#me when i sit down to write more of this AU: what compromising situation can i put elijah in today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiribaku-queen · 3 years ago

Note

Heyyyy. So i was thinking a out mafia au fic like where kuroo is a mafia leader and youre his gf. Somehow, while his group were in a war, u got kidnapped which made him furious ofc and whiel saving u and trying to escape, u saw someone trying to shoot hima nd u go ahead and sheild him which made u got shoot. Its a angst but a hppy ending. Ill let u do what kind of ending u want 😁 anyway congrats and hv a great day!

Beginnings of a War

Angst

Kuroo x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

TRIGGER WARNING: violence, gun mentioned, blood

A/N: I had so much fun writing this piece and I literally couldn't wait to start this one! I thought of this Bokuto when writing this piece because I can't get enough of him

Happy reading and I'd love to know your thoughts!

The tension in the room was uneasy as the two leaders from opposite gangs stared each other down, neither saying a word. There was no easy conclusion to their mess but the longer they sat there, the more impatient both parties got. Yet, Kuroo was never one to give up easily. He was persistent and determined. Meanwhile, the two-toned haired man who goes by Bokuto was notorious for always getting his way. Right now, they were both stuck in the middle. Kuroo leans back on the black, leather couch, resting both arms behind the back.

“That’s my final bet. Take it or leave it. You either release him and take the money, or we’re gonna have some trouble,” Kuroo finally spoke up. Bokuto slants his eyes at him, clearly not persuaded by his offer.

“You’re a good comedian if you think I’m going to release one of your men for that small amount. After what he did to ten of my men?” Bokuto was trying to place the blame on the other leader but that only made Kuroo’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“Your men attacked his family and his girl, leaving her in a hospital. If anything, your men deserved everything coming to them,” Kuroo set him straight. Even though Bokuto knew that, he knew that his men were in the wrong, he still had to protect them. So his comment visibly upset him as he slammed his fists down on the glass table in front of him, almost causing it to break if he hit any harder.

“I don’t give a shit what my boys did. All I care about is what your men did to mine,” he stated clearly. By now, Kuroo was getting a headache.

“Then what do you want? You don’t want the money, you don’t want anything else I offered. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you want!” he grew impatient and raised his voice. Before Bokuto had a chance to open his mouth, the double doors behind him flew wide open and in you came, eyes only on your boyfriend as you walk towards him. Sexy and sultry-like, you come to greet your boyfriend after a long day of shopping, not paying attention to his special guest. But he was paying close attention to you.

The click of your heels meeting the floor caught the attention of all the men in the room. You loved it when all the attention was on you because you knew. You knew you were attractive. You had the confidence, the walk, the clothes, the attitude. Everything a girl boss should have. Even though eyes were on you at all times of the day, only one man caught your attention and you would do anything for him.

Striding towards the mafia boss who was clearly in the middle of an important meeting, you made your way into his lap. You made yourself comfortable, touching the back of his hair before pulling him in for a steamy kiss. The kiss was slow and deliberate. You made sure to taste every part of him, your tongue gliding against his, purposely biting his lips ever so slightly. You kissed him like there was no one else in the room. But little did you know, Bokuto was looking you up and down, clear interest written all over his face.

You pulled away with a soft hum, satisfied to be with your boyfriend again. Kuroo, who was annoyed, is now smitten with you. He has, and always will have, a soft spot for you and isn’t afraid to show it.

“I’m a little busy, sweetheart,” Kuroo mumbled against your lips, lost in your eyes, your taste, your smell, your everything.

“I just missed you, daddy,” you cooed with a pout.

“Alright, I’m almost done,” he promises. He puts a protective hand over your waist and you wait in his lap like the good girl you were until he was done with his meeting. Kuroo focuses his attention back to his guest, acting like that whole interaction didn’t happen.

“What do you want?” Kuroo asks again. This time, Bokuto locks eyes with you and you just give him an innocent look that makes Bokuto obsessed.

“Her.” He points to you. That shocks both you and your boyfriend. You didn’t know what was going on, maybe because you just forced your way into their conversation, but you could tell that Kuroo wasn’t very fond of his answer. His hand tightens on your waist.

“She’s off limits,” he almost growls. Now that’s a voice you haven’t heard in a hot minute.

“Then the deals off,” Bokuto says simply, leaning back while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Kuroo slants his eyes and gives you a few soft taps to your butt.

“Go upstairs,” he demands. You know by the tone of his voice that he was upset and you knew not to talk back. Last time you did that, you couldn’t walk for two weeks. And that was… so long ago that you can’t even remember. So you immediately got up and walked out of there, but Bokuto still had his eyes on you.

When you left the room and completely out of sight, Kuroo sits back and crosses his legs. He lets out a deep sigh and glides his tongue across the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He didn’t understand why Bokuto wanted you all of a sudden, out of all people, but there was no way in hell he was giving you away.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you. You want the money? Fine. Take it. You want a woman? I’ll find you one who can’t resist you. Name your price, but she’s my woman,” Kuroo made things clear with the man across from him.

“I’m not leaving until I get her,” Bokuto was set on having you, taking you and making you his. Kuroo uncrosses his legs and leans forward on his knees.

“Oi. Can you fucking hear? I said she was off limits.” Bokuto copies his movements.

“Does it look like I give two fucks? If you want one of your men back, give me the girl,” he compromises. Kuroo clenches his jaw and leans back.

“Then there’s nothing to discuss. Leave.” Kuroo glares at him. And that was asking him nicely. But Bokuto lets out a loud chuckle.

“You’re gonna let a bitch get in the way of your men?” the mafia boss taunted. And boy, did it work.

“Do you want to die?” Kuroo asked through gritted teeth, a vein clearly visible on his forehead from how much anger he was trying to hold in.

“Is that a threat?” Bokuto turned serious, all jokes out the window.

“No. but this is,” he says, standing up and pulling a gun out of the inside of his jacket pocket and points in straight in his opponent’s face. With his fast reflexes, Bokuto saw it coming and also took his gun out. So now both men had guns pointed in their faces, neither of them moving. Just glares being exchanged.

“Tsk, tsk. Now is that how you persuade an old friend?” Bokuto shook his head in disappointment.

“Friend? More like business partner,” Kuroo corrected him. They had a silent face off. Pointing dangerous weapons at each other but neither wanting to pull the trigger first. Bokuto thought this was exciting. He laughs, spins his gun with his finger and places it back in his pocket. He turns around, looking unfazed by the whole situation and simply leaves. Somewhat relieved, Kuroo also puts away his gun and cautiously watches the other boss leave. Bokuto stops right as he’s about to step through the door to give Kuroo a wary warning.

“You better be careful. I always get what I want,” he said before making his disappearance.

You were waiting patiently in your shared bedroom, swinging your feet around with a pout on your face. You didn’t know what you walked in to, but it didn’t seem good from the looks of it. Kuroo looked so serious down there, you thought to yourself. But your mind wandered to naughty thoughts because you loved seeing him like that, even though the situation doesn’t call for it. He just looks so sexy what he’s serious.

Kuroo opens the door to the bedroom and before you could say anything to him or greet him, he smashes your lips together without any explanation. You were surprised by his actions but you kiss him back nonetheless. From the way his lips move against yours, you could tell that he was in a bad mood. Your lips were too smushed and teeth were rubbing against each other, so much that he was starting to hurt you. Kuroo moves on to attack your neck and then you were finally able to breath.

“Kuroo,” you whined, still short of breath. He ignores you and instead starts to suck on your supple skin, creating bruises of all kinds of sizes on your neck. He grabs your face again, smashing your lips together and he pushes you back so that the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to fall backwards, Kuroo falling on top of you. His legs were on either side of you as he dominated the kiss.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he growls, hands wandering to grope your body harshly. He licks from the top of your breasts all the way up your neck and captures your lips again. Your hands go to tangle his raven locks and wrap your legs around him.

“I’m all yours,” you whisper against his lips. Kuroo smirks, quickly removing his jacket then undoing his tie before he goes to unbuckle his belt. Excitement started to rise in you. Angry sex? Fuck yes. You were in for a hell of a night and let’s be honest, one hell of a week.

You were kept inside for a time being because Kuroo was wary of what Bokuto said to him at that meeting. He wasn’t going to take any chances, but you understood where he was coming from. It was boring not being able to leave the fancy mansion you lived in, but you made your boyfriend make it up by letting him by you all sorts of gifts to apologize.

But after a while of nothing happening, your boyfriend lets you go on a shopping spree to make up for your boredom and loss of time. But you couldn’t leave until you brought extra bodyguards to look out for you. Annoying as it was, you obliged. There was no use in arguing because if you did, he probably wouldn’t have let you out. The whole threatening fiasco didn’t bother you one bit. You couldn’t count how many times people have said that to him and nothing has ever happened to you. You believed that nothing was going to happen this time around.

You were walking down the empty street after a successful day of shopping, having every single one of your bodyguards hold bags of clothes, accessories, shoes, food, things that you couldn’t resist buying. You skipped along the sidewalk, feeling happy and free, the warmth of the setting sun and the blow of the oncoming evening wind was making you feel content with life. You wonder if your bodyguards were feeling the same. Speaking of bodyguards, they were being awfully quiet. Spinning around, you realized that you were alone.

You paused, stunned frozen.

Where were your bodyguards? All of a sudden, several men appeared out of the shadows of the alleys. You sighed in relief, realizing that it was just your bodyguards pulling a prank on you.

“You scared me! How could you leave me alone like that!” you jokingly scolded them. But they were indeed not your bodyguards. The smile that was on your face was quick to drop upon realization. You took a few steps back, trying to get away from these men who were getting closer and closer to you. But you were stopped, running into someone’s chest. You looked up to see who it was and all of a sudden, everything turned black.

When you woke up, you found yourself sitting on a chair, arms wrapped together and duct tape covered your mouth. It didn’t take long to realize that you’ve been kidnapped. The classic empty warehouse and burning fire in a can was proof of that. You checked your surroundings and was surprised to see that your legs weren’t tied together. You weren’t blindfolded either, but you were tied down to the chair. It wasn’t long after you woke up that Bokuto makes his appearance, sitting backwards in a chair right in front of you. He looked happy to see you but you couldn’t say the same. You slanted your eyes at him, disinterested in whatever he wants to say or do. You tried to keep your composure by being still and keeping a poker face, because if you didn’t, you don’t know what he’ll do to you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Bokuto greeted you. “You’re probably wondering why you’re not tied up.” He starts, then rips the duct tape off your mouth and cuts the ropes around your arms. Then he leans down to your level and smirks.

“Because I know you’re not going to run away. Look at you shaking,” he says and looks you up and down then going back to his chair. It was true. You were shaking. You’ve never been in this situation before. You’ve always imagined it: being nonchalant and bored of all the empty threats and your savior of a boyfriend would come save you from all the madness. But now you were second guessing yourself, now being caught in this situation. You were shaking, but you were still going to stand up for yourself. That’s what Kuroo taught you to do.

“You’re not going to get away with this. Kuroo is going to save me and you’ll regret ever doing this to me,” you ran your mouth. But Bokuto doesn’t respond. So you go on. “Kuroo is the strongest fighter I know. He could kick your ass in his sleep. You don’t even look like a fighter. I bet you’d do down so easy!” You said that anything that came to mind. Yet, Bokuto continued to stare at you with a bored expression. And that made you nervous.

“I would never date you. You’re ugly, mean, and-and… you suck!” you couldn’t come up with any good comebacks. But for some reason, that set him off. He stands up so fast that it knocks the chair over and that shuts you up real quick. He walks over to you, duct taping your mouth again.

“Noisy bitch. Maybe this’ll shut you up,” he says and tightly seals your lips shut with the silver tape. He then grabs your chin to look up at him. You glare up at him, already tired of how rough he was handling you. He tilts your face from side to side, getting a good look at you.

“See, you’re prettier when your silent,” he comments. He looks down at the tape and frowns. He tapped the tape that was over your mouth over and over again, like there was something missing. Bokuto opens the palm of his hand and one of his guys puts a bright red lipstick in his hand. With a swift action, he pulls the cap off with his teeth and applies the lipstick on the duct tape that outlines your lips. He spits the lid on the floor and smirks.

