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tsumuhours · 7 months ago

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CLANDESTINE PARING: suna rintarō x fem!reader TAGS: smut, best friends brother trope WORD COUNT: 5k

If there’s one thing about the end of exams and upcoming – high school – graduation, is the plethora of parties that follow. Call it what you want; schoolies, freedom, and an amazing – yet awful – experience full of drinking, hangovers, or the flu.

At this moment, you’ve been crashing at the one and only Niki Suna’s home. Your best friend, and number one party animal who has a killer house in the centre of all the house parties being thrown by, now, old classmates.

It has been incredible, her parents aren’t home which gives the two of you the freedom to leave every night and come back after midnight without any questions or secrecy. The only issue is that her twenty-year-old brother is home.

Rintaro is not a big problem, he keeps to himself, never leaves his room. He’s only in the country for his sister's graduation, free food, and the fact that he doesn’t have to do his own laundry. Plus, it’s a free vacation.

Although, the times he does come out of his room, you can’t help but feel awkward around him. The last he saw of you was two years ago, when you were sixteen – an age that wasn’t sweet at all. Despite the short time span, a lot can change in two years, you’re evidence of that statement.

You’ve grown into your face, matured, and don't look as young anymore. You’ve gotten more confident with yourself, your body, and it all reflects in the clothes you wear. You speak with a certain command and authority, you walk with a grown confidence, and radiate an aura of gold.

Who knew that the girl that he knew would morph and change into a completely different person in the span of two years? No one can blame him for keeping a fixed gaze on you whenever you pass by, it’s admirable to see the person you’ve become.

However, it doesn’t matter how much self-confidence you’ve built up over the last two years. Around him, around his sharp stare and gaze, it’s hard to keep your head up or find the will to get up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water out of the anxiousness that he’ll be there too.

Which brings you and Niki to now. Friday night, one thirty in the morning, the two of you are walking through the front door. You have managed to sober up from that mysterious, sweet, and addictive, rum punch concoction that you’ve had one too many glasses of.

You cannot say the same for Niki, who had spent the night downing one too many shots and has yet to ride out the alcohol. Nevertheless, she’s still able to walk on two feet and not stumble into every coffee table or shelf stacked with family photos.

“Oh my god,” Niki laughs, kicking off her shoes by the door. “I kept my mouth shut about this at the party, but fuck what was Rina thinking going for Jennie’s man?” She scoffs, “We need to debrief in my room.”

“Girl, I’ve got so much to fucking say about Rina.” You add, forcefully removing your shoes, “Like, I was talking to Jasmine earlier on the balcony and god has Rina been pissing a lot of people off recently.”

“Tell me about it,” Niki rolls her eyes, starting to walk up the steps with you following behind her. “Like, she was fucking wilding out tonight.” She mutters, pushing open her room door – revealing the mess created from getting ready – and collapsing onto her bed.

You, however, reach into your bag for the little toiletries pack, wanting to get all the makeup off your face and make sure no future breakouts happen. Skin care is a priority. And head towards the ensuite bathroom, “And she didn’t even know what she was doing.” You say.

“Me personally,” Niki hums, “if I was Jennie, I would’ve swung on that bitch.”

“That’s so fucking valid though,” you nod, pulling out a micellar wipe before dragging it over your eyes. “Like, what the fuck are you doing? Get away from my man, if it’s like, you know I’m into him, we’ve hooked up multiple times before, what are you doing?”

“Literally!” Niki exclaims, “We’re supposed to be friends! Why are you cuddling next to him on the couch?” She questions, shaking her head at the awful events that transpired throughout the night. “But! Don’t think I didn’t see you and Atsumu earlier.”

“What about me and Atsumu?” You question, poking your head through the open bathroom door – still scrubbing away the mascara from your eyes. “Bro, Helen even asked me about that! She was like: when did you and Atsumu get so close?”

“Did you do anything?” Niki asks, sitting up from the bed. “I know you have tendencies to get with people then not tell me!” She laughs, “Who was it again? There was Mattsun, and then his best friends? You have a tendency to go for the whole group.”

“No, no, I did not do anything with anyone tonight.” You reply, “I mean, I wanted to… don’t get me wrong, but I had a feeling no one was down.”

“Ugh, boo!” She groans, “Shit, okay, I need to change.” Niki thinks aloud, standing up from the mattress, “God, I’m so fucking ready to knock out and have the best fucking sleep of my life.”

Your best friend opens up her closet, digging out a big t-shirt and shorts. “God, I need some fucking water.” You mumble, tossing the dirty makeup wipes into the bin, “I peed like five times at the party.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Niki snorts, slipping through that big t-shirt of hers.

“Dehydration is the biggest cause of hangover headaches,” you inform. “We’ve got two more parties coming up, and I’d like to be in good shape for the next forty-eight hours of ragers.” You exit the bathroom, then dig into your bag to change into pyjamas.

Simple. Shorts and a tank. You walk back into the bathroom, half closing the door as you get changed. “Okay, so go downstairs and get water.” Niki says, stating the obvious.

“Can you come with me?” You ask from the bathroom.

“What? No, go by yourself.” She says, “You’ve been here a billion times before, my parents see you more than they see me. This is practically your second home, why do you need me to come with you?”

You adjust your tank top before stepping out into the bedroom, “Niki! Your brother is downstairs, I don’t want to go down there alone.” You plead, “If it was just us, or your mother, then yeah, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Girl,” your best friend looks at you as if you’re crazy. “It’s Rintaro, he probably won’t even clock that you’re down there. He’s not the brightest in the bunch, he’s studying business.”

“Yeah, but like, can you just… please?”

“You’ll be fine! He’s just Rintaro, and he’s probably high as fuck.” She assures, “He’s probably too stoned to care.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” You dramatically sigh, trudging towards the closed bedroom door. “I feel so betrayed right now.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Niki laughs. “Hey, and since you’re going down there, get the big water bottles from the fridge and get those crab or prawn crackers from the pantry.” She adds, finding a perfect opportunity to stuff her face with snacks.

Although, Niki is underestimating how tired she really is, because the second she gets comfortable in bed – she will be out like a light. Niki has always been a quick sleeper, she claims it’s iron deficiency.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” You wave her off, mentally preparing yourself as you walk down those steps.

As you navigate towards the kitchen, there’s music playing quietly from the TV in the dark living room. Rap, hip-hop, 21 Savage. And no doubt, there’s Rintaro sitting on the couch, a weed pen between his lips as he sprawled out on the couch, the dim light from his laptop casting shadows on his face.

Lord knows what overdue assignment he’s working on, or how he can possibly be in the right state of mind to write a 2,800 word essay before the – extensions – deadline.

Still, he lays on the couch, inhaling that condensed form of THC. Wearing sweats and a flannel that has been – purposely – unbuttoned. The way he sees it, is if you can wear those little black shorts with the white rims, he can unbutton his flannel.

Now, never in a million years did he think he’d find himself attracted to you. It’s not meant to be an insult, but after watching you go through the most unflattering, awkward, phases and being his little sister's best friend… this new change, of seeing who you are now hit him like a pile of bricks.

Besides it’s not fair to see you parade around in those clothes, unknowingly teasing him. The past couple days have been hell, a game of look but never touch. You’ve been connected at the hip with Niki, you’ve been avoiding him.

Talking loudly about these random guys who looked ‘so fit’ at whatever party. Yeah, he’s heard those late night conversations you’ve been having. Niki doesn’t know how to close a door, and the walls are quite thin.

Rintaro just wants a little fun, he wants to poke the bear, he wants to mess with you. Nothing serious. Just something to keep him entertained, being home has been extremely boring, and the last thing he wants to do is hang around a bunch of high schoolers at parties.

His eyes glance up from his laptop screen, watching you like a fox, as you walk into the kitchen. He watches you as you grab that litre water bottle from the fridge, then dig into the pantry for those god awful prawn crackers.

Rintaro gets up from the couch and approaches you. This is his chance, his chance to have a little fun, to get into your head with some sadistic ploy that will now doubt keep you up at night. Nothing more than a little flirty comment.

“Fun night?” He hums, catching you off guard as you hold the heavily inflated packet to your chest. “It seems like you and Niki are out every day, how many parties could there possibly be?”

“You should know, you went through the same thing.” You comment, calmly, nonchalantly. You can’t let him see that he gets to you in a way no one else does.

Rintaro is the type of guy who is attractive and knows it. He’s cocky, and until now, barely gave you the time of day – or looked at you the way he’s doing now. It’s obvious, it’s in his eyes, one of the main reasons you’ve been avoiding him.

He’s giving you the look that you’re no stranger to.

You know what he’s doing, and lord knows you’ve played these exact same games in the last couple months. Nevertheless, that doesn’t excuse the pick up of your heart, or the slight shake in your hands as you talk to him. Rintaro is a tall guy, he’s intimidating, and on top of it all, crazy attractive.

Anybody would be nervous.

Even you, with your big mouth and presented confidence.

“But yeah, it was a good night.” You add, walking over to the counter to grab the bottle of water. You can’t be gone for long, that would only raise questions from the very best friend who is waiting upstairs for her snacks.

Or so you think, at this moment, Niki is knocked out on her bed – late night scrolling on socials instantly sent her to sleep – as what was previously mentioned, Niki underestimated how tired she was.

“Anything interesting happen?” Rintaro asks, resting back against the countertop. “From what I heard Rina is about to get shunned from the friend group,” he teases.

“Well, she wouldn’t have to worry about that if she had backed off.” You reply, “Never go for a friend's man, that’s claimed territory.”

“What about brothers?” He muses, “Are they off limits too?”

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, that was corny. “Yeah, I’d say they are.” You nod, fighting back the temptation to playfully flirt back. “It’s worse if this brother is someone you’ve known since you were thirteen.” You shrug.

“Well, if I could plead the case that the brother probably didn’t want to push any boundaries before, and didn’t see the sister's friend as a proper… prospect.” He says, “Besides, no fifteen-year-old would ever consider looking at someone younger. That’s weird.”

“How is it different now?” You question, “It’s still two years.”

“Eighteen is an appropriate age for a respectable gap of that size,” Rintaro hums. “It’s not like I’ll be playing on an illegal field either.”

“‘I’ll’?” You repeat, “What are you implying Rintaro?”

There you go, you’ve caught him. May as well surrender and stop whatever he’s planning. A real shame though, you’d be lying if you say you’ve never considered or thought about what it’d be like. It’s just that, he’s your best friend's brother.

Sure, the song is a good escape and great material to think about, but it’s not something you actually ever considered pursuing. He makes you nervous, even talking to him now feels like a crime. And the fact that you’re flirting doesn’t make the situation any better.

“I’m not implying anything,” he shrugs. “And I don’t know what possibly drew you to that conclusion,” he says. “Are you implying something?”

“Well, I don’t see any reason for something to be implied.” You shake your head, “All I’m wondering is why you brought up the concept of brothers being off limits, as if anything like that has stopped you before.”

“Oh, wow, you’ve got a sharp tongue.” Rintaro remarks, “Flirting with me, and patronising me at the same time. I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“That’s nice, but I should get back to Niki.” You say, “You know, your sister, my best friend, who is currently upstairs.”

“Oh, come on, you and I both know that she’d probably be knocked out in bed.” He comments, “Stay down here for a while, I could use the company.”

“I know what you’re doing, Rintaro.” You inform, “I see it in your eyes, and it’s not going to happen.”

He’s been looking at you as if you’re prey. And the alcohol still in your system makes it a lot easier to talk to him without stuttering over your words or getting flustered. His stare is probably the worst part about this whole interaction.

“What am I doing?” He asks.

He’s failed to realise that it’s hard to play a player. If you were considering flirting back, it’d be sly. The small hand placements, comments, the simplest of looks that would trap him in. You have your system, and it works. It worked for Matsukawa and all his friends.

And it would have worked on Rintaro.

“You know what you’re doing,” you hum. “Now, I will be heading back upstairs. Lord knows I’m not drunk enough to betray my best friend.”

“And I’m not high enough to not care about the consequences,” Rintaro shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I still don’t want to do it.” He takes a step closer to you, grabbing the items in your hand and places them down on the countertop.

“You cannot be serious right now,” you shake your head. Sure, you knew that he was trying to play you, use you for a little entertainment, but you didn’t actually think he was being serious. You didn’t actually think he’d make a move.

And no, he’s not expecting anything to happen or to come from this. He’s pushing his limits, seeing how far he can get until you end up running off. If anything, what’s persuaded him to be so forward is the sight of that little gummy bear charm hanging from your necklace. That stupid pink charm that you and Niki got as a symbol of your friendship or whatever.

That stupid pink charm that dips down to the crevice of your chest – something he hasn’t seen before, considering, in the past, they’d always be hidden behind a hoodie or some unflattering t-shirt.

“I’m being serious,” he hums. Going along with some bit he’s come up with in his head. His fingers wrap around that little pink gummy bear as he plays with it.

“Don’t do that, don’t even try Rintaro.” You shut him down, looking up into those striking pair of eyes, “Niki is upstairs. What would she think if she came down here and saw this?” You question, swatting his hand away.

Curse your fucking loyalty.

Rintaro rolls his eyes, placing his hands on either side of you on the counter, trapping you between his arms. “Niki this, and Niki that. She’s not down here, is she?” He questions, “What if Niki wasn’t a problem? Because, it seems like your only defence here is that she’s upstairs.”

“That’s because she is,” you say. “I can’t possibly encourage this type of… behaviour with you. You’re her brother.”

“What if I wasn’t?” He hums, “Would you change your mind then?”

“Will you let me go if I tell you?” You ask, wanting to get out of this situation before anything bad happens.

“Yeah, I will.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. And the sight of looking down at you, the flash of darkness in your eyes, it all sends Suna off a ledge. This must be what happens when he pokes the bear. There’s something behind your eyes, something that fucking pulls him in. That has him thinking this isn’t a joke, or a game anymore.

“If you weren’t my best friend's brother, then yes, I would change my mind.” You reply truthfully, “Honestly, if I were drunk enough, or bold enough, I would change my mind. I’d even risk saying that if Niki weren’t upstairs right now, I’d change my mind.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” Rintaro hums. “It’ll be a temporary fix, nothing serious. No one has to know.” He composes himself, trying to steer the conversation back to his control. He can’t show weakness.

He can’t show how much he wants it now.

“As much as I love temporary fixes,” you begin, “and the idea of sneaking around… I don’t think it’s the best idea.” Now you’re teasing him, running your hands down his flannel. He can’t poke the bear and not expect to get bitten.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this, you know you’ve been so back and forth, but you can’t help but find some fun in this situation. It’ll be like one prolonged drum roll, an ellipsis, something which implies more but is never finished or reveals an ending.

“Well sometimes we have to be selfish,” he whispers. The tension building up in his veins, blood, and mind. “And the best ideas aren’t always the smartest.” His hand moves to play with the ends of your shorts, the faint linger of his touch brushing against your thigh, up to your hips to the hem of your shorts.

“I shouldn’t.” Correction, you shouldn’t be the one to make the first move. If he wants this, he will make the first move – despite everything which was just said, you won’t stop him. There’s something electrifying about the light touches, the tension you helped escalate.

He wanted to play a game, and a game is what you’re giving him.

“You shouldn’t, but you can.” Rintaro mumbles, unbeknownst to the fact that you’ve managed to have him wrapped around your finger in a matter of seconds – of playing dumb – due to the simple trick of making him feel wanted.

“Lord knows I can, but what about Niki?”

“She can go fuck herself.” He says, immediately connecting his lips with yours in a heated kiss.

Kissing Rintaro is nothing like you’ve experienced, kissing him is like daring to run over knives or fire, it’s a rush of adrenaline caused by a strike of lightning. Kissing him is like knowing you’re doing something bad, but it’s too addictive to pull away. His eyes close, hands firmly placing themselves on your hips.

Rintaro pulls you closer to him, your hands tangling themselves in his hair. He gives in, kissing you with a growing desperation, arms snaking around your waist. Mouths linking together in a mess, tongue slipping past.

He can taste the remnants of alcohol on your tongue, and you can smell the weed that has attached itself onto his clothes.

He’s deep and urgent, pushed by the forces and temptation of a quick temporary fix, an illicit affair, and clandestine meeting. His hands travel down to your ass, underneath your shorts, holding the flesh in his hands.

His touch lingers down to your thighs, Rintaro lifts you up onto the counter. Your hands run down his bare chest, and he shudders at your touch. Cold fingertips trailing down his body, to then pull at the drawstrings of his sweats.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You know that Niki could come downstairs at any moment and see the position you’re currently in; legs wrapped around her older brother, his hands exploring his body, learning every curve and crevice. Entangled together, connected by a messy kiss fueled by boredom, and frustration.

Out of breath and completely intoxicated by the moment. Suna’s hand travels up, tugging down the tank top. Exposed to him, the chill of the night in the cold. He moves down, kissing your neck, throat, and the slope of your shoulders. Lips attaching themselves onto your chest, tongue placed flat against your nipple.

His breaths come in harder, faster. Your hands threaded in his hair, clinging to him in this ice-cold heat you’ve been placed in. Pulling at the roots, bringing him back up to your lips. Suna’s hand replaces his mouth, beginning to knead the flesh.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you breathe out. He’s moving away from your lips, moving down to nibble and bite at the sensitive skin on your neck and jaw.

“But it feels good doesn’t it?” Rintaro hums against your neck, holding your body against his chest, trying to devour every piece of you he can. Loving the way you shudder at his touch, and the shortness of your breath. “I know you want me, because god knows, I want you. It’s only one night princess.”

He returns to hover over you, head tilted down as he uses his thumb and index finger to bring your chin up. Looking down at you with a sinful glint in his eyes, grinning at you like the devil. Almost obsessed with the seemingly innocent, wide eyed look in your eyes, slightly parted lips.

His thumb drags down your bottom lip, continuing to tilt your head up at him, keeping your gaze in place. “Come on, one night is not bad. Nothing is wrong with a little quick fix.”

“Well, I’d rather not risk my morals, and integrity for something quick.”

A flame ignites behind those eyes, a quirk of his eyebrow. “Whatever you say,” he says. Rintaro hoists you off the counter, your legs wrapped around his torso, as he carries you towards the couches. He throws you down onto the cushions, wraps his fingers around the bundled up fabric of your tank top and pulls it over your head.

Then he drops down to his knees, in front of you. He tugs down your shorts along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed on the couches. Rintaro pushes your legs apart, “Keep them open for me.” He smiles, pulling your body closer to his face.

His tongue darts out, lips enveloping themselves around your clit. He uses a free hand aiding the stimulation. He’s devouring your cunt as if he’s never eaten before, as if he’s intoxicated by the feeling of the moment and the sinful act of going down on his younger sister's best friend out in the open on the couch.

Savouring your taste on his tongue, his fingers prodding your entrance.

Your back arches, throwing your head back. Chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, quiet and hushed whimpers escaping from your lips. One hand gripping onto the cushion behind you as the other pulls roughly on his hair. Hips bucking up, obsessed with the insatiable sensation of Rintaro’s tongue on your clit and fingers curling inside you.

Suna hooks your legs over his shoulders, diving deeper into your cunt. Willingly obliging to the fact you’re pushing him closer. At the twitch of your legs, Rintaro quickens his movements, wanting to milk you and push you towards your orgasm.

Whimpers and muffled moans, a strain of fuck, don’t stop, although the most motivating of them all is the pretty sound of his name slipping off your tongue. “Rin,” you say. A fire burning up in your abdomen, as he begins to leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your clit up to your stomach and chest.

In the absence of his tongue, his fingers move quickly against your clit – forceful movements – determined to have you reach your peak. Your hips jolt forward, lost in the haze of pleasure that succumbs you.

Eyes clenched shut and mouth agape, it’s a fucking sinful sight.

Suna reconnects his lips with yours in a sloppy makeout, drowning out your moans and taking them in as his own. A result of his fingers, you’re shivering under him, so needy and desperate. “Go on sweetheart,” he whispers. The pads of his fingers rubbing harshly against your sensitive clit.

Your nails dig into his back, forehead leaning against his shoulder as you feel yourself reach climax. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” breathing out, your body growing weak under his touch. Mind spinning from pleasure.

Strained whines, legs pushed back as he milks out your orgasm. Rintaro hovers over you, impressed by his own work and your finger and tongue fucked expression. He runs another finger through your folds, lapping up the cum and saliva.

Using his free hand, Suna grips the back of your head, tugging harshly at the roots of your hair as he forces you to look at him. Then forces his fingers past your lips and onto your tongue, “Suck.” He instructs. Reluctantly, your lips wrap around his fingers as he slowly pulls them from your mouth.

There you are, tired eyes, and completely vulnerable and exposed underneath hin. But the little smirk that appears on your lips. You sit up, pushing him back against the couch. Cocky as ever, Suna sits back, memorising the beautiful sight in front of him.

He watches you with lustful eyes as you work your way down his body, tugging down his sweats. Your hand wrapping around his dick, stroking it, pumping him. Rolling your wrist over the tip, milking out the precum.

“You got a rubber?”

“I’ll pull out,”

You shrug, placing a hand on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the couch and keeping him down. Lining his dick with your entrance, you lower yourself onto him. The sensation, and feeling, of your walls clenching around his dick sends him spiralling.

His head rolls back, hands reaching up to grip at your hips. You roll your hips, finding all the right places for you, and absolutely driving him insane. She begins to lift, setting up a steady rhythm. “Oh, fuck, you little tease.” Suna breathes out.

He has laboured breaths at the irresistible and mind-fucking feeling of you taking him in all so well, your tight little cunt that sends him off the edge. Getting to have you all, without a barrier. The rise and fall of your hips, bouncing on top of him. A hand reaching up to your chest to grab a tit, a thumb running over your nipple.

