#i love my body hair despite being told that it was shameful too since the very moment i started growing it (fuck that bitch in particular)

[idon-twannabeperceived]

You know what? I love my body actually. Fuck everyone that ever made me believe that the best i could ever get to was maybe tolerate it.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - Gone Too Early

Warning: Season 4 Finale Spoiler Ahead

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

I ran through the crumbling building, my goggles pushed up my face, headscarf covering my hair as I ran around looking for JJ. He had left for a few moments to help the others and we were now separated and I was alone, scared for my life.

I had never thought that my life would come to the point that I was in another country for the nth time, running from people. I was now always running from people ever since I met JJ and the other pogues.

I look around as I call out for my boyfriend when suddenly, someone comes up from behind, grabbing me harshly, one hand grips my shoulder while the other holds a knife up to my neck.

I scream and immediately I'm being shushed so I oblige, scared for my life. I didn't even know who was behind me but I had a few guesses.

I could hear footsteps and JJ came running in he froze for a moment as he saw the position that me and whoever was holding me were in. He then comes over, holding onto the bag that held the crown.

"Let her go!" He firmly told whoever was holding me.

"Stop right there." The man behind me tells JJ and so he does. "You know what I want." He tells JJ and even I knew what he was talking about. The crown, he wanted the crown.

"Just let her go." JJ says and I really hope that he just gives the crown to this man to get me out of this situation but really, I had no real doubt that he would.

"You could've stuck with me JJ. Think what you could've had." The man says and immediately I know that it's his dad. His real dad.

I'm whimpering in fear as this all happens as I look into my boyfriend's eyes, waiting for him to just give the guy the damn crown. He looks me back in my eyes before looking over at his dad.

"You want the crown. Sure, take it. Take it. I don't want it. Just let Lucia go." He firmly says.

His dad reaches out for it and JJ hands it to him, his other hand immediately grabbing onto me as he exchanges the crown for me. He holds me close as he pulls me away, leaning down and hugging me tightly.

I relax into his hold and start to cry a bit in fear as we hold one another close.

"It's okay. It's okay." He softly says and I pull away a little before kissing him. We pull away after a few moments and he looks down at me.

"JJ." I hear his dad say. JJ reluctantly turns around to face his dad. "It's a shame. You and me." His dad says and I sigh.

There's then a movement from his dad, a squelching noise, and JJ is bending down a little, a groan falling from his lips. I freeze, not able to process what had just happened. I back away a little and then I see, the knife in JJ's stomach. I gasp, my whole body now shaking in fear, not knowing what to do.

I watch in fear as his dad shoves the knife deeper into him, "You should have.. given me.. the rope." His dad says before pulling the knife out of him. JJ falls back a bit and I hold onto him as his dad stands there for a moment before running off.

"JJ..." I say, voice shaking. "JJ." I say a bit louder, the panic setting in. He falls to the ground and I kneel down with him. "No, no. No. Please, no. No." I'm stammering, tears sliding down my cheeks.

He's coughing, choking, stammering and I'm freaking out, my hand trying to stop the bleeding even though obviously that wouldn't work.

"I- I don't know what to do." I sob, feeling like I was making this even worse by not knowing what to do.

His hand comes up to my face before moving to my head, caressing my head over the scarf weakly. "Lucia.." He mutters out.

My heart drops even more than it already did, "No, no, don't." I say, knowing what he was going to say.

"Lucia, I love you. I love you so much." JJ says, despite my rejection. I find myself sobbing as I lean my head into his chest. "We're- we're not going to be able to have what we wanted. The- the big kook house with dogs and kids- kids of our own. I'm s-sorry, baby." He stammered out, using a lot of energy even to just say that.

Those words hit my heart so deeply, hurting it in a way I've never felt before. I'd never felt this type of pain before. Never in my life.

"Don't say that." I sob against his chest. "Don't!"

"I love you, Lucia. I love you." I say and after a few moments, I feel his body still and his hand slowly drops from my head. I freeze, quickly pulling away and I could see his body completely still and his eyes shut.

"JJ." I say. "JJ. JJ? JJ. Please, JJ. Please answer me!" I sob, shaking his body but he's limp. "No!" I cry out. "No! No! No!" I sob loudly as hug his body. "No!" I scream in internal pain as I cry against his skin.

I don't even realize it when the others come running over and crowd JJ and me. I don't. I'm completely in my own world as I sob in utter pain and sorrow. He was gone. He was dead. JJ was dead.

The man who, yeah, I planned to live in a nice Kook house with, with dogs and our own kids, was dead. Sure, I knew that would never happen but I was okay living the life we already lived, as long as it meant that I was with him.

What was I going to do without him? What was I going to do? He was all I wanted and now, I could have him no longer. JJ was the only one who really fully understood me. The only person I ever fully opened up to. I couldn't imagine being like that with anyone else and he was gone. Gone.

Sure, he made some stupid choices and sure, he didn't have the best life but that never mattered to me. I knew that all too well. I could never judge him for it. I'd always love him despite that.

Maybe I should've known that this day would come. I probably should've. Maybe in the back of my mind, I did know. If it hadn't been today it likely would've been another day. Especially with the way things were going leading up to this day.

I should've known that nothing lasts forever.

THE END

[escapismkidnappedme]

When I was 12, I got my period. It scared me. I thought I was dying.

Naturally, I told my mother. If I was dying, I was going to spend every last breath designing my funeral to be the best funeral a twelve-year-old could have.

She simply replied "You're a woman, now." as I was given a box of pads and the discussion of what to do began. It was simple, unceremonious, and any questions I had were answered in the best way a parent raised in shame could speak to their child who simply did not understand why it was shameful, could. I only knew not to bother my dad about it because he wouldn't know where to begin on the subject.

The only question that couldn't be answered satisfactorily was 'Why am I a woman?' I was told the biological reasonings, the theological explanation, an explanation of my past of wearing dresses and having a predisposition for liking the color pink- despite my favorite color being blue since my birth, and the explanation of how my body would change next.

My hips would grow in, my chest would no longer be flat, I would have to start shaving my legs and armpits, I would soon be policed on every way my body presented. Short of illness, I could no longer talk to my mother about my body.

Eating no longer became an act of indulgence but rather an activity to be avoided at all costs. My father would laugh at how little my mother ate, not knowing what was drilled into her as a teenager. I sat across the table and decided that I would eat to enjoy food, unknowingly treating mealtimes as a replacement for the comfort I once felt in my family.

Bulimia came as I felt like it was my way of fighting back. I could eat whatever I wanted as long as I threw up more than I put in. I gained weight anyways. I became fearful of carbs, terrified of sugar, and reliant on coffee to keep myself thin. Vegetables were fine, but only if others heard my stomach growl to the point that it was making them uncomfortable.

My body was no longer my own. It had simply been loaned to me in my childhood until I was old enough to pay for it in my teenage years. I could have it back when I was an adult and proved I wanted it enough.

In high school, I hoped the reasons I felt so disconnected from my body was because I was transgender. The hatred of my own breasts had to be from dysphoria. I never wanted them. I never felt an internal urge to 'be' a woman, despite my biological leanings, so it must be that I was a man.

In college, I changed my name. I began to go by masculine pronouns. I became policed as a man rather than as a woman, and still I was treated like an idiot blonde. My hair was criticized for being too long, then for being too short. I was policed for not having enough body hair, but hated how prickly my legs felt whenever I skipped shaving.

I entered my first long-term relationship where I was policed for not being masculine enough. I was constantly told that when I got on testosterone, I would finally have a libido. I was treated as a 'work in progress' that would be loved as soon as I was done working on myself, rather than for the person I was.

I was treated as eye candy while I replaced the comfort one should feel in a relationship with food. Carbs became my respite. I gained weight. In two years, I gained eighty pounds.

When I finally stopped having sex out of coercion, I was cheated on. Once I found out, I broke it off and moved out a little under a month later. I went back to college, broke down and shaved my legs, and finally let my hair grow out. For some odd reason, my breakdown manifested in the foods I ate. I could only have a specific salad I make from the dining hall's salad bar because it meant I was in control of the portion.

I lost the first ten pounds that month, earning myself the allegation that I was on diabetes medication, and when the next ten came off, I earned the allegation that I did cocaine.

I'm still repairing my relationship with food, and still trying to find my perfect label that encapsulates how I want to present myself to the world, but all I've learned is that I have no interest in following strict social codes to identify as any particular gender correctly. Simply put, I am myself. However I choose to present is how I think my clothes would look best. If it means looking like what people perceive as a man, or if it looks like what people perceive as a woman, then it is their job to decide. As for my body, I view it the same way I view a car. I'm in it, I can adorn it, but as long as everything is working properly, I don't really care for comments about it.

[thegrandlinesimp]

Hi hi!! Welcome to the world of being a scenario owner’s blog! Sending you creative vibes ♡

Since your request is open…. I see that you ship Kid & Killer and you’re ok with polygamous relationship, so can we have a poly with these two and reader, please? I would love to have some fluff set in canon omegaverse world! Maybe with an Omega!Female s/o?

I hope this is enough information, but do let me know if you need more details, and feel free to change anything if it means it’ll inspire you more!

Thank you and I hope you have fun writing this request! 🍀

Ok so I got real excited and ended up thinking of a bunch of things for this one so imma talk about the boys separately and then together…it’ll make sense when you read it.

Also, as I’ve stated in my rules I write strong female characters, and you certainly have to be one to deal with both these guys 😆

Kid’s is only longer because of an explanation at the beginning that also applies to Killer so it wasn’t repeated in his.

And thank you so much for the warm welcome 🤗

Warning: reference to Japan’s age of consent in Kid’s, nothing to do with reader or sex though, but if that makes you squeamish you have been warned.

Alpha!Kid/Alpha!Killer/Omega!Reader Fluff Headcanons

Kid

Right, let’s just get one thing straight first, in order for you - an Omega female - to even be considered a spot on Kid’s crew, you’d have to be great at kicking ass. Beyond exceptional for him to want to want you as his mate

Bear with me here

You’d have to be able to hold your own in a fight, kick down nearly any Alpha that came your way

Cause here’s the thing, Kid’s been by Killer’s side for a huge portion of his life, and I can see them becoming mates around the time Kid was 16 (Killer told him to wait till he was at the age of consent when he asked the blonde, Kid was 14 then)

Case in point, he’s not used to the idea of having to constantly look out for his mate while fighting, as Killer is more than capable of taking care of himself

So don’t expect him to white knight his way into saving you unless you actively scream for help

But other than that, Kid is surprisingly affectionate

And, contrary to what most believe, he’s not incredibly possessive. This again stems with his relationship with Killer, who never looked twice at anyone else but his captain

Kid’s used to loyalty, and knows you can handle yourself - despite being an Omega

So, if any other Alpha approaches you, he’s not the type to get all possessive, but more he’ll relish in the sight of his Omega pummelling some would be pervert of an Alpha into the dirt, though he’ll insist on finishing them off himself, he’s still a tiny bit possessive just like any other Alpha and needs the satisfaction

But he is the one to drape an arm around your shoulders when exploring a new town, not to pull you too close so as to smother you with his scent and body, but more as a silent message to onlookers that you’re spoken for

Then there’s drunk Kid

Has no shame in pulling you into his lap, one hand on your waist, a stein in the other

Man is your biggest fan

“This is y/n, she’s taken down every Alpha Marine she’s ever faced!”

Doesn’t care if you’re embarrassed by it, man wants to sing you praises about how he has such a strong, awesome Omega for a mate!

Will make out with you if he feels the need to

Don’t bother complaining about how his breath reeks of alcohol, he’ll use it as an excuse to nibble your neck instead

Drunk Kid is horny Kid no matter the AU

But he’s not for overly soft displays of affection, at least, not in public

In the privacy of his workshop though, he’s more than happy for you to sit on his lap and watch him work, giving the top of your head little nuzzles every now and then

Ah, then there’s your hair

If you have long hair and don’t mind him playing with it, he’s gonna

Thank Killer for this little habit, Kid’s just so used to playing with his hair that yours is no different

Most of the time this soft tulip doesn’t even know he’s curling strands of your locks around his fingers

If he’s mildly grumpy he will drag you away to the bedroom for mandatory cuddles!

Picture him on the bed, cross legged, you on his lap, back to his chest and his chin atop your head, arms wrapped around you with a great big pout of his face

Your scent is what calms him when he’s in these moods, and since you’re too small to envelop him, he’ll just envelop you

All in all, a soft, loud Alpha who loves his Omega very dearly

Killer

Public wise, he’s a lot more reserved than his Alpha mate

If another Alpha is bothering you and Kid isn’t around, he’ll approach the situation calmly and if you haven’t knocked them on their ass by the time he arrives place a hand on your shoulder

“Is everything alright, y/n?”

Will not hesitate to punch a bitch if you know you can’t take them on

He’s glad for a strong, smart Omega who knows when to pick her battles, he’s already got a hard enough job babysitting one knot-headed mate, let alone two!

If you have long hair like him, he’ll help you braid it, you don’t even have to do his in return

Though he loves it when you offer and do so

Heard Kid muttering about how he thinks the matching braids are cute, but Killer knows to never tell a soul

Was incredibly nervous the first time he took his mask off in front of you

But the look you have him as you said how handsome he is, made all his anxieties melt away

Man vowed to protect you till his last breath

Loves cooking/baking little treats for you

Other crew members have jokingly asked “hey, where’s my cupcake?”

Killer never answers but Kid feels the need to

“Y/N’s only getting one cause she suck-“

It’s usually at this point Killer hits his Captain/mate over the head with a baking tray/fry pan/whatever’s on hand

He was the one to buy you a nest base (it’s like a round, thick futon with thicker edges, the use is in the name)

Then Kid felt the need to get you something as well, ended up getting you a knife cause he thought it looked cool, that was the first time you heard Killer chuckle

Out of the two he was the one to ask you if you wanted to mark him back, since conventionally it’s only the Alpha who does the marking

Kid was immediately all for the idea

The three of you now have matching dual bite marks, one on each side of the neck

Both

(you have no idea how long it took to find a gif with both them in it, that should be a fucking crime!)