“There, that’s better,” he says. He grabs your chin again and pulls you in for a kiss. You struggle to get out of his grip but he was stronger than he looked. When Bokuto pulled away, the lipstick was smeared across his lips, but didn’t seem to care. He was about to say something until he heard screaming and grunts of pain. He turns around just in time to see your boyfriend getting thrown on the floor, all bloodied and beaten up. You gasp, tears beginning to form at the sight.

This was wrong. That couldn’t be your boyfriend. There was no way. Your boyfriend was strong. He beat up and sometimes even killed when anybody got in his way. How could this have happened?

Kuroo was thrown on the floor and a handful of men continued to beat him up, kicking him in all places. You shook your head in denial, not even wanting to watch but couldn’t look away. Bokuto was loving everything. Your expression. Kuroo’s sounds of pain. He was getting a kick that things were turning out how he had planned.

“Look who decided to show up,” Bokuto kneels down to his level, grabbing a handful of hair and picking him up to show his face. Blood was dripped down the sides of his face, from his nose and mouth, his cheeks were bruised and he looked like he was about to pass out.

“Let her go,” Kuroo barely manages to let out. Bokuto clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“I told you, didn’t I? I want her. Anything you want to say to your little girlfriend for the last time?” Bokuto allows him to say some final words. But Kuroo was too out of it to comprehend what he was saying.

“What about girlfriend over here!” he exclaims, presenting you perfectly fine and free from any scratches. Bokuto rips the duct tape off and cries ripped from your throat.

“Kuroo Tetsurou! You better get up! Stand up please! Fight back!” you cry but that just causes Kuroo to get more kick and punches to his body. Large tears escaped your eyes and you couldn’t stop the sounds of agony coming from your mouth.

“You’re the best fighter around, right? Fight back please!” you begged him. Getting beat up, okay. But not even trying to fight back? That’s not the Kuroo you know. What was wrong with him? Why was he allowing them to do this to him? Kuroo looks up and faces you with a smile.

“I can’t let you get hurt, baby girl,” he professes. And that just breaks your heart. More sobs escaped your mouth but the sounds of skin hitting skin was louder. Kuroo was being tossed around, kicked, punched, spit at. Blood was stained everywhere, and you didn’t know what to do. Even though he was getting beat up so badly, he was still standing. And that seemed to annoy Bokuto. Time was ticking and he was getting impatient. If he was doing to die like that, then he was going to have to do it himself. Bokuto pulls the gun out of his pocket, aiming for Kuroo. You see it just in time and as if your feet were moving on it’s own, you run to shield him before he gets shot. The moment you touched him, you heard the gun shot and everything went black

The feeling of soft sheets under your fingers woke you up. You jolted awake, sitting up in the bed that was all too familiar to you. You were at home, but how did you get here? You checked your body all over but there were no signs of pain or even wound marks. There was no bullet, no bruises, no scarring. So, what the hell happened? Then your mind went to your boyfriend. Getting right out of bed, you ran to his room and he was resting in bed, bandages covering his shoulder.

“Kuroo,” you called out to him, running to his side and grabbing his hand. He shifts in his position, sighing deeply. Then he brings your hand to his lips, placing a small but meaningful kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re up, my dear,” he says as a fact, eyes barely open. Concern washed over you and so many questions came to mind. You didn’t know what to ask first.

“How-what-but I… I took the gun shot for you,” you tried to recall what happened. Kuroo knocks your forehead and you pout.

“You think you’re so slick. I saw what you were trying to do. I flipped you over just in time. Now I have this to remember,” and then points to his shoulder with the bandage. He took the bullet for you. You pout again, feeling bad. Not only did he get beaten up pretty badly, but he also got shot that night? That was supposed to be your job.

“If I didn’t get shot, then why did I pass out?” you questioned, more to yourself.

“I think you passed out from the shock, baby,” he comforted you. It made sense… but when you looked at your boyfriend in this condition, it made you upset. You started to burst into tears and hit him in the chest.

“You idiot!” you yell, accidentally hitting the place he got shot and he jumps up in pain. But you cuddle right up to him to make up for it. But you thought he deserved it.

“What about Bokuto?” you shot up and looked at Kuroo was worry written all over your face. He softly smiles at you and pets your hair.

“We all retreated. For now. But it’s not over,” he tells you. Oh, it is far from over. This is actually just the beginning.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo oneshot #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #mafia au #bokuto kotartou

149 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

Note

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way).

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers.

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms.

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight.

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back.

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house.

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him.

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him.

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump.

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more.

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room.

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable. Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence.

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change.

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you.

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging. “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises.

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length.

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance.

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches.

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace.

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly.

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate.

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day.

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

133 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 4 years ago

Note

Not sure what kind of AUs you write, but could you possibly do a Mob!Bucky x Soft!reader? And by soft!reader I mean she’s generally very kind, gentle, and cutesy, the “wouldn’t hurt a fly” type, except when defending those she cares for, then it’s like someone flipped a switch and she’s hell on wheels lol

All Bark and No Bite

Summary: When you fell on hard times, comfort came from the very last place you expected

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Soft!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, intimidating behaviour

Author’s Note: I really loved this request :) thanks so much anon

---

Approaching the front door of your apartment, you heard low talking coming from inside. Your dad hadn’t mentioned anything about having guests over, but you were making his favourite spaghetti for dinner, so maybe he’d just invited a friend over to try it.

He loved showing you off to people, and you loved the proud smile he wore whenever he did.

You turned the key and pushed open the door, seeing your father in the front room, sitting beside a youngish man you didn’t recognise. Clean shaven with neatly slicked back hair and a pretty expensive-looking suit, he was absolutely nothing like the friends who were usually brought home for dinner.

As soon as your father saw you he jumped up from the couch, looking a little antsy. ‘Hi sweetie. This is Bucky, a friend from work.’ He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, before turning round to look back at his friend. ‘This is my daughter, y/n.’

You gave Bucky a warm smile. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too darlin.’ He had a thick, deep Brooklyn accent that made your stomach tingle.

‘Are you staying for dinner? I’m making spaghetti.’

Bucky sent a nervous look towards your father, who seemed to be attempting a very subtle head shake, hoping you wouldn’t notice. There was definitely something weird going on, you could’ve cut the tension in the room with a knife.

‘That’s alright.’ Bucky eventually replied. ‘I should get going soon.’

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as you took your coat off and hung it by the front door. Only when you walked through to the kitchen did you hear the deep mumbling start again, far too quietly for you to make out any of the words.

You heard the front door open and close, then you heard your dad quickly shuffle into his bedroom.

---

An hour after the guest had left, dinner was ready, but your father was still locked away. You walked to his bedroom and timidly knocked on the door, inching it open to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

‘Dad? Is everything alright?’

He looked up, you could immediately tell he’d been crying. He sighed and patted the bed, inviting you to sit by him.

‘I sorry, sweetheart.’ He reached out for your hand and squeezed it. ‘You know we’ve been struggling a bit lately and, well, I owe some money to some bad people.’

‘That man, who was here earlier?’

‘He’s one of them, but he was here to try and help me out. If they found out he could get into a lot of trouble.’

His grip on your hand was tightening, almost to the point of being painful, but if that’s what he needed to do to keep him grounded then you were happy to let him.

‘How bad is it?’

He turned to look at you, tears welling in his eyes. ‘We could lose everything.’

That hit you like a punch in the gut. He looked absolutely devastated. You hadn’t seen him like this for years, not since you lost your mother.

You moved your arms to circle his shoulders, giving him a tight hug.

‘It’s okay dad. We’ll figure it out.’

---

The next day, while your father was out at work, you were woken by aggressive banging on your apartment door. You considered ignoring it, but they didn’t let up, almost thudding the door off of its hinges.

Opening it cautiously, you saw two burly, intimidating guys staring down at you, and Bucky stood slightly behind them looking a little sheepish.

‘Hey there sweet thing.’ The one at the front said, his alcoholic breath washing over your face. ‘Is your daddy home?’

‘No, he’s not.’ Bucky’s face dropped slightly, obviously shocked by your firm tone.

‘Can you tell me where he is sugar?’

‘No.’

Bad breath gave a low, sinister chuckle before stepping forward and lowering his face to level with yours. ‘I really think you should. We don’t want to have to do this the hard way.’

You were probably being stupid and reckless, but no way were you going to be intimidated into compromising your dad’s safety. You leaned in even closer to your unwelcome guest, leaving barely an inch between your forehead and his.

‘If you so much as touch me, I’ll scream this fucking building to the ground.’

It took a second, but he eventually backed up. ‘I like you, kid. I’ll be seeing you. Soon.’

He turned and walked away, the other man you didn’t recognise following him closely. Bucky hesitated for a second, staring at you while his mouth curled into an impressed smile. He grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear and put it between his lips, winking at you before finally following his colleagues down the hallway.

After firmly pushing the door closed and sliding the chain across, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a few shaky breaths, thankful that you’d come out of that interaction unscathed.

You never told your father what had happened. He had enough to worry about.

---

A few days later, you were working a double shift at the diner, trying to earn as much money as you could to help your dad out. You’d been on your feet for thirteen hours straight but, thankfully, it was pretty late, so the place was almost completely dead.

You were filling up the coffee machine with beans when you heard the bell above the door go. Turning your head, you saw Bucky saunter in, eyes glued to the newspaper in his hands.

He took a seat at the counter. You wiped your hands on your apron and went to stand opposite him.

‘Hi there.’ He seemed to recognise your voice, his head snapped up as soon as you spoke.

‘Hey.’ A wide smile spread across his face. ‘I’ve never seen you in here before.’

‘I don’t usually do the graveyard shift. Just, y’know, trying to earn some extra money.’

His smile dropped slightly after hearing the exhaustion in your voice.

You hadn’t intended to make him feel guilty. If anything, you owed him your gratitude, cause knowing that there was someone else helping your father out made you feel so much better about this shitty situation.

‘Coffee?’ You chirped, trying to lighten the mood a little.

‘Great, thanks.’ You grabbed him a mug and started pouring. ‘I, uh- I’m really sorry about the other day. Doorstep intimidation was really unwarranted, I tried to convince them out of it.’

‘It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.’

He smirked slightly. ‘You handled it well enough. I was impressed.’

‘Oh I’m definitely all bark and no bite.’ You passed him his coffee and gave him a warm smile. ‘But keep that to yourself.’

Pottering around behind the counter for a while, you felt his gaze on you whenever you passed by him. It was actually quite nice, having this devilishly handsome man show some interest, so you found yourself coming up with as many excuses as possible to walk in front of him.

Ten-or-so minutes after he’d arrived, you had to duck into the kitchen briefly, and when you came out you found yourself pretty disappointed to see that he’d left.

You trudged over to his empty coffee mug, picking it up and double-taking when you saw that it’d been sitting on top of a fifty dollar note.

He must’ve left it by accident, surely? Fifty dollars is a ridiculous tip for a cup of coffee.

You slid it into your apron, figuring you’d give it back next time you saw him. You could even use it as an excuse to get your dad to invite him back to the house, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to that- you hoped that maybe he’d come around by choice.

---

It’d been a week since you’d seen Bucky at the diner, the fifty dollar note was still sitting in your bedside dresser. Your father had been going downhill, getting worse everyday, and the temptation to give the money to him was getting more and more difficult to resist.

Coming back from the grocery store, you climbed the stairs of your apartment building and turned into your hallway, the sight that greeted you making you stop dead.

Bucky was sitting outside your apartment, leaning against the door, looking like he’d just been in a horrific car crash. As soon as he saw you he struggled up onto his feet, the full extent of his injuries becoming apparent as you got closer.

‘I’m really sorry y/n, I didn’t know where else to go.’

‘God Bucky, what happened to you?’

‘They found out what I’ve been doing.’

Your eyes widened in shock. ‘They did all this just because you helped my dad out?’

‘Not exactly.’ He winced as he limped out of the way of your door. ‘I haven’t been playing ball with them for years, I’m tangled up in more shit than I can keep track of.’

It was definitely a stupid idea to let a guy being chased by the mob into your home, you knew that, but you were really struggling not to feel sorry for him. He looked completely broken.

