at the ceiling feeling guilty. One of the first things he had told me when when we got in the cab was not to kiss him. I thought it was a weird request, and I was kind of bummed, but I respected it. I tried to at least.

I was about to start another wave of apologies, but I didn’t have time to think about what was happening before Harry leaned his weight on his elbow to slot his lips with mine. I didn’t think twice as I kissed him back, brushing away the initial shock. I realized at that moment that I liked kissing him. A lot.

With his lips still moving with mine, he got back on top of me, and finished what he started.

________________

After a moment of trying to control my breathing, I slipped off what little clothing I had on and climbed into the shower. The steamy water hitting my body helped me relax and my mood lifted slightly as I washed and soaped my skin and hair. Watching the water fall down the drain, I imagined it to be my feelings, one by one, disappearing into the ground and out of sight.

I faintly heard the bathroom door open, then his footsteps, and finally the shower door. Harry climbed in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer, holding me against him. His damp curls tickled my cheek when he leaned forward and kissed my neck twice, before bringing his lips up to my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I swallowed the lump that had once again formed in my throat. I brought my hand to my stomach where his arms were and entwined our fingers. “I’m not taking it back. I meant it.”

He kissed my skin again. “I know.”

I rolled my lips inward as I nodded my head once, then turned around, his arms still encircling my body. I reached up and gently held his face to simply lock eyes with him. I secretly cursed him for making my heart stutter just by looking at him, at those eyes that say so much, yet nothing all at once. I’d always been captivated by them, not just by their striking green colour, but the stories they hid. Every day, I tried so hard to read him, understand what he was thinking about, what he was worrying about, what he was remembering–I even asked him at times, “what are you thinking about?” or “what is it?” He’d always just shrug, smile and kiss me to make me forget. But I never forgot.

________________

It wasn’t the first time this happened. I was in the kitchen washing the dishes and he was in his room. I was drying my hands when suddenly I heard him call out my name. The tone of his voice had me drop the towel on the floor and hurry towards his bedroom. He was leaning over his dresser, an arm on the top keeping him upright as he took shallow breaths.

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered as I rushed to his side.

I carefully led him to his bed to have him sit down. “Breathe with me,” I said, gently.

His eyes were wild as he tried to comply. I breathed calmly and grabbed his hand, urging him to copy me. The contact seemed to help as he started to calm down.

“Now count with me,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

After a while, his breathing finally eased up, and tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall.

“Come here,” I said as I helped him lay down. I crawled behind him and tangled our legs together while I hugged his back to my chest. I kissed his hair as I worked on keeping my breathing steady, making sure he was still doing the same.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he croaked.

“I’m right here,” I whispered into his hair.

“I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

________________

He let go of me when I grabbed the shampoo. I squeezed some onto my palm as he sat on the protruding ledge in the shower, making it easier for me to reach his hair. One thing I knew about Harry was that he loved it when I washed his hair. I didn’t mind, because it gave me an excuse to run my hands through it, another feature to admire of the man I fell in love with. I could feel my eyes stinging once again and this time I let the tears fall freely. He was peering up at me as I lathered his hair with my fingertips, making sure I soaped his roots thoroughly. I hoped my tears were blending into the water–that he didn’t know I was crying–but then his face fell in concern.

“Hey,” he slid his hands behind my thighs to urge me closer. “Come here.”

That did it for me. A sob clawed its way out of my throat, and Harry quickly sat me on his lap as I buried my face into his neck and let everything I was holding in escape. I felt him lean forward before the water was shut off and we were left in the steam of the shower as I proceeded to break in his arms.

________________

“What the fuck is this, Harry?” I was seething.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Of course it’s what it looks like!” I yelled as I shoved the phone in his face.

“They’re just friends,” he sighed.

Tears of frustration welled up as I tried to grasp at this whole mess. “You left, Harry. Without a fucking word and days later I find pictures of you at some beach resort with a random girl all over you?”

He held his hands up. “We were just dancing, I promise.”

I pulled at the roots in my hair. “You don’t get it! Forget what you were doing at that exact moment, Harry! I visit you every day because I care about you and I get worried about you and I want to make sure you’re okay. Then one day you don’t answer the door and excuse me for thinking of the worst case scenario! You don’t answer my calls or my texts, hell, I even fucking emailed you, only to find out days later via Instagram that you were outside of the fucking country having the time of your life?!”