Had no idea they needed an Omega crew member till you came along

With a crew of mostly Alpha males a lot of fights used to break out, especially during stressful times

But after you joined it was like your mere presence put the whole crew at ease

Really, it’s because they all now have the unified goal of “protect the precious Omega” they know you can handle yourself, but their instincts don’t

They both love how, while you’re an absolute bad ass Omega, you still manage to mother the other crew members, scolding them when the odd fight broke out

Kid laughs when they hang their heads in shame

In a way you completed their pack of misfits

Both love it when you wear their clothes, whether it’s just because it’s there or you need their scent on you and they’re not available at the time, they just love it

Killer’s shirts look like short dresses and he sometimes double checks he’s wearing his mask cause his face is just that red

If you greet Kid in nothing but his coat he’ll get on his knees for you, man’s putty in your hands

It was when you were still new to the relationship but had started sleeping in their cabin that things got really interesting

Mainly, when you started nesting

Kid didn’t know how to feel when he came back to his cabin to find the bed sheets and all his and Killer’s unwashed clothes missing, along with his Omega

Killer, of course, was the voice of reason

“She probably didn’t want to freak us out by making her nest in the cabin.”

Which had been thoughtful, considering neither had ever heat-shared with an Omega

But Kid, of course, got snappy

“Well…I want it in our cabin!”

Such a bratty child

Eventually they found you in a storage room, your nest almost finished

Kid stormed over to the nest

“No, no, not here!”

“Kid, wait, don’t!”

But Killer couldn’t stop him in time as he proceeded to pick up a large portion of clothes and blankets, nearly half of your carefully constructed nest

Effectively ruining it

“Put it back! Put it back!” Killer was shrieking shouting

Kid had no idea what he’d done wrong till he saw you silently sobbing, a little tremble in your body as you stared at the remains of your nest

“Shit, fuck, no, wait! I didn’t mean to-“

And then you burst into tears

Killer was the one to calm you down while Kid sat in the corner looking like a kicked puppy

Though it did give you the opportunity to remake your nest in the cabin

Kid was very apologetic, even gave you his prized coat as nesting material, felt like he’d melted when you wrapped yourself in it before snuggling down into the finished nest

A few days later…you went into heat

Kid was panicking, boy had only ever been around Alphas and had no idea how to care for you

Killer was more level headed, managing to snap his mate out of his panic attack

“All we have to do is remain calm, get her what she needs when she needs it, and everything’ll be okay.”

“Wh-…what about the sex bit?”

“…What she needs when she needs it, Kid.”

Tulip saw how out of it you already were and was honestly scared of hurting you

Killer was the first in the nest, Kid having learned a hard lesson in the storage room and so was worried about messing up your creation again

Killer struggled not to laugh when his mate literally ended up tiptoeing into the nest

But he slipped and landed on his ass when his heel shoved a blanket more than a few inches to the right

Both Alphas froze

But you just blinked, and calmly moved Kid’s foot out of the way before rearranging the blanket

They both let out breaths they didn’t even know they’d been holding

Not even Killer could suppress his chuckle as you arranged them to lay down on either side of you, your warming body pressed between theirs

Kid smiled at your resting form as Killer tucked your hair behind your ear

You may be a bad ass little Omega, but you’re their bad ass little Omega

And they wouldn’t have it any other way

[blu-joons]

Our Little Girl ~ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Expecting Dad!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Slightly descriptive pregnancy, labour and birth

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Your little girl has been what the two of you have dreamt of for so long, finally the time has come to welcome her into the world with Jungkook by your side.

“You know, for a man that’s about to raise a daughter for the next eighteen years at least, you’re looking rather cocky.”

Jungkook could only smile from the other side of the room as a grimace danced upon your face at the feeling of another contraction hitting you. You’d lost count of the hours you’d been almost doubled over in bed some time ago, barely able to keep your eyes open at the excruciating pain that you found yourself in. With each passing breath, the gaps of relief that came between contractions became smaller and smaller, almost unbearable.

You’d watched plenty of documentaries before your pregnancy to know what to expect, and yet as you found yourself staring forwards at the figure of your husband, keeping his distance from your growing temper, none of what you saw on the television seemed to play out before you. Under watery eyes, you could just make out the time on the clock hanging just above Jungkook’s head, 3:15am.  You scoffed at the sight, doubting even in yourself how much longer you could go through such an ordeal. Despite the several months you’d had to lead up to this moment, not a single part of it could truly prepare you for what was to come.

As another struck against the pit of your stomach, Jungkook raced back across to your side, resting his hands over your reddened ones that gripped tightly onto the rails beside your bed. Murmurs of encouragement came from him, words you’d listened to him repeat for countless hours, and still each time they somehow managed to make your heart a little bit happier. As he counted you through the breaths to see you through, his free hand brushed over your hair, ignoring the beads of sweat that had formed in your hairline as best as he possibly could, focusing on the task at hand and being the best possible husband instead.

“You’re doing so incredibly well,” he whispered as he noticed that the pain was beginning to subside once again, offering you the best possibly smile he could muster, hiding his own feelings of exhaustion that were beginning to come through. Your head nodded, tilting slightly to the left, biting down on your bottom lip until you were sure that the contraction had subsided. A small wriggle from your little one let you know they were done for the time being, waiting patiently, or impatiently, to make their grand entrance.

“You’re getting close now,” your midwife called out, stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on the corridor as she had done for most of the evening, and night. “I must admit, I’ve not seen many women get through labour as well as you have for quite some time Y/N.”

“I’m not really left with much of an alternative to get through it right now,” you sighed, throwing your body back against the bed, allowing the sweat ridden sheets to wrap around you. The end never seemed to quite be in sight, no matter how many times her cheery voice suggested otherwise. In fact, if Jisoo wasn’t quite such a sweetheart, you’d have probably given her what for a long time ago with all of her reassurances.

“She’s a strong girl, I always told you that,” Jungkook whispered from the side of you, grinning proudly across at the elder woman. “So strong I think I might end up having to take up one of your beds soon with a couple of broken knuckles, are women supposed to squeeze this hard when they’re in labour?”

Jisoo’s head nodded, having told you about her four kids several times throughout the night, she had experience on both sides. She’d seen it all, broken hands, broken noses, but best of all, hundreds of humans enter the world.  

“Y/N you do what you want, ignore your husband,” she teased.

Once again, your head could only manage a nod, too consumed by the everchanging feelings that were going on around your bump to truly pay much attention to what was being said around you. The beep of the heart monitor, murmurs of passers-by, shrieks of other women in the ward all seemed to amalgamate into one at this point.

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait around much longer for baby to arrive,” she advised the two of you, “but things are only going to get worse, are you sure that I can’t get you anything?”

“No,” you muttered, despite a concerned Jungkook looking down at your tired figure, “I said that I was going to try and do this naturally, and until I can’t take it anymore, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“No one would think any less of you if you wanted an epidural,” Jungkook reminded you, moving his hand back across to rest over your now much calmer one. “Or maybe gas if you’re not feeling a needle? We saw it on that programme, remember?”

“We spent an hour laughing at a woman too high to even push,” you scolded, shaking your head at the memory. It had tickled you at the time, but the more you thought about not being able to remember your baby’s birth like she had, the more off-putting it became.

“It’s all here just in case,” Jisoo spoke up anyway, pointing across to a small table that was at the back of the delivery room, “too many women change their minds last minute and then we have to leap into action with it all.”

“I bet you might end up having another case like that, she’s a stubborn one,” Jungkook joked.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you- “

You were cut off by another pain stabbing against your side, hurling your body forwards, instantly gripping tighter onto Jungkook’s hand, causing him to yelp. He sat further up in his seat, throwing his free arm around your back, tracing circles against the exposed bit of skin your hospital gown showed off. Your body didn’t have much time to react, snapping your eyes around to look at Jungkook, searching for any bit of help he could offer. Instead, he could only stare helplessly back at you, there was nothing that he could do to truly take away your pain, nothing that would make the experience better for you in that moment, instead all he could promise was to be the best possible father and husband once your little girl eventually decided to come into the world.

As the pain fell aside once again, you leant across to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder, soaking his grey tee, not that he minded, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“So strong,” he whispered against your skin, as he had done tens, if not hundreds of times since your water broke in the very early hours of the previous day.

“I feel so weak,” you hummed in response to him, loosening your grip against his hand once again, holding onto only his index finger, admiring the tattoos that he wore so proudly. “I always thought I was strong Kook, but even this might be too much for me.”

His head shook instantly at your words, searching across to Jisoo for a small piece of reassurance that could remind you how good of a job you were doing in delivering your miracle.

“Soon,” her voice called out, although it wasn’t much, it was a small bit of hope that you could hold onto that your ordeal would be done soon. You adored Jungkook, but the calls of the professional who had taken such good care of you made you feel a lot better in an instant.

“Soon,” Jungkook reiterated, tightening the hold that he had around your waist, inviting you to relax into his side as opposed to the bed that you’d been on for hours. “This will all be worth it; you just have to remember that through the hard times.”

Another hum came from you, tracing aimlessly against his calloused skin. “I wish it was as easy for me to believe that as it is for you to say it right now.”

“Y/N,” he whispered, kissing against your forehead once again, “please don’t start giving up on any of this right now.”

“I’m just tired,” you whined, fighting the urge to give your eyes even a second to close out of fear of what might happen if you did. “Every part of me is so tired right now.”

“I get it,” Jungkook assured you, refusing to let you go through the fight alone, “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you right now my love.”

“Are you sure it’s too late for us to swap positions?” You joked, trying to remove the negativity that ran through your mind, “I think you’d love to be in labour secretly.”

“You know I would if I could, in a heartbeat,” he sniggered, raising his free hand up innocently, “it’s just such a shame that you’re the one that’s got to go through this. Trust me though, it’s not easy being a spectator, seeing you in so much pain is breaking my heart, I can only watch in awe of what an incredible woman you are.”

“You’ve got a good one there, Y/N,” Jisoo called out as she busied herself in the room, paperwork in hand, unable to stop herself tuning into your conversation. “You’d be surprised how many husbands sit back and relax during a time like this.”

“See, you’ve got a good one,” Jungkook continued to joke, tapping lightly against your arm, “can I get that in writing to remind her of this when this is all over?”

“I can change my mind,” Jisoo responded, drawing a light giggle out of you as the two of them continued to exchange innocent threats for a few minutes, until you chose to interrupt.

The mood of the room instantly turned sombre as a loud groan came from you, leaning forwards once again, breathing under the command of your husband. Whilst Jisoo continued to notice how much quicker your contractions came, Jungkook was solely focused on you, counting each time, resting his hands where you needed them, offering his shoulder back for you to rest on as soon as the contraction finished once again.

“I think I’ve decided something,” you whispered across to Jungkook once you’d caught your breath, “we are definitely only having the one child.”

“But I thought we agreed on an army,” he smirked, earning himself a slap against the bicep from you, although with your strength, the strike was pretty weak, even by your own high standards. Still, Jungkook grabbed at his arm, gasping at the sudden strength that had come over you. “Jisoo will tell you, I bet loads of women say that, but once they remember how sexy their husbands are, a quick trip to the bedroom, and suddenly baby number two comes along.”

“Have you ever met a man who makes sex sound so unappealing?” You asked Jisoo before she even had the time to respond to Jungkook’s comment. “It’s rather confident of you to assume that you’re that sexy anyway.”

Rather than answer either of you, Jisoo made her way across to you, asking Jungkook to give the two of you a bit of space as she checked how far dilated you were. You’d counted down almost every single centimetre, as if your little girl enjoyed teasing you before she was even a part of your world. Each time you hoped for the magic number, but each time Jisoo had muttered something else. You’d almost lost onto your last stretch of hope, that was until you looked across, noticing a wry smile etched across her face.

Before she even said the words, you knew exactly what the smile meant. As if your contractions hadn’t made things obvious enough, the expression on her face was the final touch you needed to know that at last that end was somewhat in sight. Once she called Jungkook back across to your side, his eyes locked with yours, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, extending his arm out for your hand to intertwine with his. The relief was clear on your face, and in your hold, your body was in turmoil, but now it seemed as if you could finally begin to settle.

You were all too aware that there was a long road ahead of you, but just the thought of pushing appealed to your body and every part of you that was crying out for a rest.

“Ten centimetres,” Jungkook whispered beside you, “I bet that feels pretty good.”

“It feels pretty good,” you smirked, keeping your eyes on him as he sat back down in the chair at your bedside. “I had no idea the body could stretch as big as this, it’s surreal.”

Although he hadn’t taken too close of a look at everything that was going on at the foot of your bed, Jungkook had done enough research to know just how your body was changing. From the very first sign of a bump, Jungkook had waited impatiently for the moment that he finally got to see your little girl come into the world, the final change that would complete what the two of you had dreamt of for so many months.

“I love you,” his voice then whispered, just as your eyes looked away from his and down to your bump, “and our baby, I love our baby too.”

“I love you too,” you smiled, quickly looking back at him, “our little one is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

What came over the next few minutes felt like a blur to you, several instructions were sent your way, your body reshuffled with your legs propped up, pillows placed behind your back, and a towel dabbed against your head, but one thing remained, the hold of Jungkook’s hand tightly against yours, refusing to leave your side as the first few pushes began.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, just after the first few. You’d hoped for some sort of immediate impact, but your baby made no sign of movement instead. If you hadn’t spent hours laid in the hospital bed, you would have given up there and then, but there was one man that was never going to let you do that.

“Patience,” was all that Jungkook had to say, desperate to try and calm you down as he noticed how flustered you became. His hands pressed against your red cheeks before wiping underneath your watery eyes, failing to withhold the pressures that were placed before you.

Whilst labour was never something you expected to be a walk in the park, you could never have prepared yourself for the overwhelming feelings of pain that you’d end up enduring throughout your labour.

“If I push one more time, my body is going to cave,” you admitted, leaning against the cold metal of the rail against the bed. Jungkook’s head instantly shook, moving his arm around you to pick you back up, holding your back against the palm of his large hand.

“You’re far too strong to give up now,” he smiled, standing up from his chair to press a kiss against the side of your head, “there’s still pain relief if you want it, no one is going to think any less of you if that’s what you choose to do,” he reminded you once again, but still your head shook, you’d had plans for how your labour was going to go, and a natural birth was always top of your list of things that you wanted to see through. “Just hold my hand, and don’t break any of my bones and I promise that we’ll get through this together.”

Your eyes rolled at his warning, pinching especially hard against his hand to keep him on his toes, and make sure that he kept his mouth shut too.

“I’m only messing with you,” he whimpered, shaking at your hand for you to loosen your grip around him. “Just try and keep positive babe, we’ve jumped over too many hurdles over the past day to give up now. This one might just be a little bit bigger, but I know more than anything else in the world that you’re going to get over it.”

Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, letting go of a shaky breath in the hope that it would keep you so composed. Rather than focus on the pain that came from your bump, your mind focused on the traces that Jungkook ran along the back of your hand, just like you’d done against his only a couple of hours ago.

“I just want to hold her and be done with this,” you continued to vent, opening your eyes back up, flinching slightly at the bright lights that came from all four corners of the room you’d somehow ended up calling home.

“I mean it when I say not much longer this time,” Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, perched on a stool, keeping a close eye on proceedings. “It’s natural to feel like you want to throw in the towel, there’s often a bit of a wait between dilation and pushing, not feeling anything can sometimes feel worse than the pain of a contraction.”

“You’re spot on,” you responded, forcing the smallest of smiles to your face, hearing a gentle giggle come from Jungkook. “At least the pain let me know that she was definitely moving.”

As if on cue, your baby began to make her presence known again, with Jungkook rising to his feet once again when he noticed how quickly you shot forwards. His arm reached out across your chest to stop you moving too far forwards, just as Jisoo had advised.

Something about this contraction just felt different for you though, as if your little girl was giving you a sign that she really was on her way. Although you couldn’t feel her drop, the pain certainly did. The smile on your face instantly captured Jungkook’s attention, unsure if he should worry, or be pleased to see a sign of happiness in your expression.

“I can feel her,” you whispered across to him before he even had the chance to ask, “it’s like she’s letting me know she’s on her way Kook.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He anxiously queried, looking across to Jisoo who’s head nodded. “She really is on her way, our little girl.”

“Our little girl,” you repeated, feeling his hands press to either side of your face, just managing to press the softest of kisses against your puckered lips before another contraction hit. His left arm instantly moved around your waist as his right hand held onto yours, it had become second nature for Jungkook now to step each time that your body called out for him, a murmur of his name was all that he needed to know exactly what you wanted from him, and as another contraction passed, he was relieved when he could sit back down again.

As soon as it passed, both you and Jungkook stared across to Jisoo, desperate for any sort of update she had on how things were going.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she assured you, “plenty of pushes coming up Y/N.”

“R-really?”

“Hey,” a deep voice whispered beside you, brushing his thumb back across the pad of your hand, drawing your eyes across to him with the sound of your voice. “It’s going to be alright, we’ve talked about all of this, the two of us are here, and very soon our little girl will be here soon, remember why you’re doing this Y/N.”

“Pushing feels so real,” you slightly chuckled, feeling the beat of your heart quicken in your chest, “are you sure it’s really time to push?”

“Absolutely,” a cheery Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, repositioning your legs slightly so that you were a little more stretched out. “When the next contraction comes, I want you to take a big deep breath, and then lots of little pushes, let your body guide you rather than you guide your body. Listen to my voice, and most of all, listen to Jungkook too, he sounds like he has all the right things to say to you.”

“That’s exactly how we got into this position,” you sighed, shooting a glare in his direction.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly how you’re going to get out of this position too,” Jisoo grinned, shaking her head as Jungkook leaned forwards to try and give her a high five. “Just support your wife,” she smiled, “I’ve spent less then a day with this guy and I’m struggling to see how you’ve managed to put up with him for so many years.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you called out, just as another contraction came. The mutters of ‘push,’ that came from both of the people beside you instantly set your body in motion, clutching tightly onto the rail, and Jungkook’s hand as you tried to push down as best as you could, grimacing at the pain.

By the time the contraction had passed, you could feel how quickly your bottom lip was beginning to swell, pouting across at Jungkook, who was unable to hide his surprise when he noticed how red your lip was.

“Still beautiful,” he complimented, leaning forwards once again to press a kiss against the reddened skin, “and so strong too. Who knew I managed to marry such a strong woman?” He questioned, receiving no answer from either of you. It came as little surprise to him, instead he grabbed the towel that was beside him and dabbed it gently over your forehead, and your lip too, trying to make the swelling as minimal as possible before you bit down again.

As another contraction soon came around, you couldn’t quite get your head around at how surreal it was suddenly all becoming. You’d sat with your little girl nested in your tummy for two days short of nine months, and now you could slowly feel her making her way down to enter the world. All of the fears and the doubts that you’d had about labour had been torn apart, your dreams had been blown so far out of proportion, no part of what you were doing felt real anymore. But for the two of you, it felt like the best, and worst, experience in the world, the pain had been hard, but slowly it was beginning to feel as if it was worth it for you both.

When the next contraction came around, the sound of Jisoo’s voice stopped you from biting down on your bottom lip, feeling her hand move a little further up your leg, carefully pushing your legs a little further apart, surprising even you by how flexible you suddenly were.

“I can feel something,” you nervously whispered, looking across to Jungkook who was trying to get the best look he could at what was going on from beside you.

“No need to worry,” Jisoo instantly replied to you, “but I can definitely see the first signs of your little girl.”

“Really?” You chuckled, feeling Jungkook’s head turn to look back across at you. His eyes looked at you for permission, as your head slowly nodded, encouraging him to stand up from his seat and walk across, peering over your leg to where the first sightings of your little one’s head could be seen. A quiet gasp came from Jungkook, squeezing gently against your hand, feeling his eyes watering at the sight before him.

“She already looks beautiful,” he whispered up to you, “I can’t believe she’s all ours Y/N.”

“I wish I could see,” you chuckled, trying your hardest to look past your bump, but failing with ease. You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the times you’d failed to see your feet, or bend down to change your shoes, only now, at the most important time, your bump had stopped you from getting your first glimpse of your little girl. A small part of you couldn’t help but be slightly envious that Jungkook had such a clear view from beside you of everything that was going on.

However, as soon as your next contraction hit, Jungkook’s attentions were turned straight back to you, sitting back down in a heartbeat as more encouraging whispers came from him. He’d never told you how proud and how in love he was with you than he had done today, but he also knew he could never love you more than the moment you brought his child into the world.

The late nights, early mornings, and everything that came in between during your pregnancy had been hard on you both, but everything that you needed from Jungkook, he did with a smile. He could never appreciate enough how incredible your body was to carry his little girl, to nurture her so perfectly and give her such good health. There was simply never going to be enough that he could do to repay you for everything that you’d given him over the last nine months, and for the rest of his life too.

“Y/N, keep pushing!” Jisoo’s voice called out, snapping you out of the small daydream that you found yourself in. By the sound of her voice, you knew that something significant was happening, with adrenaline the only thing keeping you going, you did as she said, pushing as hard as you could, paying close attention to the sound of Jungkook’s voice, the only thing that had kept you going through out.

“She’s coming,” he whispered, flickering his eyes between you and your baby, noticing how quickly she seemed to be arriving. Your head nodded, repeating his words over and over again in your head, the only boost of motivation that you needed to dig in to somewhere you didn’t know you had, using up every last ounce of energy that you possibly could.

“Kook,” you whimpered, as you felt the contraction begin to collapse again.

“Just one more,” Jisoo then called out.

“You can do it,” he urged, leaning closer in towards you.

Although your head shook, your body still pushed, and soon the cries of your little girl could be heard ringing throughout the room, as tears fell from both yours and Jungkook’s eyes, feeling his hand slip out of yours so that you could collapse down against the bed.

“I love you, you’re incredible,” he chimed, giving you a moment before leaning over you, brushing the hair out of your face, coupled with a lingering kiss against your forehead, ignoring the droplets of tears that fell from his cheeks against your own. “She’s here Y/N.”

In just a matter of moments, Jungkook moves away from your side, replaced with your little girl settling against your bare chest, with Jisoo dabbing away at her to remove the markings of blood, stretching out of her limbs and making sure to clear out her airways.

As your eyes looked down at her for the very first time, your breath was taken by what was before you. “Wow,” was all you could whisper as you studied every fine detail of the bundle you held tightly against your chest. “Look at you,” you soon added, sniffling back the tears that fell.

Jungkook’s hand reached across, wiping underneath your eyes, perching himself on the end of his bed. He used the tip of his thumb to trace over the top of her head, feeling along her arms, staring in awe of how tiny each digit of her hand was. Neither of you could look away from her, all expectation you had had been succeeded, unable to comprehend what you had just endured.

“Our little girl,” Jungkook whispered, leaving a kiss against the top of your head with his words. It had been the saying you’d had for her since the moment you found out it was a girl that you were expecting, and yet somehow neither of you could correlate that the little girl you’d wished for was finally in front of you both.

“Congratulations,” Jisoo spoke after a few moments, scribbling down on some papers attached to her clipboard. “I’ll give you both a second to adjust, you’re new parents after all.”

“We’re parents,” Jungkook muttered in a moment of disbelief, continuing to stare wide-eyed at your daughter, silently reiterating the promises he’d made to her most nights when he laid beside your bump, trying to help you get to sleep. Although she was still attached to you for a moment through the umbilical cord, his body was itching to get his first hold of his little girl, feel the body and the heart he was going to protect for the rest of his life. “Thank you,” he whispered across to you once he finally looked away from her, “it’s never going to be enough, but thank you for being so strong, and for being the best wife, and mum in the world.”

“How can you say that when I’ve only been a mum for five minutes?” You teased, bringing a smile to Jungkook’s face. His eyes rolled at the chuckle that followed your question, knowing if it wasn’t for your little one, he’d be attacking your side in an instant.

“I just know, call it instinct,” he assured you, “and I’m going to make sure that this little girl knows what a special mummy she’s got to. I’ll never let her take you for granted, just like I never will, ever again. I’m in your debt forever, nothing can make up for all of this.”

“You know, we can’t call her our little girl forever,” you hummed, noticing how quickly Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Several had been exchanged between the two of you, and yet one always seemed to stand out to you both, almost as if it was just meant to be, her name was her destiny.

“Is it still the one that you want?” Jungkook asked, making sure you didn’t have any doubts.

“Just looking at her, she suits it,” you hummed, taking any excuse that you could to get a glance of your daughter. “Don’t you think, it’s perfect for her?”

Jungkook’s head nodded, leaning across your body to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, treating her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world. As her name fell from his lips for the very first time, Jungkook knew you were right, it was perfect for her, and the perfect name to complete your family too.

“Can you believe we have her forever?” You asked him, brushing your thumb over the top of her head, “we don’t ever have to give this one back, or keep her only for a night. We never have to let her go, she’s ours, always.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever believe that I’ve been so blessed with the two of you,” he giggled in his confession, “every day, my little girl, and my incredible wife, I will love you.”

“She’ll have you wrapped around her finger in no time, I bet,” you laughed, “if she’s anything like you, we might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now, because she’ll be causing trouble in no time.”

“I hope she takes after you,” Jungkook acknowledged, staring back at you, “everyone will fall in love with her, just like I did with you.”

“Do you still love me after I almost broke your hand?” You teased, staring across at his still slightly reddened hand.

“Y/N, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I’ll love you more and more every day. You’ve given me the greatest gift, love just isn’t enough.”

“We love you too,” you smiled across to him, feeling his lips peck against yours.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

---

Masterlist

[animatedrapture]

"VORFREUDE."

Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3

If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.

You’re a constant, Sakusa thinks.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been following him and Komori like a lost puppy—whenever they were, you were sure to be there. He can’t think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.

He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so often—he knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.

"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.

Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.

Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.

First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.

Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.

Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.

It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcage—but whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.

A whore.

As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.

"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.

Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you know—"

The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happen—but that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.

"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.

"O-oh right, but—but I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kun—"

The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.

Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smile—sheepish and apologetic—he's so kind, he's always so kind.

Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.

Somehow, though, the closer you got to him—past his defenses and indifference towards you—the meaner he's gotten.

You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.

But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusa’s degrading remarks.

You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.

"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"

He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."

You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.

You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his space—something he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.

And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.

Since he's so nice—nicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want… Right?

Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that you’re nothing but his property.

But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.

Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.

When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that he’ll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but he’d always catch on.

Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.

After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach—churning and thrashing—because no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that you’re actually scared of him.

Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you with—the way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him off—always commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.

But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.

So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldn’t hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldn’t hurt you.

The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it should’ve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.

You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.

Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.

“Hey, Motoya-kun. What’s up?” You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komori’s stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.

He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and it’s awkward in an adorable sort of way. He’s walking beside you along the corridor, it’s slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.

“Ah, well…” He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, “I was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened café tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,” He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.

It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.

Your heart hammers out of fear of him—but with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.

Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.

"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.

Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.

"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.

The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.

"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.

The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.

"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."

Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves up—but you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.

The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.

Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like they’re warning you.

Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and it’s bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you he’s excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusa—not beating around the bush, it says nothing but ‘9 AM.’

It’s firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesn’t come easy—not even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.

It’s not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, it’s the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.

Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.

You think the next hour couldn’t come any quicker, because you’re fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, there’s goosebumps rising against your bare skin.

Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine o’clock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open it—and even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.

You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, “You look nice today.”

The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come by—only because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.

Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, he’s a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komori’s cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.

“Thank you, Sakusa-kun…” You trail off, hesitating on your next words, “You look nice today, too.”

And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.

As abrupt as it appeared, he’s already turning away, “Hurry up,” he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelings—the ones that reminded him he’s so in love with you and that you’re the cause of warmth in chest.

Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesn’t attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldn’t it?

You know you’re dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesn’t know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.

Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.

You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relax—just enough to make you think that this might go well.

Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.

It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now… Right?

Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to you—that's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.

The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusa—lips pressed against yours and body so close.

But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.

"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstood—I like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean to—this is—" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.

Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of it—the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He should’ve known.

All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.

His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting me—please," and still, he doesn't let up.

Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floor—his foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.

Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force you’re putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course he’s stronger. Of course, but you can’t possibly accept this, can you?

You made Sakusa yearn—disgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.

So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.

"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-ku—!"

You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.

"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe you…"

He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"

The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.

"You–I, I didn't—"

At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."

"That's not true, Sakusa—"

He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.

The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.

"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."

Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheek—hard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. You’re not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punch—all that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.

It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldn’t date him. Of course you wouldn’t. Sluts like you go for guys like Komori—so he’d just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.

Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.

Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that you’re a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.

What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusa’s movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.

"W-what are you doing?”

It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like this—that even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.

It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the same—wants you all to himself all the same.

"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.

“Let’s talk about this, Omi? Please?” You cry, searching for his eyes—the ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if he’s in a trance where he can’t hear you groveling at him to stop.

Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.

The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but it’s the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.

Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.