‘My dad’s gonna be out all day.’ His dejected nod at that was the final straw, you knew you had to help him. ‘But I’ll clean you up.’

You gave him a reassuring smile as you let him through the door. He steadily lowered himself onto the couch while you fetched a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you figured at the very least you could give him a bit of comfort and wipe all the dried blood off his face.

You took your makeshift first aid kit into the front room and sat next to him.

‘Look at me.’ He shifted his face towards you. You wrung out the cloth and gently pressed it to a deep gash above his eyebrow, making him wince. ‘I’m really sorry this happened, you didn’t deserve it.’

He chuckled lightly. ‘You gotta teach me how to do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Flick between the nicest and the scariest person I’ve ever met.’

You gave him a faintly amused smile. ‘We lost my mom when I was a kid, my dad needed all the kindness he could get.’ Bucky looked a little shocked at your honesty. ‘But he’s also stupid as hell, so he needs defending pretty often.’

‘He’s lucky to have you.’

Your eyes flicked to meet his, sensing a hint of sadness behind his words. ‘Do you have anyone?’

‘If I did, I probably wouldn’t have ended up beat to shit and on the run.’

You sighed and nodded, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and scanning your eyes over his face again. ‘That’s about the best I can do. You’ve stopped bleeding, but you won’t be winning any beauty contests for a while.’

He chuckled and ran his hand over his hair, taking a deep breath.

You were really conflicted about what to do next. Having him here could put both you and your father at risk, but were you really just going to throw him back out on the street? Anything could happen to him out there, you’d never forgive yourself if he would up in an even worse state.

‘Bucky, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.’

‘Thanks.’ You could almost see a wave of relief passing over him. ‘I don’t think my place is safe at the moment.’

You reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight, a calm silence falling as your eyes locked together. He slowly moved his free hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes, then letting it come to rest at your jawline, gently cupping the side of your face.

You closed your eyes and settled further into his hand, almost feeling yourself melting under his soft touch. Between working and looking after your father, you’d never really had the chance to get close to anyone like this, so these sensations were pretty new to you.

You felt his body shift slightly, and a second later felt his lips press against yours. It was unexpected, shocking you a little at first, but it didn’t take long before you relaxed completely and returned the kiss. It felt like there was electricity flowing through your body, making all your hairs stand up and your stomach do flips.

Getting a little carried away, you lifted your hands up to hold his face to, completely forgetting his extensive bruising. He winced slightly and pulled away.

‘Oh god, sorry I forgot.’

‘S’alright.’ He flashed you a wide smile. ‘I knew you had some bite in you.’

---

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #mob!bucky x you

644 notes · View notes

pure-kirarin · 4 years ago

Text

Killer x reader (having a stressful day) English / French

Disclaimer : This will be in French and English. It was written originally in French and translated to english. I added the french version at the end of the post if anyone is interested.

A/N : こんばんは ! ♡ リクエストしてくれてありがとう~ @holykillercake san. This is my first time writing something both in English and in French. Alsooo, writing something for Pasta-husbando ! I hope that you will like it >o< I never noticed that Kirarin & Killer both have “キラ”, this explain why Killer’s hair is so healthy and shiny...Anyways~ 始めましょう !

-ENGLISH-

«- Relax. »

The moment his fingers touched your skin, your shoulders unclenched as if a weight or a burden had dropped off them. Your muscles were stretched to the limit; An underlying tension, no doubt, you were carrying the stress of a whole week on your frail shoulders. «- Y/N. » Just your first name, nothing else.

It was his way of asking you what was bothering you and you understood it. You were there, you had just come to his room, sitting on the sofa and there he is – as it has now became a habit – behind you, offering you a massage. Fairy fingers put pressure on your shoulders, fingers that could as well kill as take you to heaven. Never once you have felt afraid. His touch was comforting, familiar.

« -Don't worry. I just had a stressful day...The usual. You melted under his touch. You felt his fingers tighten at your remark and you could make out his thought pattern. -No Killer, nobody bothered me. You won't have to kill anyone. -I wasn't planning on killing anyone. You couldn't suppress a small laugh as you guessed his confusion. He was extremely protective of you, even if he hid it pretty well. Dear lord, just his presence was enough to put you in a better mood. -Yes, yes, of course. And what about the guy from last time ? » You reminded him of your last party, or rather, the party where you both had to babysit Kid once again. A man a little too drunk had taken advantage of the crowd to put an indiscreet hand on your lower back. Needless to say, Killer broke his arm without blinking – a reflex. To be fair, Kid would have reacted even worse, the redhead and you were like brother and sister.

His fingers reluctantly left your shoulders, he got closer to the large bookshelf, as big as one of the room's walls.

Killer was an avid reader, he had books from different origins. You were always in awe in front of his wide knowledge. When did he have all the time to read these books ? Certainly during nights of insomny. He came back and sat down next to you, in his hands, you recognized the book "A Thousand and One Nights", the cover was thick and decorated with a golden frame. You smile excitedly, you and Killer had this habit; whenever you felt bad or couldn't sleep, he would read you fairy tales. He had read dozens of them to you ; The Little Prince, Alice in Wonderland, the Tales of Hoffman. But your favorite was always “A Thousand and One Nights”. (Arabian Nights) This book cristalised your love. Whenever you couldn't sleep, you would join the man in his room and he would tell you, like Scheherazade, the astonishing tales. Before you even knew it, you had fallen under his spell. He patted his knees and you rested your head just there. His voice carried you to the sands of the east. A voice extremely gentle, mesmerizing. This intimate moment was enough to eradicate all your worries. One hand was carrying the book, while the other stroked your hair and cheeks in turn. His voice told you about the adventures of Sindbad, the famous sailor from Bagdad. He had bought this book from an old bookstore in Alabasta and it introduced him to the oriental beauty. When he finishes reading the tale you get up slightly and snuggle up in his arms. He circled your waist with his as you stayed there for a moment. -I love it when you tell me about the adventures of Sindbad. I feel like I'm seeing a side of you that no one else can access. -And that's true. You are the only one who wants to hear these stories. He strokes your hair. -All credit goes to you. You are an excellent storyteller. -And you are an excellent listener. » He smiled behind his mask, maybe if he took it off, you could've seen the rose-color that tinted his cheeks.

He appreciated how you cared about everything he said and everything he loved. You were the only person in the world he shared this with, who he could stand sharing all of this with. The stress of the day was now nothing but a vague memory. Only one thing was missing. You wanted to get closer. You wanted to look at him and kiss him. The adventures of Sindbad were not enough. « -I want to look at you... » You breathe out, your voice was no more than a sigh, a slight whisper that made him smile behind his mask. Smile that you don't see but that you could imagine. You didn't have to see him, you just had to pay attention to his chest rising with the rhythm of his breathing. You now knew how to decipher every gesture and the slightest variation in his voice. But it didn't stop you from wanting to look at him. You knew each other more than anyone, but you always wanted more. You wanted him entirely to yourself. You wanted him to lay bare his feelings just as you did, because he was your comfort zone and you wanted to be his. You sit, your slender fingers brushing against the hard surface of the mask. You feel his breathing stop. « -For me... » you add, insisting.

It wasn't the first time you'll see him without a mask, but could you be satisfied? He even kept it on in his sleep. Your fingers start caressing the golden locks. « For you. » He repeats, his voice was firm but penetrating. Coming from behind the mask, it was somewhat veiled. Someone else would never have guessed his hesitation but you? Easy task. You couldn't suppress a smile, one of a child that was promised a sugar cube. You were now sitting next to him on the sofa, wrists on your hips, catching your breath, eyelashes barely batting.

The mask was now resting on the armrest. Your eyes layed on his perfectly sculpted face and the purplish lips that you were dying to kiss. Did he hide his face, like Medusa hers, out of fear of petrifying you? «- Killer ... You are so...beautiful. » No need for words, a finger rested on your parted lips. Your gaze was enough, words were sometimes too overwhelming. His azure eyes shone behind a curtain of golden hair. You hesitate, a second then two, before coming to sit on his knees. He was surprised by this proximity but it didn't bother him since he put your hand on his chest. His skin was warm, his heart was beating considerably faster. He didn't say it, that gesture meant "I love you" and you knew it. - Thank you for being there for me. » Your face was inches from his. His lips barely caressed yours before kissing you fully as his hand rested on the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Once again, the gesture spoke better than the words. I love you. I want you. I want you to give me all your stress, all your pain, I want to carry it for you.

- (Y / N) ... A sigh ... I lo- Suddenly, the door thudded open. You didn't have to look back, you knew, both of you knew who that was. -Killer! When are we gonna eat I'm sss---... Wait what, FUCK- - Can't you knock on the door for once? You grabbed a pillow and threw it at Kid, who was already turning around, embarrassed to have interrupted you. He disappeared as quickly as he had come, uttering a myriad of obscenities in his way. Killer buried his head in your neck, embarrassed to be found in this compromising situation, although it could have been way worse. You cursed Kid inside for interrupting you.

-Killer, what were you saying ? He puts his mask back on murmuring a « nothing »

-But I swear I heard you say it. You were going to say « I love you », right ? You teased

-If you heard it then why are you asking ? He was extremely thankful for wearing his mask at that moment.

-Because I want to hear it again ! -Too honest, you were too honest for his own good. -I love you. -W-wait I wasn't prepared ! You were now the one to blush. Killer wasn't the kind to express his feelings all the time and that openly, so it meant a lot to you.

« Cute » was all he thought of you in that moment. He got up holding you tight against his chest ;

-Well, I think that Kid is really going to throw a tantrum if he doesn't get to eat. You must be starving as well. Would you like to help me in the kitchen ?

-Of course I would. But first put me down. -I am scared that is out of the question.

He simply answers as he proceeds to hold you over his shoulder, heading towards the kitchen. - French -

«- Détends-toi. »

A l'instant où ses doigts entrèrent en contact avec ta peau, tes épaules s'abaissèrent comme si un poids ou un fardeau en disparaissait. Tes muscles étaient tendus à l'extrême ; Une accumulation de tension sans doute, le stress de toute une semaine.

« - (T/P). »

Juste ton prénom et rien d'autre.

C'était sa manière de te demander ce qui te tracassait et tu le compris. Tu étais là, tu venais tout juste de rentrer dans sa chambre pour t'affaler sur le sofa et le voilà qui -comme à son habitude- t'offrait un massage. Il avait des doigts de fée, comment des doigts pouvaient-ils aussi bien tuer que t'emmener au paradis ? Tu n'avais jamais eu peur de lui. Son toucher était réconfortant et familier.

« -Ne t'en fais pas. C'était juste une journée stressante. »

Tu fondais sous son toucher, sa présence derrière toi était rassurante. Tu sentis ses doigts se crisper à ta remarque et tu pus deviner son schéma de pensée.

«- Non Killer, personne ne m'a embêtée. Tu ne devras tuer personne.

-Je ne comptais tuer personne.

Tu ne pus réprimer un petit rire en devinant son trouble. Il était extrêmement protecteur lorsqu'il s'agissait de toi, même s'il ne le montrait pas. Bon dieu, rien que sa présence était assez pour te mettre de bonne humeur.

-Mais oui, bien sûr. Et le type de l'autre fois, on en parle ?

Tu ne manquas pas de lui rappeler votre dernière soirée ensemble, ou plutôt, une énième soirée où il fallait prendre soin de Kid. Un homme un peu trop alcoolisé avait profité de la foule pour poser une main indiscrète sur le bas de ton dos. Inutile de mentionner que Killer lui avait fracturé le bras sans ciller. Remarque, Kid aurait agit pire, le roux et toi étiez tout deux comme frère et sœur.

Ses doigts quittèrent tes épaules à contre cœur, tu le vis qui s'approchait de la grande bibliothèque qui occupait un des murs de la pièce. Killer aimait énormément lire, à vrai dire, il avait tellement de connaissances et il avait des livres de différentes origines. Tu étais toujours admirative devant son savoir.

Il revint et s'assit à côté de toi, entre ses mains, tu reconnus le livre « Mille et une nuit », la couverture était épaisse et ornementée d'un cadre doré. Tu souris avec excitation, Killer et toi aviez cette habitude ; à chaque fois que tu te sentais mal ou que tu n'arrivais pas à dormir, il te lisait des contes. Il t'en avait lu des dizaines maintenant ; Le petit Prince, Alice au pays des merveilles, les Contes d'Hoffman. Mais ton préféré restait toujours « Mille et une nuit ».