I fell back on the couch feeling nothing but raw anger and hurt as I waited for him to say something.

He got on his knees in front of me but I moved my head out of the way when he tried to cup my face. “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby–”

I balled my hands into fists. “Don’t call me that, I don’t want to hear you calling me that right now.”

“Fine, fine,” he cried. He hugged my legs and laid his head on my knees. “I’m so sorry. You may not believe me but I thought of you every day while I was gone.”

I scoffed at that and crossed my arms over my chest, making sure I didn't touch him. I quickly wiped at the wetness on my cheek, not wanting him to see that I am not only mad, but also sad and hurt. “Disrespect me one more time and we’re over, Harry.”

His head snapped up and panic took over his features. “No, please. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I started crying because everything was too much for me. He did something that had me panicking for days.

“I don’t deserve you,” he continued.

“This isn’t the first time you do this, Harry,” I sniffled. He got off the floor and pulled me into his arms as he laid back on the couch.

“I know and I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed, and I feel like I’m in a box, like my surroundings are closing in. It makes me want to escape, it’s animalistic, I feel like I’m going crazy. At that moment, as if someone was listening to my prayers to make it go away, my friend called me asking me if I wanted to go on a short getaway with him and some other people. I said yes and out of sheer desperation, booked a flight right away.”

“And you didn’t even think of me.”

He held me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was like I blacked out. Again, I am so sorry.”

I let out a long, exhausted breath. I knew what I was getting myself into when I met Harry yet I still went through with it. He was a sad man, a broken man and I still believed he would be the perfect boyfriend. “It’s okay,” I rubbed his chest. “It’s okay.”

As we both laid there in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help but think, I shouldn’t have been comforting him. He was supposed to be comforting me.

________________

“Please don’t cry,” I heard him say as he brushed back my wet hair, the majority of it sticking to my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I continued to cry into his neck, not believing how much I had bottled up until that moment. Suddenly I felt wet droplets soak my skin, and I knew it wasn’t the water.

A sniffle escaped Harry and it confirmed my suspicions as he hugged me closer and cried with me. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered brokenly.

I closed my eyes, as we held each other tightly, and didn’t deny it. He was right, I thought sadly, he didn’t deserve me. He put me through hell, and I let him. I naively believed that I could change him, make him feel better–fix him. I wanted to laugh at myself. How could I have been so stupid? He pushed me away too many times to count, yet I stubbornly stayed. Because I loved him. I let myself fall in love with him. And now we’re both facing the heartbreak that’s been looming over our relationship–or whatever it was–since the start.

When I reluctantly leaned back to look at him, I wanted to break down all over again. I’d never seen him cry, and it was a sight I wished I could unsee because his sadness felt like a stab in my heart. I always knew he was a sad man but I’d never seen it on his face so clearly. I saw it through his actions, through his words, but seeing the red eyes, the lowered brows, the downturned lips that I thought about every day, and the tears that littered his red cheeks made me wish I was some magical being who can erase the broken pieces of him.

His gaze followed the movement of my throat as I swallowed then it lifted back up to my own. It was like we were having a silent conversation with our eyes–like we were both dreading opening our mouths and actually sounding out the words that would be the end of us. Then his hand trailed up my skin and the pressure of it on the back of my head encouraged me to lean forward and attach my lips to his.

________________

I smiled brightly as I spotted Harry sitting on a park bench reading a book. He looked so handsome in his tortoise shell glasses and messy hair. As if sensing my presence, he looked up and the smile that graced his features made me want to melt in a puddle. That smile. All for me, I thought giddily as I hurried my pace, eager to be in his arms.

Then, I felt a tug on my skirt and fingers brushing the skin on my thighs. My eyes widened as I looked at the man who had just walked by me and didn’t even look back. When I snapped my gaze to Harry, he was already marching towards the man who had touched me, completely ignoring my pleas to let it go.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes still glaring at the man who was now talking to a woman ten metres away.

“I’m fine, Harry,” I said warily, putting my hands on his chest.

“That fucking entitled prick,” he said, anger boiling inside him.

“It’s all good, calm down.”

“Fuck this,” he brushed my hands off and stomped towards the man. The latter barely got a look at him before my boyfriend’s fist connected with his face.

The woman and I let out a short scream. I ran towards Harry, pulling his shoulders to get him off the stranger who was now on the floor, flimsily blocking the onslaught of Harry’s hits to his face.