You grab his wrist and pin it back behind his head, “No touching.”

“We’ll see about that,” he groans. Quickly changing your positions, flipping you around until you're face down on the couch. Suna lifts your hips up, pushing down on your back to create an arch. He keeps a hand on the back of your head. He pushes his dick inside, causing you to intake a sharp breath. “What was that sweetheart?” He teases.

A firm hand placed on the side of your ass, as thrust into you. A quiet “fuck” sounds from his throat as he begins to fist your hair in his hand. He rolls his hips, roughly, forcefully pushing into you. Bottoming out to reach the deepest part of you.

Breath taken away from you, gripping onto the fabric of the couch. Back arching at an insane angle, “Ah,” you moan. He snaps his hips forward again, feeling weak and heavy from the current position, and the consistent thrusts coming from Suna.

His movements become harsher, rougher, as he pounds into you. He pulls your head back by your hair, leans forward until his chest is placed against your back. Suna connects your lips in a roush kiss, biting down on your bottom lip.

Although, he quickly disappears again, lost in the moment. His hands gripping onto your hips as he pulls you to him, matching his thrusts. You begin to lose any ounce of strength left in your body, letting your upper body lay slack on the couch.

Suna lands a slap on your ass, kneading the flesh as he continues to thrust into you from behind. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “You feel so good,” he hums, “fuck, I want to see your pretty fucked out face.”

He pulls out, flips you around, hoisting your leg over his shoulder. He wraps a hand around your throat, basking in the way you grip onto his wrist. Looking at him with those half-lidded eyes, as he pushes into you. Loving the way your pussy sucks him in, loving the look of his dick moving in and out of your cunt.

He picks up the pace, eyes fixed on your chest and how they bounce given each forceful buck of his pelvis. “Faster,” you whimper, gripping onto his hair. “Fuck me,” you plead.

Suna pounds into you with relentless speed, and under him you’re falling apart. Becoming nothing more than a limp body that had been taken over by an overwhelming amount of stimulation and force. With the growing pit in your loins growing incredibly, the heel of your foot digging into his back. Dark vision growing blurry, mind clouding – blocking any thought or action, temporarily blocking your senses as you started to reach your peak.

Your pussy clenching around his dick, it sends Rintaro off a spiral, and he’s threatening to break. You’re close, so close, and all you need is one last push. His hips slam into you, body filling with pleasure as your orgasm rides out.

Suna quickly pulls out in time, cumming all over your stomach. He crashes down onto you, snaking an arm around your waist as he rests his head onto chest. Your hand brushing his hair, trying to regain your breath.

“So, how long are you going to be in town for?”

“Until graduation, why? Wanna do it again?”

“I’d like to hear those whimpers again.”

#✰ workie works #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintaro fic #hq x reader #hq smut

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bteezxyewriter12 · 5 months ago

Text

Play with Me

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.6k

Includes- Interrupted masterbation, masturbation, brief blow job, pussy eating, cum eating, voyeurism (Boys listen to them through door), missionary, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

“Fuck, yeah”, I moan, sitting in my computer chair

I stare at the picture on my phone, while my hand moves up and down on my cock

The picture is one of the pictures Joanne posted on her Instagram

She’s so fucking hot and beautiful

I’ve wanted her since I first saw her five years ago

She’s BTS’ makeup artist and she became one of our best friends

It doesn’t help that she’s downstairs somewhere

The clothes she’s wearing today, fuck

She doesn’t normally dress that way

I love any kind of clothes she wears

But today…

She’s wearing skin tight skinny jeans and a fucking tight crop top

Her gorgeous stomach is all on display with her tattoos and fucking sexy as hell belly button piercing

Her beautiful cleavage is all out because of the v-neck style of her shirt

Her ass is fucking perfect in those pants

I’d usually be downstairs, just drooling over her but I couldn’t take it

I had a hard on since she walked in two hours ago

I just had to leave and jerk off or I was going to die

It’s not just sex

I really like her a lot too

I mean she’s nice, sweet and hilarious

Fucking gorgeous

She makes me laugh all the time

Her personality is amazing

I fell for her a long time ago

“God fuck Joanne”, I moan as I continue to stroke myself

Fuck, I wish it was her doing it

But I’m too fucking nervous around her

I can’t even talk to her that much before I shut down

I don’t know what I’d do if I had the chance to be with her

No, I take that back

I’d probably fuck it up

“Joanne, baby, I love when you fuck me”, I groan as I get closer to coming

After this, I’m gonna go back downstairs

And probably get hard again

“Joanne, Joanne, Joanne”, I whimper moving my hand faster, my eyes burning though the picture on my phone

“Yoongi?”, I hear a voice by the door.

I stop in horror

No no no

Why didn’t I lock the door?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Yoongi?”, she calls again

I don’t want to turn to her

I want to go back to five minutes ago where my dumbass makes sure the door is locked

Slowly I turn to her, terrified to look at her

I manage to look up at her and I’m surprised that I don’t see disgust in her face

I see curiosity and…

Want?

What?

She comes inside my room and locks the door

Uh what?

What’s she doing?

“Were you jerking off to me?”, she smirks

I swallow hard and nod

Jesus, I can’t even talk to her

Pathetic

“Really? Do you do it all the time?”

I nod

Why does she want to know?

“It’s ok Yoongi”

It is?

“I touch myself thinking about you all the time”

My mouth drops open

What?

WHAT?

“Yyy..Yyyy”, I stutter

Fuck, get it together Yoongi

“Yyyyou do?”

“Yeah Yoongi. You’re so fucking sexy, why wouldn’t I think about you?”

I have no words

I’m completely blown away

I don’t know what to say

She walks closer to my bed

“I’ve been wanting to play with myself since I got here and saw you.”

She’s gonna make my head explode

I can’t believe she’s saying these things to me

“I saw you, so you can watch me if you want. I’ll show you what thinking about you does to me. If you want?”

“Yes”, I answer with no hesitation

Watch her touch herself to me?

Hell yes

She smiles and takes her shirt off

Oh my god

Her body is fucking gorgeous

She has more tattoos on her ribs

She’s wearing a red lacy see through bra and it looks amazing on her body

It’s barely holding in her large breasts

She unbuttons and unzips her jeans

She wiggles out of them saying, “Sorry I look stupid but these things are so damn tight”

Is she kidding?

“You dddd..don’t look stupid”, I manage to get out

She’s wearing a matching pantie lacy thing and I get so much harder

“Fuck Yoongi, your cock is so hard”, she says biting her lip, “It’s so fucking big”

Jesus, she’s trying to kill me

She’s still staring at my cock and she licks her lips

Fuck

I just want to throw her on the bed and fuck her hard

But I’m too scared to

She takes her bra off and I know my eyes bug out seeing her breasts

I just want to touch them

And lick them

And suck on them

Then she pulls her panties off

My eyes widen

Her body is perfect

Just perfect

I can’t handle it

“Do you like my clothes I’m wearing today? They were just for you”

“Ttttt.”

God, I have to fucking stop stuttering

How she makes me a stuttering mess is crazy

“They are?”

She nods

Fuck, she was trying to get me riled up- and it worked

“I thought they’d get you to finally notice me”, she says

Finally?

I’ve noticed her since the second she walked into our make up room at BigHit

She crawls to the middle of my bed and lays back on my pillows

I’m so fucking turned on, it’s insane

When she opens her legs, I almost fall off the chair

I don’t know how someone’s pussy can be beautiful but hers is

And she’s so fucking wet

“Thinking of you makes me this wet. All the time”, she murmurs

I let a moan slip out

“Fuck, even your moans are sexy”, she whimpers

I watch her move her hand to her pussy and start touching herself

God, how can I last watching this?

I’m ready to cum right now

When she moans, I fucking lose it

I have to stop myself from taking her right now

She moves her hand down and puts two of her fingers inside her pussy

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she moans

My mouth drops open

I don’t know what to do

Her fingers moved in and out

She brings her other hand to her clit and starts rubbing it in circles

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.”, she cries, her head going back on the pillows, eyes closed

This is fucking amazing

I’m extremely happy that she does this to thoughts of me all the time

“Fuck me Yoongi. I want your tongue on me. Fuck”

Oh god

I want to put my tongue on her too

I’ve been wanting to eat her out for the longest time

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me with your huge cock. Please Yoongi”, she moans, moving her hands faster

She’s breathing hard, sweating, small moans and noises coming from her mouth

She takes her fingers out of her, still playing with her clit

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”, she yells, back arching off the bed as she cums

I watch her cum run down her and fall on my bed

Jesus, that’s fucking hot

She keeps rubbing herself, yelling my name again, another orgasm taking over her

I can’t take it anymore

I want her

Now

She’s still playing with herself as I stand

I move on the bed, pull her to me by her legs and run my tongue on her pussy

Fuck

She tastes so fucking good

“Yoongi!”, she moans

“God, you taste amazing. I want to eat you out so much. Can I?”, I ask

She nods, “Yes, yes, Yoongi. You can do whatever you want to me”

Yes

She’s saying everything I ever wanted her to say

“But first”, she pushes me back, “You need to be naked too.”

She pulls my shirt off

“Fuck Yoongi, your body is so beautiful. So goddamn sexy.”, she gasps looking at me

I feel myself blush

No one’s ever told me that

I don’t have abs or a body like Jimin or Jungkook

But hearing her say that about me makes me extremely happy

“Take your pants off”

I immediately stand and take them off the rest of the way

Before I can get back on the bed, she's at the edge of the bed and putting her mouth on my cock

“Fuck”, I yell

She puts all of me in her and starts moving her head back and forth

I feel her tongue running all over me as she sucks

Fuck it feels incredible

I’ve never had a blow job like this

It’s never been so…phenomenal

She knows what she’s doing

She moans

She fucking moans while she’s blowing me

She likes it and is making noises like she’s tasting something amazing

That turns me on so much more

That she loves how my cock tastes

I can cum right now but I don’t want to

I want to eat her out, then fuck her so hard

Gently I move her back and off me, pushing her on her back as I kneel on the floor

I pull her legs, bringing her closer to me, putting her legs on my shoulder

I’m so excited to do this I’ve wanted this so much, for so long

My tongue runs up her pussy and I start sucking on her clit

“Yoongi! God!”, she cries

I noticed that she kept playing with her clit the whole time, so I know that’s a place she loves

I let go and lick her clit over and over

Then I move my tongue and lick up her pussy before sucking on her clit again

“Jesus Yoongi, your tongue is better than I ever imagined”

I smirk

I’m happy she’s enjoying it

I’ve never done this before

I usually just fuck the girl and that’s it

But honestly, she tastes so good and I love doing this to her

I glance up and see her watching me suck her clit

I smirk at her without letting her go and she moans

I love hearing her sounds

I use the tip of my tongue and flick her clit over and over

“Yoongi, oh shit, Yoongi”

Her hand slides in my hair

“Pull”, I command

She pulls my hair and it feels so good

I’m so turned on, anything she does to me feels good

From her breathing and moans I know she’s close

Then someone knocks on my door

“Yoongi?”, Hobi calls

I roll my eyes but don’t stop

I want her to cum

I need to taste it

I need to

“Yoongi? What are you doing? Why are you gone so long? And where’s Joanne?”, Namjoon asks

“Go away”, I yell, then lick her again

“Yoongi”, she cries

“What? Why? What are you doing?”, Jimin asks

Jesus are they all outside my room?

“D…Dddon’t…..stop”, she begs

“I won’t”, I answer quickly, then continue

“What are you doing?”, Jungkook yells

“Eating, go away!”, I shout

“Yoongi….Yoongi”, she moans

“Yeah baby, come on. I want it”, I groan

“What are you eating? All the food is downstairs”, Jin asks

“Cum Joanne. I want to taste it.”

“Yoongi fuck yes Yoongi!”, she screams, coming in my mouth

Holy mother of god, she tastes absolutely incredible

“Oh my god he’s eating out Joanne!”, Tae yells

“More Yoongi. More!”, she screams

I nod and continue to use my tongue on her pussy

Good that she wants more because I’m not stopping

“Ssss..she likes it!”, Jimin says

God, they’re so annoying

Can’t they just leave?

I want to yell at them but I don’t want to take my mouth off her

“I love it”, she yells, “Now go away! We’re not cccc…fuck Yoongi yes….coming out for a long time.”

I laugh against her and she shakes a little

“Fuck Yoongi, that feels good”

“They’re not coming out”, Namjoon repeats

She rolls her eyes, “Yoongi and I are going to fuck each other and be very loud. Go away!”

She’s fucking amazing and I laugh again

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she pulls my hair

“Let’s go. I don’t want to hear this.”, Jin says

I hear their footsteps as they walk away

Finally

I close my lips on her clit again

I suck, then let go, then suck again, then let go

“Yes Yoongi. Don’t stop! Don’t!”

I keep doing it, sucking then letting go

After a few more times, she snaps her hips up putting her pussy more in my mouth and screams while she cums

“Mmmmm”, I moan from how good she is

I slide my tongue inside her, licking her

She shakes and cums again, all over my tongue

It turns me on so much

I love how she tastes

She’s actually my new favorite thing to eat

I can do this all day

“Yoongi!”, she cries, “I want your huge cock in me. Give it to me. I want it. I want you”

Fuck, she wants it I’m giving it to her

I love hearing how much she wants me

Just as much as I always wanted her

I really love that she feels the same way

I get up and climb on the bed

She moves back so I have room

I grab her legs and hold them open

I rub her pussy with my cock and tease her, “You want it Jo? You want me inside you?”

“Yes Yoongi. Yes. Don’t you want to be inside me too?”, she asks, looking at me her eyes big and looking innocent - yeah right

“Yeah Jo. I want nothing more than to be inside you.”, I answer

“Then do it Yoongi. I want you so much.”

God I want her so much too

I slide my cock inside her, yelling from how good, how tight she feels

“Oh my God, oh my god!”, I shout

“Yoongi, ahhh, Yoongi”, she yells

“Jesus Jo. You’re so fucking tight and wet. You feel amazing!”, I praise her

She just makes moaning noises I love

I move back and thrust back in

“Fuck!”, I yell

I can cum right now, this second

I don’t know how I’m going to fuck her for long

It just feels so…..goddamn fantastic

No other girl I’ve been with felt like she does

No other girl has been so fucking tight

I love being in her pussy

I move again, faster, pounding into her, forcing myself not to cum yet

Making her scream and yell

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi. I love your cock. I love you fucking me”

I groan and keep moving

I can’t stop

I don’t want to

“Shit baby, your pussy was made for me”, I cry as I slam into her again and again

“It’s all yours Yoongi. Whenever you want. It’s yours”, she shouts

Yes, yes, yes

I want it

I want her to be mine, want to be the only one she fucks

I want her to be the only one who fucks me, want to be hers too

“My cock is yours Jo. My tongue is yours. Anytime you want them, you can have them. They’re only for you. No one else”, I blurt out

“Yoongi, god”

I thrust inside her and when I hit her spot, she screams so loudly

I love hearing her

It gets me off

“Harder Yoongi. Fuck me harder”, she yells

I nod and slam harder into her making sure I hit that place again

Another scream

Another slam makes her let out another scream

I thrust again and she screams my name, her pussy clamping on my cock, body shaking as she cums

Holy shit, the pleasure from her coming is unbelievable

The way she’s pulling on me is insane

I want to cum but I want to make her cum more

I love the way it feels

Every thrust keeps hitting her in that spot and within a few seconds she cums again

And it feels like heaven

More slamming causes another orgasm

And another and another

We’re both sweating so much but I don’t care

I’m so lost in her and I don’t want it to end

I pound in again and her back comes off the bed causing her to thrust her hips at the same time as me

She takes all of me so deep inside, I yell loudly

“YOONGI!”, she screams, releasing all over me and I can’t fucking take it anymore

Ecstacy floods my body and I cum so hard, deep inside her

I never came this hard before and it’s never felt so fucking incredible

“Yoongi, Yoongi”, she whispers my name over and over

I love hearing my name coming from her mouth

I want her to hold me just as much as I want to hold her

Just pull her closer to me and stay with her

I lay down next to her and she automatically turns to me, snuggling into me

And my arms automatically go around her and hold her close

I’m trying to breathe normally as thoughts race through my mind

I don’t want her to leave

I don’t want things to go back the way they were

I want her

I want her to smile her gorgeous smile at me, laugh when I say something funny, hug and kiss me all the time, tell me she loves me, hold her hand, just be with me

Fuck

Realization hits me right in my chest

I love her

I always said I didn'twant to love someone, it’d hurt too much when they eventually leave because of my career

I don’t know how or when, but I fell in love with her

Damn it

I know that she thinks I’m hot and sexy and that she wants sex from me

I don’t think she likes me like that at all

Definitely not love

I don’t know what to do

I want her so much, but I’m so scared to say anything

She puts one arm around my body, “Yoongi, I love being with you”, she sighs, “Even just laying here with you is amazing. Don’t let go”

I tighten my grip on her while my mind is screaming at me

’Tell her’

’Don’t let her get away from you’

’She wants you like you want her’

’Ask her to be yours’

’NOW’

“Uh Joanne, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah Yoongi.”, she answers

“Do you uh, wanna, uh….”, I trail off

“Yes”

My eyes shoot down to her and she’s looking up at me, smiling

God her smile is going to kill me one day

“Whatever it is, yes.”

“Uhh…”

She giggles and it’s the cutest thing in the world

“Just ask Yoongi”, she reaches up and strokes the side of my face

I close my eyes against her touch

I love the feeling

Force my eyes open, I ask, “Joanne, do you want to be with me? Like be my girlfriend?”

I’m so scared of her answer

“Yes Yoongi. A million times yes. I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been waiting for you for years.”, she responds

Years?

She’s wanted me for years too?

“Really?”, I ask

“Yeah Yoongi. I fell for you so long ago. You had such a bad boy image when I first met you and honestly in the beginning I just wanted to fuck you. My type of guy is more like Hobi. Hilarious, outgoing, silly.”

Hobi?

She liked Hobi?

She wants someone like Hobi?

“You weren’t like that but there was something about you. And after getting to know you, you’re everything Hobi is and more. You’re everything I could ever want”

I smile at that

“I’ve been waiting for you to notice me. I figured you would never because of all the beautiful idols you’re around all the time. Why would you want me, when you could have them?”

“I don’t want them”, I assure her, “I want you. I only ever wanted you from the first day I saw you. Yeah I just wanted sex first like you, but once I got to know you, I wanted you. And I still do.”

“Good because I want you too.”, she smiles

I smile back at her

“I love your smile Yoongi. It’s one of my favorite things about you. It’s so beautiful.”

My smile is nothing compared to hers

“Joanne…I love you. I love you so much you have no idea. I’m crazy in love with you. It’s always been you”, I blurt

Shit shit shit

I sound like such a pathetic idiot

“I love you too Yoongi. So much. I’m so in love with you, it’s ridiculous. You’re all that’s on my mind, all the time. It’s always been you too Yoongi. Always.”, she admits

I feel my face break into a huge smile as I lean to her lips and kiss her for the first time

Holy fuck

Fucking stars burst in my vision from her kiss

I absolutely love it

She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me back

When the kiss ends, she asks shyly, “Can we take a little nap? Sleeping in your arms has been one of the things I want to do the most with you.”

“I’d want nothing more than to take a nap with you Jo. It’s something I’ve wanted to do too, for a long time.”

She kisses me again and snuggles into me more

“I love you Yoongi”, she says

“I love you Joanne.”

I hold her close to me, her head on my chest, arms around her

I run my fingers through her soft hair, listening to her breath as she falls asleep

“I love you”, I whisper to her

Even though she’s sleeping, her arms squeeze me closer

I kiss her head, then close my eyes and fall asleep

#bts yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts suga fanfic #suga fanfic #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts suga smut #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

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w0rmm1lk · 1 year ago

Note

Heeeyyy you take requests right??

Bakugou x reader who’s Aizawa’s daughter where it’s reader’s birthday and Bakugou is planning this big surprise for them?? I think it would be super cute loll

sure!

character: Katsuki Bakugo(romantic), Shota Aizawa(Platonic)

reader: Aizawa Fem!child

Summary: bakugo wants to surprise his girlfriend on her birthday— but needs some help. Unfortunately Mina’s help wasn’t enough and he would need to specifically ask aizawa.

warnings: possible ooc, swearing,

other: established relationship, reader is in 1A, takes place during first year.

(I kinda failed at this one I’m so sorry— getting use to writing Fem!reader)

You and bakugo had been dating for about 4 months at this point. It wasn’t that long of a time yet bakugo had already met your parents. Well— that was mainly due to your father being both of your teachers.

bakugo knew your birthday was coming up soon. He would never admit to it but he had multiple reminders on his phone so he wouldn’t forget. It was your first birthday you would spend together while dating… despite that he wanted it to be a birthday for you to remember.

unfortunately for him, you can’t plan a big birthday for someone without help.

“Hey bakugo— what’s with all the staring? It’s kinda creeping me out-“ Denki speaking snapped bakugo out of his thoughts. He sent a glare in his direction. “Shut the hell up dunce face.”

“oooo~ thinkings about Y/N~~?” Minas voice broke through as she sat at the lunch table next to the two. “Tch- as if.” Mina laughed slightly at his response. “On the topic of Y/N, you get her anything for her birthday yet?” Bakugo seemed to freeze up at the question.

“oh my god have you actually not bought anything yet-? That seems weirdly unlike you!” “shut up I- I just want to make sure I buy the right thing.”

“Hmmm~? Then why don’t we help you out later then!” Mine suggested slightly leaning over the table, you could see her eyes sparkle.