Ce livre représentait ton énamourement. A chaque fois que tu n'arrivais pas à dormir, tu rejoignais l'homme dans sa chambre et il te contait à la manière de Shéhérazade les contes étonnants. Avant même de t'en rendre compte, tu étais tombée sous son charme.

Il tapota ses genoux et tu posas ta tête là où il l'avait désigné. Sa voix te transportait vers les sables d'orient. Il y mettait tant de douceur. Ce moment intime était assez pour éradiquer tout tes ennuis. Sa main portait le livre, tandis que l'autre, caressait tour à tour tes cheveux et tes joues. Que tu étais chanceuse de l'avoir. Sa voix te racontait les aventures de Sindbad. Il avait acheté ce livre lors d'une escapade à Alabasta et était tombé sous le charme.

Lorsqu'il finit de lire le conte tu te relevas légèrement et tu te blottis dans ses bras. Il encercla ta taille des siens et vous restèrent un instant dans cette position.

-J'adore quand tu me racontes les aventures de Sindbad. J'ai l'impression d'accéder à un côté de toi que seul moi peut voir.

-Et c'est vrai. Tu es la seule qui veut entendre mes contes.

-C'est tout à ton honneur. Tu es un excellent conteur.

-Tu es une excellente audience. »

Il sourit derrière son masque et ne manqua pas d'en rougir. Il aimait comment tu t'intéressais à tout ce qu'il racontait et à tout ce qu'il aimait. Tu étais la seule personne au monde avec qui il partageait cela, avec qui il pouvait se permettre de partager cela. Le stress de la journée n'était plus qu'un vague souvenir. Une seule chose te manquait. Tu voulais plus de proximité. Tu voulais le voir et l'embrasser. Les aventures de Sindbad n'étaient pas assez.

«-Je veux te voir... »

Tu expires, ta voix n'était plus qu'un soupir, léger murmure qui le fit sourire derrière son masque. Sourire que tu ne vis pas mais que tu pus deviner. Tu n'avais plus à le voir, tu n'avais qu'à prêter attention à sa poitrine qui s'élevait au rythme de sa respiration. Tu savais maintenant déchiffrer chaque geste et la moindre variation de sa voix.

Tu le connaissais, vous vous connaissiez plus que personne mais tu en voulais toujours plus. Tu voulais qu'il s'offre entièrement à toi. Tu voulais qu'il mette à nu ses sentiments comme tu le faisais avec lui, parce qu'il était ta zone de confort et que tu voulais être la sienne.

Tu te redresses, tes doigts graciles viennent toucher du bout des doigts la surface dure du masque. Tu sens son souffle s'arrêter.

« Pour moi... » tu répètes, insistante. Ce n'était pas la première fois que tu le verras sans masque, mais pouvais-tu en être satisfaite ? Il le gardait même dans son sommeil. Tes doigts se perdent maintenant dans sa chevelure dorée.

« Pour toi. » Sa voix était ferme mais pénétrante. Venant de derrière le masque, elle était quelque peu voilée.

Une autre n'aurait pas pu deviner son trouble mais pour toi ? Tâche facile. Tu ne pus réprimer un sourire d'enfant auquel on promettait un morceau de sucre. Tu étais maintenant assise à côté de lui sur le sofa, les poignets sur tes hanches, le souffle coupé, les cils battant à peine.

Le masque reposait à présent sur l'accoudoir. Tu pus découvrir son visage parfaitement sculpté, ses lèvres violacées. Cachait-il son visage, comme Meduse ses yeux, de peur de te pétrifier ?

«- Killer...Tu es magnifique. »

Pas besoin de mots, un doigt vint se poser sur tes lèvres entrouvertes. Ton regard était assez, les mots parfois l'encombraient. Ses yeux azur brillaient derrière un rideau de cheveux dorés, ils étaient fuyants. Tu hésites, une seconde puis deux, avant de venir t'installer sur ses genoux. Il fut surpris par cette proximité mais elle ne le gêna pas puisqu'il vint poser ta main sur sa poitrine. Sa peau était brûlante, son cœur battait considérablement plus fort. Il ne le dit pas, ce geste signifiait « Je t'aime » et tu le savais.

«- Merci d'être là pour moi. »

Ton visage était à quelques centimètres du siens. Ses lèvres vinrent caresser les tiennes à peine, avant de t'embrasser pleinement tandis que sa main se posa sur sur ta nuque pour approfondir le baiser. Encore une fois, le geste parlait mieux que les mots. Je t'aime. Je te veux. Je veux que tu me donnes tout ton stress, toute ta peine, je veux la porter pour toi.

-(Y/N)...Un soupir...Je t'ai-

Soudain, la porte s'ouvrit en un fracas. Tu n'eus pas besoin de te retourner, tu savais, vous saviez de qui il s'agissait.

-Killer ! C'est quand qu'on mange je meu--...PUTAIN mais...

-Tu peux pas frapper à la porte pour une fois ?

Tu attrapas un coussin et tu le lanças en la direction de Kid qui se retournait déjà, gêné de vous avoir interrompu. Il disparut aussi rapidement qu'il n'était venu en prononçant une myriade d’obscénités.

Killer enfonça sa tête dans ton cou, gêné d'être découvert dans cette situation compromettante, quoique ça aurait pu être pire.

-Tu disais quoi, chéri ?

Il remit son masque tout en murmurant un « rien du tout ».

-Mais je jure que je t'ai entendu le dire ! Tu allais dire « Je t'aime », n'est-ce pas ? Tu le taquinais un peu trop pour son bien être.

-Si tu m'avais entendu, alors pourquoi demandes-tu ?

Il était extrêmement heureux d'avoir son masque sur le visage à cet instant précis.

-Parce que je veux l'entendre à nouveau. Si honnête, un peu trop pour son bien.

-Je t'aime.

-Qu-quoi ? Je n'étais pas préparée à ça ! Tu étais maintenant celle qui rougissait. Killer n'était pas du genre à exprimer ses sentiments tout le temps et ouvertement alors ça signifiait énormément à tes yeux.

« Trop mignonne. » C'était ce qu'il pensait de toi en ce moment. Il s'est levé tout en te gardant contre sa poitrine.

-Bon, je pense que Kid va vraiment causer un désastre s'il n'a pas à manger. Tu dois mourir de faim également. Tu ne voudrais pas me donner un coup de main en cuisine ?

-Bien sûr que oui. Mais tout d'abord...Est-ce que tu pourrais me poser à terre ?

-ça c'est hors de question. Il répondit simplement tout en te mettant sur son épaule et en se dirigeant vers la cuisine.

#Killer x reader #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagine #massacre soldier #one piece killer x reader

115 notes · View notes

newswcanonprompts · 4 years ago

Text

Children Fall AU

Padawan Anakin with a group of initiates all ‘Falling’ at the same time

Maybe a Gathering gone wrong or something. Everyone is captured. Pirates or bounty hunters or just awful people.

No knights or the knights are killed.

Anakin is trying to protect the younglings.

Sacrificing himself if he can.

Falls in the process.

The kids are too young. They're not supposed to be in the field yet. There's a reason you're supposed to be a certain age before field missions. Before being chosen as a Padawan.

They can't handle their emotions.

They try to save Anakin right back but Fall, too.

Maybe they get overwhelmed by Anakin's Falling, since he is a supernova? And their shields aren't enough to protect them?

They survive and everyone is dead or dying but Anakin stands among a group of children, all with eyes of gold and he doesn't know what to do.

I want there to be like a noble reason for it?

Maybe but that definitely doesn't help the situation.

Maybe he remembers the tales of the Sith and executions.

He takes the kids and runs.

He doesn't know what he'll do, he just wants to protect them.

Maybe he Falls because he can't defeat the pirates/bounty hunters otherwise

They are kids, they can't be that dark, could they Fall by a Coruscanti Jedi point of view? Not so much Dark as too much attached, multiple Force Bonds attached? The question is more along the lines of Anakin knowing that, though.

They are holding each other together so closely that they would break if you tried to separate them? The pieces make a coherent whole together, but otherwise they would just be broken?

What if the younglings fell first and Anakin fell so that they wouldn't be alone.

Like the idea that the younglings would be hunted or at the very least isolated and he couldn't let that happen (Bariss and Ahsoka could be part of that group, they are in the right age range, right?)

He promised to protect them and he kept them alive but ultimately failed in the way that matters most to the Jedi.

It also could be about healing and building far away from what you used to know and considered home.

So the situation is too much too soon and they all fall. And Anakin with his too big heart and shields that still don't block emotions as much as they should is overwhelmed and he could fight it but…

But these kids need him. They're scared and terrified and he knows that they aren't going to risk heading back to the Jedi, not with the horror stories told about Sith and Dark Side users.

He can't leave them. They need someone, anyone. Even if that's probably him.

You could have them pick up other Force Sensitives kids in bad situations as they flee and protect each other. Like a travelling clan of Forces Sensitives.

The use of the word clan makes me wonder if this version of Anakin would look into alternative Jedi philosophies, like Vizla.

And the Jedi mourning Anakin plus the Initiates because they think they're dead.

The Jedi eventually track down the pirates, but the base has so much blood and darkside surrounding it that they assume that the pirates were blindsided by a dark force user/sith and the children were taken. The Jedi finding the building and feeling the overwhelming about of dark side energy that was used there.

Privately the Council almost hope they're dead because they think that it would be a kinder fate than to be tortured and broken by the Sith.

Quinlan not being able to get a read on anything because it's so heavy with pain and dark side energy.

All he sees is gold eyes and screaming.

He doesn't notice that it's more than one pair. Doesn't realise that they're each filled with tears and oh so young.

Obi-Wan is convinced that Anakin is still alive because the bond didn't snap but it might as well have because it's never been so solidly closed to him.

Anakin was always leaking emotions and thoughts through the bond and now all that meets Obi-Wan is a durasteel wall.

Also, Anakin becoming a bounty hunter to make sure the kids get enough food

If he looks into the Mandalorian Jedi, as a way to teach the Fallen kids, he could become Mando and do the bounty hunting as a way to take care of them. Just an idea, though.

What if they all become bounty hunters and no one realises that they're Sith or Dark Side users? Until a fight ends in a helmet being knocked off.

I like the thought of the kids forming a new Order of nomadic Force Users, you could fit so much Force worldbuilding here as they figure things out away from Coruscant.

What if dar jettii Ani and his gaggle of kids has a run in with Jango Fett. Depends on canon or fanon interpretation really.

I would imagine that Jango would absolutely adopt this smol child (teenager) and his band of even more smol children.

Wouldn't that be hilarious? Jango with 8 new kids?

One sullen teenager that refuses to trust. And then he plops Boba in Anakin's arms and Anakin just freaking melts and it's all over from there.

So, this Jango has his hatred of Jedi balanced by his love of children?

Or is it part of his plan against the Jedi to encourage Force users to create an alternative that won't make the same mistakes the Jedi did that led to the slaughter of his people?

I don't know since Anakin & Co. here aren't exactly Jedi. Though I think this Jango would have his hatred of Jedi balanced by his love of his 8 foundlings.

Jango as the Mand'alor.

Anakin pitches a fit when he finds out about the clones and Jango doing right by them

And all eight new kids have lightsabers, but they're not Jedi, so..........Boba/Jango might get the Darksaber in this!!!

Anakin finds out that Vizla has a Jedi artifact and just gets it back.

Hands it to Jango: “Like what? You needed this, right?”

Jango is a tired new dad. So Anakin is just like running around doing whatever and causing his dad stress.

What if Jango adopted them and didn't tell them?

Like, he said the words and Anakin didn't understand. The others did too, because they had that class, but Anakin didn’t

I mean Anakin would jokingly call him "buir" or "dad" at one point or another and Anakin is like "why do you even care".

He gets it eventually.

When he sits the fuck down and stops running around trying to protect everyone and puts the time in to sort his shit.

Read: When Jango gets the kids to sit on him when he starts looking like complete shit.

Yeah, Jango absolutely enlists his siblings' fellow former-Jedi to get him to slow down and relax.