“Harry! Stop!”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he didn’t let up. I looked around for help, but everyone seemed happy to watch two men fight. I gasped when the man was able to hit Harry in the jaw. There was no room for careful consideration before I flung myself towards the two men with the intention of throwing myself in between them before someone grabbed me by the waist.

“Get off me!” I yelled at the boy who was holding me back but he only laughed.

I was beyond exasperated and annoyed. “Harry, I swear to God if you don’t stop I will turn around and never look back.”

He seemed to hear that at least. The creep put me down, thankfully before Harry saw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

________________

I poured every emotion into the kiss. I held his head in my hands as our lips moved together in sync, like they always did. I was telling him I loved him again with that kiss. He nudged my leg and I complied with his silent request to bring it over his lap to straddle him.

He deepened the kiss as his arms snaked around my waist. He’d never kissed me like that, like he was desperately trying to make me understand who he was and why he was the way he was. He kissed me with love and comfort, happiness and fulfillment, but also with sadness and regret, sorrow and dejection.

I was growing tired of my tears but they seemed to be here to stay as my eyes started watering again. “I don’t know how I’ll live after this,” I choked but he only shook his head as he brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Listen to me,” he pleaded when I looked down, unable to hold eye contact. He nudged my chin up to lock eyes once again. “You are the light of my life. And I’m begging you,” he whispered, his breath fanning my lips, “don’t let me be the reason that light goes out. I’ve done enough damage, don’t let me do any more.”

________________

I loved him like this. Relaxed, no creases between his eyebrows, a smile on his face. We were spending the afternoon at my place–talking and laughing about stupid things, the wine we drank making us even more giggly.

We were progressing with our relationship and I was somewhat satisfied with it. I knew it would be tough to get him to open up, but slowly and surely, he’d been getting much more comfortable around me–enough to tell me more about himself. Not his secrets of course, the ones that left him the broken man he is, but he was definitely becoming more affectionate. He was letting me in. I had seen pictures of his brothers and sisters and his mother and father around the house but every time I asked about them, he’d shut down.

I asked him again another time and he gave me a little more.

“They’re not around anymore.”

That could mean so many different things, but I decided that was enough for now. I was satisfied with the fact that he was able to give me that sliver of information. Any progress was good progress.

“We’re all out of wine,” I pouted as I stared at the empty bottle on the coffee table, leaning back into the loveseat.

He chuckled. “There may or may not be an extra bottle in the kitchen.”

I jumped up and started making my way to the kitchen but as I passed by him, he intercepted me and I squealed as he left me to fall on his chest. “I hate you,” I laughed.

He kissed my nose, making me giggle. “No you don’t”

“No I don’t.”

“See?” He asked as his hand tickled my side.

I squirmed out of the way, an obnoxious laugh escaping me. “I need to get the wine.”

“I don’t want wine anymore,” Harry said, encouraging me to lay my head on him. “I have you now.”

I sighed in contentment and smiled as I listened to his heartbeat.

________________

“I love you.”

“Don’t,” he winced. “Please.”

I kissed him again and he responded without hesitation. This time, the kiss held more passion and fervour. It reminded me of the first time we had sex almost a year and a half ago, when it was all a rush and we couldn’t get enough of each other. I moaned when his tongue touched mine and he reached down to slip his fingers between my folds, the palm of his hand a constant pressure on my clit. I whined into his mouth when he inserted a finger inside, then two, and started carefully rubbing my inner walls. I reached down and grabbed his dick and stroked until I felt it start to harden in my hands.

“That’s enough,” I mumbled and reached down to stop his hand. I was already going to come.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed–”

“No,” I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “That’s not what I meant.”

I ran my thumb over the tip of his length and he shuddered. “Are you sure?”

I smiled sadly and rested a hand on his cheek. “Yes.”

He helped me lean forward, letting me align his length with my centre before I started sinking down, and he slowly entered me in a way I never got used to. The delicious stretch always required a moment for me to adjust before I started moving. He tightened his hold on me when I started doing just that.

________________

“Harry,” I asked as I brushed his hair with my finger. We were sitting on the floor, my back to the couch as he sat between my legs. I had just helped him through another panic attack and there we were, fifteen minutes later still on the floor. My ass was getting numb but I didn’t want to get up until Harry was ready. “Have you ever considered therapy?”