“in your dreams! I can do it on my own.” He rolled his eyes, his arms crossed as he was slouched in his seat.

“cmon~~! Just let us tag along!” Mina was leaning so far over the table so her face was right up infront of bakugo. “Cmon man! You should totally let us come with!”

bakugo flinched slightly, he hasn’t even noticed kirishima had sat down beside him. “Ugh fine-! Just shut up already will ya?”

the “searching for a gift for Y/N” didn’t take long to turn into “Mina drags everyone through every store in the damn mall”

the results were— disappointing to say the least.

“ooo-! Let’s get her this necklace!”

“How much money do you think we have?!”

“this shirt is pretty cute-!”

“I’ve seen five seperate people wearing that on the way here- no way.”

“we could just go with the classic chocolates.”

“that’s too basic!”

and so on.

“Damnit— there’s nothing good enough in this shit hole.”

Denki turned to bakugo. “I mean— can we just ask her close friends what she wants? Maybe to get some ideas-?”

“dumbass— we are her close friends. Who the hell are we supposed to ask if none of us have any good ideas?!”

“I mean we could always ask—“

“don’t you dare.”

“cmon man! It’s not like we have much of a choice!”

and this is how bakugo found himself standing outside of the 1A classroom after school had ended. If none of Y/N’s closest friends knew what to buy her— then the next best person to ask was… her dad.

Bakugo hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. He was met with silence. He rolled his eyes not bothering to knock again as he walked right in.

of course he was met with a yellow sleeping bag on the floor fully zipped up. He let out an annoyed sigh about to leave before he heard the zipper come undone. he looked back to see the sleeping bag nowhere to be found and I aizawa standing in its place.

“what do you need?” Aizawa spoke in his normal monotone yet mildly annoyed voice. “I— I need help with something.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, it was unlike bakugo to go to someone for help, especially his teacher. This caused aizawa a small bit of worry but he didn’t show it.

“…with?” Bakugo looked away slightly as if embarrassed to say the next words. “It’s- about Y/N” he could feel aizawa gaze peircing through his skull. Aizawa eyes were glowing a bright red as his hair floated slightly.

“did something happen to her?” Despite asking a question it sounded more like a demand. “No! I just- i Need help with… something….” Aizawa softened his gaze, his hair and eyes returning to normal.

“do you know what kind of things… she likes…?”

“you’ve been dating for how long and you don’t even know what she likes?”

“no-! I- that’s not what I meant! Tch. I mean like— more personal things!”

Bakugo let out an annoyed sigh rolling his eyes. “I don’t even know why I bothered aski—“ “wait.” Bakugo turned back to aizawa. “I have a few things that may be useful.

needless to say— you got basically everything that you could even think of wanting on your birthday, it was a little concerning since you weren’t aware how bakugo learned about all the specific items you wanted, but— you were still happy.

(I am so sorry the end was kinda shit— im so fucking tired lmao)

#mha x female reader #bnha x female reader #x female reader #bakugo x female reader #bakugou x fem!reader #mha x fem!reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #Platonic!Aizawa #Platonic mha x reader

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darsynia · 2 months ago

Text

Don't Read the Last Page | Chapter 3 (Tony/Reader)

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 4,200 | none (future smut!!)

My Tony tag list is basically in shambles, going commando here, blame the surgery haha. Had this half done and decided to YOLO and finish editing.

OH FFS I PUT CHAPTER TWO AND IT'S THREE. BLAME THE EYE!

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Prev | Next

Exerpt:

“A conscience? You haven’t done anyth--” you start to say, but he interrupts you with mercurial suddenness.

“I’m dying. I want to touch you, and I’m dying, so I want to do it now. Not in a week, not tomorrow, not when I’m sober, now. But I can’t get out of the suit. I’m stuck.” His expression is bleak, and he’s watching you like he knows what you’re going to say. You say the first thing you think of, because it’s obvious he’s expecting it.

“That sounds like a lie meant to manipulate.”

“You’re right. Eighteen months ago I might have said I was dying to persuade a woman to sleep with me and not even feel bad. Eighteen months ago it wouldn’t have been true.”

Chapter Three: Gone With the Wind

Just when you thought the night couldn’t get more chaotic, someone wearing a silver version of Stark’s suit interrupts his drunken microphone speech and tells him to ‘shut it down.’

Natasha pulls you into an alcove shortly before the crowd stampedes away from the coming confrontation.

“Bad planning. They’re running away from him, sure, but that’s not towards an exit,” Nat laments. Seconds later, the two Iron Man suits power past you through multiple walls, the crowd panics, and you hear someone calling out for help. It’s the DJ.

Nat refocuses on you. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do: go upstairs, turn left, go up to the keypad on the second door and put in 1122. That’s my code. You should be safe in there. If you get too worried, head into the bathroom, those are always reinforced.”

“You want me to stay here?”

“He’ll associate me with the party, he already likes you, and someone’s got to stick around to keep an eye on him. Please?” Natasha is offensively good with puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh, all right. Are you going to help the DJ?” you ask. Nat nods and makes a shooing motion. You start up the stairs, slipping your shoes off and running when you feel the whole building shake. You barely make it into the bathroom (because yes, reinforced sounds like the only safe place to be, right now) when a gigantic crashing noise and sounds of fighting make you cower in the large bathtub.

There’s only one silver lining, and it’s really freaking thin: even Nick Fury couldn’t blame you for this, right? This could have happened even if you hadn’t ever set foot in the house. Stark was planning to get entirely hammered tonight, you’re completely certain of it. As you huddle in the bathtub (it’s basically hot-tub sized, and you have to laugh at yourself for having the glass doors around it closed, as if that will stop anything) with your high heels beside you, you feel a twinge of conscience.

You want to help.

You’ve always been good at coming up with rationalizations, reasons to do or not do things, and your helpful brain is starting to do that about this, even though you’re basically a Red Shirt in this scenario. The thing is, Stark did seem to want to listen to you, and definitely wanted you to think you were influencing him, even though you are completely sure he was planning to get hammered at the party. You’ve cared about the man for years, though more in a ‘what famous person would you have lunch with’ way than a ‘what famous person’s house do you want to cower in the bathtub of’ way.

In the back of your mind, a gossipy little voice points out that you could have gotten a few kisses and even some groping out of the man if all hell hadn’t broken loose.

Bottom line, aren’t you as qualified as any other ‘pluck a random pretty girl off the street’ candidate to try to persuade this man not to rush headlong into any more disasters?

“Too late, in case you haven’t noticed?” you groan.

On the other hand, if Natasha couldn’t trick him into calming down, what chance do you have? You’ve heard some of her stories, and even back when you thought she was just making shit up, they’d been impressive. Couldn’t Nick Fury find someone else to do his scut work? By the look on Pepper Potts’ face tonight, Stark seems to have alienated her fairly neatly without your help, which is a relief, really, because you’d really hated the subtle implications Fury had made about standing between a burgeoning relationship. You’ve always loved romance novels about two people that everyone else thinks aren’t meant for each other, but it all works out because they have true love.

That gossipy voice in your head really likes that statement, and not because of Pepper Potts. Having Stark’s attention on you had been heady, and you would have been all for it had you not been in such a public place.

You’re certain he would have kissed you if you’d had let him, and just thinking that makes you shiver more thrill than fear, despite your current predicament. Now, though? Now he’s drunk. VERY drunk. Can’t consent drunk. Which is another great reason to get out of here, because if the man you’ve crushed on for years (so maybe you aren’t just interested in his brain after all?? That same voice asks tartly) expresses interest when there’s no crowd, no music, no other eyes on you, you’re still going to have to say no.

The smashing sounds stop, and you can hear arguing instead. Maybe there’s a chance to get out of the house while that happens? You are pretty sure there are holes in the floor, and that’s just not safe.

You stand up. You’re in the middle of picking up your shoes and reaching out to open the glass door so you can climb out of the tub when a gigantic shockwave knocks you off your feet, shaking the house and breaking the glass that surrounds the tub. You hit your head on the faucet as you collapse.

Everything starts to have a dreamlike quality to it, and you can see a few little cuts on your legs and arms. They don’t actually feel like anything, even though you can see the blood. At most, they sting. In any case, you feel like someone has injected you with some kind of drug, because you’re sleepy and don’t really care about anything but huddling up in your tub.

All your instincts are screaming that this is not the time to rest, but it’s too late to listen.

You come back to reality with a headache. Taking stock of your situation, you find that miraculously, you’re not really hurt. There are a few scratches, but that’s it. Either way, you sit up and see that the tub is basically littered with thousands of small chunks of tempered glass. Clearing your shoes of as much glass as you can while you feel woozy, you wipe off the bottom of your feet and put them on, so at least you won’t be stepping on glass to get out.

The process of climbing out makes you rant about the whole situation, and you don’t try to be quiet about it, either. There’s no way you could have predicted that a simple party invite would end up like this!

Though, maybe Nick Fury did?

You frown.

Stark’s voice calls up from somewhere below you. “Hello? Someone up there?” You’re about to respond, frozen on the spot when he continues, making it clear that he’s still affected by the alcohol. “If it’s Pepper, I blame you for inviting Rhodey. I told you he was a killjoy!”

The name sounds familiar somehow, but you can’t place it. Given that the only killjoy you observed was the man in the other Iron Man suit, you’re betting that’s who Stark’s referring to.

“Not Pepper,” you call out.

Technically, you’ve done what he asked. You stuck around. It wasn’t on purpose, though.

When you walk out into the bedroom, you catch your breath. The floor has a hole in it. There are cracks spidering out all around it, and nothing looks structurally sound. You can see the door maybe ten steps away in total-- but you don’t think there’s a safe pathway over to it.

“Shit, now what?” you say to yourself.

A strange sound catches your attention, and you look over toward the hole in the floor to see Stark levitating up through it, using the power of the devices in the hands and feet of his suit.

“Hey, you’re still here! Great.”

He starts sideways, like he’s moving over to land on the section of floor you’re worried about.

“Wait!” you shout. “It’s not safe.”

“Well, look at that,” Stark says. He sounds like he’s looking at a piece of confusing artwork, or a picture of some stranger’s grandchildren. You watch as he maneuvers over to the door, opens it, and lands on the other side. “Seems stable here. No cracks.”

Stark beckons, and you groan inwardly.

“It’s not safe to walk on,” you say, speaking slowly in hopes of getting through to Drunk Stark.

“I can come get you!” he announces brightly.

“I’m not sure you’re in any condition to--”

He’s already levitated over, crouched down, and banded an armored arm around your waist by the time you make it through half of your admonition.

“If anything happens, I’ve got you,” Stark says. You give in against your better judgment, as he doesn’t wait for any confirmation from you to start heading across the cracked concrete. Once you’re through the doorway on the other side, you slump against the wall in relief.

“I wouldn’t have let you fall,” he tells you, leaning over to catch your eye.

“Knowing that and making my scared body believe it are two different things,” you tell him. You watch as he tries to parse that, still a bit too drunk for complicated phrasing. After a few seconds, he just shakes his head and looks you up and down.

“Couple of cuts, but I’m fresh out of band aids. You feel okay?” You nod, and Stark makes a wry face and looks down at himself. “Ordinarily I’d offer to ‘check for broken bones,’” (and he actually does the scare quotes with his armored fingers) “--but I’m kind of screwed into this thing, and the machine I use to get me back out is in pieces.” He does a little shrug thing that makes you smile. Something tells you that when he sobers up, he’ll care that he’s stuck in the suit, but for now he’s fine. Given how destructive his behavior was earlier that night, maybe it’s for the better.

“I was hiding in the tub, which was fine until that last shockwave. I fell down and the glass shower door shattered,” you tell him. It sounds a lot less dramatic than the actual experience, somehow.

“And yet, that damned gold shawl made it through!” he says, waving one gauntlet in the general direction of your chest. “You know, there’s no real evidence I’m not still passed out downstairs,” Stark muses, leaning over to look into the room they just came from. “I’ve had dreams like this. You’re probably not actually real, and I’m just imagining that I have one more present to open for my birthday.”

“And I hit my head, so this might all be an elaborate hallucination where I’m alone with you in your house but you can’t take your armor off,” you joke, reaching up to feel the back of your head. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. You’re drunk and can’t consent.” There’s a small lump there that’s tender, but it doesn’t seem to be anything serious. Stark is silent, and you feel your face flush at your presumption. You glance over at him after counting ten seconds in your head.

He doesn’t seem offended. He seems intrigued. He’s got one hand against the wall a few feet down from you, leaning against it. Stark’s looking at you, his head tipped to the side.

“You’re more relaxed,” he says, sounding confused. “You were here through our whole fight, stuck in a bathtub full of glass next to a room with a hole in it, and here you are joking around with me! You were a nervous wreck earlier!” As he speaks, he punctuates his words with wild hand gestures, pointing and waving until he loses his balance and crashes into the wall beside you. “Okay, definitely still drunk,” he observes in an amused tone. He turns his body so he’s leaning against the wall with his back instead of his face. “I object, by the way. I think I could prove that if I’d consent to fooling around when I wasn’t drunk, drunk me would definitely consent to it, too.”

“I really don’t like crowds,” you shrug in answer to his first question. “And, that’s not how consent works.”

“The real question is whether you would consent,” he says, reaching his hand out to trace his armored fingers along the edge of your shawl.

“That answer isn’t relevant,” you say quietly. He gives up touching the fabric and moves to lift your chin so you look at his face. There’s a question in his eyes, one that looks more genuine than a drunk proposition. “Maybe,” you whisper.

“Better,” he says approvingly. Stark shifts along the wall and winces.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yes. Definitely.”

You see that he’s closed his eyes and is starting to slide down the wall. The house is probably not safe for the long term, but you start looking around for somewhere he can rest that’s more comfy than a hallway. The bedroom you’d been in is out of the question, and Nat’s code doesn’t work on two of the other doors. When you come back, Stark has slid all the way down, and is resting against the wall, his legs splayed out.

“Something tells me your helmet is not comfortable like this,” you murmur, noting the way it leans Stark’s head forward because of the bulk of the armor protecting his head. Awkwardly, you manage to kneel down in your tight dress, thanking fate that the man in front of you is insensate, because he would definitely have had something to say about that. Not that the gossipy voice in your head wouldn’t have enjoyed it. “Excuse me? Mr. Stark?” you say, raising your voice a little.

“Mmm? Oh, it’s you.” he says, opening his eyes and smiling in a dopey way. “I get to unwrap you now, right? Party’s definitely over.”

“Does your helmet come off?” you ask bluntly, ignoring his other comments. You like the sentiment, but being distracted isn’t going to help either of you right now.

Despite that, you will admit to feeling a definite rush of pleased excitement when this famous man you’ve been intrigued by for years said ‘oh, it’s you.’ The way the fates like to fuck with you is in strong evidence, though. First you make friends with a super assassin spy person, and instead of calling you in to help with something really impactful, she makes you go to a party, an activity you’ve never really enjoyed. Then, you get to actually meet Tony Stark, and the man seems genuinely interested in you!? But he’s drunk, and you’ll have to turn him down. It’s really just not fair.

“Ooh, very good idea. We should take it off.” Stark reaches up and runs his armored fingers around the contours of the helmet for a good two minutes, somehow brimming with confidence the entire time. Then he drops his hands. “Yep, can’t remember how.”

“You are completely hopeless,” you laugh. There’s something really adorable about him right now, and it tugs at your heartstrings. He has a party reputation but not so much a drunken one; does anyone even get to see him like this? It feels special in an odd way, but maybe that’s just your mind trying to make the moment something other than a complete mess that you have no idea how to extricate yourself from. Much like Stark and his helmet, actually. “Do you remember how but you can’t quite make your fingers work, or is the knowledge hidden in the amber liquid your brain is steeped in right now?”

“That’s poetic,” he says. He groans and leans his head back, but it doesn’t really work because of the helmet. “It was mostly clear liquid though.”

“Do you want me to try?”

“Kitten, if you want to put your hands on me, I’m all for it,” Stark says.

You’d been kneeling beside him, but when he says that, you sit back on your heels, a bit dazed by the lust-soaked grit in his voice. It’s like you’ve been playing a D&D game and someone just rolled a natural 20 on shifting the tone, or something.

“Uh oh, I lost you again.” He’s back to sounding like a slightly lost, adorable man-child. You’re getting dizzy from the shifts, here, but maybe it’s less dizzy than entranced. He’s still charismatic like this, but far more approachable. It’s dangerous, honestly.

“Pick a mood, Iron Man!” you protest.

“Honestly, don’t take this the wrong way, but if I could pick a mood, it would be asleep.” He does a sad little frown, pressing his lips together in wry disappointment.

“Sleep is good,” you tell him. “The problem is, I don’t know where you could safely do that. I also feel like I probably ought to stay with you until you’re out, because you? are not making good decisions tonight.”

Stark looks at you like you have the answers to all the problems of the universe, then opens his mouth and says, “Donuts.”

“You either hardly ever get drunk or your staff is insanely loyal,” you blurt out in irritation.

“I want donuts. In the morning I’m going to go get some. You should stay. I know a really good place. You can’t miss it, it has a huge donut on the roof. Huge,” Stark says, leaning in as if it’s really important for you to believe him. “I bet I could fit in there.”

His eyes widen and he starts scrambling to his feet, grinning.

“Woah, hold on. You are not qualified to decide what you’re doing or where you’re going right now, okay? Talk to me,” you instruct.

Mentally, you’re making a note to tell Nick Fury that you deserve overtime for this. Like you should start out with time and a half. With hazard pay.

“Bossy!” Stark complains, but he sounds almost enthralled. “No, no, you can trust me. Listen. Step one,” he says, holding up one armored finger. “There’s a couch in the basement. And the walls are gone so it’s not locked anymore, so you don’t need a code.” He grins as if this is some kind of brilliant move he’s made, rather than a result of getting drunk and fighting with expensive, unique technology that has seriously damaged the structural integrity of his million-dollar house. “Step two--” this time he holds up the first finger of his other hand, frowns, then puts the first hand up beside it and nods. “Step two, we use JARVIS to call Happy, so you can take a car home.”

From his buildup you had been convinced this step would be at least somewhat coherent, but it doesn’t make any sense to you at all.

“Let’s work on step one, shall we?”

“Race you!” he says, and you’re forced to watch helplessly as he lifts off, cackling madly, heading for the room with the hole in the ceiling.

It’s clever, ridiculous, and somehow completely Tony Stark. Impulsively, you rip off your shoes and rush down the stairs.

“Shit, I have no idea how to get to the basement!” you exclaim, frustrated. For all you know, Stark flew from one hole to another, but it’s not like you can!

“Forgive the intrusion, but you’ll find them if you take a turn to the right, walk forward until you reach the wall, and turn right again,” a British voice says in a dry voice.

You look around, but you don’t see anyone.

“Does it help if I tell you that I am JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI assistant?”

“Yes, actually, it does,” you say, laughing nervously. You follow the instructions, expecting to see the AI’s physical form. “Stark?”

“I’m not answering to that,” he announces, and you follow the sound of his voice. He’s in a room with, yes, the frames for glass walls, but the walls are gone, just like he said they would be. “It’s Tony or nothing.”

“All right, Nothing, let’s figure out how to get that helmet off,” you say, walking into the room to see that he’s sitting on the couch he’d mentioned. “Could you call your AI down here? He helped me find a non hole in the floor way to get down here.”

Goodnaturedly, Stark nods, then calls out through a smile, “JARVIS, could you manifest a physical presence for my birthday present?”

You’re a bit distracted by being referred to that way, so you miss what he’s really saying until the AI responds.

“I only wish I could, Sir.”

“It was worth a shot,” Stark says.

“He’s a program, not a robot,” you realize aloud.

“Yep,” Stark says, yawning.

Over the next five minutes, you speak with the AI as Stark heckles you both between yawns. As time passes, he seems to be losing the nonstop giddy drunken behavior, inserting morose introspection into the mix.

You find out that ‘happy’ is actually the nickname for the Mr. Hogan you met earlier. He’s at the police station smoothing over the fallout from the fight between Stark and the other man, the ‘Rhodes’ you’d heard Nat and Hogan speaking about. Rhodes apparently left with the other suit, but considering that the device to take it back off is out of commission, it kind of makes sense. It’s not like Stark’s in any condition to fix anything.

With JARVIS’s (slightly snarky, which you kind of love) help, you get Stark’s helmet off.

“Thanks,” he says, launching himself to his feet to look at the black mirror of the flat-screen television across from the couch. He examines the skin of his neck with obvious consternation.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask, worried. You come over, but Stark stumbles back, putting his hands up. The gold shawl catches on a metal gauntlet and is pulled off of you.

“Okay, that was awesome, but I swear I didn’t plan it,” Stark says, waving the arm that’s caught in the shawl like it’s a trophy. Then he looks at you, instead of the shawl. “Oh.”

You are pretty sure your face matches your clothing in hue right now. He’s staring, amusement faded into an admiration that’s almost fierce. Stark’s eyes are glittering, and you can feel the heat of them as he looks up from your chest to your face.

“All teasing about presents aside, I really like the dress,” he says in a quiet, rough voice. He winces, reaches up to rub his eyes or his forehead in some way, but stops, frowning at the metal glove he’s wearing. Stark’s smile is bitter and humorless when he shifts his gaze back to you. “Ever since I’ve gotten back from Afghanistan, my life’s just been irony piled on irony. Fuck, even that term is apropos.”

He collapses onto the couch and groans. You’re completely taken aback. He’s gone from a somewhat expected reaction (you’d known he would like what you’d been covering up, he’s Tony Stark) to this display of utter frustration, but you have no idea why. You suspect Fury might know, though, and that thought makes you worried about the defeated cast of Stark’s shoulders as you watch him grapple with whatever is going on.