“K-Kiyoomi, it feels weird—stop, please,” yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, “Don’t—Not there—N-no one has touched—”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re a virgin?” His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.

And it’s wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because you’re moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger he’s slowly sinking into you.

The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusa’s mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrations—fingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and there’s a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.

“You’re so filthy,” he mutters, but he looks at you like you’re the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.

You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouth—the taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, “No more—please, I don’t want this.” you weep, muffled.

“Suck,” he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.

“Suck,” he repeats, and you relent.

Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.

Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cock—hard and flushed at the tip—your hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.

He’s quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing what’s to come doesn’t prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet folds—cockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.

Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the pain—your head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.

He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.

“You make desperation look so pretty,” he groans, “You’re making such a mess, you like being forced like this?”

He insults you, but you’re everything he always wanted and more—the taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.

Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you don’t allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.

“O-Omi, please,” you sob, weak and submissive—just how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. “I-I’m gonna—I think I—”

“Y-you really are a whore,” he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. “Do it, then. Cum on my cock.”

His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.

His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.

You want to cry—but nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusa’s cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.

Maybe Sakusa’s right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking it’s all over—Sakusa doesn’t undo the ties keeping you on the bed.

He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.

“Omi—?” Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesn’t need to hear your question.

“You’re my girlfriend now…” He mutters carelessly, “but I’m sure you don’t want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?”

[soulwillower]

housesitting •  richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe. 

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home. 

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and  you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.' 

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner. 

because good god, that was an awful trip. 

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away. 

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer. 

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend. 

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?" 

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends). 

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment." 

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and- 

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm. 

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am."  "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap. 

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face. 

- 

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment. 

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window. 

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits. 

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize. 

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand. 

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine. 

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head. 

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time." 

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently. 

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for. 

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?" 

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him.  "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle. 

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully. 

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll." 

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night." 

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap. 

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour. 

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?" 

he hums, eyeing you but not responding. 

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?" 

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep." 

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie." 

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum." 

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah." 

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you. 

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow. 

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?” 

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face. 

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.  

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you." 

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need. 

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed. 

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing. 

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs. 

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you." 

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer. 

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen. 

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will. 

“you’re hot.” you blurt. 

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms. 

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds. 

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants." 

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release. 

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?" 

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you, 

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?" 

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips. 

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good. 

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly. 

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a  slut.” 

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please. 

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing. 

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly, 

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers. 

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back. 

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own. 

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me." 

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck. 

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?" 

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut." 

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit. 

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently. 

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere." 

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me." 

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good." 

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere." 

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door. 

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass. 

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high. 

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly. 

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that." 

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen." 

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.” 

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters  @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

[earlgreydream]

brat.

| Bucky Barnes x reader | smut |

warnings: smut, mild degradation (not meant seriously), spanking, dom/sub dynamic, general chaos

a/n: I can’t deal with the pressure of my life, I need James Buchanan Barnes to make me let it go

Bucky had been agitated since you had sent him naughty photos of yourself while he was in the middle of a meeting. He had glanced at his phone and immediately turned it face down and continued speaking. After the meeting, he sat at his desk, looking at the photos you’d sent. His favorite was one where you had your tits out, wearing just little black panties, along with a black ribbon tied around your neck.

He’d originally been the one to tie the ribbon around your neck, about a year ago. He’d hooked his fingers in the satin and dragged you forward like it was a collar, making you blush and shy.

Now, you wore the ribbon around your neck whenever you were in the particular mood for Bucky to make you feel owned.

You were always under constant stress and pressure to perform well, having to control and manage everything, both at work and school. The only place where you could let it go, relinquish all control, was in the bedroom with Bucky... or on the kitchen counters, the bathroom of a club, his desk at work, and anywhere else he could get his hands on you.

When you were alone with Bucky, you became playful, soft, and sweet, and it turned him on to no end. Bucky truly thought you were the most gorgeous and hottest girl in the universe, and he practically worshipped you.

That is, except when you were being a needy brat, like today. Sending him naughty photos at work (unprompted) was strictly against your rules, and you knew you played a dangerous game with him. Bucky wasn’t one to play around when it came to testing the boundaries.

Secretly, that was why you did it. You wanted Bucky riled up, to come home and be rough with you. You wanted him hard and unrelenting, to have you screaming and writhing for him. You were tense from your stressful week, and he was too, and there was no better solution in your mind to release that built up tension.

He shut off his phone as his boss walked in, asking him about a project, and Bucky struggled to focus on what he was being told, too distracted by the image of your soft tits swirling in his mind.

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Yeah, sure.” He called back half-heartedly, picking his phone back up once he was alone.

~you’re going to fucking regret that, baby~

~I doubt it. X~

He was practically seething at your response, ideas of how to get you in line already forming. He was fed up with your bratty attitude, and his annoyance just built over the course of the afternoon.

When he was finally finished with work, he drove home faster than normal. The door smacked loudly against the wall when he entered, alerting you he was mad. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you felt a pang of regret at your insolence.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice echoed, and you nervously walked down the hallway in one of his oversized button downs.

He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and meek, innocent in his big shirt. Ribbon was tied around the base of your neck, and your eyes were shining as you gazed up at him.

“Hi, daddy”

He almost melted at the sweet sound of your voice, at the utter innocence you seemed to hold. He dropped his keys in the dish by the door, snapping out of it. He stared at you with a hard gaze, entirely unamused by your earlier behavior. You sank into yourself, taking a step back. He stepped forward, and you continued until he had backed you against the wall outside of your guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Bucky asked you, waiting for an apology.

I’m sorry daddy, is what you should have said, attempting to win over the last bit of forgiveness he was willing to give you. Instead, you decided to dig yourself into deeper trouble, unable to resist the temptation to goad him by being a brat.

“I could’ve gotten myself off in the time it took you to get home, maybe even more than-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he was on you.

He hooked his fingers into the ribbon, jerking your small body against his. His silver eyes blazed, threatening you to struggle.

“Do you think you’re fucking funny?” He growled, and you stared back at him, suppressing your fear.

“A little, actually.”

That did it.

“Get on your fucking knees, you insolent brat!” He snapped, jerking you downwards so you were kneeling in front of him.

Your knees bit into the hardwood floor, and the ribbon left a faint red ring around your neck from him dragging you by it. His hand went up your neck to your cheek, and you flinched as he sharply tapped your face. It wasn’t enough to be a slap, Bucky would never hit you in a way you didn’t like, but the sharp smack made arousal drip from your core.

You wanted him to run his fingers through your hair to guide you, like he did when he was feeling softer, but you knew that you’d pushed him too far to receive any sort of help.

He grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open before burying himself in your throat. He did it in one quick movement that had you gagging, choking on his length. Bucky didn’t care about your fight to breathe, snapping his hips at a brutal pace, stretching your throat. You did your best to open for him, but tears slid down your cheeks from your lack of oxygen.

“Y/N, look at you, letting me fuck your throat like a little whore.” His words dripped with condescension and you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations that pushed him closer to the edge.

“You’re going to swallow, got it?” He ordered and you made a noise of approval, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. He came in thick spurts, his cock deep in your throat. You swallowed his seed as well as possible, gasping as he pulled out of you. You lost your balance and put a hand on his thigh to steady you. He stepped back, letting you fall forward, barely catching yourself.

You whined in protest, and he grabbed you by the hair and jerked your head back to look up at him. Your chest was heaving as you drew in oxygen, your face was sticky with tears, and your mouth was salty with his taste.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me," Bucky's tone was mocking, a slight Russian accent hanging off his words, a silent threat hanging in the air.

"I did so good, sucking you off like you wanted-" you were about to ask if he'd take care of you now, and he just let out a short laugh.

"You think you're getting off?" He spoke as if it were completely ridiculous.

"Yes?" You tried, and he shook his head.

"Then you shouldn't have been such a little brat. Brats don't get to come."

"But daddy-!" You whined in protest.

Your mouth snapped shut when he dragged you up to your feet and tore his button down off of you. You shivered in the cold air, and his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

"You're fucking soaked, Y/N. Is this just from sucking me off?" He embarrassed you.

"Y/N!" He snapped when you didn't answer, fed up with your disobedience.

"Yes," you breathed, blinking back fresh tears of anxiety.

"I'll give you something to cry about." He threatened and you bit your lip, knowing it wasn't an empty threat.

"Safeword?" he asked, making sure you were able to communicate with him if it was too much.

"Falcon," you answered obediently and he nodded. He took your wrists in his hands, noticing the way your hands were trembling. He kissed your smooth skin, though his gaze didn't soften.

"On the bed. Now." He pointed, and you bent over the edge of the bed, your ass on display for him. You hid your face in your arms, hiding the embarrassment visible on your cheeks from being so exposed.

A shaky whine escaped as you heard his belt snap, fear prickling up your spine. He watched you squirm on the bed. He knew you hated being smacked with the belt, and he leaned against the wall, watching you nearly lose your mind in anticipation. He was curious to see if you'd continue the bratty behavior, or if this was what would finally cause you to break, and his fingers twitched as he ached to turn your ass pink.

As soon as the tension began to leave your body, and you settled on the mattress, he landed the first blow with the leather on your ass. You screamed both from shock, and the welcome pain that blossomed across your skin.

His dark laughter echoed in your guest bedroom, and chills made your body shudder. You were getting what you wanted, this had been your goal from the beginning. You also knew that you were completely safe, that Bucky loved you dearly, and this was just a bedroom scene, not meant to truly hurt you. Despite both of those facts, the fear was very much real. Bucky was incredibly intimidating, especially when he was mad.

"Four more, alright?"

"Yes, daddy."

Dry sobs burned your throat as he spanked you quickly, leaving pink stripes across your fair skin, but light enough they'd disappear by morning. It was more psychological than physical, and it was causing you to nearly shake with arousal. It was dripping down your legs, and Bucky noticed, adding to the shame of just being spanked. He took a step toward you, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you whimper in discomfort. He slapped your skin, and you struggled to contain your pained yelps. It wasn’t near as bad as the belt, but the sting spread through your skin as he continued your punishment. 

You sighed in relief when he finally finished, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you up so your back was against his chest. He gave your throat a squeeze, making your eyes roll back. He kissed your shoulder before biting down into your smooth skin. You squirmed in his grip, mewling softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking up and meeting his gaze. 

“I know you are, baby,” He kissed your mouth for the first time, and you melted into his hold, ignoring your soreness. 

“Hands and knees for me, doll.” 

He released his grip on you, lightly tapping your thigh to get you to climb up on the bed. You moved onto the bed, but your arms were unsteady, so you dropped down to your elbows, letting your back arch.

“Can’t hold myself up,” you murmured apologetically, not wanting him to think that you were being bratty. He kissed your bum, and you sighed quietly at the tender action. 

“I want to come, daddy,” you begged, hoping he had softened.

“I’m sure you do.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that you weren’t going to get what you want. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your hips, holding you steady as he stood behind you. You squirmed as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, a choked noise leaving your throat as he brushed your clit. You were on edge, but you knew if you spilled over, he would spank you until you were bleeding.

He noticed the shudder it caused, and his voice came deep and threatening. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I won’t!” you promised, wanting to be good for him. 

“Better not.” 

He thrusted forward, rolling his hips until he was buried all the way in you, making you yell and grip the sheets in front of you. The stretch burned, your body never quite getting used to his size. Usually he eased into you, but he clearly didn’t care about your pleasure right now. 

He began to snap his hips against yours, using your body to chase his own release. His hands slipped off of your hips and snaked around to your front, going up to your breasts. He squeezed roughly and pinched your nipples, pulling them between his fingers, making your vision spark. You shrieked at the sensation, and you tightened around him. You held back your orgasm, fighting against the urge to release. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me, doll. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m going to lose my mind,” Bucky murmured, his words getting lost in your mind.

You tightened around him purposely, feeling him twitch before painting your insides with his release. He groaned deeply, continuing with shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into your heat. When he pulled out, he stared at your swollen sex, his release dripping out, and down your thighs. You screamed as he slapped the sensitive area, arching your back. You whimpered out a beg to ease up on you, and he moved you to lay on your back. You were barely there, whimpering out apologies pathetically, and he kissed a line from your belly up to your lips.

“You’re forgiven, doll.” He said, kissing you sweetly.

“Please, I’ll be so good.” You were desperate, throbbing around nothing, and you wanted to release the tension your body held so bad.

Bucky watched you beg, almost inclined to put his head back between your legs.

“Fine.” He sat on the bed, pulling you to straddle his thigh. You looked at him in confusion as he held your hips down.

“You can ride my thigh and get off that way, or you can quit complaining.”

Your eyes widened, and your face burned in humiliation. You hesitated for a moment before giving into your needs, rolling your hips and dragging your core over his thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as he quietly mocked you and how desperate you were. Your thighs started to shake, and he bounced his leg, making you come with a scream as you bit down lightly on his shoulder. 

“Daddy, no,” you complained as his hand snaked down to pinch your clit, sending shocks through you.

“Watch your mouth.” He ordered, grabbing your jaw in his free hand, disapproving of your protests. He overstimulated you, turning your pleasure into torture. You struggled to catch your breath as you writhed on his lap, begging him to let you ease up. You swore at him, and he smacked your already stinging core. You yelped at the pain, letting him have his way, too exhausted to protest further. 

You could’ve cried again as he finally eased up, deciding you had adequately paid for your misbehavior. After, he spent the entire evening showering you with attention, showing his soft side and loving on you.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)

gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀

read part one and two! | my masterlist

a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤

love, abi xxx

tagging: @datewithgianni

prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me

John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.

His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.

He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.

A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.

He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.

***

John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.

However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.

There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.

"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."

He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"

"I came to see you."

He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.

"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."

You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.

"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."

You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.

You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.

You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.

"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.

He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"

"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.

"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What are you fucking on about, love?"

"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."

John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.

"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"

He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.

"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.

"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.

He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.

"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.

"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.

"University up north does sommet to a woman."

"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."

"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."

He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"

"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."

"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"

"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."

He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.

"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"

"No, I figured that out on my own actually."

"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."

"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.

"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.

“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.

"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.

"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.

"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.

"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.

"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.

"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.

“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.

You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.

“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.

“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.

***

You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.

"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."

"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.

"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.

"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.

"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.

"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"

"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."

"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."

"Since you asked so nicely."

"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.