They have it out at some point that Jango adopted him probably when he's gotten himself injured and doesn't understand why Jango won't leave him

and Jango's like "You kriffing di'kut, you're my son" and Anakin's like "?!?!?!? What?!?!"

Anakin can speak several languages but not mandoa. Jango tries to teach him, but his accent is atrocious.

Anakin can understand Mando'a and he sometimes uses some words, but he can't speak it.

Plus, he sometimes crosses Mando'a with another language or several and it just becomes an incomprehensible mess unless you understand all the languages he's crossed Mando'a with.

how about Mando'a's too close to something else he knows.

He keeps getting it super confused with another language.

Like french and spanish, but there's no cross meanings, so it might sound the same, the meanings AREN'T.

At this point, everyone just goes "you need a translator droid if you want to speak with Anakin"

However, he will offhandedly speak in another language or start writing in one language and end in another no matter how fluent he is.

And his accent is still atrocious. The closest comparison is the bastard compromise between Texan and Yorkshire.

Anakin is that one person who will use words from whatever languages are the best to speak about any given subjects.

Or whichever language he associates with a given subject. That's why he learned how to speak binary in the first place.

Boba becomes fluent in binary before speaking fluently in Mando'a.

I wonder how the discovery of Kamino would pan out in this.

Anakin accidentally starts a clone rebellion, and oops, it looks like there might be a Revolution on Kamino.

Slave rebellions are always very very good.

Dex: Ah yes Kamino, or how the Mand’alor got his groove back. Outer Rim politics got wild a while back let’s just say. Long story short, the Mand'alor adopted eight new children, one of them pitched a fit about clones, and things devolved from there.”

The Clone Wars are going to be a wreck.

There’s an army missing!

Sheev running around his office like: “Now, where did I put that”

He is furious because there's an army missing, his future apprentice is missing, his future apprentice has a stable support system

basically, his plan just collapses.

Obi-Wan starts to cry because oh thank the fucking force they’re alive but Anakin and the kids misinterpret it.

Anakin's just like "I'm sorry, I wasn't going to let them be hurt anymore! I wasn't going to let anything else happen to them!" Obi-Wan: "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

325 notes · View notes

soobmint · 4 years ago

Text

sober thoughts | choi yeonjun [f] ; [s] friends to lovers! au, 2.05k words

s u m m a r y ; yeonjun has been your best friend for as long as the both of you can remember. he was there when you learned to tie your shoes, when you won your first spelling bee, when you had your first breakup, and when you graduated high school. now you’re both entering your first year of college—as the same old best friends, of course. the catch? yeonjun has conveniently forgotten to mention that he doesn’t quite see you as just a friend anymore.

n o t e ; my version of “suggestive” is still fluff, it’s just a tad more passionate than my normal stuff. i hope you enjoy this little musing of mine! it’s a very light-hearted oneshot that gave me so much joy while writing <3 (it’s almost too short for a oneshot, but definitely too long for a drabble, so i was a bit lost on what to categorize it as haha)

[back to masterlist]

CHOI YEONJUN WAS ALWAYS WAITING FOR YOU.

In elementary school, it was his job to wait for you every time you were running late, often forgetting to grab your backpack before you walked to school with him. He would wait beside of you on the sidewalk when you realized you had left your laces undone, or when he pointed out that your shoes were on the wrong feet.

As a middle schooler, he waited for you outside the orthodontist when you got your braces put on and during the countless checkups you had. And of course, he waited for you a few years later when you had both just entered high school as you got your braces removed. You had rushed out of the office right away, flashing him a big smile as you pointed to your teeth, chanting, “No more braces, Jun!”

When he saw your smile that day, he felt the butterflies for the first time.

Later that year, he waited for you when you were studying together for your first big test. You paced around the room, fretting and tugging at your hair as you complained about not having enough time to study, about the test being too big, about how you were certain you would fail. He waited until you paused for breath before he stood and took hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as he assured you that everything would be fine, that you were the smartest person he knew, so how could you fail?

When he gently held your hands and stared into your wide and sparkling eyes, his heart skipped a beat, and he knew that he liked you as more than a friend.

In your senior year of high school, he waited as you sat together at the bus stop one night, rain pouring down, your head on his shoulder as tears spilled down your cheeks, falling onto the fabric of his shirt, the denim of his jeans, the skin of his hand. He waited until you had finished telling him all about your first heartbreak. About how the boy who promised to give you the world instead caused it to fall to pieces around you, because you had been certain he was the love of your life, so how could he break your heart in such a terrible way?

He waited until your sobs had slowed to hiccups before he placed a finger under your chin and lifted your face towards his, bringing his hands to hold your cheeks so he could catch your tears with his thumbs.

When he saw your swollen face and felt you tremble from the heartache against his hands that night, he swore that he would do anything he could to restore the promises your jerk of an ex failed to keep. He would catch the very stars in his hands if that’s what it took to bring the light back into your eyes. He would do anything to see your smile, the same one that brought him those first butterflies all those years ago.

It was then that he knew he was helplessly in love with you.

But, as always, Yeonjun knew he would have to wait. He was certain that you did not love him as anything more than a friend.

If he planned to wait for your feelings to mirror his own, he figured he’d be waiting forever.

But what else was he to do?

YOU WERE LATE FOR MOVIE NIGHT, AND YEONJUN WAS GROWING ANXIOUS AS HE WAITED FOR YOU TO SHOW UP.

Since you had both started college together a month ago, you had agreed to make time once a week for movies on Friday nights at six o’clock. They were usually hosted at your house, but this week, Yeonjun had invited you to his apartment so he could show off his new T.V.

He had excitedly prepared your favorite drinks and your favorite movie snack—popcorn with M&Ms mixed in. He had to carefully pick out all of the red M&Ms by hand. It was an old habit; as kids, red dye had always made you exceptionally hyper. Whenever you ate M&Ms, he would pick out the red ones and eat them, leaving the rest for you. No matter how many times you told him that it didn’t effect you any longer, he refused to change his ways.

“After all that trouble, you’re not even going to show up?” He mumbled from where he sat upside down on the couch, his head on the floor, legs stuck straight up in the air. He glanced at his phone, pouting at the lack of a text or call from you. It was twenty minutes past six.

After a moment of debating, he decided to try calling you. He was shocked when you picked up right away.

“Jun!” You said cheerfully, the volume in your voice louder than he had expected.

He pulled the phone away from his ear with a grimace before answering with, “Where are you?”

“I was just about to call you! Some friends of mine dragged me to the bar, and I didn’t get a chance to tell you’d I’d be running a bit late,” you explained.

“The bar?” Yeonjun furrowed his brows, swinging his legs down so that he could sit up straight. You had a tendency to say—and do—odd things when you were under the influence, so you usually avoided drinking in public. He found it odd that you’d go out drinking so unexpectedly, and with such little resistance.

“Don’t worry! I’m on my way to your place right now,” you assured him. “Actually, I’m here now! Could you ring me in?”

“Mm,” Yeonjun hummed, standing to his feet as he ended the call. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling more nervous than he usually did at the thought of you coming over. In the past, whenever you were drunk and around him, you would get really close to him, touch his arm, lean in when you spoke to him, and hug him way more than usual. Of course, he didn’t mind these things. But he was afraid every time that he’d accidentally let his guard slip and end up telling you the secret that he’d been keeping from you for years; he was in love with you.

With a sigh, he buzzed you in, doing his best to steel his nerves before you walked in.

He was already back on the couch and turning the T.V. on when you burst through his door, slamming it shut behind you as you tore your shoes off and slid your feet into the pair of slippers you kept at his apartment. He glanced at you over his shoulder, unable to stop the grin that spread across his lips at the sight of you rushing about.

“Yeonjun!” You shouted, stumbling over your feet and nearly falling to the floor as you ran to the living room. You planted yourself firmly in front of him, blocking his view of the T.V.

“Hey, move over would you?” He griped, swatting at the air in front of you with his hand. “I’m trying to get the movie started.”

“I have something to say first.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, curiosity biting at the back of his mind. But, he remembered that you had been out drinking, and decided that anything you planned to tell him was probably a result of the alcohol in your bloodstream. Not wanting to put himself in a compromising situation, he shook his head quickly, pouting. “Just wait ‘til after the movie, alright? You’re already twenty minutes late, you’re lucky I didn’t start it without you—“

He stopped in the middle of his sentence when you tore the remote from his grasp, switched the power off, and threw it to the ground. He watched, slack-jawed and dumbfounded, as the remote slid off under the recliner on the other side of the room.

“What—what are you doing?” He asked. Slowly, he raised a finger at you. “This always happens when you drink. Next time, I’m not letting you in my house drunk—”

He was cut off once again, breath caught in his throat as you leaned forward, placing both hands against the back of the couch on either side of him. He leaned back right away, but even with his back pressed fully into the cushion behind him, your nose was brushing against his, lips a breath away.

“What are you doing?” He asked again, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Your eyes searched his for a moment.

And then, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

He gasped against your mouth, and he could have sworn that his heart went still before it began pounding against his chest at triple the normal rate. It was a moment that he had imagined for years; lying in his bed late at night, wondering what it would feel like to have your lips against his, the smell of your perfume encircling him, the feeling of having you so close to him, of your body moving closer, your lips growing insistent as they moved over his own.

But now that it was happening, it was all wrong.

It took everything within him to bring his hands up to your shoulders and gently push you back, breaking the kiss. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, something similar to the hurt he had seen after your first breakup present in your gaze. He glanced away, hands gripping the fabric of your shirt sleeves.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I thought—I just thought that you maybe felt the same way.”

“It’s not that,” He said quietly as he slowly brought his eyes back to meet yours, lips still tingling with the memory of your kiss. He glanced down at your lips, swallowing before he said, “You’re drunk.”

You furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not drunk.” You narrowed your eyes. “Are you drunk?”

He blinked once, then twice. “N-No? But you said you were out at the bar—”

“Yes, as the babysitter for my friends,” you finished for him, a smile breaking across your lips. “I drove all of them home before coming straight here. I didn’t have anything to drink, Jun.”

He was quiet and still as he tried to process what you had just said. In an instant he had leaned forward, his lips capturing yours in a swift kiss that caught you off guard and caused you to stumble back a bit.

He pulled away quickly, swiping his thumb across his lips as the gears began to turn like crazy in his mind.

He tasted no alcohol when he kissed you. Only the overpowering flavor of the cheap mint toothpaste that you always used.

That meant you had been sober the whole time.

That meant you had wanted to kiss him.

In a flash, his hands were on the sides of your face, his lips covering yours in another kiss as he stood to his feet, bringing you up with him. His kiss was desperate, his lips moving against yours feverishly, trying to make up for all the years they had spent waiting to touch yours. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to walk forward, hands pressing you up against him as he backed you up.

He moved forward, lips never leaving yours, until your back met the wall behind you. His hands traveled up your sides as he moved to kiss the corners of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw. He exhaled against your neck when your hands moved to his hair, tangling in the long threads and pulling on them gently. He placed his arms against the wall on either side of your face, caging you in as he moved his lips back up to yours, catching your bottom lip in his teeth.

He kissed you with all the passion and adoration he had been harboring for so long. After all those years of hoping and dreaming, of wishing and wondering, he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Because Choi Yeonjun no longer had to wait for you, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment ever again.

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun au #yeonjun suggestive #txt oneshots #txt #tomorrow x together #txt drabbles #txt au #friends to lovers #oneshots #college au #kpop oneshots #soobmint

623 notes · View notes

lunar-jimin · 4 years ago

Text

i can be temptation, you can be my sin

Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes

Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna for @ficswithluv‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude. She’s the best!

| m.list |

“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“

“Bright and comforting?”

“-awful.”

His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.

“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”

“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.

You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.

Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.

With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.

A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.

In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.

An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?

While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.

Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.

When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.

The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33

You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.

You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.

When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.

“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:

He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.

“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”

He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.

Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.

You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.

The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.

“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”

You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.

“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”

You want to scream.

“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”

You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.

Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.

Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.

“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”

He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.

“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”

Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.

As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.

You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.

“Doll? Are you in there?”

Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.

“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.

He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, baby.”

You pull away to look at his eyes.

“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”

“They loved it.”

“What?”