“The stupid part is, I didn’t even need to grow a conscience right now, but it’s there,” he says, looking over at you.

“A conscience? You haven’t done anyth--” you start to say, but he interrupts you with mercurial suddenness.

“That sounds like a lie meant to manipulate.”

“You’re right. Eighteen months ago I might have said I was dying to persuade a woman to sleep with me and not even feel bad. Eighteen months ago it wouldn’t have been true.”

Something inside you shifts, clicking into place. It pushes away the guilt you feel about Nick Fury and SHIELD, turns your worry about your deadline into something hazy and indistinct, focusing instead on that thread of interest you’d had for Tony Stark for years. It solidifies that thread into braided wire, and before you even understand it fully, binds the two of you together.

The strength of that shift frightens you. It’s sudden, but durable. You don’t think you’re going to be able to shake it. You’re not sure you’ll want to.

“You look terrified. You should be.” Stark starts tossing the things that had been on the other cushion of the couch off onto the floor. “Go home. Have an uncomplicated life. Maybe come to my funeral.” He turns his body, throws his feet up, and arcs one of his armored arms over his eyes as he leans back on the couch.

“Miss, there is a tonic that mitigates his symptoms. It can be found in the garage refrigerator. It’s possible that part of Mr. Stark’s current melancholy stems from the combination of the effects of the alcohol and the period of time since he’s had any tonic.”

The brusque British voice startles you. “He’s really dying? What--”

“Palladium poisoning,” Stark says from under his arm.

“Tell me where the tonic is,” you say, looking up at the ceiling.

To be continued...

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x f!reader #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #iron man x f!reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #tony stark imagine

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idkfitememate · 10 months ago

Text

I’m Sorry Little Brother

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN Ancient Curse! Reader x Itadori (+ others mentioned)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 3.6k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff and angst, technically character death, Reader is a freak tbh

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : The angst inside me yearns to be released. I must write creepy little guy. (Again, no fucking clue who this is as I write)

Male reader for personal reasons?

Male reader for personal reasons.

(P.S. women can read this, but I see a single weird/fetishizing comment? Your ass is getting fucking blocked. Thank you!~ <3)

He shivered as he felt your sharpened canines sink into his neck.

It wasn’t uncommon, on nights like this, for you to slink under the cover of darkness into his room and wrap your far to big and much to long body around him multiple times over, completely covering him in you.

You were too big for his bed, often he could hear it creak underneath what you could fit onto its poor frame, the rest of your body shoved into his floor, masses of hands and tails and tongues and otherwise slithering across the wood silently.

He couldn’t bare too remember the day you became this.

The day you ceased to live.

All he really wanted to recall was that one day you were alive and well, as human as can be, then the next you were… this.

Fundamentally obsessed with everything that had to do with him, a mixture of his and your bond.

There was a reason he had no fear when he found the King if Curses had made his home inside of him.

Because you were here.

Thinking now with what knowledge he had, it would be a lie to ever call you “human”.

You were old, older than most old curses he would inevitably be forced to fight, each being hundreds if not thousands of years old.

But you…

He shivered, and you curled tighter around him, many voices whispering to him - male, female, old and young, just born and on the verge of death - that he was okay, that you would protect him from… the thing inside him.

The pinkette resigned to your grip, feeling a pair of hands wrap around his waist, the teeth that you had planted in him sinking deeper, rumbling purr-like noises emitting from your throat.

You made sure he didn’t feel it.

The pain.

Your nails scratching into skin, teeth puncturing the surface.

You “loved” him far too much.

Tails lightly thumped against your skin and his walls in a rhythm. A couple mouths, some pressed to his skin and some… away from his form panted, tongues lolling out and hot puffs of breath filling the room.

You had been such a sweet boy.

Itadori had found you one day while on an outing with his parents. You had been on a playground by yourself, wearing the classic monster truck tee-shirt and blue kids cargo shorts. Your velcro also monster truck theme shoes flew through the air as you kicked to gain momentum on the swing-set you currently occupied.

Your hair was wild and untamed as you soared through the air, your squeals and high-pitched laughter filling the air. Your carefree mood quickly inspired the boy as he turned to his parents, intent on making them say yes to him going to play with you. But, before he could even get a word out, the adults nodded at him, releasing their holds on his hands, and allowed him to race off onto the wood chip covered ground of the bright and colorful children’s playground.

“Hello!! I’m Itadori Yuji!! What’s your name?” He shouted. You glanced at him, swinging even higher, before leaping off the swing from its highest point.

He watched, slack jawed in awe as you literally flew through the air, landing perfectly on your feet. You had landed with your back to him, dramatically looking over your shoulder to stare at him. You then placed a hand on your waist and flicked your hair over your shoulder and out of your face, so he could clearly see your vibrant (e/c) eyes.

You pursed your lips into a pout with a small glare before braking out into a wide grin, displaying your inhumanly sharp teeth.

“I’m (y/n)! And you better remember it!” Fully facing him you jabbed a finger in your direction before pushing it into his chest, causing him to stumble from the sheer force behind the tap.

“And I’m your new little brother, got it? From now on I’m stickin’ by your side no matter what!” Your grin grew with every word before you snatched his wrist in your hands - your nails were sharp. They nearly pierced his skin - and dragged him onto the play set, climbing with him behind you, laughing when you reached the top first.

And that was how your weird relationship began.

You were there for him, every day. As his mother grew odder and odder and his father grew a bit more distant with each passing moment, you were a constant. Your childish grin and weird ideas - you once convinced him to launch you as hard as he could. You flew three blocks and crashed through some rando’s wall - they helped him get through life, especially when he was dumped in the care of his grandfather.

You stayed with him at that point, your parents never being mentioned once by you or anyone, nor had any missing kids reports that matched your description ever come out.

You really were like a little brother.

At least, you were.

He had no control over the situation, and it took years of comforting from his grandfather - who was getting sicker and sicker by the day - and therapy to finally come to terms with it.

Your death.

It was totally on accident, you had convinced him to go on another adventure, taking him to an abandoned building while singing, walking atop the chainlink fences as he walked beside them.

You had giggled when flashing him that signature grin, saying “I’ll go scope it out, you stay here!” or something to that effect.

And you ran inside.

He should’ve ran in after, should’ve told you he felt uncomfortable with how the building looked, should’ve said something.

But he didn’t.

And he was forced to hear your screams and cries die out beneath the rubble of the freshly fallen building.

He desperately pulled at debris, calling out to you to “Just hold on!” as he pulled large chunks of concrete from the pile and threw them away.

How he held your crushed and crumpled body in his arms, shocked to silence and paralysis.

Tears silently slid down his cheeks, soaking into the concrete. Rain began to fall, drenching the both of you.

He cradled your body, sobbing into the bloody mess that once was you.

What part of him mind that wasn’t sobbing was desperately trying to keep what little he had for lunch down. Bone fragments were everywhere, blood had splattered all across… well everything!

He could see a couple teeth and nails here and there and if he looked hard enough, he would’ve seen one of your eyes trapped between some small wall chunks.

The building had quite literally fallen with no warning, and very rapidly as well. The way it had fallen basically landed so much pressure over your body that you had actually fucking exploded.

And so, Itadori cried.

Ignoring the world around him he sobbed and sobbed, paying no mind to how your should-have-been-dead body twitched slightly in his harsh embrace. How you made noises no dead-man should, how the shadows climbed the shattered walls around him, eyes teeth and hands clawing, reaching out to him.

“Ɏ…Ʉ…J…ł…”

His breath stuttered as he hiccuped, refusing to look up.

“Ᏸ…Ꭵ…Ꮆ…Ᏸ…Ꮢ…Ꭷ…Ꮦ…Ꮒ…Ꮛ…Ꮢ…”

His grip tightened, if at all possible. He shoved his face into your neck, iron filling his nose and blood smearing his cheek.

“҉L҉…҉o҉…҉o҉…҉k҉…҉a҉…҉t҉…҉m҉…҉e҉…҉”҉

He shook his head.

”…Ǝ…M…T…A…⋊…O…O…⅃“

He sobbed louder.

“Ꮭ..Ꭷ…Ꭷ…Ꮶ…ₐ…ₜ…𝓶…𝔼…𝙱…𝙸…𝙶…B…Я…Ө…Ƭ…Ή…Σ…Я…

I̵̹̦̓Ṱ̷̒́͂̀̓̍͌̑A̵͎̦̻̰̯͇̗͙̿̄̑̈́͊̓̽D̴̙͉̺́͊͒̎̄̎̈́̉̚̕ͅO̶̟̻̬̥͑̿̊̈̎̍̚͝͝R̷̡̦̮͕̥̰̈́̅Ĩ̶̪͍͙̲͇ ̶̢̟̤̩̪̥̄Y̵̧͉̝̓̏̒͑̋̊̊͠U̴̟͉͔͙̟̮̤̗̩̓̿J̵̧̛͖̠͔̺̙̬̩̎I̴̢̡̫̰̥̮̺̥̱͌̀!̵̢̓͂̇!̸̤̱͓̿̔!̴̬̯̙̱̆̃̋̚!̶̰̱̮̹̳̥̬̀̄̀̿ͅ!̸̡̤̟́̔͘͝!̵̱̱͑̐̓̚”̵̧͚̩̝͚͍̭͛̓̀́”

He wailed as he felt the millions of hands wrap around him and your “human” corpse. It wailed with him - you wailed with him.

Thousands of sounds, from a howling dog to a screaming bird echoed as you sobbed with the boy, over your own death.

…He should’ve seen how his mother shook when you were around. Like something was deathly wrong. Her skin would pale - more than it already was - and her eyes would widen slightly. She was good at hiding her fear.

Fear of you.

He should’ve also noticed how whenever you were in a room with him or his family and others were there, you’d play the “don’t see me” game. It was simple in practice, pretend you weren’t there.

Itadori struggled, obviously, but it was brushed off by other adults as him having an “imaginary friend”.

Like they couldn’t see you.

How you’d wonder around those people and they simply didn’t notice your existence, your presence concealed from everyone besides his family.

Besides him.

How wherever you went, chaos and despair were sure to follow, with your long animalistic nails dragging lightly on someone’s skin, their name later showing up in the obituary. How you’d mutter something in someone’s ear and they would later be found guilty for the serial murders of their entire family. A glance in their direction and a new extreme suicide method would be discovered, following their death.

You were an enigma, one he wouldn’t bother solving through his rose tinted glasses.

But now, with the howling sounds of… you(??) behind him, he didn’t know.

Maybe it would be better to solve you, maybe it would’ve been better to get to know you on a more than superficial level.

Maybe he should’ve looked between the cracks of your carefully constructed caricature and see what was beneath the surface.

The monster beneath the surface.

‘He was damn good at hiding it.’ He mused, coming back to your warmth wrapped around his own, the… whimpers - he had no clue the man could make those noises… he wouldn’t mind hearing them more often - of Sukuna.

He wondered how long he had, subconsciously, known of the Jujitsu world after being introduced to you.

How often he saw small time curses and brushed them off as tricks of the light.

How often people on the streets assumed he was insane as a child when he spoke to air, having a full conversation.

“̷B̷…̷i̷…̷g̷…̷B̷…̷r̷…̷o̷…̷t̷…̷h̷…̷e̷…̷r̷.̷.̷?̷”̷

You didn’t speak much, but when you did your voice was commanding.

Even if the most prominent voice in the millions of overlays was that same voice that of the child who introduced himself as (y/n) all those years ago.

He turned to you, eyes meeting yours with hundreds of pupils dotting the whites of your scleras. Sharp teeth finally dislodged themselves from his neck, a smaller tongue coming forth and licking the wound.

“Yeah, little guy?” He responded. He tried so hard to not see you as wrong. As his little brother.

It was hard but he was pulling through, especially when you had near the same personality as back then, if not a bit more protective.

“ᒪ…ᓍ…ᐺ…ᘿ…ᖻ…ᓍ…ᑘ…”

Smiles placed themselves across your form, it reminded him of why you snuck in at night.

You didn’t want to get him in trouble.

You didn’t think of yourself and how you could get killed - he didn’t doubt his teachers, but he knew for a fact the couldn’t kill you, no way - and how sad he would be after.

You were always like that, putting his likes before your own, much to his chagrin. It was funny that way, with how you insisted to do everything for him, despite claiming him as your “older brother”.

“I… I love you too, (y/n).” Your purrs rumbled out again, loving whenever he used your name.

A part of him was grateful that you didn’t introduce him to the Jujitsu world in his youth. You hadn’t dragged him in head first, kicking and screaming.

Hell, as far as he was concerned, you never even meant for him to fall down this slippery slope but he did, and he was happy that you stuck around.

He was even more happy that you could calm - terrify would’ve been the right word - the storm that raged inside his head.

That beast.

That damned laughter echoed around his skull, constantly reminding him of failures.

Of his failure to Junpei.

As though you could feel the sudden sadness, you whined, shoving the appendage most like a head in the junction on his neck. He giggled at the feeling of a tongue running across his skin, rubbing a hand on your head(?).

“Hey now, settle down.”

A noise came from you, somewhere between a quiet bark and a yip, as you settled down, continuing to nuzzle into him.

He loved these nights.

Unfortunately, he no longer had them.

With the recent war - is this a war? He hadn’t even gotten a drivers license or gotten his first job how could he be part of a war? - he had no time for sleep.

It was constant moving, never spending more than one night in one place. His life consisted now of three main things:

Eat. Fight. Sleep (if you can).

Over and over, he never slept enough to give you a chance to slip into his grasp and share the moonlit nights chuckling at you and his little jokes.

And with that result, he could hear The King’s voice grow louder in his head. Taunting and laughing at him for every misstep and mistake.

For every death.

He was on the verge of giving up, of finally relinquishing control and sitting the recesses of his mind, ignoring the world till he was killed.

Then he met his older brother. And learned of his other brothers.

Searing pain ran through his mind at the revelation, a few images of you flickering through his brain as a harsh reminder.

And today was no better than the rest.

All. Fucking. Day. He was forced to fight curse after curse after curse with no rest. He could feel the dried blood on his skin and the screaming and aching pain of his joints and muscles, begging him for at least one full night of sleep.

He couldn’t.

Not with HIM mocking him at every waking moment.

He was loosing his grip on reality, his steps less prominent and his punches not hitting as strong as usual.

“Yuji!”

He could barely pay attention to the man who called him. His older brother..? Right, yeah. He’s fighting right now… Why is he fighting?

At that moment a punch landed to his gut, launching him back a few feet, he kneeled to the ground, clutching his stomach.

A groan left his lips as his eyes grew weary, struggling to stay open. A kick hit that same place as the punch, causing him to flip and roll over, crying out in pain.

Tears began to slip from his eyes. He knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer, but sleeping would mean that HE would have a chance to.. a chance to…

The boy curled in on himself, arms around legs and legs pressed to his chest as he lay on his side in the middle of the road. Whimpers and tears escaped him as he laid there in fetal position, the cracked concrete beneath him growing wet with each passing second.

He felt weak.

He felt worthless.

Finally his body began to rapidly shake with how hard the sobs that tore their way through his throat were. He wailed into the air, hands gripping at his clothes. Everything stopped as he cried, the curses onslaught slowing as the half-curse looked back at his broken brother.

But as he screamed and sobbed, the air changed.

Static filled the sky as the world grew eerily quiet around them. The air stilled and something dark began to form behind the boy.

“̴Y̴…̴o̴…̴u̴…̴v̴…̴e̴…̴h̴…̴u̴…̴r̴…̴t̴…̴Y̴…̴u̴…̴j̴…̴i̴…̴e̴…̴n̴…̴o̴…̴u̴…̴g̴…̴h̴…̴”̴

Your voice rung out as clear as a bell, effectively silencing any attempts to speak out.

You were huge - easily towering over most buildings surrounding them, which stood at around 430 ft - looking like a mass of wriggling arms and mouths, tongues whipping wildly in the air. Eyes crowded around area of your body, looking in multiple directions but focusing on the now whimpering curse that had dared punch and kick Yuji. You were worm like, noted the half-curse, something like a centipede or millipede, arms and legs supporting your weight and shuffling your body forward.

But then you leaned down.

At the front of your body was an impossibly large mouth with sharpened teeth. Some of which protruded from parts of your lips and cheeks. Your maw opened and a long tongue like appendage slipped out, slithering in the air like a snake. The end opened and a much smaller form poked out, this smaller human-esk form being barely four ft in height.

A boy with dull (e/c) stared back. Long (h/c) hair flowed down his back, tied with a (f/c) ribbon. Only his waist up was exposed, but what they could see was covered by a (f/c) kimono with a gorgeous sash.

The small figure-head of a boy looked like he had jumped straight out of ancient Japan, completed with a scowl.

He opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when they saw how hollow the boy was. No teeth, no tongue. His mouth was pitch black.

[̲̅“][̲̅H][̲̅…][̲̅o][̲̅…][̲̅w][̲̅…][̲̅d][̲̅…][̲̅a][̲̅…][̲̅r][̲̅…][̲̅e][̲̅…][̲̅y][̲̅…][̲̅o][̲̅…][̲̅u][̲̅…][̲̅”]

Multiple of your mouths licked their chops as you stared down the curses, paying no mind to the half-curse.

A chuckle.

Hands flew off you from every angle, gripping the flesh of the now crying curses, ripping and tearing away at their bodies. Chunks of curse were thrown into open and waiting jaws, the crunch of deformed bones echoed.

It was only a moment more until the black haired man noticed the lack of sobbing.

It seemed the same for you because immediately after his thought, your body snapped up to glare at the top of a building. Your body climbed back up to what he realized wasn’t even your full height to stare down at the building.

To glare down the tattooed pinkette.

Animalistic growls of various kinds left your many throats as you stared down with such vibrant hatred that it made lesser curses nearby actually killed themselves in fear.

“k…i…ຖ…ງ…໐…f…¢…น…r…Ş…ē…Ş…”

Unlike his usual prideful expressions and loud boasting, the man was silent, a grimace on his face instead.

“You…” He growled.

It wouldn’t take a genius to recognize that the two of you had history. Those glares you gave each other were more than just ‘seeing the enemy for the first time glares’. Those were glares with passion.

Pure and unbridled hatred.

The air around the area of you two became so damn oppressive that it felt as though the sky itself was falling down on all those below you. The half curse fell to his knees and griped his head in pain.

He noted others doing the same. Whether it be a curse or one of the sorcerers who came when they felt the shift on the battlefield or saw your… summoning?

It didn’t seem to matter as one by one, everyone and thing fell to their knees.

The biggest issue was the fact that not even The King’s aura had every cause something like this. Sure he was suffocating but never to this extent.

That only left…

You.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍫🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Back when man first made its claim across land, showing its might against enemies;

The first true fear was born.

Dark and grim in shape, it was built off the deepest and darkest desires and nightmares of sentience.

The one thing feeding its dark heart?

The primal fear of being prey.

Of being hunted.

It was the predator to humanity, the thing destined to wipe it out and what of which every other fear would soon be born of.

It was that which lurched in the shadows, it was that which watched from the deep, it was that which breathed down their necks.

Eyes to stalk your every move.

Ears to hear your every step.

Noses to smell your scent from miles off.

Legs to rush you before you could run.

Hands to grip you so you’d never escape.

And mouths to swallow you whole.

…

It fed on people’s worst fantasies.

Changing its shape to fit in, to sneak under the now watchful fearful gaze of humanity.

Taking on a man or woman’s face. Or girl or boy.

…

It fed on the worst of the worst. Tasting their sinful flesh as they committed atrocities to their own kind.

Kindled fires that turned to wars and fed on those cries.

… Till it found a boy.

A boy who gazed at it with no fear. A burning rage in his eyes.

One that could only be snuffed with bloodshed.

It took him under its wing, training him, teaching him. Hiding him from those whom wanted him dead.

But he grew arrogant.

He had grown, two faces and two arms with an added mouth then adorned his form.

He truly thought he could over take it.

Instead, he died; Or rather, he was sealed.

It felt nothing when this happened. Finding the situation to be telling.

And so, it continued. Feasting on the fears and darkest desires of humanity while watching the amass of beings like it grow.

Then, it took on the form of a child, dressed in the common wear of the century. The world was advancing, shiny metals making up the village’s - no, cities as they were now called, with the human populace unimaginably rich in numbers and cultures.

It met a boy, whom uncannily looked like the one it had taken in years ago, as did the boys father.

It vaguely remembered a concubine the other had, but never the less, it smiled.

T’was a new dawn, a new day, and a new life.

And that “boy”?

Well, he was feeling quite good~

…

“To a new era!~ Raise your glasses and cheer, fellows of the dark!~”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Lmao I’m tired ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujitsu kaisen x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #Gn reader #gn y/n #I’s sleepy #goodnight 💤

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justanamesstuff · 2 years ago

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Loving you is...

Matty feels emotional before a show. He lets his gf know how much she means to him.

A/N: Wasn't planning to post, but here we are. Hope you like it guys ♥ Word count: 0.6 k

Warning: fluff, pre-show anxiety, typos.

“You are so unaware of how beautiful you in fact are.” Matty expressed, after taking a drag from his cigarette.

She looked at him, taking a peek around the empty back side of the arena. Matty insisted her to tag along with him. He was letting his nerves got the best of him, she wanted to ease it somehow. The girl decided that maybe the best way was to keep him company.

“Next album's name?” She teased him.

Jokes were a way to comfort each other. Since they were friends until after, Matty confessed his feelings for her and asked to be his boyfriend. They had a long list of inside jokes. She smiled, staring at his uneasy silhouette.

“Ha-ha…no,” Matty moved his tie from side to side, not happy with the position of it. “The new album…” He continued saying. “Your album-“

“Matt-“ Matty’s girlfriend protested.