Shame you could only pick him once.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Play Time

Pairing | Elizabeth Olsen x reader

Summary | ‘Play time’, as it is described, is not for your own wandering hands. It is for you to succumb and be under your partner’s control, however, when she is not present, you take matters into your own hands, - literally.

Warnings | smut, spanking, masturbation, swearing, slight degradation, oral sex (fem receiving ofc), mummy kink

Requested ☑️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

There was a tension driving your actions, albeit though they were forbidden. It was obvious that Lizzie would be disappointed into your will to give into your own greed, however she wasn’t here, and you had enough time to bust an orgasm out. She wouldn’t have to know.

That was a mistake on your part, and you’d have known that if you had thought with your brain rather than your hungry cunt. Lizzie always reminded you that that was your insatiable flaw, and that was why she was the dominant counterpart rather than you.

If she were left in your own devices, then your own orgasm would remain to be your own priority, and she wouldn’t get much love. And that was certainly something that she could not have.

And so, you were laid in the nude upon your shared bed, your head reeling back at the stimulating sensations that your nimble fingers blessed upon your clit. It admittedly felt good; there was no aspect of teasing, or the sound of taunting above.

It was just... perfect. The only downside was, that the hands belonged to you, and were not those of Lizzie. But she would never touch you so gently, nor dream or giving you what you wanted straight away. There was a thrill that came with doing something that she would be strongly opposed to.

She craved the influence of the power that she had over your body, and how she had the ability to make it bend and break to her every whim. It wasn’t unusual for her to use the description of a ‘brat’ in regards to you, and it clearly was a suitable resolution in thinking of you, all things considered.

You were, knowingly, going against her strict demands, but worst of all, it was rule number one that you had broken. Do not touch yourself. That heightened a spark throughout your entirety, knowing that you were doing something bad, and deserving of being called a brat, or something worse.

But nevertheless, in all your disobedience, you continued revealing yourself in the addiction of control, pumping your slim fingers in and out of your entrance, with the assistant of your thumb providing a string of perfectly adjusted chords to reverberate through your body.

Too preoccupied basking in the glory of the climax that you were striving towards, you had not feigned to notice the silhouette leaning disappointedly against the ajar door frame, her arms crossed against her chest.

“Yes.” Heavy breaths lay abandon to your chest, the movements of your fingers faltering in their rhythm as they twitched under the flow of the pumping blood running through your ecstatic veins. With one last thrust of your paired fingers, a mewl fled from your mouth, confirming the end of your orgasm. “Holy fuck.”

“Indeed.” Lizzie squinted, stepping forward, her sudden appearance promoting wide eyes upon your face, and causing you to whip your hands away from yourself, digging their tips into the covered mattress. “And it appears that you’ve been a very bad girl, breaking mummy’s rules whilst she was away. How... bratty!”

At her specific, and degrading terminology, a whimper surpassed the insides of your mouth, as your body cradled into itself, embarrassed by the exposure that you were broadcasting to her, albeit by accident. It was clear, that you had been caught in the cross hairs of being red handed, and so, the same colour reflected in a hue upon your body, pressing through your skin in regard to the shy heat.

“Liz-“ she fixed you with a stern look, the borderline dominance flickering through her emerald hues. “Mummy.” Biting your lip, you slowly, filled with cautiousness, crawled upon the bed, and towards the woman that often instructed you in what to do. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

A tut sampled from her pink mouth, enforcing you to bow your head in slight shame. It was inevitable that she was to find out about your individually orchestrated solution to get off, but it made it that much worse, for it was not a second hand discovery.

Instead, she had watched with grave eyes how you fell apart under the collapse of your own touch. Each fluid motion that you had entrusted yourself with delivering was viewed through her stealthy and hawk like eyes. And that meant, there was no solution in trying to deny her deaf accusations, for she had served witness to your lonesome relief.

“No, it won’t.” She agreed, lightly shoving you out of her way, causing you to jolt back by the act, so that she could perch herself into a sitting position on the end of the mattress that was weighted down with many intimate occasions. “You know what to do.”

Lacking any reluctance, you followed her contextual demand, laying in your middle across her apparently inviting lap, your front composed in a floppy manner on one side, and your body half mirroring it on the other.

She trailed her cursive hands down your spine, evoking the appearance of goose bumps to poke out of your barren skin. It was far too well known what awaited you in the concept of her actions, and it had you inwardly wincing.

“See, that’s you being good. Good girls do what they’re told.” It was her successful attempt of taunting you; her outwardly confirming that you were no such thing. “How many?” From experience, you knew that it was a rhetorical consideration, Lizzie was speaking more to herself by it than she was you.

“Please don’t...” the corner of your eyes wept lightly at the thought of what was to come. The thought provoked a sincere yet arousing fear within your chamber of pleasure and fertility. No matter though how much your tried to pardon yourself for your languid mistake, it would never be enough - you knew that, from a collision of experience and logic.

Your attempts though served as vigil fuel to her scarlet fire, and whether she noticed or not, it was uncertain. But despite her possible obliviousness to it, she struck your ass with a relatively hard hand, pulling a mused squeak to tumble helplessly from your heaving mouth, that was attempting to keep the moan within its confines.

“Thank you mummy.” It rolled from your tongue deliriously, like a rehearsed line. Her hand smoothed over the place of which she had spanked, soothing the slight sting, before collaborating her hand unto your skin once more, n the same abused patch of skin. “Fuck!

In a timeless instant, she swatted you once more, causing a salty drop to cascade from your urgent eye. “Remember, only brats use language like that towards their mummies.” It was something that you had a good memory of, but the sworn word had made an appearance to your own dismay.

It had been a thoughtless spew of inconvenience, one that had dug yourself into a spiralling of trouble, and resulted in thus more pain permitted onto the section of your reddened and hand printed behind. “I think we may have to continue this, unless, you have any other ideas, baby?”

Your tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, before you even considered answering. Y doing so, you could taste the salt that had dripped down from the bridge o your nose, and descending down you body in an orderly fashion to reach your slick centre.

It was a frustrating concept though, regarding your eager to please pussy. There was no attention drawn to anything on that end of you; instead, all LIzzie wanted was to hear you speak, and pathetically jumble around with words to spill the perfect answer. All you had to do, was think of how a good girl would respond.

“I’ll do anything.” Your voice was hoarse - desperate. And the vocal feature intrigued Lizzie, and so she rolled you onto the bed beside her, gently grasping the side of your face whilst playing with disarrayed hairs that curled across your cheek.

“Anything?” She repaeated for confirmation; safe to say, she was intrigued. After all, she wanted to experience the efforts that you would go to in order to make it up to her. And so, with tidal integrity, she pierced her green orbs into your own, awaiting another reply out of you.

“Yes.” A sleek smile gave way on your face, showing her that you were more than leased to do anything that she told you too. At the end of the day, it was the dynamic that you had invested yourself in, and also, the saying was true, in a diverse matter; ‘mummy knows best.’

“Okay then.” A broad structure defined her cheeks, paying tribute to her happy, and impressed demeanour. “Since it’s only fair, I want you to make me cum. It’s clear that you’re so good at it, considering that you got yourself to orgasm by nothing but your own fingers.”

She was intentionally getting under your skin about your misbehaviour, ripping of the band aid that you were certain that the openness and lack of squirming away that the spanking that she delivered entailed. But instead, it was another thing that you had been wrong about that to, and so you shuffled patiently upon your knees, watching as she intimately read you expression.

Lizzie pulled you closer by her adoring grasp on your cheek, slotting your mouth against the hilltop of hers. The pair of you moved in a rhythm, sawing your tongues around each other like flexible switch blades. Whenever she pulled away for a breather, you chased her with the promise of continuation, and vice versa.

But finally, the main event was approaching, such a ploy was revealed by Lizzie shrugging out of the dress that she had worn specifically for the interview downtown. The peeling of that layer left her in nothing more than her panties, revealing that she had forgone the support of a bra, which was formidable, since the outfit of her stylist’s choice had enabled enough, yet not too much revelation of a cleavage.

No resilience was met by either parties as she removed her flushed lips away, and laid dominantly back on the expensive mattress. And without waiting for you to run like a transitioning river beside her, she removed her panties herself, flinging them lazily away by her ankle. “Last time you ripped them.” Was her excuse, though, not that she had to ever explain herself to you of all.

It was a vivid memory, one that you fondly held onto. At the time, it had merely been an accident, but no longer did you regret what you did back then. In fact, reflecting on in it was quite hot in fact, and it had indeed been flashing images from that time that you had used to get yourself off earlier.

But your prior release, nor those that were promised in the future were your concern; not at the moment anyways. Your own priority was the woman spreading her legs so confidently in front of you, and the r rated sight had saliva collecting in the globe of your mouth.

“So pretty mummy.” The compliment had her cunt clench around nothing, you could see as the slit puffed its expanse out, attempting to seduce you inside. And it’s efforts were not in vain, for you crept forwards on your forearms, your high and beheld beloved capturing your every move within her clouded gaze.

“It would be far prettier if you were to give it a kiss. I think it’d like that, very much.” An innocent smirk wandered onto her compelling face, and you were eager to oblige her insinuating command. Your fingertips rubbed the insides of her thighs, your thumbs reaching to spread her glorious pink folds.

Leaning forwards, you in took a sensual breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent that rolled off from Lizzie’s cunt in controlling waves. It reeled you closer, and closer, until your lips were pressed against her bud in a sweet peck. “Your so wet.” Was your speculation, and you couldn’t help but gravitate your fingers onto her flower, and roll them in circles upon her individual expanse.

“Then clean it up baby. You know what to do.” Her hand reached down, bunching a fist full of hair within her grip, lowering your head down once again, causing you to continue focusing on her clit, whilst your fingers played lovingly around in her slick.

With the use of your tongue, you began from the bottom of her cunt, to her sensitive clit, working in attentive upwards strokes, collecting her sweet nectar onto your spoon appendage, and leaving none to waste. Then, you prodded at her entrance with the tip of it, sinking it in the private cavern, and reaching as far as your body part would allow you to.

Lizzie had her mouth pouted, as she breathed and mewled steadily. It served as encouragement, making you rock your tongue in and out of her successfully, your thumb finding a home on her clit, and rubbing with a passive goal. “Yes.” She moaned, her noise amplifying as she ground sensually down onto your face, rubbing her excess juices over it. “I’m close.”

That’s made you continue your administrations, the only thing of them that changed being your pace, which increased to a rapid tendency and urgency to get her to finish. “Gonna cum all over your pretty little brat face.” Her other hand also found homage in your hair, as she used it as leverage to rut her mound more directly upon your features.

A light scream evoked from her chest, as you felt her spill around your tongue, the liquid seeping out from her entrance, and softly drowning her thighs. After collecting as much as possible, and drinking it all up, you removed your face, feeling how your chin and such felt quite damp.

“I hope that teaches you to not touch yourself without permission.” Panted Lizzie, making no effort to get up from the bed, tucking herself under a blanket. She lifted up one of the sides, extending her arm upwards, and inviting you into her arms. And you were happy to settle down with her and get some rest after the thrilling and erotic night.

Being a brat wasn’t so bad. And at the end of it all, you always got to curl up with your girlfriend and find comfort in her gentle embrace, it was one of your favourite parts about having an intimate night.

[sunshineseung]

Interrogation // Bang Chan

🍄 | genre: smut  ☁️ | pairing: Bang Chan x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.0k 🌸 | includes: kinda hard dom!chan, sub!reader, detective/suspect roleplay, spitting?, degradation/praise, handcuffs, oral (f!receiving), spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, hanjob/oral (m!receiving), cum swallowing, lil aftercare, wholesome end :)

☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been thrown in the slammer for robbing a casino, and the detective needs a testimony from you, but you won’t fess up. Guess he’ll have to get it out of you the best way he can... well, not really. This was your boyfriend’s idea to roleplay this, but he looks so hot in the detective outfit that you couldn’t turn down his cute little pout :(

🌊 | collaboration: this is part of the Summer Time Love collaboration hosted by @milkym00n​ ! here’s the full masterlist to every other work in the collab! go support the other authors that took place in this please. they’re all super talented! thank you!

“Where’d you hide the money?!” Chris slammed his fist down on the table, standing up across from you. Your wrists were handcuffed behind the uncomfortable wooden chair you sat in. You kept shaking your head, refusing to fess up. “Tell me where the money is!”

“I’ll never tell you where the money is, pig!” You hock up a loogie and spit right in his face, never wavering your façade. He wipes the spit off of his face, rubbing his wet hand against his button-up shirt. 

“You better tell me where you’re hiding the damn money, bitch.”

“Make me.” You smirk up at Chris, lightly giggling as he catches on so you can finally get to the good part. 

This whole interrogation scene was Chris’s idea, not yours. He practically begged you to roleplay with him just this once with an admittedly cliché idea. You couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes, though. They always melted your heart. Now that the scene started, you were pleasantly surprised how good of an actor your boyfriend, or in this case, your prosecutor, is. Not to mention how hot he looked in this black button-up dress shirt, tight black dress pants, a leather belt, a slim black tie, and some shoes that you honestly didn’t care about. He looked like an absolute gentleman, although it was too bad that he wasn’t going to be fully dressed for too long.

“Oh, make you?” Chris raised his voice, walking around the table to be next to you. He looked down at you, unable to move from your seat, legs spread with a pleated skirt covering your upper thighs. “And how would I go about making you talk, pretty girl?”

“Maybe but your loud mouth to good use, hm?” You spread your legs more causing Chris’s eyes to drift downward to where you needed him most. He smiles, getting onto his knees after twisting your chair from under the table so he didn’t have to bonk his head. “Good boy~”

“You’ll regret talking down to me, princess.” Chris slides his rough hands up your thighs, grabbing your panties and pulling them down your legs. Your skirt still covers your crotch, Chris’s hands resting on your knees while he looks up at you. “Gonna talk yet?”

“Don’t know, have you make me cum yet?” You roll your hips against the chair, biting your lip as he stares at your cunt, pushing your skirt back up your body to finally reveal your pussy. He licks his lips, eager to dive in. He grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge of the chair, wrapping his arms around your thighs before finally bringing his tongue in contact with your cunt. The whine you let out is painfully lewd, but Chris eats it up.

“You taste really sweet for being such a sour bitch, you know?” Chris laughs at his own home as his tongue flutters through your folds. You ride your hips against his face, feeling his mouth explore your aching pussy. An arm of his comes off your thigh and goes to your cunt, his fingers pressing against your entrance as he sucks at your clit. “You want me to finger you, little girl?”