“They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”

You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.

“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.

For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.

“Well, then…”

You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.

“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.

“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”

“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”

This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.

“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”

He looks genuinely confused at your statement.

“How could I possibly hurt you?”

“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”

“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.

“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”

Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.

“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”

Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.

“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”

Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.

“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”

Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.

“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”

You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”

He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”

He grabbed a rough handful.

“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”

“Okay, daddy.” You whine.

“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes, daddy.”

The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.

“O-one.”

The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.

The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.

“Two.”

By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.

Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.

“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”

Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”

You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Your fingers, daddy, please.”

In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.

“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”

“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”

He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, daddy, right there.”

He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.

“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”

“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.

Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.

After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.

You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.

You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.

As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.

“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.

“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”

“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.

“I can be yours.”

You pause at the door.

“What?”

“I could be your boyfriend.”

“I-“

“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.

“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”

His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”

You grin.

“Okay.”

“Coffee on Saturday?”

“Sounds great.”

#changeswithluv #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #fanfic #one-shot #smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #fluff #angst

390 notes · View notes

rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years ago

Note

First of all, I want to tell you that you're absolutely amazing and that I love everything you write!! Okay about my request I was thinking about Harry's younger sister x Draco!! I had this idea in my head for days and I'm dying to read something like that! Maybe a no Voldy AU where H and D still have their 'rivalry' and then D falls for his sister ofc. They have a secret relationship and to add a little bit of ✨spice✨ Harry finds them in a ... compromising situation... AND WHEN JAMES FINDS OUT

First off: I absolutely LOVE THIS CONCEPT. I haven’t even begun this request yet and I’m already thinking of James dialogue. Second off: You guys are all so sweet omfg I might actually cry.

Note: This ended up A LOT LONGER than I anticipated. Hope you guys like it.

Harry. That was your damn brother alright. He was older than you by one YEAR. And my God did that point come up ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME. It definitely didn’t help when it came to the fact that Harry became a seeker in his first year, making him the golden child of Gryffindor. You were honestly kind of thankful you were a Hufflepuff because sharing a common room with your brother would’ve actually made you murder someone. You were a little bit of a loner though, only keeping close to your friend Cedric. Lily told you that she was a little bit of a loner too growing up and then she met your dad James. Here’s the thing though: At least she didn’t have to grow up being overshadowed by an older brother. You didn’t hate your brother. You just hated the environment around your brother. As in: You hated that everyone seemed to focus solely on your brother. To be honest, Harry hated it too. You were talented in so many things and Harry could recognize his achievements overshadowed yours. You kind of lucked out on the big brother front though: At least you weren’t related to an asshole. Harry did care about you and supported you. Sometimes (especially during Quidditch season, when he usually became a bigger spectacle) he’d hide out in the Hufflepuff common room. But he usually refrained from doing that. Because that increased the possibility in running into Draco Malfoy. Harry made this fun little nickname for him. “The Crown Prince of Douchebag, long may he reign” Harry would always say making you laugh. Your dad didn’t seem too keen on Lucius Malfoy either. Your mother though, wasn’t vocal on disliking anyone in the Malfoy family. Lily always did have a way of seeing the best in people. Even your strange professor Snape. Your Uncle Sirius seemed ready to kick Draco’s ass anytime Harry complained about him. The thing you always noticed when talking about Draco though is that no one ever called him “Draco.” it was always “Malfoy”

You never had any interactions with the boy until your third year. Hermione insisted you study for the upcoming exams. You almost didn’t but when you passed the library her voice kept sounding off in your head and you sighed before walking in. You sat at a table, noticing the place was beginning to fill up with students, all of them most likely prepping for the same exams you were. You were reading intently before you heard someone clear their throat. The silver blonde hair immediately made you recognize the boy. “Can I help you Draco?” You asked. He showed a small reaction to hearing his first name being used rather than his last. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” He asked. You nodded and he sat down. You didn’t say anything to him for a good long while, even though you could feel him staring. You finally looked up “Can I help you Draco?” You asked. There it was again. His name. “Aren’t you one of the Potters’?” He asked. You frowned. “My legacy is not determined by my brothers, if you’re going to refer to me you will do it by my name.” You said sternly making him surprised. Not only did you call him by his first name but you showed zero fear in speaking with him. Interesting indeed. “...No offense but... What is your name?” He asked. You started to understand why Harry had such a strong disliking for this guy. “Y/n. My name is Y/n.” You said sharply. He opened his mouth but someone sitting next to you made him go completely silent. “Hey Cedric.” You said. “Hey. Do you have your potions notes with you?” He asked. You pulled out your notes and you went back to reading. Draco didn’t get up for a while. Not until after you left.

From that point on he began to notice you more. Were you always in three of his classes? You definitely showed an aptitude for taking care of magical creatures after seeing you in Hagrid’s course and witnessing the way Fang was with you. You never seemed to pay anyone else any mind though. You always kept to yourself, very rarely interacting with other students. Sure, Draco would see Cedric near you. But you didn’t really interact with anyone else. Fred and George would make themselves present near you, usually to check on you and see how you were doing. That let Draco know that you did have people active in your life. He noticed your presence was very rare in quidditch though, usually only when Hufflepuff played. But if that was against Gryffindor then you’d be absent then too. Draco was smart. He knew exactly why you never showed up. Harry God damn Potter. You never went because of your brother. Sure, yes: You made it clear by being seen with Harry that you cared about your brother. But you actually didn’t participate in any activities around a lot of people when it came to your brother. Cedric? Sure. He noticed you present for Cedric winning a Quidditch match and celebrating. Harry? No. You weren’t there. Harry didn’t seemed bothered by this set up though. Draco was curious. He HAD to know why.

Another opportunity came when Draco’s dumbass walked right up to Buckbeak. Of course Buckbeak nearly attacked him but you intervened, forcing the creature to look at you. “BUCKBEAK.EYES ON ME NOW!” You shouted. The creature merely glanced at you before getting ready to attack. You snapped your fingers though and he finally cut his attention to you. You blocked any view of Draco from Buckbeak, calming it down. Draco was mesmerized by your ability. Course the dumbass did actually fall and scrape his arm. “Christ you’re an idiot.” You sighed helping him to his feet. Draco frowned. “Sorry. That thing almost attacks me and I’m the idiot?” Draco asked. “You’re the jackass that ran up to a creature you knew next to nothing about, that is also in a foreign environment might I add, and expected it to act the way you wanted. Yes Draco. I’d say by this point you’re the village idiot.” You said making Harry snort. James. That was ALL James and if your dad could see you right now he’d be pissing himself of laughter. “Come on.” You sighed walking. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?” Draco asked. “You scraped your arm you git. I’m walking you there. Come. on.” You said sternly. Draco grumbled the entire time walking. “I swear I’m beginning to really understand my brother when it comes to you.” You sighed. “Excuse me?” Draco asked. “Surprised my brother talks about you?” You asked. “No I’m surprised you actually mentioned your brother with how little you choose to interact with him.” Draco said. You stopped walking, glaring at Draco. “I don’t know what you think you know Draco, but that’s not true.” You snapped. “Really? Because from where I’m standing you barely interact with him and you got offended by association!” Draco pointed out. “Do you have any idea what it is like to have to live in your sibling’s shadow Draco!? I don’t interact with him here because everything I do here is compared to what he can do.” You snapped, clearly very pissed with Draco. “Actually I do know what that’s like, but it’s not a sibling” he admitted. “Who, pray tell, do you live in the shadow of?” You asked, clearly annoyed. “My father.” he said with a sigh. Oh. Oh shit that actually was a reliable answer. “Yeah. It doesn’t feel great does it asshole?” You asked sharply. “No. Which is why I can’t seem to hate you.” Draco said making you halt again. “...What?” You asked. “You always call me by my first name. Never the last. At first I figured you did it because you liked to annoy the shit out of me. Now I think you do it because you know what it’s like to live behind a strong name defined by someone else.” Draco explained. You hated that the explanation made sense. Why couldn’t he be an idiot? It’s so much easier to hate an idiot. You walked into the medical wing and bandaged him yourself. You were used to having to do this to Harry after quidditch games that backfired.

Draco watched you carefully. “I don’t hate you.” You muttered. “Hmm?” Draco asked. “I don’t hate you. And that pisses me off. Because I want to hate you.” You muttered. “I’d love to hate you too, but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.” Draco shared your sentiment, making you crack a smile. That smile was so... pretty. “you’re good now.” You sighed, finishing the bandage. “You’re good at this.” He said looking at your handiwork. “Harry injures himself all the time. You should’ve seen mum when when he broke his arm playing quidditch. She looked ready to kill someone.” You chuckled. You and Draco exchanged a look. One of mutual understanding. You held out your hand. “I vote that we become friends.” You said. He rose a brow looking at you and then your hand. “...Call me paranoid because of Fred and George. But if this is a prank I will hex you.” he said. You snorted. “I’m not one for pranks.” You shrugged. Draco shook your hand and you smiled. “See you around.” You said walking away, saluting him as you did. You made him chuckle at that.

The Hogsmeade trip finally approached and you were excited. Sirius was meeting up with you and Harry along with Remus and Peter. You ran into the three broomsticks with a smile. “Uncle Moony!” You said excitedly, hugging him. He chuckled and hugged you back. “Hi Songbird, goodness you’re growing!” He said. Draco was sitting in a booth, reading when he noticed you. “No hugs for me. I’m hurt, saddened. Shocked.” Sirius said dramatically making you snort and hug him. You hugged Peter too and sat down with Harry. You and Remus were close, along with Peter. Don’t get me wrong. Sirius and you were close. But not as close as Remus. “How’s school going?” Remus asked. “Meh. Boring. I swear if Granger tells me to study one more time I might actually fight her.” You groaned making Peter laugh. “You have James’ spark I’ll give you that.” Peter said. “Make any new friends?” Remus asked making Draco listen. “Uhhh... Just one.” You said. “Well, come on now who is it?” Sirius asked. “I’m not saying anything in front of you or Harry.” You said with a laugh. Remus leaned in so you could whisper. You told him and Remus rose a brow. “Come on Moony who is it, I’m dyin’ here.” Sirius said. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Can’t say.” Remus said, doing the “Scout’s honor” salute. “Even I don’t know this one.. Oh God it’s not Moaning Myrtle is it?” Harry whined. “No! Harry I have standards.” You said making the table laugh. “Is it someone I know?” Harry asked. “Not saying.” You said simply. “Uncle Moony at least drop a hint.” Harry said. “Nope.” He said, taking a long sip of butterbeer. You and Remus exchanged knowing glances and smiled. He handed you a book and you chuckled. “Thanks Uncle Moony.” You said, him hugging you. “I should go, Cedric is waiting.” You said. “Have fun Songbird.” Peter said making you chuckle. “Thanks Uncle Wormtail.” You said walking towards the exit. You noticed Draco looking at you and you gave him a smile. He felt.. Warm seeing that. You walked outside seeing Cedric with Cho. “Best not interrupt them.” You mumbled. You weren’t bothered being on your own, you actually didn’t mind it. But someone caught up to you making you jump. “Gah! Jesus Draco, say something before just sprinting next to me.” You gasped. “Sorry.” He laughed. “Who were those men in there?” He asked. “My uncles.” You said walking. “Why’d they call you Songbird?” Draco asked. “Were you eavesdropping?” You asked. “No, I just happened to notice it on your way out.” He lied. “Hmm. According to Uncle Remus I can sing. So they just call me songbird because of that.” You shrugged. “Ah... Were you talking about me earlier?” He asked. You stopped. “You were totally eavesdropping, you little shit!” You said. “Little shi-- I’m older than you!” Draco said making you laugh. “How’s Captain Pain in the ass?” You suggested. “God no!” Draco said making you laugh harder. Draco noticed that smug little smirk and decided to throw a snowball at you. “Oh you little--” You threw one at him making him laugh before you threw another one. You two fought on for a while until you tired yourselves out. But that smile just... God Draco’s heart seemed to hammer against his chest when he saw it.