They had the conversation about him writing about her multiple times along the years. She wasn’t all too comfortable with the idea. It wasn’t like she felt ungrateful, on the contrary. Even though, thinking about strangers and not so strangers know about the love she was happy to feel and live without the rest of the world knowing, made her mind spiral.

“It’s going to be more conceptual,” Matty kept going, because he was adamant to write an entire album about her, about the love of his life. “Because you like those more. The name it’s going to be shorter probably…still thinking about it.” He admitted to her, as well as he tried -expecting her not to notice- to bring her onboard.

“You are going to do it, huh?” She smiled wide at him. It was so hard to be mad at him for longer than five minutes.

“‘Course baby…who else I’m going to write about if it’s not you?”

“Don’t know…politics?” She shrugged her shoulders, folding her arms in front of her body.

“I can add a pinch of that, but no,…it’s going to be about-” Matty brought her into a hug. “Founding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And not in a vague, empty, stereotyped way…” He went into a spiral of words, explaining his idea. “Really, it’s going to be about founding you.” Matty stated, leaving a sweet kiss on her nose. “You're not the other half missing, as I’m not that for you either. It’s this thing I feel-” He patted his chest, on the place his heart was. “When I’m with you…about feeling, in a way, complete. Also, you make me better, I want to be better when I’m with you…be better for you-“

“There’s no one better for me than you, Matty.” She spoke lower, so only he can hear, even when they were alone.

“I know…I know now! Sharing this life with you lights up everything…and I don’t want to say that every past pain, ended relationship, was worth it because I would found you at the end, but it was- It is.” Matty let his girlfriend know. “I’m sorry, I’m getting emotional, and ramble like a fuckin’ idiot.” Matty apologized, running his hand through his curls.

“Don’t be sorry…come here…” She managed to pull him in a tight hug without spilling the tears polling in her eyes.

Matty pulled slowly back, to rest his forehead on hers.

“I love you so much…and words aren’t enough. I’ve never imaged I can feel this deep about someone. I do now.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Please don’t leave me, ever.” He pleaded, wearing his feeling on the sleeve of his shirt.

“I won’t.” His girlfriend promised.

“Spend eternity with me?”

She let a cute laugh out. “Sure, sounds like a nice plan!”

#maty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy blurb #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy the1975

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2baddiesfanfics · 3 months ago

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Of Booze and Business

Pairing: Ningguang x Beidou

Tags: Dawn Winery (Genshin Impact), Mondstadt (Genshin Impact), Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Goth Grand Hotel (Genshin Impact)

Summary:

Ningguang and Beidou have traveled to Mondstadt to solidify Liyue’s growing relationship with Dawn Winery. The Tianquan begs the captain to be on her best behavior, and she agrees – for the most part. In the end, both women get what they want.

Read on Ao3

“Geez, Ning! What the hell did you bring with you? We’re here for a week, not a year!” Beidou grunted as she lugged the Tianquan’s multiple bags of luggage through the entrance of the Goth Grand Hotel. The two had traveled to Mondstadt for a meeting at Dawn Winery, as Ningguang had been interested in fostering more solid trade relations in the region.

Wanting to ensure she was adequately protected (not to mention take a rare chance to be alone away from prying eyes), Captain Beidou had taken time off from her usual duties to accompany her. It definitely wasn’t because of the alcohol that would be flowing freely. No sir. Not at all.

Ningguang checked them in and they walked to their reserved room.

“Oh, stop being such a child, Beidou. If we’re going to impress the good people of Dawn Winery, we’re going to have to look the part,” she explained.

“And that couldn’t be achieved with a handful of outfits? You had to bring your entire damn wardrobe?” Beidou sneered back.

“Oh, trust me. I don’t think you’ll be complaining when you see what I brought to wear underneath,” she chuckled. Beidou immediately picked up the pace.

After they had gotten settled, Ningguang excused herself for a bath. Beidou took the opportunity to rest and explore their room. The owner, knowing what esteemed guests would be residing here, had left a bottle of Mondstadt’s finest Dandelion Wine. She turned the bottle over in her hands and read that the beverage was, in fact, from Dawn Winery.

Well…it would only make sense for me to sample some before we head over tomorrow. At least I’ll be able to contribute something to the conversation.

She flicked the cork open, and, noticing a lack of glassware, took a swig directly from the source.

“BEIDOU!” Unbeknownst to her, Ningguang had emerged from the bath wrapped in nothing but an expensive-looking towel. “Can you go ten minutes without drinking? I was hoping we could share.”

Trying not to break into a coughing fit from the shock, Beidou quickly set the bottle down.

“Look, I’m sorry! I was just trying to make sure I would be able to speak from experience when we tour the facilities tomorrow.”

“I appreciate your efforts, Beidou, but I’m begging you. Please, please be on your best behavior. This could be huge for Liyue, and the last thing I need is to find you locked in a drinking competition with one of the distillers.”

Beidou rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid, Ning. I know what this means to Liyue. To you. I promise to exercise some self-control, ok?”

Feeling bad for jumping down her throat, Ningguang decided she’d make up for it. They’d had a long, hard day of travel, and she was sure they could both use some stress relief.

“Mmmm…that’s a good girl,” she purred.

Immediately Beidou’s gaze snapped up. Ningguang walked towards her, an extra swing visible in her hips. “You’ve been such a brave travel companion,” she said as she wrapped her arms around her neck. “I was so afraid when we ran into those treasure hoarders on the road, but watching you make quick work of them got me so…” she brought her lips close to her ear, “…wet.”

Beidou ripped the towel off her and threw her over her shoulder. Having not received much praise given her upbringing as a homeless orphan, it was the one weakness she had…especially when it came from the Tianquan.

Tossing her on the bed, she kissed Ningguang hard. Between their lips clashing, Ningguang peppered her with compliments she knew would drive her crazy.

“Archons, Beidou, you’re so strong. You’re incredible. Nobody can fuck me like you can,” she moaned. If she kept going, Beidou was sure she’d come without her even touching her. “Take your clothes off for me…I want to show you how much I appreciate you accompanying me on this trip.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. Beidou quickly stripped out of what she was wearing and moved back on top of her. Ningguang slid her hands down her abs and felt her shutter.

Oh, this is going to be too easy.

“I love watching you take my fingers. Will you be a good girl and moan extra loud for me tonight? We are in Mondstadt, after all. No need to play it safe.”

Beidou whimpered a shaky “yes,” and Ningguang slid into her with ease.

“Ughhhh fuck, Ning!”

“That’s right, dear, let me hear how good I make you feel,” she commanded as she thrust inside of her. Beidou rocked her hips to increase the friction against her clit.

“So…close…” she grunted. Ningguang knew she only needed one more word of praise to send her over the edge.

“You’re so beautiful when you come with my name on your lips,” she said.

“Ahhhhhhh Ningguanggggg!” She screamed as she collapsed, still bucking her hips against her hand. The Tianquan held her close, stroking her hair comfortingly while whispering how good she did.

“Alright, love, let’s get some rest for tomorrow. I really do appreciate you coming along,” Ningguang said as she kissed the crown of her head. Beidou let out a satiated yawn in response.

“You kidding? Best vacation ever and it only just started,” she hummed sleepily.

The next day was a whirlwind. The two met with the winery’s owner, Diluc, who Ningguang found to be amicable enough, albeit a tad grumpy for her tastes. But he clearly knew what he was doing. Not a fan of alcohol himself, she knew she could count on him to keep a cool head when it came to business relations.

Toward the end of the tour, he even humored Beidou and let her drink as much as she wanted at no cost. “Chalk it up to an investment in quality control,” he had wittily remarked. As Beidou sampled the different varieties while chatting with the locals, Ningguang and Diluc got down to negotiations. The two respected each other’s eye for investment and spoke a common language: mora.

As the ink of their signatures dried on the contract, Ningguang thanked him for his generosity and assured him he’d be receiving some Liyuean delicacies as a gesture of her deep appreciation.

She walked downstairs to pick up Beidou and could hear her boisterous voice asking questions about the city. Rounding the corner, thankfully all seemed well. No broken bottles, injuries, or embarrassment. As a matter of fact, the patrons seemed to be having the time of their lives.

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re telling me you guys have a - hic! - dragon? Ya shee, back in Liyue I’m known for-“

“Oh, Beidou? Our business is concluded here. Walk me home?”

“Awwww, man! Sho shoon? We were just - hic! - gettin’ shtarted!

Ningguang only had to give her a look and she knew she wasn’t playing around.

“I mean…yes, Lady Tianquan, ma’am! Right away! See ya ‘round, gents!“ she said with a salute as she rushed to Ningguang’s side. “Ning, we gotta come back here! Look what they gave me!” Beidou waved around yet another bottle of premium Dandelion Wine.

When they arrived back at their room, Ningguang heaved a sigh of relief.

“Who would have thought your appetite for alcohol would come in handy? They loved you! Master Diluc said he hasn’t seen his employees that happy in he doesn’t know how long.”

Beidou’s face was beet red. She had way too much to drink. Normally Ningguang would be livid, but in this case, she’d actually helped solidify the friendship between the people of the two nations.

“Psssssh, ‘course they did, babyyyy! But not as much as I love youuuuu…” Her deep voice and slurred words hinted she was in the mood for something more than booze.

“Ah, that’s right…I need to repay you for last night, huh?” Beidou said before pulling the cork out of the new bottle with her teeth. Ningguang’s heart leaped into her throat. Something she didn’t mind about an inebriated Beidou was she wasn’t…delicate with her. With no inhibitions, it didn’t matter that she was Ningguang, Tianquan of Liyue. She might as well have been someone the captain picked up on the docks.

Having to put up a front of being strong any time someone might be watching, witnessing “yes men” bend to her every whim if it meant more mora in their pockets…it grew tiresome. Sometimes all Ningguang wanted was to be treated like she wasn’t made of glass.

Beidou took a long swig and slammed the bottle on the table. Towering over Ningguang, she firmly gripped her by the chin.

“You really will do anything for business, huh, you little slut?” This was all part of the act, of course. If it were anyone else talking to her like this, she’d send a piece of obsidian so far up their ass they would rue the day they ever did so.

“I saw the way you sucked up to that - what’s his name? - ah, yea, Diluc,” her face was so close to Ningguang’s she could smell the sweet scent of the alcohol on her breath. “All-powerful Ningguang, scary enough to face off against an archon if she wanted to, fake-laughing at some guy’s terrible attempt at jokes. Fuckin’ pathetic. I wonder what he’d think of you if he knew what I’m about to do to you…”

Ningguang’s entire body tingled. There was something intensely arousing about letting someone else take the reins for a change. This wasn’t the first time a “business trip” had ended like this. They had a safe word in place. She was ready.

Beidou grabbed her by the back of her neck and walked her over to the bed. With a forceful shove, she pushed her down. “You’re gonna do as I tell you or I’ll just finish my drink and go to bed. Got it?” Ningguang nodded silently.

“Sorry, that’s not an answer. Try again.”

“Yes, captain.”

“Oh, so you do know your place, wench. Good. That’ll make things much smoother. Now get rid of that dress for me. And do it slowly. I’d like to savor the moment.”

Ningguang grabbed at the slit of her dress, the fabric bunching between her fingers as she leisurely hiked it up, bearing her skin and the pricey lingerie she had hinted about at the beginning of the trip.

Beidou let out a smug laugh. “Can you get any lower? Don’t tell me you were gonna resort to seduction if your natural charm didn’t win you the contract?”

“Of course not, captain. I figured the night would end with you showing me who’s really in charge here.” She continued to lift the rest of the garment up and off her body.

“Damn straight. Clearly, you didn’t forget your place. Now lay back. Where did I put the rest of that booze…” She walked back to where she had put the bottle, snatched it, and walked back to her.

“It appears we don’t have any mugs, soooo…” She turned it upside down and let the liquid run over Ningguang’s body. “Guess I’ll have to drink it off you, then.” Beidou pounced on her, licking the parts of her body she knew were most sensitive. The curve of her neck, the inside of her cleavage, the spot just above the hem of her panties.

Ningguang couldn’t hold back, and the knowledge that she didn’t need to because they weren’t in Liyue made her even more bold. The noises she made only drove Beidou to tease her even more mercilessly.

“Listen to yourself. Is it really that easy to make you moan like a cheap whore? Bet I can make you go even louder though,” she challenged. Taking the thin scrap of fabric that still covered her lower half in her fist, Beidou ripped it off her in one swift yank.

“Ughhhhh…fuck, Beidou!

“Knew you’d like that.” She laid down beside her, bringing her mouth closer to her ear. Her hand was now just positioned at her entrance.

“You better be so fuckin’ loud someone from the inn comes up here and tells us to shut up. You got that?” She asked.

“Yes, captain! Whatever you say.”

“Good. Shoulda known you’d already be this wet,” she said, sliding her middle finger knuckle deep. Ningguang jolted her hips.

“But a good slut like you can take at least one more.” Beidou inserted another and began to pump slowly.

“Beidouuuuu…”

Beidou stopped. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that. What did you call me?”

Between heavy breaths, she corrected herself. “Captain Beidou…please, fuck me harder…”

“See? All you had to do was ask. It’s not that hard,” she teased as she sped back up.

“Mmmmmm…captain…your fingers…feel so good…”

“I’m sure they do. Good enough to make you come?”

“Ohhhhh archons…yes…almost…there…”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Wake up the neighbors. I don’t care,” she said as she rubbed her clit with the heel of her hand.

“FUCKKKKK CAPTAIN!!!” Ningguang screamed as she spasmed around her. Once the post-orgasm haze faded, she turned to face Beidou. “Mmm, that was incredible, baby. Baby?”

Beidou let out an incoherent mumble, her eyes closed. Ningguang rolled her eyes.

That’s the last time I take her to a country whose main export is wine.

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cellythefloshie · 2 years ago

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;; Something Borrowed - Director's Cut Chapter Three of Just Me & You for @wyattjohnston

Table of Contents Chapter Two «« 🤍 »» Chapter Four

Summary: The bridal party hosts their combined bachelor and bachelorette party at the cabin. Kinks & TW: drinking/intoxication, infidelity, dry-humping, insecurity, teasing/banter, riding, multiple positions, unprotected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) Note: I did not beta-read/edit the smut. I got lazy. Word Count: 9,000+

The combination of Redbull and vodka did two things to Charlotte. 1. It hit her hard in her chest like a defibrillator shocking her system with everything she needed to get through what would be a long night. 2. It gave her all too many flashbacks to the gut-wrenching hangovers she had in college. It was almost enough to leave her gagging as she placed the empty glass down on the dining table, only to reach for another shot as it was offered to her. Each sip sent her body tingling, her mind faltering into a drunkness she hadn’t let herself feel in years - but she couldn’t say no. Not to Daphne. Not during the night that was to celebrate her as the bride.

Festivities had begun at sundown with Daphne gathering her bridal party to the room that had become their studio. Daphne presented them all with a dress, a little black dress that was far from practical for a night at the cabin but it contrasted her white slip dress perfectly and they were there to only serve one purpose: Something coordinated for them all to wear to take pictures that Daphne could post on her Instagram.

It was with her bridal party two drinks deep that Daphe led them out onto the back porch so the photoshoot session could begin. The photographer was Dillon with nothing more than Daphne’s phone. The bridal party flocked together beneath hanging fairy lights, smiles coming to their faces with ease and their bright personalities shining with every flash of the camera - but Charlotte struggled. There was a time she wouldn’t have shied away from the attention, when she would have been right beside Daphne, her arms wrapped around her as they were embraced by every flash that would immortalize their night together. Instead, she lingered at the edge of the frame, leaning in just enough to be seen as she stood alongside Debrusk’s girl.

Charlotte felt lost among them, their charisma consuming and every one of them photogenic which only had her receding further and further into the background of it all. It didn’t go unnoticed, not by Dillon and not by Daphne who mid-photo reached out for Charlotte and tugged her front and center. Charlotte protested with a quick “no, no,” but was answered with nothing but a laugh and her friend’s arms wrapping around her figure to keep her close. The flash of the camera did not seize until Daphne had approved each one and was sure she would have enough photographs for her social media following to be satisfied. It was as she was glancing them over, Daphne shot Charlotte a raised-brow look.

“Someone get her another drink, she doesn’t look like she’s having anywhere as much fun as the rest of us,” Daphne pointed her finger at Charlotte, her grin mischievous, “I think that means we need to do some more shots-”

“Daphne, I shouldn’t,” Charlotte protested, but someone had already grabbed a bottle and placed a shot glass in her hand.

“Just one, please, for me,” Daphne bat her eyes at her with a pout, and with a sigh, she knocked back the drink and raised the empty glass up into the air earning cheers from the girls that flocked her.

There were a series of flashes as Daphne took a few candid shots, her smile satisfied as she reached her hand out to show Charlotte the phone screen. “Much better, I’m going to post this one, okay?”

“Oh, Daph,” Charlotte sighed, “don’t tag me in that, okay?”

“Why not?” Daphne’s brows furrowed, her fingers already at work on her latest social media post.

Charlotte was slow to answer, her gaze falling on Wesley who was already watching with disapproving eyes from the railings of the porch. Her stomach twisted into knots in her gut, her eyes dropping to the floor as she knew he wouldn’t like how much she had already been drinking - and he didn’t like how short and how tight the dress was on her body. Charlotte could hear an echo of his words in the back of her mind, you look like a cheap whore, and they threatened to leave her smile wavering into a frown. Yet her smile persevered as she let her lies slip off her tongue, “My page, it’s mostly a business account now and I would hate my clients to get the wrong idea of how I like to spend my time.” When in truth, it was Wes who liked to paint a certain picture of who the two of them were - and getting drunk at a wedding party wasn’t his idea of picture-perfect.

“Ms. Professional is too good for us ladies,” Daphne teased her, earning a chuckle from the girls, “but yeah, I won’t tag you - but it won’t stop people from figuring out who you are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Charlotte’s brows furrowed as she took a step forward and watched as the photo dump when live. In a matter of seconds, Daphne’s phone was brought to life with notifications. Likes flooded in by the dozens and then came comments that she only saw mere fractions of before Daphne was slipping her phone away.

“You’re in a photo with all of us, there are lots of people out there who will want to know who you are and it won’t take them long before they figure it out,” Daphne explained casually as she grabbed a drink and nodded down across the dark lawn, “com’on let’s go down to the pit, Dillon’s going to start a fire-”

“All of us?” Charlotte followed a couple of strides behind the confusion all too clear on her features.

“The wives and girlfriends,” Daphne shrugged, her hand reaching out to take hold of Charlotte’s hand.

“You don’t think they’re going to-”

“Oh, they are and it’s going to be hilarious to see what they come up with,” Daphne was laughing, but to Charlotte, it wasn’t all that funny. One wrong comment from a stranger on the internet and the result would be Wesley spiralling, and Charlotte would be on the receiving end of its repercussions.

Her palms began to sweat, her temperature rising only to be countered by the cool summer air of the night that embraced her. It should have been enough to make her shiver, but the warmth of the alcohol consumed her and with every one of her steps she was closer to the amber glow of the fire. It was there the bridal party flocked, some sitting in old lawn recliners and chairs and others sitting on the ground, to enjoy the night before the big day.

Charlotte lingered at the edge of the firepit, feeling the grass between her toes and the heat of the flame radiating against her flesh - a heat that was rivalled as Wesley came up behind her, a single arm wrapping around her waist to draw her into his body so he could whisper into her ear. “Go inside, put some real clothes on.”

His words sent a chill down her spine, her heart skipping a beat in her chest as she glanced back at him. Wesley’s eyes were the darkest shade of brown, but she had never seen a stare so cold. It left her speechless, her mouth agape as her eyes moved over the angles of his face, waiting for a punch line of a joke that would never come. If there was one thing Wesley always was, it was serious.

At any other time, Charlotte would have retreated back into the house and changed into something he would approve of. Something that would hide the curves of her body and show off less skin - a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt maybe. That would be much more appropriate for a bonfire, but instead, Charlotte smoothed her hands over the silken fabric and shot a smile over to Daphne who was sitting cuddled in close to Dillon. Charlotte wasn’t going to let Wesley take away from how Daphne wanted to celebrate their night - and in her dress, Charlotte’s confidence was thriving.

Placing a hand on his chest, Charlotte guided Weseley back until his knees were pressed back against the angle of one of the lawn chairs. He was looking down at her with dark, disapproving eyes, but she was meeting them with a challenge of her own. Smiling, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. To anyone else, they might have thought she was flirting with him, but her words were almost harsh against the shell of his ear, “Sit down. Have a beer. And, I beg you, try to pretend you’re happy to be here. For me.”

When she pulled back, her head was cocked and the reflection of the dancing flame in her eyes made her look all the more playful as she bit at her bottom lip. She stood there for a moment, waiting for him to fight her - but she knew he would concede. Wesley wouldn’t fight her here, not in front of everyone. He wouldn’t make himself a spectacle. No, he would wait until he had her in the privacy of the bedroom to tell her just how out of line she was. Until then, Charlotte intended to enjoy herself.

She stepped away from Wesley just long enough to grab two beers from the cooler and offered him one as he sat. He took it in his fist, the cold condensation dripping over his fingers. Fingers that would quickly find the soft flesh of her thigh as Charlotte sat in his lap. His grip was tight, his large hand spreading over the surface as the dress threatened to expose more of her than he would have liked to those in their company. It was there his hand remained, stroking her thigh, kneading it possessively as she shifted on occasion to grab herself another beer or when her laughter consumed and shook her entire body. It left people staring. Staring at her body, her smile, her joy. It didn’t go unnoticed. Not by her, and not by Wesley who leaned in to growl in her ear; “Ease up, you’ve had your share to drink tonight. People are starting to stare.”