“P-please finger me.” You forget about the whole roleplay for a second, desperate to feel Chris stretch you out with his fingers.

“Then where’d you hide the money, baby?” Chris hums against your clit, his fingers still teasingly circling the rim of your pussy. “Only good girls get to cum on daddy’s fingers.”

Despite the countless times Chris has made you cum with nothing but his fingers, you still have the audacity to say “I d-doubt your pathetic fucking fingers could get me even close to c-cumming.” If you’re stutters didn’t make it obvious enough, the shaking of your legs gave Chris a clear signal that your words were nothing but empty. Still, he wanted to see you sob from how good he makes you feel.

Accepting your challenge, Chris dives two fingers into your dripping cunt, already making you moan like a bitch in heat. His expert fingers curl into your sweet spot while they trust in an out of you, his lips still wrapped around your sensitive clit. His other hand slaps your thigh, making you yelp in shock, not that you didn’t like it.

“You want to know where I hid the cash, pretty boy?” Chris lightly bites your clit for a second to make you whine after your sentence. If your hands were free, they would have been combing through his hair by now. Unfortunately, all you can do is curl your toes and tighten your hands into fists. “Make me cum and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Chris’s eyes are focused like you’ve never seen them before, and finally looking down at his lustful faces makes you whimper. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as the movements of his fingers quicken, increasing in intensity. He truly knew your cunt like no other partner you’ve ever had in the past, and because of that, he always knew when you were close without you even saying a word.

“Cum on my face, princess. Give daddy what he wants.” Even in roleplay, Chris can’t help but call himself ‘daddy’ at every chance he gets. You bucks your hips into his face, your legs going limp as you cream on his fingers, whining his name loudly as you cum for him just like he asked. Your thighs tighten around his head, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to ride you through this orgasm while your hips roll against his face. “Good girl, baby. Such a good girl.”

You catch your breath as Chris stands up, scanning your face for any sign that you’ll crack and tell him what he needs. A smirk returns to your face as you close your legs and look up at him. “The money’s in the back of my car under the seat. It’s long gone by now, though.”

“Long gone? Where?”

“If my boys did what I told them to, my car’s five towns over as we speak, and they aren’t stopping anytime soon.” You wiggle in your seat, a weak attempt to escape your restraints. “If you know what’s good for ya, you’d let me out of these cuffs. I know you want to fuck me properly now, don’t ya?” 

Chris hesitates, walking around your chair to put his hands on your shoulders from behind you. “Your boys, huh?” Realizing what he was calling back to, you fear that you’ve unleashed Chris’s jealous side, something you haven’t seen since he made you see stars in a dressing room. “How many boys play with this pretty pussy?”

“That’s none of your business, pig. Now let me go.” 

“I don’t think I will, slut.” He lifts you out of your chair from under your arms, tossing you onto the table, your ass in the air as you’re bent over. “You’re gonna know what a real cock feels like tonight, little girl.” 

You hear his pants unbuckle from behind you, your legs spreading just enough for your cunt to be on full display for Chris. You can’t see, but Chris is throbbing at the sight of you ready to be ruined. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness before making any attempt to slip into your hole. 

“Dumb whore thought she could get away with this crime without any punishment, huh?” Chris laid his hand down on your ass in a spank, leaving your ass stinging after the hit. He grabbed the skin he’d just slapped before plunging his cock into you, making you feel full within seconds. The way his length stretched you out made your eyes shut tight, the pleasure pulsing through your body without giving you the chance to think or breath. “You’re so much better with my cock stuffed in you, huh?”

“Such a big cock, but you don’t know what to do with it, do ya?” You attempt to laugh at Chris, but his hand lays another swift spank across your ass. His dick is pulsing inside you, hard as a rock as it twitches against your walls. You’re purposefully tightening around him, teasing him with every flex of your lower muscles. “I bet you’re gonna cum within seconds, big boy.”

“Stupid fucking slut doesn’t know when to shut up.” He leans forward and grabs your hair wit his fist, pulling your head back without lifting your torso off the table. He starts thrusting into you, his pace rough and deep right from the jump. The way his cock hits so deep inside you is nothing you haven’t felt before, but it’s so jarring that it can’t help but feel like a new experience every time. Drool seeps out of the side of your mouth and onto your chin as Chris easily fucks you dumb.

Chris’ other hand holds your hips tight enough to bruise, keeping you still against the table as it shakes under you. Your cunt feels so tight around him, he feels almost light headed from the pressure around his fat cock. His tip hits your cervix, your pussy aching for release sooner than expected. He knows your body too well to roleplay like this.

“You feel so good, sweetheart... I mean, bitch.” Nice one, Chris. His grip on your hair fluctuates between painfully aggressive and light as a feather. As much as he wants to cum inside you, he fights the urge to release suddenly and holds out just to prove you wrong. As much as he knows he isn’t a minute man, he doesn’t want this roleplay to turn into shaming him for cumming too soon.

Your eyes roll back as he hits your sweet spot over and over again, every stroke slamming into you better than before. The sounds echoing through the room can only be described as lewd, loud skin slapping and wet noises filling the air. The only thing more lewd than the bodily sounds are you and Chris moaning for each other, both still painfully holding onto your characters for the roleplay until it becomes too much.

“W-wanna cum...”

“What was that, baby? Say it louder.”

“I’m about to cum.”

“Louder, bitch.”

“Channie!~” Breaking character, you whine his favorite nickname loudly as you cum around his cock, the walls of your pussy tightening around him one last time before your creamy release covers his cock. You feel your wetness drip down your thighs as he continues pounding your cunt to chase his own high. “Chris- Chris-“

“Shhh, I’m almost there, angel.” The hand that was once in your hair is now petting your cheek with the back of his fingers, feeling the heat radiating from your flushed face. “Knees, now.”

“Huh?”

“Get on your fucking knees, Y/n.”

He leans off of you, allowing you to stand up with weak legs and quickly (but purposefully) fall to your knees in front of his cock. Chris’ hand jerks himself rapidly, his red tip oozing precum right before his orgasm. You stick your tongue out and look up at him, Chris biting his lip and squinting his eyes shut as he pumps his cock with a tight fist.

You hold his wrist still at the base of his cock, Chris’s eyes immediately flying open to watch you take him into your mouth, sucking his tip just enough to make him groan and cum down your throat. Your tongue is covered in his white release as he pulls out of your mouth, the sensitivity being too much for him. He stares down at you as you swallow his load, licking your lips to secure every drop.

“You’re a really sexy criminal, you know?” He chuckles, pulling you up into his arms and pecking you on the lips as he takes the handcuffs off of you. “So, where’s the money, darling?”

“I’ll pay for takeout, how about that?” You both laugh as you take his hands and push him onto the bed to cuddle with him, soon getting up to pee and coming right back. “You want pizza?”

“Pizza would be great, but can we wait a minute before ordering? You just ate...”

“What do you m- ... Oh my god, Chris.” You shove his lightly before pulling him right back to you, his joke absolutely tickling him pink. “You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“It’s fine, I ate too.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“Love you too!” <3

[tommyspeakycap]

Can you do a jealous John stones please 🥺🥺🖤

jealous stonesy coming right up! feel like john is the quick to get jealous type :) this gif does things to me

Black Tie Turbulence

John’s hand is both a constant and comforting presence on your lower back from the moment you both stepped out the car. He’s careful with his feet to not step on the bottom of your beautiful long dress that was matched in colour to that of his delicately placed pocket square.

“Aren’t you two a sight?”

John leads the turn so you can both face Kyle and Annie, also both dressed to the nines and offering each of you a glass of sparkling champagne. “The heels are already a killer,” you joke, making Annie giggle immediately. Heels were a must for almost all black ties, but more so when your boyfriend is an absolute giant.

It was a charity ball that a good few England and their players had been invited to, mostly in order to try and sweet talk the donors into giving more of their money than they originally would. You had gotten used to these events and liked to think you had actually gotten very good at sweetly chatting the vendors into emptying the metaphorical pockets. John wasn’t the world biggest fan of these events, but he knew they had to come hand in hand with the joy of doing what he loves each and every day. Plus, he gets to see you all dressed up. That’s good enough for him.

“I’m gonna go see if I can grab another drink.” You tell John, leaning up to press a chaste kiss into his jaw. He nods, eyes following you intently as you walk off with your heels clinking and dress swaying. “Earth to Stones.” Harry Kane waves, clicking his fingers to get the defenders attention. John shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “He’s fucking whipped, mate.” Kyle laughs heartily, eliciting similar laughter from Kane and his wife.

You stood up at the bar as the tuxedo glad bartender went off to collect your order for you when an older man appeared next to you. He too was looking to order a drink. “I hear the sambuca shots are exquisite this year.” You suggest with a teasing grin and a sparkle in your eyes, very successfully gathering the full attention of the silver fox who you had turned to face. He chuckles, eyes meeting yours as his tongue hits out to lick his lips. He was probably in his mid fifties, so you didn’t feel gross for a little bit of flirting to get some cash for a children’s charity.

“I’m just joking,” you note softly, “But the whiskey is fantastic.”

He nods, a smile overtaking his pink lips and stretching his face to fill a happy 60 years worth of laughter lines. He seemed truly sweet, not that you were at all interested. But he wasn’t sleezy, didn’t have a wedding ring in and looked a little younger than you knew he was. A little bit like Patrick Dempsey, actually. “A woman after my own heart.” He responds, flagging down the waiter for two whiskey’s.

As you got to talking, you learned he was a CEO. You had always been in awe of the kind of money that John had immediate access to in his bank account, what with you still paying off student loans and such until John took went behind your back and payed them off with an insistence that “his girl shouldn’t be worrying about anything ever.” But this man had even more money than that, you suspected. He just screamed out overpriced whiskey, fancy holidays, houses on every continent and boatloads of cars that you hadn’t even heard of. Yet, he seemed very sweet. You told him about some of the work you had gotten up to on a year abroad doing aid work during your second year of uni and he had been extremely curious about it, genuinely listening which shocked you significantly.

John would have said it was because the way that you spoke, completely captivatingly as you got lost in your own stories. You made people feel as though they were part of the adventure, drawing them in and leaving them hanging on every word. Most would claim that you were the only reason John still got invited to these black tie charity events because he certainly wasn’t so good at wooing older men out of their money.

“You’re definitely a whiskey lady, then.” You nod your head at the statement from the older man, a small laugh as you remove your hand from his arm that you had reached for when he made you ‘laugh’ with his last joke. “Mhm…well travelled, beautiful, very elegant and clearly incredibly loved.” You furrow your brows slightly his words, eyeing him carefully in search of their meaning. He leans in slightly, his eyes soft with a kind smile of his face. He nods his head behind you, “He’s been watching you since the moment I stepped up next to you.”

Your eyes land on John when you turn around, trying to look as though he wasn’t watching the interaction intently with those fiery blue eyes. You giggle to yourself with a soft sigh. “You made an old man feel incredibly young again,” he begins with genuine joy in his eyes. “You could change the world with that heart. It’s that reason and that reason only that I’ll be making such a hefty donation. None of this wining and dining, fancy ballroom party they’ve thrown. Passion,” he pauses, “Your kind of passion for better is what this is all about. But I reckon you best get back to the man who looks like he’s going to eat me alive.”

His words were touching and incredibly sweet, but the end was also true. You could hear your boyfriend’s footsteps approaching at a pace that might make you question his fifa rating from last year. You turn yourself back around to offer a thank you for the donation in your name, but all you see is that head of salt and pepper hair disappearing off into the crowd. John has suddenly remembered why he hates these things so much. You’re very clever at getting exactly what was needed from these men and you had no shame at all for flirting with them. If you had it, why not use it? You always said.

Despite knowing it meant nothing, it still sent John absolutely crazy and though you’d never admit it, that was one of the biggest reasons you did it. He used to bring you these things as his friend before you had started dating, which was very coincidentally where he burst and told you he loved you when you had asked what had irritated him so much afterwards.

His jealousy wasn’t something you exactly regarded as a demon, a little bit more of a treat.

Seeing him hot and bothered, angry flush to his cheeks with his jaw set firm and his muscles tense in irritation. It was beautifully hot.

“Flirting with older men again, eh?” He says sharply, his eyes burning a hole in you with the fire of their irritation. You shrug nonchalantly and take a sip of your drink. “Not a big deal,” you hum softly in response, watching carefully as anger flickers through his eyes. He turns his back to you with a scoff and a shake of his head, grumbling something under his breath.

“We’re going.” He states. You roll your eyes. “Oh don’t be like that, John.”

“Like what, eh?” He presses, still not turning to look at you.

“All angry and shit, it’s not a big dea-“

John isn’t having it. He whips around quickly, using his large body to press you back into the bar and takes the drink from your hand with ease when you still, enjoying a sip of it before he places it down on the bar, out of the way easily with those long arms. His hands come down to hold onto the dark mahogany surface of the bar top, trapping you with your back against it between his arms and your front against his chest. “Not a big deal?” He challenges, being careful to wedge his thigh in between your legs, he presses it up against you.

“It’s all for charity, John.”

Your face remains unchanged as you look into his eyes, darkened by lust with his pupils swallowing the blue of his iris.

“I don’t care,” he rumbles, his voice low, reverberating through your ear where he had loved his mouth to, his lips and hot breath tickling your neck with each word he speaks. You open your mouth to response, but John sees this and ceases the opportunity he has primed himself for so you can’t speak before he does. The words are lost on your tongue, dying before they ever have the chance to exist when he flexes the muscles of the thigh between your legs, tightening and pushing it up against you. He swallows your squeaky whimper with his mouth over yours.

“You’re mine.” He growls against your lips, continuing to make his presence between your legs known, very very known. He does pull back k slightly though, his darkened smirk flattering to a soft smile as he tilts his head to take in your rosy cheeks. “My sweet, kind girl.” He coos, lifting both his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the soft surface. You giggle at his words, blush deepening. “Seriously though, love,” he hums, “Hate the action, love the cause.”

That prompts another giggle, your head falling to rest on his chest gently. His hands strokes over your hair softly as his lips press down on the top of your head.

“Not mad?” You query, listening in to the soft and slow thud of his heart against your cheek. John has moved you effortlessly to the ballroom dance floor from the bar with only a few backwards steps, letting you lean in against his chest again. “Little bit, of course.” He replies.