You and Draco were a little on the secretive side of your friendship. Not because he was ashamed to have you as a friend. God no. But your brother was now watching you like a fucking hawk to see who this “New friend” was. Thank God he took after James and was completely clueless to who you spent time with. Well. Until Cedric answered that burning question. “Who do you think she hangs out with?” Harry asked Ron. “I dunno. I don’t really see her much.” Ron shrugged. “Draco.” Cedric answered. “Hmm?” Harry asked turning to Cedric. “She’s been hanging around Draco, last I saw.” Cedric answered making Hermione drop her spoon, Ron nearly choke, Fred and George both exchanging looks of “OH. SHIT.” Harry’s eye seemed to twitch at hearing this and it soon became obvious why Harry didn’t know. Harry got up, walking to the Hufflepuff common room and finding you reading on the couch. “Malfoy!?” Harry asked. You looked up confused. “What now?” You asked expecting to hear about some argument the two boys had. “You’ve been making friends. With Malfoy!?” Harry asked. Shit. “Uhh... No?” You lied. Harry shot you a glare. “Okay fine! But in my defense, I want to hate him. But once you get to know the guy he’s not that bad!” You said. “Christ, Y/n.” Harry said. “You’re lucky I won’t tell mom!” He sighed. “She already knows Harry.” You said. “So you told everyone but me?” He asked. “Do you see the way you’re reacting right now!? Excuse me if I wanted to AVOID this!” You snapped. “Malfoy--” “His name is Draco! For God’s sake Harry just GET TO KNOW HIM!” You snapped. Harry had never seen you this aggravated with him. “Fine! Fine. If it means that much to you I’ll try.” Harry said.

Instead Harry avoided that kid like the plague. Draco laid off the snide comments and snarky remarks because he knew you’d yell at him later if he said anything unwarranted. Harry didn’t want to run into the guy because he didn’t want to have to be nice. Quite frankly, Harry didn’t want anything to do with him. When the summer approached you were not hearing the end of this “Malfoy? Really?” thing. Remus and Peter was your escape and you were grateful for that. Honestly it reminded them of Snape and Lily. Except less dramatic. Hopefully. “I just don’t get it. Harry doesn’t even try with Draco.” You sighed, throwing a ball and catching it as you laid on the couch. “He gets it from James.” Peter said. “This is all just... It sucks y’know?” You said, unaware that Harry was listening from the kitchen. “I finally make a friend and my brother hates him.” You sighed. “All that matters is your opinion of Draco Songbird. Harry might come around eventually.” Remus assured. You smiled at your uncle. “Mum teach you to be this insightful?” You asked. “Life taught me that... And yes Lily did too.” Remus chuckled.

Lily didn’t have a problem with the friendship. James was of course worried because his baby girl was making friends now with mainly guys. Oh God he was not ready for this year. You rode with Draco on the train. When he saw you he nearly died internally. Your hair was longer, you were taller... Oh God this was a crush wasn’t it!? NO. NO NO NO NO NO-- “Draco? Are you alright, you seemed spaced out.” You asked. “Hmm? Oh I’m fine.” he said. FUCK. FUCKING-- FUUUUUUUUU-- “I heard from dad there’s something weird going on this year.” You said pondering. “Oh. You mean the tournament.” He said. “How did you know?” you asked. “Father works with the ministry division that works with the school.” Draco answered. “Ohhh.” you nodded. Sure enough the boy was right. The cup was introduced. The rules were a little bit odd but you met all the requirements to participate. Sooooo... Why the fuck not? You signed a parchment, stuck it in the cup and it was accepted. Your mindset was “Well plenty of more qualified students are signing up, I’ll be fine.” Well... There was a problem. The Goblet of Fire goes off at random, not by who’s more qualified. So your name DID get chosen making Harry and Draco both FLIP THEIR SHIT. Both boys were well aware of how brutal this competition could be. News got back to Lily and James and they were equally panicked.

Cedric however had FULL confidence you could do this. He trained you, making sure you were physically and mentally prepared for everything. It felt weird being the only third year in the room but you didn’t have a problem with it. Harry was practically begging you to drop the competition. “Harry! For God’s sake, just SHUT UP!” You finally snapped. He blinked, as did a few students hearing this. “I watch you play quidditch and you get hurt all the time, you do not hear me throwing a bitch fit over this! The only thing I need right now is your support!” You snapped. Harry didn’t argue either. Draco was supportive over you being in this but he was definitely nervous. “And you’re sure... This is what you want?” Draco asked. “I’m sure.” You nodded as you geared up for the first trial. “Okay... I’ll be in the stands... If you need me just... say something.” He said. You nodded giving him a small smile.

You thought everyone was being a bit ridiculous... Until you found out the first trial. “Oh no.” You muttered watching Krum run for dear life across the field. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned. “Dad!” You breathed before hugging him. Lily, Remus, Peter and Sirius all stood there. “Alright. You’ve got this Darling don’t worry!” James said, eyes twitching as he was clearly worrying. Draco ran in. “Draco?” You asked. “Which dragon did you draw?” Draco asked. “Uhm. The Hungarian Ridgeback.” You said. “...Shit.” Draco muttered. “Guys. I’m fine. Really.” You assured. Why in the hell were you so confident. Draco looked into your eyes and you felt your heart pound. Lily noticed the look and rose a brow. “Promise me you’ll play this safe.” Draco said. “Draco--” “Promise me. Please.” He said, looking at you and putting a hand on your shoulder. His feelings towards you were quite obvious to everyone... Except James. “I promise.” You said softly. “Y/n. You’re up.” Viktor said. You held Draco’s hand for a second before cracking your knuckles. You walked out, the arena being loud as hell. How in the world did Viktor deal with this for a living. Harry ran into the tent, noticing his family watching as well... And Draco. You seemed to be completely calm, despite having seen Krum nearly roasted. The Dragon thrashed against it’s chains and Lily swallowed her anxiety. You did something strange. You... Sat down. “What the fuck is she doing!?” James screeched. “Hi.” You said to the dragon. It roared in your face, blowing your braid so it was off your shoulder. You maintained eye contact with it though. How in the hell were you calm-- You didn’t even flinch when this thing roared at you. You stood up, the dragon retreating back before you held out your hand. It snarled making Remus uneasy, but you kept the same calm expression. It sniffed you, before you lightly pressed your hand to it’s snout and smiled. “see. I’m not so bad.” You said softly. Everyone was wide eyed. “I need the egg.” You said looking at the golden egg. It let out a huff but you kept eye contact as you grabbed the egg. It tried to follow but you halted the creature with your hand. “Stay.” You said softly. It did. You walked back out of the arena leaving everyone shocked. Did a fourth year just... TAME A FUCKING DRAGON?

You walked back to the tent and Lily hugged you, “You did so well-- Oh honey!” She said. “Well done Y/n!” Sirius laughed, clapping his hand onto your back. “I’m proud of you.” Harry said as he roughed up your hair, making you laugh and swat his hand away. You looked at Draco and he said nothing, pulling you into a hug. You dropped the egg, hugging him back. James nearly went “PROTECTIVE DAD MODE” On this kid’s ass but Sirius halted him along with Lily halting Harry. “When were you going to tell me you could tame dragons?” Draco laughed making you smile. You pulled away and chuckled. “I just remembered Hagrid rambling on about dragons and I went with what he told me” You admitted. Draco shook his head with a laugh and cleared his throat after noticing all of your family staring at him. “Uh... Hi?” He waved. “Uncle Moony, this is the friend.” You said. Remus smiled and held out his hand, Draco shaking it. “Pleasure.” Remus said. James’ eye was still twitching as Draco sat with you through the rest of the trial. Harry was too. Like father, like son. “Can I punch a kid? Is that illegal?” James whispered to Lily. “Yes James it is. It’s called assaulting a minor. And he seems perfectly fine.” Lily hushed him. James pouted and Harry kept watching you two.

The next few days were spent trying to figure out what the fuck the egg actually was supposed to do. “What the hell is this even for?” Draco asked, looking at it as it sat on the coffee table in the Hufflepuff common room. “Have you opened it?” Harry asked. “Yes. It screams.” You said. “Charming.” Hermione said sarcastically. “It makes me want to drown the damn.... Wait a minute!” You gasped. “What?” Draco asked. “What if I put it underwater to quiet the noise?” you asked. “Why would you want to do that?” Ron asked. “It clearly makes noise for a reason dipshit.” Fred said, smacking Ron upside the head, understanding your logic. You sprinted off to the baths, doing just that. You listened to it’s riddle, coming back up for air and raising a brow. “Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground ,And while you're searching, ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss, An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took. But past an hour - the prospect's black Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.” it sang. “What the absolute fuck does that mean?” you pondered aloud. You walked back to the common room, hair still wet. “Any ideas?” George asked. “Well I was right. It gave me a riddle.” You muttered pondering. “Where our voices... sound-- Are there any mermaids on campus?” You asked. “...What?” Fred asked. “In the lake, I think.” Hermione answered. “That’s where the next trial is.” You said, snapping your fingers. “Damn that was quick!” George laughed. “Sure you’re not a lost Ravenclaw?” Fred asked. You sat next to Draco and chuckled. Your eyes were gorgeous when the fire from the fireplace reflected off of them. “I should get some rest. Tell Dad about the competition.” You yawned, leaving. Draco got up. “Sit.” Harry said as everyone else cleared out. Draco frowned. “I’m not going to just--” “I need to talk to you, sit.” Harry said. He finally sighed, sitting down. “I know you like my sister.” Harry said. “...What--” “Don’t play dumb, even my dad can see that you do.” Harry said. Draco looked at Harry. “Let me guess: You don’t want me anywhere near her right?” Draco asked. “Preferably: Yes. But Y/n likes having you around so I will say this...” Harry leaned forward, his eyes piercing through Draco. “If you hurt my sister I will kill you. Am I understood?” Harry snapped. “....Okay.” Draco nodded. “You can go.” He sighed, turning back to the fire. Draco got up and stopped for a moment. “I would never hurt her Potter. She means too much to me to ever do that.” Draco said before leaving.

The next trial of course had to be on a day where it was FUCKING COLD. Your family all stood outside with everyone else. You looked around noticing Draco’s absence. “Where’s Draco?” you asked. “Mcgonagall asked him to come with her this morning. Haven’t seen him since.�� Goyle answered. “Hermione isn’t here either.” Ron noticed. You frowned, remembering the riddle. “Oh no.” You said. “What?” Sirius asked. “I think I know what this trial is.” You said looking at the lake. You pulled your hair back and Cedric handed you something. “You’ve got this.” He said. You cracked a smile, looking at the item. It was going to help you breathe underwater. You took it, waiting for the sound off. It finally rang out and you dived in, swimming through the murky water. You had an hour. You used your wand to provide light, swimming through the lake before you finally found it. They seriously chained students to the bottom of a lake? What the fuck was this competition? You unlocked the chains, gripping Draco’s arm before swimming back. Viktor popped out of the water first, Hermione with him. You popped out, water dripping from you. Draco shivered from the cold water and chuckled. “When Mcgonagall said I was needed for your trial, this is not what I expected.” He said, making you laugh. Fleur came back empty handed. “I couldn’t... She- she’s still down there!” She wailed. You frowned looking at the clock and then the lake. You knew who was Fleur’s challenge was. And that was a child. You shoved off your towel and jumped back in, making everyone run back to the edge.

“What happened!?” Lily asked Draco. “I don’t know-- She just jumped back in!” He gaped. The clock’s loud ticks did not make the waiting any less anxiety wracking. Remus was staring intently, Sirius gearing up to jump in after you before you finally reemerged with Gabrielle. Draco helped you out and you pulled your hair tie off, your hair falling to your shoulders. Fleur hugged you, thanking you for saving her sister. “My kids are awesome.” James said hugging you and Harry both. You shivered and Draco lifted his arm as to say “Get under here” You did, panting out of breath. The last three minutes of you being in the water were you having to hold your breath because the item wore off. “I’m proud of you Y/n...” Draco said, making you look at him with a smile. His eyes wandered to your lips and you both seemed to be looking at each other. That’s finally when James grasped the situation. Oh no. OH HELL NO. “Lily. That boy likes Y/n doesn’t he?” James asked. “It took you this long?”