Perking up, Charlotte grinned her half-drank can of beer tight and casually cast a glance around the firepit. From what she could tell, no one was staring, though the alcohol was leaving her head feeling feather-light. Any face that might have been looking her way was distorted by the light of the dancing flame. She was convinced that Wesley had nothing to be worried about, they were in the company of friends, and yet his insecurities would persevere. Having her in his lap wasn’t enough to claim her as his, not when she had consumed alcohol - and even then she wasn’t convinced she had all that much to drink. Charlotte was convinced that if she stood, she would still be steady on her feet while Daphne and some of her other bridesmaids were well on their way to having to bury their faces in the toilet come morning.

“I’m fine, really,” Charlotte tried to assure him, a careful hand resting on his shoulder, but it only prompted his jaw to set.

She had thought it had been her defiance to anger him, but his gaze was beyond her. Wesley had seen something she hadn’t. Looking back over the group, her lips parted with an uneven breath. She didn’t need to search their faces to know that someone was staring along the angles of her legs - admiring the muscles of her calves, how the skirt of her dress left little to the imagination and how her feet had long lost their shoes and had darkened with dirt. It left her stomach in knots, her fingers near trembling as she dropped her eyes to the flame. Charlotte refused to confirm her suspicions. She refused to let herself know that it may be Adam’s eyes that lingered on her skin.

“I think it’s time for the two of us to turn in,” Wesley spoke abruptly, his voice firm and loud enough for everyone to hear.

“What?” Charlotte answered sharply, her feet dropping to the dirt as Wesley shifted beneath her and began to stand. She nearly stumbled out of her seat, her can of beer dropping to the dirt and seeping into the ground, as she looked back at Wesley with a pleading look. “The night’s only just started-”

“I’ve got some work to do before bed-”

And there it was. The fight and the attention he was so desperately trying to avoid. Every single set of eyes was on them now as they stood at odds with one another.

“We’re on vacation Wes, is that really necessary?”

Wesley stepped in, his hand wrapping around her left wrist, sending the bracelet she had worn every day since before they had met digging into her flesh. She didn’t fight him, she didn’t try to pull away and instead, she did nothing but stare up at him with her hardened gaze and her lips pressed firmly together as she waited for his answer.

“Is all of this really necessary?” His words were sharp, striking the crowd with his insult.

“What the fuck, Wes?” Charlotte tensed, her eyes wide as the group began to mutter around them, “Really?” she was at a loss for words, her lips parting in disbelief as he withdrew his hand to card his fingers through his hair at the realization of what he had just said.

“I’m sorry,” but the apology wasn’t to her, it was for the bride and groom. He had no apologies for Charlotte, “now Charlotte, let’s go to bed.”

Her brows furrowed in disgust. “No,” her head shook as she moved to take his seat that had been left unoccupied, “you go on off, do your work. I’ll be in when we’re done here.”

A silence hung in the air, the only sound the crackle of the logs and the sound of Wesley’s heavy footsteps as he moved across the lawn and back into the summer house. The silence remained long after the screen door had rattled shut in its frame. It consumed Charlotte as she sat curled up on the lawn chair, the absence of Wesley’s body leaving her cold as she stared off into the night and tried to ignore that the whispers around the fire were undoubtedly about the two of them. It left her stomach in knots and the threat of tears in her eyes as she had been overcome with regret. Maybe Wesley had been right, they shouldn’t have come-

It was a broken thought, the rustling of bodies drawing Charlotte’s eyes from the bright stars in the sky. Daphne was getting up from where she had been cuddled beside Dillon, a mischievous smile on her face that would have lit up the night if the fire had faded. She looked to Charlotte, her eyes saying a silent you’re welcome as she stole the spotlight with the simplest of tugs on her white slip dress. The fabric slipped to the ground, leaving her in nothing but her panties before she was running. Each long, elegant stride carried her away, her course marked by the silver moonbeam as it was cast over the water and along the dock. Her footsteps were hollow as she met the wood and then she was in the air, Daphne was far from elegant as she cannon-balled into the lake with a splash.

The splash shattered the tension, the life breathed back into the party with her one single wild action. There was a fit of laughter as the bridesmaids and groomsmen did the same, their clothes left in heaps in the grass before they abandoned the firepit and took to the lake. There was where the party would continue. Yet, Charlotte remained in her seat, a small thankful smile on her lips as the attention was taken from her.

Curling up in her seat, she rested her chin down on her knees with little care of what parts of her were exposed and enjoyed the near silence that came with only mere cheers in the distance. It was a calming sound, one that brought peace of mind and eased the erratic beating of her heart in her chest that came with the confrontation and embarrassment of having an audience. An audience that she was sure had fully left her until a shadow was cast on the ground before her, and a beer had come into her eye line to greet her.

“You spilled your drink,” Adam’s voice drew her gaze up, from his outstretched hand and to the half smirk on his face.

“Wasn’t my only party foul of the night,” Charlotte sighed, her hand reaching out for his drink, the can light in her hand as he had already drank half of it. She gripped the can until it crinkled in her hand and brought it up to her lips for a long satisfying sip that left her sighing as she lowered the aluminum from her lips.

“No one’s going to remember that come morning,” Adam offered, his voice as he dropped down onto one knee in front of her so they could see eye to eye without Charlotte having to crane her neck. It left her shifting awkwardly in her seat, her legs angling just right to hide whatever may be exposed by her short dress. “That dress doesn’t happen to have any pockets, does it, Charlie?”

“I ah-” Charlotte swallowed hard as she placed the can down on the arm of the chair and let her hand run along the seams of her dress slowly, “no, no pockets. Why?”

“Good,” Adam hummed, offering no explanation as he stood up and reached out to her with both hands.

“Adam-” Charlotte yelped out, his name barely audible as the touch of his hands encroached on the curves of her waist. He had no hesitancy, his grasp firm as he hoisted her up effortlessly. “Adam, don’t!”

Charlotte’s protests were laced with laughter, her lips splitting into a too-wide grin that left her cheeks sore as he pulled her into him. The moment her body had left the chair, it had acted on instinct and instinct alone. Legs wrapped around Adam’s middle with her ankles hooking together at the small of his back, and her arms wrapped around the breaths of his shoulders so her fingers could grasp him tight. When she was anchored to him, his hands gripping maybe a little too high on her thigh to help keep her in place, Adam took off running.

Her laughter was lost, becoming a single gasp as Charlotte clung to Adam a little tighter as if at any moment he could drop her. Yet, she didn’t slip, and he didn’t fumble her as his long strides left the grass and became thunderous against the dock. She gripped at the strong flex of his muscles, her lips giving out one final cry, “Adam, no. Adam. Adam! Don’t!”

For a moment, as Adam’s feet pushed off the end of the dock, Charlotte was suspended in the air with her words. Her wide eyes fell on Adam and the joy that consumed his features as his hair fell into his eyes and gravity pulled them down into the chill of the lake water before she could manage one last gasp of air. The lake water consumed them, her body still wound around Adam as they were plunged into the depths of the dark waters. The water burned inside her nose as she sunk down with Adam as her anchor. Completely submerged in the waters, Charlotte let its cold temperatures and its suffocating nature consume her. Sinking down, and further still, with Adam and only Adam until her lungs were left to burn desperate for a single gasp of air. It was only them her legs relaxed around his waist and she felt his arms unwind from her middle. Her arms propelled her back, and her feet were quick to push off Adam’s strong legs, sending her shooting up to the surface with a splash.

Throwing back her head to whip her hair back out of her face, Charlotte’s lips parted in a desperate gasp. She could hear everything now, from the laughter of the party that had continued on in the waters to Adam as he surfaced beside her just out of reach. Her eyes focused on him through the darkness, her chest heaving as she watched individual drops of water drip down the angles of his face as he pushed back his hair with a single hand before reaching up to pull off his t-shirt. Adam peeled the t-short off his body that had stuck to him like a second layer of skin and he tossed the heavy fabric up onto the dock. It was then when his back was turned and he was left vulnerable that she splashed him.

“You trying to drown me, Lowry?” her tone was playful as she swam forward, splashing him again.

Adam turned slowly, his eyes rolling as if to dread hearing her voice, but there was no hiding his playful smile as he spoke, “Guess that means it didn’t work.”

Charlotte scoffed at him, her teeth coming down to bite her lip in an attempt to hide her smile as she cast her glance to the side. She hesitated with her next words, trying to find just the right words to say as she tried to ignore how his stomach had been sent a flutter with his attention - but not even her caution could stop her from falling back into old habits: “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Adam.”

She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth. They had been too cocky, too playful, flirtatious even and it enticed Adam all too well. It only took one reach of his long arm to have her in his hold once more, his strength coiling around her body and drawing her into him effortlessly. There was no pulling away from him as he sunk down into the water again, Charlotte sinking with him, before they floated back up to the surface again. This time, the water had carried them closer to the cover of the dock. Its dark shadow cast across their features as Adam swam back with her in his arms until his back was pressed up against the ladder and just out of view of the others.

The darkness left Charlotte’s heart weak in her chest as she wrapped her legs around Adam without thought and reached a hand up to grasp at the splintering wood of the dock to stop herself from slipping beneath it any further. She had always hated swimming under the dock, Daphne and Adam always playing beneath it but it had always been too low and too easy for Charlotte to hit her head on to be comfortable with it - but it wasn’t the prospect of being carried away under the dock that left her heart weak in her chest, it was Adam.

Adam and that soft look he had in his eyes as he looked down at her.

Adam and how she could feel his hand on her back through the thin wet fabric of her dress.

Adam and the feeling of him against the inside of her thighs as she wrapped herself around him.

Under the darkness of the dock, she felt completely and utterly alone with him. It left her at a loss for words as the grip of her single hand around the rough board of the dock grew so tight her hand felt numb. Every ounce of her restraint was in that hold, and it was slipping, failing as Adam reached up to stroke her dark hair back out of her face. The breadth of his palm was warm, inviting her to lean into it, but it was the voice of Daphne that had her pulling away, her legs slipping from Adam’s hips without thought, “where’d you guys go?”

Daphne’s voice was laced with concern, which told Charlotte one thing, no one could see them from where they had hidden away. No one could see the mistake she was so close to making.

“I’m right here!” Charlotte called, pushing back just enough to wave back at her friend, “I think I’m going to turn in.”

“Fuck that,” Daphne was brash, her intoxication heard in her words, “Get your ass over here - and where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte lied, “he slipped off beneath the dock-” She met Adam’s eyes as she spoke, Adam’s soft gaze falling playful once more as he dipped beneath the water and disappeared.

“You don’t know-” Daphne couldn’t say much end before she was tugged beneath the surface, only to resurface with Adam at her side and a mouth full of water. She spat it back out at him before the night was filled with laughter.

There wasn’t a moment more of silence as the night roared on, the two wedding parties spending their night in the water until the moon was high in the sky and the exhaustion of the day began to weigh on them all. The worst part? They all had to get up early in the morning - Charlotte did not doubt that many would have a hangover to greet them - and so they decided to turn in. One by one they climbed up the ladder of the dock and disappeared across the lawn into the house, but Charlotte, she lingered.

She lingered in the cold embrace of the water until she was the only one left, and she stood out on the dock, ringing out the water from her dress until the air had gone quiet and she was sure she had been left alone, but the hollow footsteps of another soon greeted her, drawing her gaze up from the wrinkled fabric and up to Adam had crouched down to recover his wet t-shirt. Standing up, he made no attempt to put it on. Instead, he stood with it balled up in his hand, his attention on nothing but how she stood in the silver moonbeam.

“You in a rush?” he spoke after a moment, earning the subtle cock of Charlotte’s head to one side.

“Not really, no,” she answered slowly, taking a single stride up the dock only to have Adam turn his back to her.

“Com’on then, I want to show you something.”

The grasp of her hands around her dress weakened, and the wet silken fabric slipped from her hold to hang heavily off her frame. Its weight didn’t hold her back as she jogged up the dock, following in Adam’s wake as he moved off through the grass and into the thich treeline that bordered the property. Charlotte could feel the earth beneath her feet, sticks and rocks tested her with their sharpness as they pressed up into the soft skin of her feet. It all challenged the strength of her curiosity and not once did it waiver. She followed Adam without question, each step carrying her into familiarity. Each step felt as if she had taken it before, and even when she lost sight of Adam for but a moment she didn’t worry. Her feet knew exactly where to take her.

Reaching a fallen tree, Charlotte hoisted herself over it. The rough bark scraped at her shins and her knees and sent an ache into her hands but it was the toll you paid to enter the clearing that had been nothing but a figment of her dreams since she had last left the summer home at eighteen. Grass stood up high, tickling her ankles as she walked into it to stand alongside Adam to stood looking up at the trees that surrounded them. In one of them, high up off the ground was a tree house they had once called their own.

“It’s still here,” Charlotte’s words were a gasp as she stepped forward, her hand coming to rest up against the old tree.

Dark eyes danced over it all, from the roof that was blanketed in rotting leaves from the years before to the ladder that had been hammered into the trunk of the tree. Her fingers danced over the surface and came to rest over one of the rungs before she tugged on it to test its integrity. It didn’t budge. Charlotte was flooded with excitement and showed no hesitation as she took to the ladder and started climbing up.

“Charlie, be careful!” Adam called after her, his footsteps coming after as his strides rustled the grass, “You should have let me go up first. Do you think it could still hold both of us?”

Charlotte paused at the top of the ladder, bracing one elbow against the bottom of the trap door before pushing it open with a heavy thud. She took a breath and then she pulled herself up into the tree house. Moving carefully, Charlotte was careful not to catch her dress on anything before looking back down through the entryway and at Adam who stood at the bottom of the ladder with hesitancy. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Backing off away from the ladder, Charlotte lost herself in the little world they had once created for themselves in the tree house. The squeak of the ladder as Adam took every careful step was mere background noise as she took in the sight of the old bean bag chairs that had fallen victim to nature and time. In one corner their old toys had been piled to wait for them to return the next summer, but as they aged they had become forgotten and replaced with books or the entertainment they could find on their cellphones. The tree house was, above all else, a hideaway for herself, Adam and Daphne but now it was a mere relic of their childhood.

“It’s all still here,” Charlotte breathed out, the floorboard beneath her feet shifting at the treehouse was tested by Adam’s size. While it shifted, it was sturdy, and Adam was left to move through the tree house craned over and cramped.

“It wasn’t made for a guy like me,” he chuckled, his arm reaching out to brace himself against one of the walls.

His words were lost on Charlotte as she moved through the cramped tree house, her fingers grazing over the trinkets they had left behind before her eyes fell onto the floor. The one board drew her in like a magnet, Charlotte dropping down to her knees to inspect a singular spot on the floor. It was there, carved into one of the planks of wood was her name, and below it Adam and later Daphne. Their names were left there for the further generations to find, only for her to find it now.

Her fingers traced over the letters of his name slowly. Up and down the angle of the capital A, and across until she was tracing the swells of the letter M. It was there she was halted, the warmth of Adam’s hand finding her left wrist. His touch was gentle, careful as if he shouldn’t be touching her at all, as two fingers found the intricate clasp of her bracelet and let it fall to rest on the floor. With such a simple act, Charlotte felt exposed. The skin of her wrist felt the caress of the night’s breeze for the first time in seven years and Adam’s touch remained. He traced over each visible vein and down to the tiny tattoo that had been inked into her flesh when she was merely sixteen.

The number 17, was written in a barely there narrow font. It was something so small, so discrete that no one had noticed it as it was perfectly hidden beneath her tennis bracelet that was always so quick to catch their attention. But Adam, he knew it was there. She had put it there for him.

Adam’s touch felt like a burning flame against her flesh as Adam stroked his thumb over the number that had become synonymous with him in the world of hockey. It was a sensation that should have left Charlotte drawing away, burning was supposed to be a discomfort. Something that she would want to avoid, and yet it was the very opposite. The heat of his touch left her melting, leaning in to close the little space he had left between them. She could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek as he moved clumsily to sit on the floor, the stroke of his hand becoming a careful hold that guided her. Her knees screamed against the floor in protest - they would surely be marked up with bruises come morning - as she shuffled across the floor to be welcomed into his lap. His hands greeted her, each hand coming to rest on her hip and his careful touch wrinkling her dress up just enough for Charlotte to sit comfortably with one leg on each side of his thighs.

Feeling his wet jeans between her thighs left Charlotte shuddering as she came to settle in his lap. She was breathless beneath his touch, her gaze had yet to rise any further than the flex of his abs as Adam’s back rested up against the wall of their tree house. She watched each rise and fall of his chest, his every breath as uneven and shallow as her own as her eyes travelled up over the angle of his collarbone and finally to his face. Adam’s expression was soft, and his face so close to her own she could see every pore and feel every breath as it mixed with her own. It all consumed her, sending her heart thundering deep in her chest and her eyes shutting to combat the threat of tears that were on the verge of consuming her.

Being so close to him, really feeling him, it had every memory she had fought so hard to repress flooding back to her and it left her choking back a sob. Charlotte should have got up at that moment. She should have left Adam and the tree house behind her, but before she could shed a single tear, Adam leaned in and let his lips graze over her own in a ghost of a kiss.

Charlotte breathed him in, the scent of him intoxicating and the taste of him so close to consuming her tongue. His kiss was the spark that ignited a fire that Charlotte could no longer ignore. She missed Adam, so deeply, so intensely, that she couldn’t deprive herself of feeling him. With the slightest tilt of her head, Charlotte stole the last breath of air between them and let her lips kiss him in return. The caution of her kiss sent Adam shuddering.

Charlotte could feel his body tremble between her legs. He had been aching for this too, and it coaxed a desperate plea from her lips that was muttered against his mouth, “Adam-”

“Charlotte,” he echoed his name with her own and with it all their caution was lost.

Charlotte could feel his hands as they left her hips and circled around her waist to find the expanse of her back. His large hands splayed out, his fingers pressing firmly into her exposed flesh as he clung to her. Adam’s touch anchored her to him, his hold in that moment the very gravity holding her to earth and to the existence of a world of their own in their tree house. Her mind held not a single thought of what was happening beyond the walls and the trees beyond. Charlotte could only focus on three things: the touch of his hands on her body, the taste of him on her tongue as her lips parted to deepen their hungry kiss, and just how much she had missed her best friend.

For seven years she had distanced herself from him, and while being miles apart it had been easy. Charlotte had only had to struggle through the mere memory of him, and she had told herself that he was no longer the boy she grew up with but a stranger. It didn’t come without difficulty, the memory of him coming to her in the simplest of actions and in her dreams. There had been times when she had called him, to hear his voice on the other end of the call, and he always answered - but even those moments of desperation faded with each passing year. It became easier to forget him with time, but seeing him here and falling back into the old habits of being his friend had her heart aching for him more than she could have prepared herself for. She had missed Adam, and with the desperation he kiss her with she knew he missed her too.

It took a mere single breath to divide them, Charlotte’s chest heaving as she pulled back just enough for Adam’s forehead to find her own. It was there he lingered, his messy half-dry hair tickling her flesh as it was heated by his every heavy breath. He made no effort to draw away any further, and nor did Charlotte as her hands reached out to brace herself against the strength of his bare chest. Her fingers traced the outline of his peck as she thought to herself about how it was more pronounced than she remembered - and Adam must have noticed how she stared down at this body and how her feather-light tough lingered because he was soon flexing his chest playfully beneath her touch. The action coaxed a laugh up Charlotte’s throat, her head leaning back just enough to meet Adam’s gaze as he was watching her.

“What are you looking at?” Charlotte spoke slowly, her eyes entranced by his stare.

“You,” Adam hummed in return, leaning in just a little more and sending her tinger tips tracing over the swells of his shoulders, “I can’t stop looking at you Charlie, I still just can’t believe you’re here-”

“Of course, I’m here,” Charlotte breathed as she shifted in his lap. She eased up a little higher on his thighs, her teeth coming down on her lower lip as she felt the outline of his cock against the inside of her thigh. He was only half hard and trying to hide it, but she could feel him and her body was quick to remind her just how good she had once felt between her legs. It was enough to make her shudder, her core pressing up against him before her mind could register what she was doing.

Charlotte could feel the fly of his jeans against the thin cloth of her panties as her hips gave off their subtle roll. The thick, cold denim tested the sensitivity of her clit as she reached a single hand up to Adam’s lips. She traced over the outline of them slowly, feeling his every breath against her fingertips and the tickle of his mustache, before catching his lower lips with her thumb and parting his lips. Charlotte could feel the quiver of his body as he let out an uneven breath through grit teeth. Adam was holding back, she could see it in the tension of his muscle and the hesitancy of his hands as they gripped at her hips and eased her down a little deeper against the thick outline of his cock that had become prominent against his jeans.

He wanted her, and yet he didn’t ask. He couldn’t ask. Not when the situation they were in was so fragile, so complicated. Yet, it hadn’t crossed her mind. Not once. Charlotte could only focus on two things: the stiffness of his cock between her legs, and how good he had made her feel the last time she had felt him there. It had been a pleasure that she had never been able to forget, something she had craved for so long and she could have him again-

“Adam,” Charlotte’s words were a plea, her hips rolling so subtly as her fingers danced over the angles of his jawline, “do you remember, that last Christmas we spent together?”

“I remember,” Adam’s jaw flexed as he spoke.

“Good,” Charlotte sighed, her eyes shutting for a moment as she let out a quivering sigh at the pleasure between her legs. The guidance of her hips over his bulge had left her dripping, and if she kept it up she would surely cum from the friction alone - but she wanted all of him, “because I want to do it again. I want you to fuck me.”