He stiffened. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“But–”

He turned around and gave me a long look.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed.

He leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”

I said, “This isn’t over. I’m not letting this go.”

“I know,” he shook his head before making me lay down on the floor and trailing his lips across my chest. “Need you.”

I laughed and helped him undress me.

________________

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I gasped as I started moving with the help of his hands on my hips.

The steam from our shower was already fading away, but the heat remained and paired with our movements, sweat coated our bodies, allowing us to move more easily against each other.

My knees were planted on either side of him on the ledge as he held me to him to prevent me falling backwards. Our lips never separated, moaning into each other’s mouths as we relished in the feeling we were experiencing for the last time. The thought made a sob escape my mouth and he squeezed my hips, pausing my movements.

“We can stop,” he mumbled sweetly, ducking his head to try and get me to look at him.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” my voice broke at the last syllable. Finally mustering up the courage to look at him, I only wanted to cry harder. He had tears falling, eyes red and sad, and I wished we could turn back time and fix every problem we had the way we were supposed to. I wished we were other people, in another lifetime, who had no issues and who knew how to make us work.

“Come here,” he said and I closed my eyes when his lips touched mine.

I started moving again and he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Break-up sex was supposed to be quick and dirty. What we were doing right then was sheer torture. We were prolonging the pain, both too scared to face what reality we would face as soon as we were done.

________________

“Harry, we need to talk about this.”

It was another fight. About the same damn thing.

He snapped his head towards me.

“You can’t keep relying on me for your happiness.”

He frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“I mean you finally agreed to go to therapy which is great, but this is the fourth time you ‘forgot’ to go this month.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Why out of all times, he chose then to act stupid? “Baby, if you would just talk to me, open up to me, I wouldn’t be after you about this but you won’t even tell me anything. Sometimes I sit back and think to myself, I know nothing about him. My own boyfriend.”

He scoffed. “You know plenty.”

I grew restless. “I know your name, I know where you work, I know your favourite drink–especially because you reach for it more than you should.”

He grit his teeth at the last statement but I stood by it. I continued, “I know your birthday, I know what car you drive.”

“What’s my favourite colour?”

“Orange. Harry, that means fuck all compared to what I am trying to tell you. I don’t know where you grew up, I don’t know any of your friends–”

“I told you why! They’re not good people!”

“Then why do you spend time with them? Tell me why!”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” he snapped.

I decided the best response was to walk away, which was what I did. Fuck that, I couldn’t deal with him anymore.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He yelled and I could hear his footsteps catching up to mine.

That fight ended one of both ways all our fights ended. With me comforting him or sex.

________________

His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me in place as he started rutting upwards. The moans I emitted told him he was hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his as I let myself feel every inch of him as he got more rough by the second. I knew he was watching me but I couldn’t take it anymore–looking into his eyes hurt my heart, I could feel it break the longer I stared at him. For the first time since I met him, I let myself hide from him. I didn’t give him what he wanted, I didn’t keep my eyes open the way I knew he wanted. I stood my ground, kept my eyes closed despite the tears slipping past my lids, and selfishly let myself feel him for the last time.

My climax hit me out of nowhere and I jerked forward, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pound into me. My moans echoed loudly in the closed shower stall as I continued to tense around him.

Harry groaned as he held my head in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs. I finally lost self control–I let my eyes meet his and saw grief, a look I had only seen once and that was when I asked him about his family. “Harry,” I breathed.

“Shhhhh,” he kissed me. “I’m okay. I’m only worried about you.”

I shook my head. “No, you—“

He kissed me again to shut me up. I reciprocated this time.

Suddenly he groaned as he thrusted a couple more times and I winced from the sensitivity down there. He tensed and burrowed his face in my neck allowing me to hold him close through his orgasm as he breathed hard and finally spilled into me. I didn’t want him to let go. I didn’t want this to be the end.

“I love you, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything.

I separated myself from him and he steadied me before I looked at him for the last time while wiping his wet cheeks. I couldn’t resist leaning down and giving him the softest of kisses.

“I don’t regret you.”

Then I left.

Part 2

A/N: HI BITCHES IM BACK AFTER A MUCH NEEDED MENTAL HEALTH BREAK <3 I missed you. I’m gonna be uploading my favourite fics that I deleted months ago along with my blog.

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