John has his arms wrapped tightly around your body to keep you flush against him in every way, swaying back and forth in time with the music.

To any onlookers, it would appear as normal, mundane and incredibly sweet to see the relatively young couple enjoying each other so close on one of his few nights off. Truly, it was adorable when you factored out the reason for the proximity John keeps to your body.

“John?” You lilt, your voice a daring misfire between sweet and sultry. “Mhm?” He rumbles in response, keeping his cheek rested on the top of your head. “Your hard-on is pressing into my stomach.” He chuckles to himself, your words too quiet for anyone else anywhere near to eavesdrop on but enough to flush his cheeks ever so slightly.

“And I would much rather it was in some far more pleasurable places.”

John does not need those words explained to him, nor does he waste even a moment leading you hastily off towards the exit of the ballroom, sure that he could find somewhere in this venue suitable enough to let everybody hear just who you belong to.

[guardianofrivendell]

Reckless

Meludir x gender neutral reader

Requested: Yes! Anon asked: “Hello, can i please get a oneshot between meludir and reader where reader is injured from an orc attack and meludir is looking after them?”

Warnings: I tried to write something fluffy, I really did, just a normal fluffy kind of oneshot but the force of sarcasm and sass is too strong! 

A/N: I didn’t know Meludir that well, and there isn’t much information about him besides that he’s from the Mirkwood guard, so I just went with my own interpretation of his character. This was also a request that was long overdue (by now all of my requests fall into that category, I AM SO SORRY).

“I can’t believe we’ve waited so long,” Meludir chuckled, gently wiping the hair out of your face.  

You were both relaxing together at the edge of the forest, right at the other side of the bridge where the trees stopped and the palace grounds began. It was one of the more quieter spots in the kingdom, away from all the hustling and bustling of the palace, but still close enough so you would notice if something was wrong. Your sense of duty as a member of the Mirkwood Guard was never far away, even if you had some time off.

Meludir was sitting with his back against a tree, your head resting in his lap, your eyes closed. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and the other one was now lazily going through your hair. For a moment it felt like it was just the two of you, and time stood still. 

“Maybe we were a little too blind to see what was right in front of us,” you said in response, and brought the hand that was going through your hair to your lips to kiss it, marveling at the softness of his skin. “But I’m glad our eyes finally opened, Meludir. I don’t think I could have gone another day dancing around each other, meleth nin.”

Meludir hummed softly and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I could not agree more. Gi melin, mîr nin. An uin.” (I love you, my treasure, forever)

He then started singing to you, his voice soothing and barely above a whisper. You focused on the caresses of his thumb on your hand, and when his fingers started gently scratching your scalp, you felt yourself slowly slipping away. 

“Sleep, meleth nin. Sleep, my one true star.”

The high-pitched scratching of a chair dragging across the floor pulled you out of your more than pleasant dream. 

You desperately tried to focus on the last images which were still lingering in your mind but alas, the loving words sung by Meludir were slowly replaced with the soft thumping of a massive headache and your head was no longer resting on his comfortable lap but on a fluffy pillow instead. Which was also nice but, you know, not the same. 

Someone took your hand in theirs, followed by a soft squeeze. No, no, no, you weren’t ready to wake up yet! You weren’t done with that dream! Who needed the cruel reality where your best friend was just that, your best friend - with the emphasis on friend - while in your dreams he was your intended? So hello dreamworld it was! 

You tried to turn on your side so you could try and go back to sleep, but as soon as your right leg shifted just the tiniest bit, a shot of pain went through it, setting it on fire and making your body go rigid. 

Okay, so moving was a big no no. What happened to you?

You inhaled a little deeper to try and breathe through the pain, when the scent of herbs and starched linen filled your nose.  Wait a minute... The pain in your leg, the smell of herbs and linen…  This was not your own comfortable bed you were lying in! 

You were in the healing wing! 

Okay… Maybe you should open your eyes and check? Just to be sure?

But you were rather comfortable if you were being honest - if you didn’t count the slight throbbing in your head and your leg that was still hurting - and as long as your eyes remained closed, you didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of whatever happened to you. 

Better make the most of it and try and sleep some more! 

But alas… there was no rest for you when flashes of what had happened shot through your head, making you forget about the pain for a moment. 

You had been on a patrol through the deeper parts of the forest with your friend Meludir and a few other guards when you’d stumbled across a couple of spiders. Despite being far outnumbered by the vile creatures, you came out victorious, but you couldn’t prevent some of the less experienced guards from getting hurt. While you were taking care of their injuries, Meludir had spotted an orc pack in the distance. 

So of course you had to go after them… By yourself, leaving a very upset Meludir with the wounded. You’d deal with him afterwards. He will come around eventually, he always did. That’s why you were such good friends. 

You were all about impulsive decisions. It’s what made you join the Mirkwood Guard in the first place and usually that turned out for the best. This time? Hmm… not so much. 

You were caught off guard during the fight and suffered a stab wound in your leg because of it, there were simply too many Orcs for you to face alone. Oh you could almost hear Meludir’s ‘I told you so’! While you were distracted trying to get the dagger out of your thigh as soon as possible - afraid it was poisoned - one of the remaining Orcs saw its chance and charged at you. Your reflexes were too slow and you failed to deflect the hilt of his sword. That’s when the lights went out. 

“Y/N?”

Another squeeze in your hand. 

Seriously, how impatient can someone get? You were sleeping! Or trying to, your leg was still hurting after all. Didn’t they teach them how rude it was to wake a sleeping, injured person? Not good for the healing process! 

But the sounds surrounding you were getting louder, reverberating against the insides of your skull and making your head throb even worse. Guess that blow to your head actually did do some damage there. Better keep those eyes closed for a while longer, you thought. 

But you were also curious, and you couldn’t help trying to concentrate on the sounds closest to you. You could hear a voice talking softly to themselves, it sounded oddly familiar, it had sung to you in your dream not ten minutes ago. Meludir…

You suddenly remembered who exactly you were dreaming of a few moments ago. Oh Eru, you didn’t talk in your sleep right?!

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

Yeah, that was Meludir alright. You could almost hear the smirk coming through his voice. The hand covering yours was probably his too. 

Oh, he was not going to like this. He’s probably worried sick, or angry. Or both. Either way, you were in trouble. 

You opened your eyes a little to take a small peek. If there was even the slightest hint of anger on his face, you were going to pretend to be asleep for a little while longer.

Meludir seemed relaxed at first sight, his elbows were resting on his knees, his hands holding onto your left one. He was still wearing his uniform, covered with blood stains from the encounter with the spiders, and you noticed some black Orc blood as well. But he was unharmed, thank the Valar. 

His dark eyes were already staring at you as soon as your eyes met his, boring into yours with such an intensity that you couldn’t help but look away in shame...  Busted.

“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” you tried to joke, trying to assess his current mood. He looked like he was relieved to see you awake. This might not be so bad after all.

Oh how naive could you be...

“Now that you’ve finally opened your eyes...” he began. 

The relief that was etched on his face slowly turned into anger. Uh-oh. 

“What were you thinking, Y/N?!” he whisper-shouted, smacking your arm. 

“Hey hey, no assaulting the injured!” you protested, grasping your arm.

“Your arm is fine! Wish I could say the same about your leg and your head,” he huffed.  

You rolled your eyes and let go of your arm. 

“Both are still attached to my body so clearly you are overreacting, Meludir!”

“I am overreacting? Who exactly went after an entire Orc pack by themselves?! You! And without even telling me, you just ran off!” he ranted, seeming to forget he was in the healing wing. “You could’ve died, Y/N!”

“But I didn’t,” you countered. 

Meludir rushed to stand, his swift movement unbalancing the chair. 

“But you could have! I could have lost you!” he snapped, his hands going through his dark hair in frustration. 

You didn’t know if he said that last sentence to himself or not, but this was the first time you saw him in such a state and you didn’t know what to think of it. 

You hated it when Meludir was angry at you. He just had to get it all off his chest, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you liked it when he yelled at you.

One of the healers nearby reprimanded him for raising his voice, and that seemed to calm the Mirkwood Elf a little. He looked at you apologetically.  

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just- Never mind…” He took a seat on your bed this time, carefully as to not hurt your leg. “Tell me, how are you feeling?” he asked, taking a deep breath. 

Oh. Okay, we finally have worried Meludir. That’s a good thing. You could work with him.

“Killer headache and as long as I lie still, I should be fine. I’ll be back up in no time.”

“You had me- and us, you had us worried there, Y/N.”

Meludir’s hand wrapped around yours again. Weird, since when did you guys start to hold hands this much?

“Awww, you were worried about me?” you teased him, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your stomach when you looked at your joined hands.  

“Y/N, I found you unconscious and bleeding on the ground with Orcs leaning over you. Of course I was worried!” he raised his voice, his eyes wide in concern. “You were out for several hours!”

After a few seconds Meludir let go of your hand and sighed. 

You finally got a good look at him and you noticed his hair was messy, some strands sticking to the side of his head. He looked tired, you didn’t think you ever saw him tired before. He was a complete mess. Very unlike him.

The poor Elf had probably been at your side the whole time. Guilt started settling in your stomach.

“I’m sorry I made you worried,” you apologised, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Meludir chuckled. “Yeah, we both know that’s not going to happen.”

You lifted your head a little to look around, and you were surprised to see the other beds empty. Where were the other guards?

“How are the others?”

“Some scratches and minor injuries, a few spider bites. Nothing the healers couldn’t fix. You were worse off than them,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You let your head drop back into the pillow dramatically, relieved to hear the others were fine. But something still bothered you.

You rolled your head to the side to look at him and pointed at his chest.

“Why is there Orc blood on your uniform?”

“Well, someone had to finish what you started.”

Is that a smirk you saw? The cheeky bastard!

“Oh, just you wait until I get back on my feet, I’ll happily remind you who’s the better fighter,” you challenged him. 

“That’ll take some time, the healers said you can go to your own chambers once you wake up, but…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead looking at you in apprehension. 

“What? What’s with the dramatic pause?”

“You have to stay off guard duty for at least two weeks. Orders from the healers and King Thranduil.” 

“What?” you gasped, and you winced when you sat up a little too fast and careless, hurting your leg in the process. Your hand flew towards your thigh and you saw Meludir’s hands doing the same. 

“Don’t hurt the messenger! Or yourself!” he joked, but you didn’t miss the slight hint of fear and worry in his eyes. Good.

“Meludir,” you whined, dragging out his name, “you don’t understand! I’ll die out of boredom!”

“Your wound needs healing, Y/N. You cannot use your leg and you need your rest.” 

He grabbed your hand and traced your knuckles with his thumb. 

“And in the meantime I’ll be there to take care of you.”

Oh. Oh.

Well in that case...

He squeezed your hand again, and smiled at you. It lit up his entire face, and you couldn’t help but mimic his expression. Maybe with him as your private nurse it wouldn’t be so bad after all. The prospect of being carried around by Meludir all the time made it all seem almost enjoyable. 

“But before I carry you to your chambers, I need you to explain something to me first, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course, what is it?”

The corner of his lip twitched and his entire demeanour changed. 

“Why did you call me ‘meleth nin’ in your sleep?”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @entishramblings​ @artsywaterlily​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​ @aredhel-of-gondolin​ @leethology​ @elvish-sky​ @moony-artnstuff​ @kirenia15​ @hey-its-nonny​ @moarfandomtrash​ @beenovel​

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

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You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

[zvnphoria]

- how being koko’s best friend would be like

a/n - had too much fun with this. THIS IS VERY LONG UM. this is an apology for being inactive.

contains - fluff, teeny bit of angst, just platonic because YEAH, fem!reader, implied strong reader, reader has mommy issues (definitely not projecting), reader had a friendship with akane and looked up to her like an older sister

you and hajime go way back since you were kids. you two met in an interesting way but not necessarily in a good one.

you were walking to the nearest park to get out of your crazy house because your mom kept screaming at you over the littlest thing again. you forgot to wash the dishes (you didn’t necessarily forget that’s for sure). you stopped once you saw a boy around your age getting beaten up by some older kids. his hand gripped tightly on what looked like a school bag and protected it like his life depended on it.

it didn’t matter anymore because you had just knocked out both of the bullies in no time without a thought— almost as if it was normal to you. when you looked at the boy, he had blood going down from his forehead to his cheek, heavily panting and on the verge of passing out. he’s not the fighting type, huh. luckily you had a towel wrapped around your neck since you had just gotten out of the shower when you walked out your house, you weren’t gonna spend much time at the park anyways

you kneeled down and wiped the dripping blood off his face and noticed a bigger figure running towards you both. it was.. a girl?

“hajime-kun! what happened here?!” she panicked as she checked your surroundings

“akane-san.. it’s no big deal i promise..”

“no big deal?! i knew something was up when you rushed the other way. and my bag also happened to be missing! why didn’t you ask for help? you don’t need to be independent all the time.”

“and you,” she began, making eye contact with you

“are you okay? are you hurt?”

“no no! i’m fine don’t worry.”