With her intentions clear, Charlotte was sure it was then Adam would lose his calm and give in to the desire that was so blatantly obvious. Yet, Adam continued to hesitate. His hands travelled up the curves of her body, tracing over every swell and valley until they came to take a cheek in each of his hands. With careful guidance, he tilted her head just right so that the silver moonbeam was cast over her features and he could see each other clearly. Charlotte’s features fell, her full lips parting as she waited for what she thought was an inevitable rejection but the air remained silent as he scanned over the angles of her face from chin to hairline and back down again. She wasn’t entirely sure what he had been looking for, and she wasn’t even sure if he had found it when he spoke; “Charlie, how many drinks have you had?”

Her scoff was on the verge of laughter. She had asked him the same thing in her bedroom that Christmas and her answer was the same as his had been, “You think I’m drunk?”

“Can you blame me?” Adam breathed out, his thumbs stroking her cheeks slowly.

And she couldn’t. They had all spent the evening drinking everything from Vodka to cheap beer and maybe earlier in the evening she had been drunk but now her mind couldn’t have felt clearer.

“Adam,” she swallowed hard as she leaned in to leave nothing but a mere breath between them, “you sobered me up the moment I hit the cold water.”

“Promise me, Charlotte,” Adam pleaded with her, his nose brushing up against hers, his lips brushing over hers so carefully that it was barely a kiss.

“I promise,” she breathed out and with the careful guidance of his hands her fate was sealed with his kiss.

They showed no hesitancy now, Adam’s still pressed against her cheeks as she guided her in and his thumbs stroking down to her chin to ease her mouth open. Charlotte nearly whimpered at the action, her tongue welcoming his with a desperate brace. The kiss was hungry, teeth-smacking and her chin was left wet from her spit and his - but the kiss alone wouldn’t be enough to end their insatiable need. It was met by each deliberate touch of his hands as they left her cheeks to travel down her body, and her own hands as they dropped down to the belt of his pants. Tugging it free, she worked desperately at the fly of his jeans, but Adam had made no effort to help her. Not while he had become all too consumed by her body. His hand wrinkled the slinky fabric of her dress, dragging it over her flesh and pushing it one way or the other to expose more of her.

“I want to see you,” Adam muttered, his lips drawing back from her mouth just long enough to kiss down the angle of her jawline and to the crook of her neck, “all of you-”

The request came as his hands skirted over the hemline of her dress, his fingers pushing it up just enough to hit the swell of her hip, and left a heavy knot in her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept with anyone without being in an oversized shirt or having spent hours making sure her body was as close to perfect as she could be - and it left her hesitant as she felt his hands slipping around her back. His fingers were splayed out, pushing the fabric up and pooling it in his grasp. She could feel his touch against the bare skin of her back and when his hand had reached her shoulder, Charlotte had shrugged the touch away. It sent the wet dress spilling back down her body.

“I’m sorry, I-” Charlotte muttered as she pushed up the skirt to hook her thumbs around the waist of her panties, “I want to leave it on.”

She watched as his lips fell pushed together in a firm line. The Charlotte he once knew wouldn’t have hesitated. She would have stripped down right in front of him with no shame and nothing but confidence but now she hid herself away beneath flimsy fabric as she pushed her panties down the length of her legs.

“That’s okay,” he promised her, making sure to meet her eyes as he spoke, “You’ll look beautiful all the same, Charlie.” His words were a hot breath against his neck, as she placed her panties down on the floor at their side and eased herself back into his lap.

“You know that, don’t you?” Adam’s words were a near growl now as his hands slipped up her short dress to grip at her tiger-striped thighs and ground her bare cunt over the rough fabric of his jeans. The friction left Charlotte squirming, her lips parting in a soft moan as he spoke again, “How fucking perfect you are?”

Her eyes fluttered shut as Adam lifted her up just enough to raise her from his lap. His hot mouth moved over the swells of her breast in a sloppy kiss, and when Charlotte had braced herself against his shoulders, he was reaching down between them to rid himself of the denim that divided him. He made quick work of it, dragging the zipper down and forcing the fly open just enough to push his boxers down and freeing his cock from its confines. He wasn’t fully naked out of sheer desperation and convenience. Charlotte could finally have all of him.

Charlotte didn’t take her time with him, not like she had the first time she had the pleasure of taking his cock - even if it seemed bigger than she remembered it to be. She showed no hesitation as she reached down and took him in a single hand. Stroking it slowly she pressed up onto her knees and directed him to her dripping cunt. Her teeth grit tight together at the pressure of the head of his cock against her entrance, her expression overtaken by a wince at his size even when she was slick and had been wanting him since she was wrapped around him beneath the dock.

“Charlie - fuck - we can go slow-” he tried to tell her, but she was already sinking her cunt down the full length of his cock and unleashing a groan from his lips that rendered him at a loss for words.

Adam’s hands reached out, almost as if he didn’t know what exactly to do with them as he felt her all around him only for them to settle on her waist once more to help guide her up and down the length of his cock. It was a hold that evolved with each rise and fall of her hips, his arms coming to wrap her in the strong embrace of his arms. Adam held her firm to him, Charlotte feeling every flex of his muscles against her body as he picked her up just enough to lay her out on the floor without slipping from the sweet hold of her cunt.

It was with Adam hovering over her, his cock hitting just the right angle that Charlotte drew him in with an insistent hold of his face. She needed his lips against hers for his kiss needed to muffle the feeble moans that began to rip up her throat. It left her throat raw as he absorbed every kiss, his lips leaving hers after a moment just to relish in the sound of her.

“Come on Charlie,” he coaxed her, “I want to hear you. I want to hear just how good my cock makes you feel. No one’s going to hear you all the way out here. It’s just you and me. Get loud for me.”

With his words, Adam pushed up from hovering over her and onto his knees. Arms hooked behind her knees, angling her hips to move with him and he thrust his cock in a steady rhythm hitting her sweet spot each time and teasing the very limits of her core.

Charlotte watched as his muscles flexed, sweat building in a subtle skimmer that was kissed by the moonlight and it all became too much. Her throat was left sore by every desperate, uncontrollable moan that tore its way into the air and she was left reeling against the rough floorboards of the tree house that scratched at her back. The discomfort of it was lost on the pleasure, her hands reaching out desperately to anchor herself on anything, and could only find his hands as they were hooked behind her knees. Her hands fumbled over his hand clumsily, desperate to hold it. She grazed over the length of his fingers and over his scarred knuckles before he was releasing her legs and took hold of her hands. He held them tight as he leaned forward guiding them up to rest back against the floor.

As he moved, Charlotte moved with him, her short legs winding around his hips and easing him as deep as she could manage to take him. It was with him buried deep inside her, and his hands holding hers that her pleasure consumed her. Her core flexed around his thick cock, silently begging him to cum with her own pleasure.

“Charlie,” came Adam’s careful caution, “we didn’t-”

They hadn’t used any protection - not that they had any options laying around in the tree house. It hadn’t even been a thought to her until now when he was on the verge of his climax - but it didn’t worry her, she had been on an oral contraceptive since she was sixteen.

“I know,” Charlie breathed out, her hands giving his a gentle squeeze as her legs quivered around him, “It’s okay-” she let out a steady breath, “-we’re okay-” then another, “-cum wherever you want to cum, Adam.”

His eyes seemed to darken as his hair hung down into his eyes. His lips parted in a heavy pant, his eyes threatening to shut as he muttered, “I’m going to cum inside you Charlotte. Would you like that?” His words earned an eager nod, and his next words were a mere whisper that was lost in the breeze and unheard by her ears; “I'm going to make you mine-”

And he did, with Charlotte quivering around him and a groan leaving his own lips Adam’s face softened and he came undone. His hips collided with hers one final time, and with his cock pressed up against her limits she was flooded with his cum. Charlotte could feel every wave of it as it consumed her cunt. The remnants of him would flood her panties, and linger on the inside of her thighs and it would be all that remained of him when their night would come to an end - but it wouldn’t end just yet.

Easing back, Adam found his seat against the treehouse wall once more. His chest heaved with exhaustion, and yet he pulled Charlotte with him. He cradled her in his arms and seated her in his lap. A large hand stroked back her hair and stroked over her cheeks slowly before he drew her in for one last firm kiss.

Charlotte could feel every bit of intense emotion Adam poured into the kiss as his hands left her back and knotted in her wet hair. It was there, with the hold of his hands cradling her head that Adam drew back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. They each sat there a moment, breathing heavily until Adam had just enough to find his words; “Please, just be honest with me, Charlie,” his words were pleading as his eyes scanned over every inch of her softened features, “do you love him?”

Him. The word echoed in her mind as Charlotte’s stomach knotted deep in her gut. Adam wasn’t asking how she felt about him, but about the man she had arrived with at the cabin earlier that morning. The man she had spent the last five years trying to convince herself she was in love with. The man that waited for her back in their bedroom of the cabin while she had become lost in her own world. Wesley.

Charlotte’s lips parted as if to say something, anything, but her throat was paralyzed by the dread that consumed her. Her face had since fallen, and her gaze with it as she pushed up from Adam’s lap and stumbled back. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Adam, the threat of crying all too consuming as she found herself lowering herself down through the door of the treehouse and down the ladder. It was there her tears began to spill, one tear burning like acid down her cheeks followed by another as she moved through the path she knew like the back of her hand. The path that led her back to the cabin, and back to Wesley.

#adam lowry imagine #adam lowry #adam lowry x original character #nhl imagine #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey imagines #demi's birthday bingo 2k23

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lord-of-the-harvest · 2 years ago

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Pleasure, Pain, and Power Chapter 1

Intro

Summary: Fox has been looking for a new pet since his last one met a nasty fate on stream, and has his eyes on a fellow “industry worker” Jasmine. She’s a cosplaying, gore-watching streamer who might just be able to hold the horrifying title of “Fox’s Pet”.

Contains: mention of hentai, sex work, animated gore, and human trafficking

MDNI

“Oh my GOD!!”

Jasmine covered her face in disgust at the video she was watching, cartoonishly peeking through her fingers. These over the top reactions are what her people paid for, and she would make sure they’d get it. Jasmine had found her niche when it came to streaming, “cute girl reacts to disturbing content”. She could handle it, she had been desensitized to this stuff for years, but that’s not what they wanted. Her viewers wanted their sweet slutty streamer decked out in various cosplays to shudder, gag, and scream at what was on her screen. Viewers could send in recommendations, or pay extra to guarantee their video would be seen. Usually it was weird hentai, viral shock videos, or porn involving the worst excrement of the human body. Tonight was no different, some poor hentai girl being ravaged by tentacles, only to be ripped apart at her climax.

“Omg guys, I’m actually gonna vomit after that. That video came from f33t_fucker69, go to hell f33t_fucker69 ew!!”

All an act. She squirmed in her chair, pitched her voice up as high as it’d go, trying to sell it as best she could.

“That’s all for tonight guys.” She said stifling a fake gag. “I’ll see you all again for the next stream Thursday night! Stay horny pervs~”

With a wink, she closed out of the stream and opened her phone. Jasmine enjoyed it, she really did. So much creativity went into her work, and the payoff was incredibly rewarding and encouraging. She managed to make some friends with fellow streamers, and even a few customers. One in particular had been incredibly generous. That’s who she was texting. She didn’t know much about him, other than his age, a fake name, a plethora of kinks, and a few of his favorite animes. He had sent her the very outfit she was wearing that night, it was a black latex one piece, with a few magical girl elements included. She went over to her long mirror, snapped a couple pics in it, and relaxed back into her chair. She sent the more provocative pictures to her favorite customer, thanking him for the outfit; and posted the rest to Twitter, thanking those who joined the stream. Although she loved this line of work, the screen time got to her, so it was time to unplug for a minute and take a shower.

After she returned, robe on and hair wrapped up in a towel, she caved and looked at her phone again. On it displayed multiple Twitter notifications, a text from her friend asking about the stream, and a message from “Fox”.

“You look delicious darling, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you on your little stream. Tell me, have you thought more about my offer?”

Jasmine threw her head back, scrunching her face, and sighed. One of her most important rules was she never met up with clients, no matter what they promised her. She knew too many girls with too many bad experiences. But, something about “Fox” was different. Sure he was perverted, older, and every other sentence of his was likely a lie, but he was still so different to her regular viewers. He was charming, understanding, and would even check up on her when she seemed off. Not to mention he clearly has the cash to back up his word, he sends her gifts and tips sometimes just for talking to him. The first time he asked her out came with a $100 deposit right into her CashApp. He was only asking for dinner at a fancy, expensive restaurant she could only dream of going to. The kind of place where you go to look at the menu and none of the options come with a price tag. He also offered her enough cash to pay off her next two months rent just for showing up. Fine.

“Hi Fox!! I’m so glad you loved my stream! You’ve made me such a generous offer, and after much consideration, I’d love to accept! I’ll meet you there Wednesday night at 8:30!🧡”

‘I’m going to hate myself Wednesday night aren’t I?’ She threw her phone on her desk and fell into bed. Falling asleep exhausted, but hopeful for what the week will bring.

Fox

Finally she agreed.

Fox had been in the market for a new personal pet for the past few months, as his last one met a nasty fate on stream after they severely disobeyed him. After months of scouring the internet and watching countless streamers, he finally decided on Jasmine. He commissioned her for dozens of videos, photo sets, and sexting sessions, all of which to get a glimpse of how well she could hold the title of “Fox’s Pet”. He had told her to be as “authentic as possible” for him, since he knows better than anyone how important it can be to put on a mask for your viewers.

The two really did get close, both of them sharing intimate and personal details about themselves. They often bonded over sharing details on their personal lives and work. Fox would share stories about the idiots at work he had to deal with, and Jasmine would share stories of school and her viewers. Of course they’d keep a level of anonymity expected for their relationship. Jasmine never shared where she went to school, and Fox never shared what he did for work. Fox had never gone for a fellow sex worker before, and he wondered how different it would make her from the rest. He chuckled to himself at the thought,

“Well if she doesn’t work out as my pet, at least I know she’ll make a dazzling co-star!”

(This is my first time writing guys, go easy on me! I have more chapters written and planned, so stay tuned!)

#boyfriend to death #ren hana #the price of flesh #tpof ren hana #tpof announcer #tpof fox #tpof fanfic #ren fanfic #Pleasure Pain and Power

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ghostlycoyote0 · 2 years ago

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Alright I’ve done nothing but scroll through the tags of stuff I like so far, time to actually do the blogging part of this blogging website

So, I have this habit of thinking of elaborate crossover plotlines between everything I’m interested in. In-universe it’s all one continuous thing, but it’s very disjointed when I think of it because I usually just do one scenario and whatever would branch off of it at a time. It’s also framed as a D&D campaign, idk why, it doesn’t really affect how anything happens. Anyway, I will be talking about this crossover thing a LOT, it’s one of the main reasons I even joined this website because I know no one who likes all of the same things and therefore no one who would understand what I’m talking about. There, long opening ramble done.

Right now, the three biggest things for me are Borderlands 3, Psychonauts, and Skulduggery Pleasant

There could be some really interesting parallels between a lot of these characters. Raz, a 10 year old who saved the world multiple times and picked up psychic abilities very quickly, even though he’s definitely too young to be doing so; Valkyrie, an adult who was 12 when she started learning magic and saved the world pretty much annually for, what? 7-ish years? Sasha, a highly skilled psychic secret agent who is perfectly happy to teach Raz how to shoot lasers at will, and was very easily convinced to do some probably-not-safe experiments with him; Skulduggery, a highly skilled sorcerer detective who was perfectly happy to start teaching Valkyrie how to summon flames and displace air at will, and took basically no convincing to bring her along to fight one of the most dangerous people in the country, probably also the world.

Not to mention the parallels that Tanith alone could bring. She was in love with Ghastly for a while, but neither of them confessed in time, and when they finally planned a first date, she got possessed for years and came back to find out he had died while she was gone. Compare that to Sasha and Milla, who are very obviously in love yet will not confess.

Also, this one’s more of a stretch but still there and could still lead to some funny interactions, Tanith and Sanguine compared to Hammerlock and Wainwright. “Brit who fights monsters for a living and man in a brown suit with a strong southern American accent”, but it’s more like looking in a warped mirror than a true parallel. Tanith and Sanguine were only together while Tanith was literally possessed by a being of pure hatred who only wanted the world to end and she hated him at all other times, need I say more?

Anyway.

I want to see interactions between a lot of these characters. What happens if Sasha meets a well-dressed skeleton? What conversations would they have? “How are you uh..” “Walking around? Necromancy. Anyway-“ What about an interaction between Oleander, the guy with heavy trauma related to bunnies who idolises the military, and Tina, the girl who constantly wears a bunny mask and has killed countless people in and out of warfare with little to no remorse?

What if everyone is pulled out of their own worlds and thrown together, forced to work together to somehow find a way home? Maybe spirits are low and no one’s sure what’s going to happen. Maybe Sir Hammerlock decides to start telling a story about some huge monster that he hunted - altered to be less scary and more light-hearted because there’s at least one child present and everyone likes a fun story. Maybe Skulduggery shares a story of his own later, about a comically incompetent bad guy and how he saved the day.

One thing is for certain though: Sasha Nein is the only person to actively find and start a long conversation with Claptrap. He’s way too interested in the idea of a fully sapient robot to be annoyed.

I’ll share some of the more plot-like ideas another time but, yeah. Huge crossover. It lives in my head rent free.

#there are some more things I need to mention and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to do that in the tags as well #1: I have not read Skulduggery Pleasant phase 2 yet #I will get to it I just have a really long backlog of books to read #2: So far I’ve only played BL3 and only the base game of it #I’m just making sure I got every side quest and doing every crew mission before I start playing the DLCs #3: I haven’t played Psychonauts 2 #I’ve played the first game and Rhombus of Ruin but I just haven’t had time or been in the right headspace to start a new game #long post #rambles #crossover #skulduggery pleasant #tanith low #valkyrie cain #psychonauts #razputin aquato #sasha nein #coach oleander #borderlands #borderlands 3 #sir hammerlock #tiny tina #claptrap #billy ray sanguine #mortal coil spoilers #the dying of the light spoilers #I think that’s everything I need to tag?

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bruxbea · 6 months ago

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@ndostairlyrium tagged me once upon a time but I keep deleting the result because it feels more like Dragon Age than not...which is probably fine tbh: Snippets from Lark under the cut:

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we managed to scale all this just to find there’s actually a path up the opposite direction…? That can only happen to us so many times right?” "And if you had just loaned me your doublet, captain portal wizard wouldn't have slapped my boob by way of introduction. MANY things about today could have gone differently yet here we are~"

“I assume like most cases this can be solved with a combination of enthusiastic wiggling and just a dash of creative vaulting~“

“Not sure if it means anything but I’ve actually been sleeping *better* since being kidnapped by a space mollusk and being held at knifepoint by said Vampire so-“

“Wyll even with horns you’re still the most air-quotes “in the box” one of this group, just breathe and be glad you’re not climbing trees as a lemur. Sorry “Lemure”….wait, I think I’ve misunderstood something-”

“Sure, I may be a Druid but this entire lot can bite me running…” “If experience has taught me anything in life, it’s how to recognize when and where one should be polite. Auntie Ethel positively screams “behave in this house or I will kill you” so let’s just go with it for now. I’m also almost positive she’s a bog witch at minimum so take that with grain of salt…or a brick if you’re brave-”

“...I woke up one morning to discover what I thought to be a snake nailed unceremoniously to the door of the room across from me… The fear that crept up my spine was quickly overtaken by pain as I realized it was in fact the remnants of a tiefling’s tail- my tail…cruelly and brutally severed near the base to be affixed to the door by a sharp bit of metal jammed through its spade…any love I held for the Gate died that day, as well as my ability to sleep fitfully if alone…

“ He may be a little…catty…but I know all too well what it’s like to go multiple days at a time without eating. No one should have to suffer through that, regardless of origin. If it helps him stave off starvation then I see no problem. Even arseholes need to eat. Wait-“

“Harhar indeed, there’s what, seven of you lot all together but NOT ONE of you thought to mention ‘Lark darling, dearest wellness dealer and usually not combative songstress who keeps us all alive and fit, you’re currently only equipped with a stick of cured meats and doing Jack all in terms of damage, maybe back off a bit-“ I mean really! “Shadow Cursed Lands or no, it’s been a few days since we supped together and I don’t want Stari to have to bite through grime or whatever other “Thisobaldian horrors” might have accrued on my person since the last time I bathed-“ “I find it the very definition of rude that we take one afternoon to ourselves to become reaccustomed to city life, maybe enjoy the circus…see the ocean…only to wind up tits deep in raptors and disembodied clown bits…and they weren’t even the sexy kind…”

“Please let them have hot water, clean towels…and cake…I don’t know if I’ve ever had a cake that wasn’t second hand come to think of it…”

“Can we just…take a moment to appreciate how absolutely abysmal the chances of that working in our favor actually were…? Are we to say a prayer, possibly leave a coin…? Maybe we offer them Gale’s underthings, I’m not entirely sure what we should do in this instance truth be told-”

“To be perfectly honest? Not to give everything away Orin, but holding an innocent child at knife point is comparatively tame compared to some of the shet I’ve seen Lae’zel pull when threatened-”

“This outfit cost more coin than I possessed in the last two years combined…wearing it feels like I’m breaking the law somehow-”

#lark #tav #in character snippets #tag game #bg3 #minor spoilers #delete later maybe #to clarify Lark is an orphan/urchin who never lived in the city proper #she's two shades away from feral #City Passing as she calls it #She also dons a disguise spell to when shopping or interacting within the gates due to past altercations over being a lone tiefling

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seita · 4 years ago

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— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #iwaizumi smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #hajime iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #afton.writes

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ynscrazylife · 3 years ago

Note

Can I please please request one where Natasha and Yelena have another younger sister (Y/N) and she gets badly injured and her older sisters are hysterical since they’re afraid to lose one they love the most

A Race Against Time | romanoff fam fic

Summary: Natasha and Yelena do their best to help their hurt younger sister.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/twitalents

“Everybody alright?” Natasha asked as Alexei and Melina approached her and Yelena. The redhead herself definitely hadn’t gotten out of the whole ordeal without injuries. In fact, from Dreykov punching her to the fight against the Widows, and the fight against Antonia (not to mention the injuries from the past few days that she hadn’t taken care of), she was in some pain. However she didn’t worry about herself, she knew she’d be fine. She always was.

Natasha glanced over and spotted Y/N making her way over to them, too. From the distance, Natasha couldn’t tell that she was limping and was very hurt.

“I am clearly injured,” Melina deadpanned, causing Natasha to look back over and send her adoptive mother a smile as an apology. With a quick glance, Natasha could tell that she’d be okay, she’d just need a cast on that ankle and-

Thump.

The sound, accompanied by Yelena’s loud gasp and yelp, broke through Natasha’s thoughts and caused her to whip around suddenly. The sight her eyes landed on instantly sent what felt like an ice shard plunging into her chest. No. No.

By the time she snapped out of it, Yelena was already by Y/N’s unconscious figure, which the thump must have been - her plummeting to the ground - and Alexei was helping Melina over as fast as he could. Natasha sped past them and dropped to her knees, her brain wired to already be processing the situation and formulating a plan, while she lightly stopped Yelena’s wrist to prevent her from going to shake Y/N.

“You don’t move someone who is unconscious unless necessary - it could injure them,” she breathed out. Yelena, who could see that her older sister was in autopilot mode, sat back and let her do her thing, opting to look up at her parents, instead.

Both their eyes were glued to Y/N. Alexei’s eyebrows crinkled and, after taking a big breath, muttered (just loud enough for them to hear), “There’s blood on you.”

Natasha’s eyes snapped down and sure enough, her knees were bloodied. She quickly looked up only to see blood beginning to come from Y/N’s stomach where she had fallen on her side. Closing her eyes for a moment to allow herself to think, Natasha carefully and gently pulled up Y/N’s shirt, only to see an open gash in the shape of the Widow hourglass.

“Wha-?” She said, barely forming a word, and Yelena leaned over to see.

She immediately began shaking her head and pushed Y/N onto her back. “I-I know what this is, I think. I remember hearing about a weapon that’d leave that mark,” she rambled out.

Melina peered over Natasha’s shoulder and when she saw it, her face went pale. “That-that weapon, it ejects a blast that makes that mark when it meets the skin. It was made as a precaution in case any of the Widows went rogue - it was made years ago. But only a few were made because they were so confident in themselves. It-it goes along with a process they constructed to re-brainwash the Widows. The blast gets under her skin, in her body, with a chemical that’s in it, and that chemical starts the brainwashing process,” she explained.

A park of hope entered Yelena’s eyes. “So she won’t be fully brainwashed?” She asked.

“Not without the rest of the procedure,” Melina began, but then her eyes widened when she remembered something and horror quickly flashed across her face. “But if the process isn’t completed within a certain time period, the chemical will wear off its brainwashing effects and instead will start hurting her . . . A lot . . . But I have an antidote-” her tone sped up now, “-It’s back at the house. We need to get her there.”

Natasha and Yelena nodded, both having gone through a great wave of emotions throughout Melina’s words. Yelena, while racked with worry, still remained hopeful, and Natasha did her best to be, too, but her tears were drying and she was sniffling.

“The jet is-” Alexei began to say, when the sound of the engines of cars rapidly approaching cut him off.

Natasha looked over. “Shit, Ross,” she said, regretting even tipping him off to their location in the first place.

Melina bit her lip. “You girls go. Take Y/N home. The antidote is labelled ‘Ant-Widow,’,” she told them firmly.

Yelena’s lips parted to protest, not wanting to split up, but catching Natasha picking up Y/N out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She nodded, rising to her feet.

“We’ll distract them. They won’t want anything to do with us when they realize you’re not here,” Melina insisted.

Natasha sent her a look that she could only hope was conveying everything she wanted it to. A million thoughts whizzed about in her mind, none making room for each other. She wondered, would they leave them alone? Or would they be taken into questioning? Shouldn’t she be the one facing Ross - since she called him there? Is Y/N going to be okay? Will they get there in time?

By the way Melina looked back at her, Natasha thought that her message had been received. There was no time to go over the plan any longer, if they stayed even a couple more seconds they’d get caught by Ross, whose army of cars headed to a halt.

Natasha bolted off in the jet’s direction, Yelena quick on her heels. They rushed inside and Natasha took her time to gently put Y/N down before going to the pilot seat. Yelena sat down in the back, wanting to watch over their little sister.

Neither of them said anything until Natasha had gotten them off the ground and away from the field. Yelena could hear the engine whirring and she knew that Natasha was going as fast as this aircraft could probably go.

“Natasha,” she said, her voice small and hesitant, reminding Natasha of her own self when she was younger. The redhead braced herself for her sister’s words. “Do you think we’ll get there in time?”

Natasha let out a slow yet steady breath, fighting back the urge to tell her not to say that. She wondered the same thing, and she hated it. She didn’t answer, though, because she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know herself, and she also hated that.

Yelena looked down in defeat when she didn’t get an answer and continued watching Y/N. She couldn’t stop herself from worrying and when she spotted the other injuries — bruises, cuts, scrapes — littering her body, she got up and went to the back.

The blonde grabbed the med kit they had stored and went back, quickly opening it up and getting everything she needed. First, bandages. Yelena put pressure on the wound even though she knew it wouldn’t bleed out, and a twinge of guilt hit her when Y/N moved and groaned unconsciously.

She then wrapped up Y/N’s stomach and tended to her other injures, every so often glancing at Natasha, who she could see by the way she was sitting up straight that she was tense. Upset. Worried. Yelena had to admit she was feeling those same things but busied herself by taking care of Y/N.

This carried on and they were about ¾ there when everything shifted. Y/N, who had been mostly quiet throughout the journey, suddenly rolled onto her side, eyes opening with a startled gasp.

Natasha frantically looked up at Yelena and the latter jumped to resolve the situation. Gently, she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and tried to turn her onto her back, but Y/N fought her off and scurried back, against the wall.

“Y/N,” Yelena said, slowly putting her hands up in a “surrender” gesture.

The younger one shook her head as tears began to flow down her cheeks. “It-it hurts,” she got out, wrapping her arms around herself.

Yelena sent Natasha a frightened, desperate look and the glint in Natasha’s eyes held tears in them. “I can’t go any faster!” She cried out in frustration, her anger at her helplessness beginning to grow.

Yelena turned back to Y/N. “Take deep breaths with me, okay?” She said, and took a couple deep breaths to show her. It took Y/N a second, but she followed along. However, the pain didn’t take a break for long, and quickly came crashing back to her, like a magnet.

She let out another cry, but this one filled with that much more anguish, desperation, a pure rage from wanting it to be over, a rage that nearly caused her to vomit. Y/N leaned forward, hoping that there was something - anything - that could relieve this pain for even just a second. The warmth she was soon filled with from her older sister’s arms wrapping around her and pulling her close did nothing to soothe pain, but she found someone to have a steady grip on, someone to hold.

This continued on. In every cry let out, Yelena could’ve sworn each one was louder than the last. She didn’t know what to do so she did the only thing she could and stayed there. After a particularly loud cry from Y/N, Yelena couldn’t stop a “Natasha!” from escaping.

“I’m trying!” She shouted over the engine and over Y/N, doing her best to blink away the tears and focus, but everytime she was on the brink of it, something tore her away.

After what felt like what could only be described as eons, Natasha managed to touch down in the same spot she had just a day ago. The moment they made contact, she leapt out of her seat, nearly tumbling to the floor, and practically fell against the door.

“Stay with her,” was all she said to Yelena before pushing all her weight against the door and breaking off into a run towards the house.

Natasha had run fast before. To escape Antonia, on countless SHIELD missions, and even to beat Sam in a race, but none amounted to this. The mountains and trees whipped by so fast that she felt like she was in a race car and it made her head spin. Nonetheless (and she thanked her extensive training for that), Natasha’s stamina held out and she ran through the house, tripping over things and knocking others over, until she reached Melina’s office.

At first, everything looked like a normal office space for a normal business woman, but the underlying science and spy secrecy that she knew had to be inside was revealed. Cabinets upon cabinets filled with vials upon vilas and files upon files. She scoured the entire room and nearly dropped the green-filled file when she saw its label. This was it.

A moment of victory passed until Natasha remembered the weight of the situation and she got back on her feet, running like the wind, and leaving behind the office looking like some raccoons had gotten inside.

By the time she reached the top of the hill, Natasha could make out the outline of Yelena carrying Y/N (who was draped over her like a curtain, by the way) toward her.

They met in the middle and Yelena put Y/N down, the older sisters kneeling beside her. Y/N was half-conscious at this point and Natasha moved at the speed of light to get the vial lid off. “She was getting worse, I couldn’t wait!” Yelena yelled.

When she got it open, Natasha pushed it towards Y/N’s lips. “Y/N, honey, c’mon, you gotta drink,” she encouraged, hand trembling as Y/N attempted to fight her off. It was only Yelena running her hands through her hair that calmed her down, and she took a small sip of the vial’s contents at first before gulping it down.

When she stopped squirming and seemed to no longer be in pain, instead falling into a peaceful sleep, that’s when both Natasha and Yelena had calmed down. It had been a rollercoaster, but they did it, and she was okay. The two held each other, relieved.

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chloegong · 3 years ago

Text

that semi-AU romajuliette + benmars fic

i need a permanent place to store this after dumping a random google doc on twitter so here it is, the author writing fic for her own book because people gave me headcanons and they were too good not to make use of

the one where juliette and marshall go out for a night out on the town and roma and ben have to go along to supervise because one time they accidentally committed arson —headcanon from twitter user @leonidasvaldz

a semi AU where Benedikt and Marshall were hanging out with Roma and Juliette in those happy months R&J had together in 1922 before everything went wrong (aka you can take this as canon because it will fit the timeline but the characters won’t have memory of this in the actual published books)

Disclaimer: i wrote this in one go inside a starbucks please expect ao3 user chloegong and not Author Chloe Gong who does multiple rounds of edits on her books

Second Disclaimer: nobody go putting this on goodreads before someone on my publishing team kicks my ass (rightfully so, i’m on deadline rn and i’m writing fanfic instead of my real contracted manuscript)

Mandatory reminder that Our Violent Ends is available for preorder with all links here :)

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And yet, somehow, Benedikt was watching fire curl around the side of the building, the roof beams giving a loud groan before shuddering and caving in on itself.

He turned a look onto Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Five hours earlier...

Juliette climbed in through the window of Roma’s bedroom, careful to hug the burlap bag close to her chest as she landed on his carpet. The howling wind outside drowned out some of the clinking, but the glass bottles were still making a racket no matter how carefully she hugged the bag. She had gone full throttle for tonight; when no one was watching and her relatives were downstairs crowing over a game of cards, she had snuck around and robbed the liquor cabinets at the Scarlet mansion quite generously. Now she dropped the bag onto Roma’s floor with a huff, brushing a curl of hair out of her eyes.

“Where’s Marshall?”

Roma looked up from where he was reading, putting his book down and rising from the bed smoothly.

“Well, hello.” He strode toward her, stopping before her with his arms crossed. “Lovely to see you too. You do know it is my bedroom you just snuck into, right?”

Juliette pretended to jump in surprise, looking around wildly. “Do you jest? Oh, bother. Let me climb back out and go find my real lover. Marshall! Where are—”

With a huff that seemed to double as a laugh, Roma grabbed her wrist before she could turn around and leave through the window again.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly.

“I know.” Juliette reached up with her free hand, clasping her cold fingers right onto his neck. Though her palm was freezing from the bitter temperatures outside, Roma hardly flinched, he only shrugged his shoulder up to keep her hand there. He couldn’t fight back the grin. For several seconds, the two of them only stood there, looking like a pair of idiots smiling at each other.

Then his door opened.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Marshall bounded into the room, throwing the door wide open. With a horrified expression, Benedikt hurried in after him and closed the door quickly, listening for movement on the other side.

“Yes, leave the door wide open,” Benedikt said. “While any White Flower strolling the corridor can peer in and see the Scarlet heir standing there in a silly coat.”

Juliette stepped away from Roma, peering down at herself as if she had forgotten what she put on. “I didn’t think it was that silly. It’s my disguise.”

“You do look a little like a housewife,” Marshall said, considering the coat.

“A fifteen-year-old housewife?”

“I suppose that is exactly why you look a little silly.”

Juliette pulled a face, but refrained from arguing further. She was here tonight because Marshall wanted to see the new Scarlet club that opened along Thibet Road, and she had promised she could sneak him in. Unfortunately, Marshall was bad at keeping secrets, and the worst at keeping secrets from Benedikt. The moment that Benedikt heard Marshall was planning on entering Scarlet territory, he had decided that he would come in accompaniment.

Juliette supposed it was only fair. Benedikt didn’t entirely trust her, but he was nice enough. He tolerated her presence and always kept an eye over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t spotted on their territory if she poked her head in to see Roma. While Juliette didn’t know much about Marshall either, he was far warmer than his best friend, and for the first time last week, they had even enjoyed an outing with just the two of them. Juliette Cai and Marshall Seo—out and about in the border territories on a quaint evening.

That outing had ended with accidental arson though, so it was rather possible that exacerbated Benedikt’s desire to play chaperone. And of course, if Benedikt was coming along, Roma wanted to tag along too.

The arson was hardly their fault, Juliette and Marshall had maintained when the Montagovs asked questions. What kind of person left a stack of hay out beside a bar? And what kind of hay was that easily flammable just from accidentally whacking one of the lanterns on the awning onto the stack?

“All right.” Juliette hauled the bag up again. “Are we ready to sneak onto Scarlet territory?”

“Absolutely not,” Benedikt muttered, strolling past her for Roma’s window. “But is that going to stop either of you?”

Before anyone could answer him, Benedikt had already hopped the small gap between windows, climbing into their neighboring building for their route out unspotted.

“Great!” Juliette said. She passed the bag to Roma so he could do the carrying. What was the point of converting a rival gang enemy into a lover if not to lug around her heavy things? “Glad we’re all so enthusiastic.”

Roma sighed, clambering onto his sill and making the climb too. “The things I do for you, dorogaya.”

Marshall hurried after him. “I would argue you’re actually doing this for me, dearest Roma!”

With a snort, Juliette climbed out last, and pulled the window after her.

The Scarlet club had been a bust. Of course, Benedikt had figured that would be the case from the get-go, especially if they were sneaking in at such a late hour to avoid being seen by anyone important in the Scarlet Gang. At least Juliette had provided good alcohol, and now he squinted at the label of the wine bottle under the street lamps while they walked, taking the smaller main roads along the periphery of the city.

Up ahead, Roma and Juliette were whispering to each other, though they didn’t sound like they were talking in full sentences. Those two always communicated in looks and gestures, swapping languages whenever they felt like it and ending up with some incoherent tangle of words that no one else could comprehend.

“Is there anything left in that?”

Benedikt glanced to his side, shaking the bottle to show Marshall. “One last swig. All yours.”

Marshall took the bottle. He put it to his lips and swung up, his head tipped to the sky and the line of his throat bared to the night. Benedikt shivered suddenly, a line of goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. The season had turned cold and the wind that blew onto his face was biting. He wrote off his shudder to the chill, to the temperature dropping with the longer they spent outside at such an hour.

Suddenly, Marshall was squinting into the distance. “Hey.” His call summoned Roma and Juliette’s attention from ahead, who both turned around to see what the matter was.

Marshall pointed to the dark shape off the end of the road. “Isn’t that the abandoned factory we lost to the Scarlets?”

“Is it?” Juliette asked, a sudden glee in her face.

“Why would you say that?” Roma bemoaned. He didn’t bother trying to stop her as Juliette hurried ahead, eager to explore the factory. “Look what you’ve done.”

But Marshall was wearing a similar expression, his eyes scanning the factory as they approached closer and closer. Wordlessly, he handed the bottle back to Benedikt, and though Benedikt’s head was spinning from the drink, he still recognized the exact face that Marshall made before he was going to get himself into trouble.

“Mars—”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he insisted, tipping his chin forward. Juliette had disappeared into the factory. “You two be look-out. We wouldn’t want someone finding us here, right?”

Benedikt scarcely had a second to argue back. Marshall was already hurrying off.

Inside the factory, Juliette trailed her hands along the dark walls, her eyes wide. The machines looked strange in the moonlight, but stranger while sitting so idle. She was used to seeing rows and rows of workers in the daytime, trailing after her father as he ran inspections on the work of their trade partners. It might have been the wine in her system, but everything seemed to sway: sitting so inactive in movement that her eyes were imagining movement.

“Pst.”

Juliette almost jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she muttered, whirling around with a hand on her heart. Marshall slunk out from the shadows, both his hands in his pockets. “You gave me a fright.”

“Me? Frightening?” Marshall picked up a strange object on the table, inspected it for several seconds, then set it back down. “I am the least frightening person on the planet.”

“Yes, well, when it’s so dark, even a cuddly teddy bear would be terrifying.” Juliette felt around her dress. She thought she had tucked her lighter in here somewhere. There were little pockets sewn around the sleeves and armholes that she kept all her weapons, though if anyone asked, she would say she had the ability to materialize them out of thin air.

“Do you scream often at teddy bears?”

“Only when they sneak up on me.”

“I don’t see you screaming at Roma.”

“He gets a special pass. He’s only a teddy bear on the inside.”

Marshall snorted. He leaned down, trying to read the paper taped down to the table. At last, Juliette found her lighter—it was actually in her sock—and she brought it close, thumbing down the sparkwheel for a flame.

“Do not touch—for demolishing,” Marshall read under the new light. “Are the Scarlets going to build something new here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Juliette replied. “My father doesn’t include me in his business meetings yet.”

“Hmm.” The shadows of the factory danced. Juliette thought she saw someone darting in her periphery, and she whirled around, but it was only Marshall’s shadow. Unfortunately, she had scared Marshall with her movement, and he bumped into her, asking, “What? What is it?”

The lighter flew out of her hands, landing on the paper.

“Nothing, nothing!” Juliette assured. “I was seeing things.”

But Marshall wasn’t convinced. He swiveled around. Peered hard into a corner. “Was it ghosts? I know this city has ghosts. All that death creates so many ghosts.”

Juliette tried to look where he was looking. She couldn’t see anything except the dark.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Just last week, I felt something walk by me and then there was no one when I looked. I swear to you, if it wasn’t ghosts then I—” Marshall stopped suddenly, turning around to look at the table. “Uh… is that supposed to happen?”

Juliette whirled around too. The whole table was on fire. “Oh, God.”

With a sudden pop, the fire sprung up and licked up to the walls. There had to be something sprayed inside the factory already to prepare for demolition, or else the flames would not be traveling with such intensive speed.

“Marshall,” Juliette said simply.

“Yes?”

She looked at him. “When the Montagovs ask, we blame the factory and say we have no idea what happened. Run!”

Benedikt and Roma kept watch in relative silence. Benedikt’s head was spinning, and his cousin looked like his head was doing the same if his swaying was any indication. Roma was humming softly under his breath, toeing the grass that grew around the abandoned factory.

Then, there was a sudden sound from inside, and the first tendrils of flames blew out from the topmost windows.

“Roma,” Benedikt said plainly. “I’m willing to bet my life savings that Juliette Cai just committed arson.”

Roma tilted his head up, his jaw dropping agape. At first, he could only stare at the growing fire, eating up the roof beams. Then, he said: “To be fair, it could have been Marshall.”

Benedikt threw his arms into the air. “Who looks more like the arson type, Juliette or Marshall?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“The answer was Juliette!”

Benedikt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was rapidly growing concerned, but before he could suggest they go in to search for the two, Juliette and Marshall ran out from the factory—laughing. The factory was burning down, and they were laughing, grasping at each other and spinning in circles right in front of the factory. They looked a sight: seconds away from collapsing atop of each other in utter delirium.

Benedikt turned to Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Roma was struggling to hold back his laugh watching her with Marshall. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Marshall stumbled, and Juliette squealed, reaching out to grab his arm before he could trip and land flat on his face. Benedikt almost—almost—let a smile slip. Before Roma could sight it and tease him for enjoying himself after all, he cleared his throat.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“Faulty factory!” Marshall called back.

Benedikt shook his head, turning on his heel. They needed to get out of here before someone reported the fire.

“Come on!” he called back to the three. “Let’s go before the Municipal Police arrive.”

Upon Benedikt’s summons, Marshall left Juliette’s side and hurried to catch up. He slowed to a stroll once he was beside Benedikt, but Benedikt could feel Marshall watching him.

“What?” Benedikt asked. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his cousin was following too. Thankfully he was, though it was mostly Juliette hauling him along, their hands clasped together and swinging while Roma kept looking at the fire.

“I think you enjoyed yourself,” Marshall replied smugly. “After all that complaining about sneaking into Scarlet territory.”

Benedikt reached out and rapped his knuckles on Marshall’s skull. With a shriek, Marshall darted ahead.

“You want me to enjoy myself?” Benedikt shouted after him, breaking into a run too. “Come back then! Let me throttle you!”

FIN.

#these violent delights #romajuliette #benediktmarshall #how am i out here using my own book tags this feels weird FKJDHSDKJFH #should i tag my own name too #chloe gong #now i've gone and done it #bookblr #yabooks

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