“she was actually the one who knocked them out, akane-san,”

the older girl looked at the unconscious bullies, then back at you with shock and amazement in her eyes

“you did this? that’s amazing!” she says as she quickly takes your hands and wraps it around hers

“uh.. yes i promise it’s really not a big deal. i’ve dealt through worse, trust me,” you say as you gaze at the direction of your house

“worse or not this is still definitely something! even i cant beat someone up, and i’m way older than you!” she chuckled

“well it’s not like you have the heart to do something like that, akane-san,” the boy comments

“hahah you’re right, you’re right. anyways we should get going now— the sun is gonna set very soon, and you should get home as well. is your house nearby? we can walk you if you’d like,”

even ‘til this day you still don’t know why you didn’t decline her offer. was it because she was nice? it didn’t matter anymore, because if you had declined, you wouldn’t get to meet such amazing people.

it’s been a few months after meeting hajime and akane, and you had also met akane’s younger brother who was your age— seishu! you four would often hang out, whether it was at the inui home or at hajime’s house. getting to know them was pretty fun, and very interesting because a certain someone had a crush on akane.

it was definitely not seishu because they’re siblings and that’s just weird, definitely not you because akane had reminded you of your older sister who was almost never in your life, so that only left one choice— hajime.

his crush on her was so painfully obvious that you couldn’t stand seeing him try to impress her every now and then. he even ditched his glasses and bought contacts just for her to compliment him! he’s whipped huh..

one day you decided to help him out a little with his crush. it was another day of your usual hang outs except this time it was at your local mall! akane’s birthday was coming up and you three had collectively agreed to take her to the mall and see if she would see anything she’d like. turns out she was eyeing some platforms with red on the bottoms, and you took notice.

seishu dragged her to go to the food court with him because he was “hungry” so you and hajime took the chance to buy the heels. you were both now at the cash register, waiting for the register person

“i don’t understand you,” you began

“i don’t understand why you like her so much. i mean— i get that’s she’s amazing and nice and pretty and all but.. there’s another reason why you like her. something must’ve happened for you to be so attached to her so what is it?” you meant no harm with this question whatsoever. you were simply curious and that’s all.

before he answered, he smiled to himself and looked back at you

“she’s the only one that makes me feel not under pressure all the time. she’s the one who constantly reminds me that i shouldn’t be so independent and that i should always ask for help.” as you took a breath in to reply, he stopped you

“before you say anything, i know. i know she doesn’t like me. i know she’s just being nice. but there’s nothing wrong with a one-sided crush right?” he grins

even though he was beaming with a smile in front of you, you knew. you knew this wasn’t how he truly felt. you knew that deep down he was hurt but it was understandable. after all, he was just a kid wasn’t he? you saw right through him.

it was a shame after what happened the next couple of weeks after that conversation. it all happened so fast and none of you were prepared for it. you weren’t prepared for the incident that had happened to akane. a few days before it occurred, koko proudly told you that he was planning to confess and you were way against it.

“huh?! but i need to get this off my chest, y/n! i don’t care if she rejects me or not!”

“haji, i have a bad feeling about this.. i’m serious. you know how i always get bad feelings and they turn out to be true!”

he groaned and scooted far from where he was originally sitting which was right next to you. you sigh and got up to sit down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder so he wouldn’t escape

“i just don’t want you to get your hopes up, that’s all.” deep down you knew the truth. akane wasn’t interested in boys one bit despite all the confessions she had received almost every week.

“fine. you have a point. but im still going with this,”

all you could do was do nothing but let him. oh how you wished you protested more, because in return all he got was a huge burden on his shoulders.

“please ma’am, just please tell me what room akane inui and seishu inui are in,” you shouted as tears were rolling down on your cheeks. “107, right down the hall and take a left ‘hon”

you bowed and quickly made your way into the room. as you burst the door open, your eyes immediately go on seishu who looked so sad to the point where he didn’t even bother to look up at you. you hug him with a feeling of relief flowing in your body, but soon that feeling was gone when you asked where akane was.

you stood outside the door, not knowing why your feet couldn’t move. what’s wrong, y/n? her voice rang your ears. go on, don’t worry i’ll be right here next to you and if you get scared, just hold my hand! right. that was the time you were at a “haunted” house together and you were scared to go in. why are you being reminded of this right now?

you gulped and slowly opened the doorknob and found a crying boy in front of you, hands grabbing on the sheets with his head on the edge of the bed. you couldn’t do anything. all you could do was sit next to him with your head resting on his shoulder while you were crying.

a few years after that, you both acted as if nothing had happened. not because you wanted to forget akane, but because you knew akane would’ve wanted you both to continue living on without her.

despite not dating, you two would always have couple tendencies like feeding food to eachother or hugging often but you’re just THAT close to the point you can probably kiss without feeling any romantic attraction whatsoever

you couldn’t hang out with him as much anymore because of all the gang related things he’s doing. to make it up to you, he knocks on your window late at night and sleeps over most of the time. you talk to him about the usual— have you been eating? you should get more rest. and so on.

you were the one who got him to start wearing eyeliner! at first he just looked at you with a confused face when you handed him it as his present, but then you explained that if he wants to go fully dedicated to the black dragons, the wings of the eyeliner would represent the wings of the dragon. he didn’t wear it at first, all he did was ruffle your hair and said he’d think about it— and he kept his word! so now he’s the iconic money-making genius that wears eyeliner.

after all that’s happened between you two, there isn’t a single awkward moment you share. you know those friends who bring up an adult related topic out of completely nowhere? you two were those friends.

“i was walking by an alley and i heard a girl getting fucked,” he says while chewing the piece of gum you handed to him

“..and??”

“i’ve never walked away so fast in my life.”

there are days where you’re sad but, of course, you don’t tell him. in fact you don’t need to tell him because he’ll know when you’re upset.

“so are ya gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says as he rests his head on your thighs

“ugh how do you always know..”

“because we’ve been together for the longest, duh.”

he doesn’t show it much, but he cares for you more than you think he does. overprotective and can’t help but show it at times, but don’t worry! he’s doing it because he loves you. remembers the littlest things you talk about and are interested in. he’s also constantly on the lookout so that you don’t get hurt or even worse.

when he’s the one who’s upset, you immediately know. he’s quieter than usual, zoning out a lot and just not paying attention to what you’re saying to him, almost like he’s in his own little world. before you initiate a conversation, you play with his hair so he’ll feel comfortable as a way for you to convince him to tell you what’s wrong.

even though it happened such a long time ago, he still thinks about her. you cant blame him, you do too! if you were to describe your best friend with one sentence, the first thing that would pop up in your head was weak little boy. not weak as in physically weak, but weak as in mentally weak. he can’t help but get emotional when it comes to her, which is understandable.

“it’s not your fault, hajime. she left you with no proper closure, and now you’re carrying guilt and burden on your shoulders. anyone would feel the same or even worse in your position.”

he didn’t respond but he doesn’t need to. all that matters to him is that you’re next to him, comforting him with your kind words like you always do. you both have some differences which caused a few arguments, but in the end you would still be best friends.

speaking of arguments, you argue either over the dumbest things ever or over serious topics. one time you got mad at him because he was beating you in a video game and his smug expression was not helping at all. you kicked him out of your house because you were just THAT frustrated. you felt guilty so you decided to walk to his house and apologize but stopped once you saw a certain figure trying to climb up to your window.

in the start of the serious argument, it was completely something different than what you were yelling at each other about now.

he showed up at your house with your favorite boba and snacks. you demanded him to put those down.

“hajime. food— no. MONEY cant keep me happy forever, and that also applies to you!”

“then what else am i supposed to do?!” his voice started getting weak. he was never the type to argue because he’d always get emotional.

“what am i other than a money-making genius? other than a wallet?”

“i cant do anything about my situation, y/n. nothing. because that’s all i am. just a stupid wallet for everyone to use.” he says about to walk away until you grab his sleeve to stop him.

“that’s not even true. you’re so much more than that, hajime. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry.” you were crying into his chest and he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he spoils you 100%, no doubt. there was a point in life where you would always decline but you had just gotten so used to the offer that you got tired of fighting back. i mean, how could you? he was so willing and eager and most importantly HAPPY to do this for you.

hajime cant drive motorcycles and you constantly tease him about it, which he just responds to you by squeezing your cheeks together so you could shut up. the bad thing about this is that you guys always have to walk or go on a bus to the specific place you’re going to which is pretty tiring at times. although that doesn’t matter because what matters is that you both have each other.

back to the overprotective part.. you got called by this boy to meet him at the rooftop by the end of school and you already knew what was about to go down because of your shoujo manga reading sessions. the first thing you did was call hajime and he immediately got there to warn you about what you were gonna get yourself into.

“don’t you already have someone you like??”

“uh.. no?”

“i couldve sworn you liked that ‘tora dude..”

“keep your mouth shut!”

“…so you’re gonna reject him right?”

and you did! nicely, of course. hajime advised you should make come off as mean so he wouldn’t bother you again but you just ignored him and pretended like you didn’t hear anything.

being his best friend contains some ups and downs, but that’s the point of true friendships— it’ll never be perfect.

[i-lionheart]

Memories | Kylo Ren x Reader

You are Kylo Ren's apprentice and second in command, ruling the galaxy and the First Order at his side. When Kylo notices you acting strange, he calls you to the throne room to investigate.

Before you read: 1.4K words, sfw, fluff, feelsy fluff, hurt/comfort but like... emotional hurt rather than physical, i guess it's technically fem!reader but its only mentioned once (when Kylo calls her "good girl") so make of that what you will

You were surprised to see a message from Kylo Ren when you checked your wristpad. He usually only messaged you when he needed something and couldn't leave the Finalizer's bridge to speak with you face-to-face. Though you had been busy finishing up some work on your ship, he had retired to his quarters almost an hour ago for the evening meal. You opened the message.

Are you still working?

You typed a response.

No. Just finished. Why?

His answer was almost immediate.

Throne room. Now.

On my way.

You typed your final message and swiped the screen of your wristpad, which obediently went black. As you made your way from the docking bay to the throne room, you wondered what he needed so urgently right now. The fleet had spent the day at a supply outpost, gearing up in preparation for your next battle. You had just finished a successful mission and debriefed with Kylo when you had returned around midday, hours ago now. As far as you knew, the First Order was running smoothly, like the well-oiled machine you knew it to be. If something had happened, you would have heard about it.

What could he possibly want that was so urgent?

You arrived at the throne room and scanned your wristpad at the door terminal, as you had a thousand times. The door slid open with a whoosh. You stepped inside, continuing through the corridor that greeted you until it widened into the vast throne room.

The room had once belonged to Snoke, but much had changed since then. Now, walls marked the perimeter of what had once been a half - suspended platform, their previous blood red color replaced with a sleek jet black. Though unseen lights created a dim glow throughout most of the space, a spotlight cast the raised dais in the center of the room - and the figure on the dais's throne- into sharp relief.

Kylo Ren lounged lazily in the throne, legs spread, elbow resting on a thigh, head resting on his hand. He wore only the comfortable boots and simple, breathable long-sleeved shirt and pants that he preferred to his usual robes once he had retired for the day.

As you stepped forward into the room, his eyes settled upon you, taking in your appearance. He regarded you for a moment, and then spoke.

"What's bothering you?"

The question caught you off guard. You looked at him quizzically. "Can't you just read my mind and find out?"

"You're blocking me."

"Again?" you said, surprised. He nodded in confirmation.

"It's worse, today. Usually I can at least read your emotions, tell what you're feeling, how strong it is, maybe even catch a glimpse of what triggered it. Today?" He raised his eyebrows. "Nothing. I've had to surmise what I can from your body language alone."

That was unusual. Kylo was particularly gifted in using the Force to sense the thoughts of others. You were just as Force sensitive as he was, but had spend most of your life forced to hide it, and it had been causing you problems lately. At times, you unconsciously used your powers to throw up walls between your mind and the world. You and Ren had guessed that it was your unconscious way of trying to protect yourself. These mental walls helped stop your emotions from being projected outward and communicated to those around you who might wish you harm, but they also stopped Kylo from getting in, which was a problem. He needed to be able to keep tabs on you. If he couldn't, you were in danger, and you knew it. However, despite the serious nature of the situation, you couldn't pass up the chance to take a jab at him.

You let out a gasp of mock surprise. "You mean you have to read nonverbal cues? Like a normal person? How horrible!" you lamented, sarcastically feigning pity.

Kylo Ren was not a man with a great penchant for jokes, especially when they were at his expense. In fact, most officers in the First Order would probably tell you that he didn't have a comedic bone in his body. But you knew him better. Though he steepled his fingers and lowered his head to his hands, closing his eyes with a sigh of exasperation, you saw the corners of his mouth briefly twitch up into a small smile. You smirked in satisfaction. "I'm right and you know it. Behavior cues are something you have no right to complain about."

He raised his head and looked back at you with a shrewd expression. "And they are why I know that, as much as you attempt to deflect with humor, you are having difficulty. Tell me."

You blushed at the call-out. "It's nothing, really, I-"

He held out a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. "Don't lie to me, little one. Tell me what's bothering you." Though the rebuke was gentle, and his tone was tender, you avoided his gaze, choosing to observe the durasteel floor rather than let him see the shame rising in you.

"It's the memories," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

"It's your mother again, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I just-" you broke off, feeling a lump rise in your throat. "I just- what if she was right? What if I am broken, what if it is my own fault that I failed for so long? What if I can't keep this up, what if I fail again? I don't know, I just spent all day remembering everything she told me, and I thought..." You finally wrenched your gaze away from the floor, looking up at your Supreme Leader through eyes full of tears, praying that he would see the cry for help in your expression that you were too afraid to put into words. "What if I don't deserve this, either?"

With that final admission of insecurity, you lost what little composure you had left. Silent tears began flowing freely down your face as you sunk back into the ocean of memories that had been threatening to drown you for most of the day.

A voice with all the tenderness and softness of a spring rain cut through your thoughts, pulling you out of your daze.

"Come here, darling."

Obediently, you crossed the throne room. As you approached the dais, you looked up at him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He had shifted in his seat, his new position an implicit invitation for you to join him on his throne. You kicked off your boots and ascended the dais, gratefully climbing into his lap and bringing your knees to your chest, melting into the body that was so familiar to you. He pulled you close to him, one arm supporting the small of your back, the other hand pressing your head to his chest despite the tears creating ever-growing dark spots on his thin shirt.

"Shhhh," he murmured. "Listen."

Obediently, you quieted your breathing, paying attention to your senses. Slowly but surely, you found the steady sound of his heart beating in his chest.

"Good girl." A pause, then he continued, impossibly gentle. "Now, match my breath." Obediently, you observed the rise and fall of his chest, then adjusted your own to match.

Inhale.

"Good." His hand stroked your hair.

Exhale.

"Just like that, darling. In..."

Inhale.

"...and out."

Exhale.

"You're doing wonderfully."

A moment of comfortable silence. No strife. No memories. No galaxy to rule. Just the two of you, breathing together.

The way you were meant to be.

He spoke again, continuing to caress you. "Remember where you are."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You are here, with me, and you are safe."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You deserve every star in the galaxy, every atom in the universe."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You deserve your place at my side."

Inhale. Exhale.

"Your mother was wrong. You deserve everything you have. And every time you are with me, I thank the Force for allowing me to rule with you by my side."

"Thank you," you murmured, words muffled from being spoken directly into his chest. God, you loved him, but managing to find the words to express that out loud was impossible.

His voice spoke inside your mind.

"Don't bother. I already know."

You felt, rather than saw, the smile that backed his words.

"If the memories ever bother you again, come find me. I'll help you."

A beat.

"You never have to face this alone again."

You sat there, pressed against him, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. Grateful to simply be with someone who had vowed to always be by your side.

"I love you," you thought.

"I know."

-

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