You were quickly becoming aware of that damn school dance, as many students were asking others to go with each other in front of you. You were a sappy romantic, sure. But if you saw one more kid with a fucking ukulele or guitar you were prepared to kick someone’s ass. You sat in the dance class, loathing every moment of being there. You definitely had James’ left feet, because you could NOT dance. “Choose your partners.” She instructed. You sighed and Draco extended his hand. “I can’t dance so if I step on you, this is your fault.” You said making Draco laugh. You stood with your hand on Draco’s shoulder and his around your waist. Your face was probably pink from the feel of things. “You can move closer Y/n, I don’t bite.” He teased. You blushed, moving slightly closer and he walked you through it. “How do you know how to do this?” You asked curiously. “My family throws parties where we have to dance. It’s terrible.” He explained. “Sounds like its something out of Pride and Prejudice.” you said. “Hmm?” he asked. “Muggle book that goes over old English customs.” You shrugged. “Ah.” He nodded. “So the Yule ball is coming up.” Draco said, clearing his throat. “Yep. I’m aware.” You muttered. “Not excited?” He asked. “No I am but I’m beginning to despise the ukulele and guitar after this week.” You admitted making him chuckle. “The younger students have... Gotten creative.” He nodded. “Alright Grandpa, calm down.” You teased making him roll his eyes. “I was wondering.” Draco started before twirling you. You did, your back against his chest. “Would you like to go with me?” He asked in your ear. Thank Merlin’s grey ass beard that your face was turned away from Draco. “Y-yeah... S-sure.” You stuttered out. He twirled you back around and you were so red that if you weren’t moving right now, he would’ve thought you were dying.

You went back to the common room, pacing. Do you talk to your mom? No. She’d tell dad and then you’d have to deal with a potential murder. Who could you trust? Then an idea hit you. Next week was Hogsmeade. Remus! Well and Sirius. You loved Remus to death but he did not have that much experience in this area like Sirius did. So you wrote to them and of course they agreed to meet up with you. You went to the Three Broomsticks, sitting at the table as the two men sat down. “What’s wrong Songbird?” Remus asked. “W-well.” You sighed. “Oh... Do you need a pad?” Sirius asked. “What!? No!” You said. “Thank God. I am not ready for that conversation.” Sirius said. Remus smacked Sirius with a book, turning back to you. “What’s going on?” Remus asked. “I... I’ve been asked to go to the Yule ball.” You admitted. Sirius gaped with a smile. “who’s the lucky guuyyyy-- Or girl, I don’t judge.” Sirius asked. “Draco.” You answered. “Ohhhh.” Sirius nodded. “I don’t know what I’m doing guys. I’m freaking out here.” you whined. “Calm down. So he asked you?” Remus asked. “Yeah.” you nodded. “Well then what’s the problem?” Sirius asked. “What do I even say!? OR DO!?” You asked, panic clearly in your eyes. “Shit. Uhhhhhh. Well, the best advice I can give is don’t use too much tongue--” Remus, again slammed his book against Sirius’ head. “Keep doing what you’re doing now and go with the flow. You don’t want interactions with him to seem forced.” Remus said. “Thanks... And.. I hate that I’m asking this but what if he does kiss me?” You asked. Remus sighed and looked at Sirius. “I’m scared of that damn book.” Sirius said looking at Remus’ hand which was resting on top of the book. “Look. The best thing I can tell you is this: If he does kiss you, just go with the flow like Remus says. Unless you don’t want him to kiss you. Then you kick him in the dick and run.” Sirius said. “No hit for that last comment?” You asked Remus. “He’s right.” Remus nodded.

So there you were. The night of the Yule. Christ could you stop shaking!? You asked Cedric to walk you down the stairs because you had like, zero confidence walking by yourself in heels. “I am going to kill you Draco.” Harry muttered. “I am just taking your sister to a dance Potter, I’m not Fred here and being a playboy.” Draco said. “Hey-- wait no. No that’s fair.” Fred nodded before you walked down. Draco’s eyes went huge, lips parting as he saw you. “Thanks Cedric.” You said. “Anytime. Have fun!” Cedric said walking off with Cho. Harry’s eye twitched and George dragged him off, leaving you with Draco. “Shall we?” You asked nervously. Draco nodded and you took his arm, walking and standing ready with the other champions. “You look beautiful Y/n.” Draco said making you smile. “You’re not so bad yourself Draco.” You chuckled. You’ve been hanging out with Sirius for WAY too long. The doors opened and your grip tightened. “You’ve got this Y/n.” He said in your ear. “Not if you keep whispering in my ear I don’t.” You muttered. “Hmm?” “Nothing!” You lied. You two did that ridiculous dance, you dreading every second of it. But the music finally slowed down and you sighed with relief. You and Draco swayed to the music and you smiled. “Hectic year.” You said. “I bet it has been for you. Though, being held hostage by mermaids didn’t exactly make my year normal.” He replied making you chuckle. “I think it’s been a good year for us though.” He added. “What do you mean?” You asked. “We’ve gotten a lot closer, haven’t we?” He said. “Y-yeah.” You nodded. Form proper words Y/n, Christ. “And... I’d like us to be.. Closer if that’s alright with you?” He said. Fuck. Words can’t even form now. “Y/n?” He asked. “Like.. Dating?” You asked. “Only if you want to.” He nodded. Where was the holy spirit of Sirius’ dating life now!? “I’d like that.” You said with a small smile. His lips seemed to hover over yours, you now being able to feel his breath. You could feel Harry drilling holes into Draco with his eyes. “Uhm... Should I be concerned that Fred is holding back Harry?” Draco noticed. “Very.” You nodded. “Uhm... Wanna get out of here?” He asked. “Yep.” You nodded.

The two of you walked around campus, the winter air hitting you hard. You shivered and Draco took off his jacket wrapping it around you. You smiled and he slid his hand into yours. “So your parents seem nice.” Draco said as you walked. “Wellll... To be honest dad is more of a jackass. Harry takes after him.” You said, earning a laugh from Draco. “And your mother?” He asked. “Calm. But definitely murders people in her mind.” You answered. He laughed again. “What about you?” You asked. “Hmm.” He pondered. “My mother is very... Patient. She’s nice.” He said. “And your father?” You asked. “Stern. But I know he loves me. If that makes sense.” He answered. “It does.” You nodded. Draco smiled at you and brushed a hair from the side of your face. You smiled at him and he slipped his fingers under your chin, kissing you. Soft. His lips were soft...

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” You heard. “Fuck.” You sighed followed by rapid footsteps. “I AM GOING TO KILL--” you clothesline Harry as he sprinted towards Draco. “Wow.” Draco gaped. “I have uncles.” you shrugged. “Give this a rest Harry. This is just sad.” You sighed, helping him up. Harry’s nose started bleeding and Draco sighed. “I’ll take him to the medical wing.” Draco said. “Your jacket--” “Keep it. I’ll get it from you later.” he said with a smile. “I am so kicking your ass.” Harry grumbled, holding his nose. Draco walked the idiot down the hall and you turned to go back to the Hufflepuff common room before feeling someone tap you. You turned and Draco kissed you again smiling against your lips before finally dragging your dumbass brother away.

“You did not just kiss my sister in front of me, you fucking prick.” Harry said holding his nose. “Hey, I’m not the one who got clotheslined by her.” Draco reminded. “I didn’t expect her to do that.” Harry winced. “Yeah trust me, neither did I.” Draco snorted. “I wasn’t lying Draco. You hurt her--” “I’m not going to Harry, I swear.” Draco said. Madame Pomfrey rose a brow. “Did you two fight again?” She asked. “No, this was my sister.” Harry said, removing his hand. She winced at the sight. “Tell your sister she did a good job.” She said before Draco walked away. “Promise me that you’re not going to break her heart.” Harry said making him stop. “What?” Draco asked. “Promise me you’re not going to break her heart.” Harry repeated. “Harry. I swear it. Do you want me to make a blood pact or something?” Draco asked. “...Is that an option?” Harry asked making Draco roll his eyes and walk away.

The last trial finally approached. You were kind of anxious about it too. Draco however was confident you had the damn thing in the bag. “You tamed a Dragon Y/n. Whatever this next trial is, you’ve got it in the bag.” Draco said. James finally came with the rest of the family. “You ready?” Sirius asked. “Hell no.” You breathed. Viktor walked over, along with Fleur. You let out a shaking breath.. “We just wanted to say... What ever happens... Good luck.” Viktor said. “T-thanks.” You said. “Champions, approach the start!” The announcer yelled. You sucked in a breath and walked forward. You halted and turned back around, kissed Draco before leaving the Viktor and Fleur. Remus, Sirius and Peter hid smiles but Lily, again was having to hold back her idiot husband and son from killing the poor kid. “JUST ONE PUNCH--” “I’M WITH YOU HARRY!” James screeched.

The challenge began and you booked it, sprinting as fast as humanly possible through the maze. Find that damn cup. You took so many twists and turns, stopping for a brief moment to try to figure out where you were. Then you noticed that the maze was pulling you to the wall. “OH FUCK NO” was the only thing Viktor heard before rapid footsteps and you booking it as the maze walls were closing. You sprinted, Viktor right next to you as you ran. He went left you went right. Ironically, right was the right way considering you found the cup. You sprinted and gripped its handle before you seemed to float.

Your body hit the ground hard and you coughed. “God I’m so feeling that in the morning.” You groaned before getting up. You brushed yourself off unaware to the crowd that was about to scream in celebration of your victory. Well, until you heard “THAT’S MY NIECE MOTHERFUCKERS!” Followed by “SIRIUS!” and a loud smack. You gaped and looked at the cup and then the crowd as they all screamed in victory, Dumbledore holding your hand high before your family sprinted out. “I knew you could do it!” Draco said with a smile you hugging him as the crowd cheered. You panted, looking at Draco as your arms were around him and he kissed you. James didn’t even care by this point because damn it: You did it! Holy shit! You let go of Draco and he smiled before Sirius lifted you onto his shoulders. “THAT’S MY GIRL! WOOOOOOOOHHH” Sirius screamed making you laugh.

You all celebrated that night, sitting in the Great Hall with the cup. “So what are you doing with the victory money?” Sirius asked. You pondered. “Hmm... Hey, Fred, George?” You called. “Hmm?” Fred asked. “How’s business?” you asked, confusing the group more as you spoke. Did... you not hear the question orrr- “It’s going good, we’re beginning to need more room for the equipment though.” George answered. “Great.” You smacked the check down. “Buy a building.” Was all you said before getting up. The two boys looked at each other and then you. “Are you serious right now?!” Fred asked. “I don’t need it. Take it.” You said walking away. Lily snorted and James nearly pissed himself laughing. “She’s definitely James’ kid.” Peter laughed. Remus noticed one thing no one else did. Draco left with you. He smiled to himself and laughed at a joke one of the kids made.

You stood in the library looking at the genres. Of course your way of celebrating would be to read. You read a few passages before feeling arms wrap around your waist. You smiled, turning in Draco’s arms to face the boy. “Hi.” You said with a smile. “Hi.” He said. You smiled as he kissed you, sinking into his arms. “I really am proud of you, by the way.” He said after pulling away for air. You chuckled. You kissed his nose and he chuckled, kissing your forehead. “AAaanndd Got ya.” Sirius said making you sigh. “Padfoot. Five more minutes.” You whined. “I believe that is how long it took to conceive your brother.” Sirius said making you gag. “Okay! Moment ruined, I’m leaving.” You said walking away. “Works every time.” Sirius said. Draco smiled, watching you jump on Remus’ back. “She really is something isn’t she?” Sirius said, a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He smiled to himself as you laughed at your dad nearly screaming at the bloody baron popping out of the wall.

“She really is”

#draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n

279 notes · View notes

kariachi · 2 years ago

Text

Me: *gets sudden scene for the pre-Osmobeast au story* *writes*

The question popped into my head of ‘when does Gar start wondering about shit’ so...

Things actually went okay for a while. Shipments came in and were delivered. Commissions were completed and paid for. The heroes had proved Kevin’s caution extraneous, which was really the best anyone could hope for. By all evidence Garfield really did just like looking around the place, and Koriand’r was more than happy to come around as often as they could stock things from her homeworld.

She didn’t tend to need to though. Garfield had developed a habit of coming in once every week, every other week, about that. It’d been a source of stress at first, until Argit had convinced him to always come on the same day of the week. He’d claimed it was their slowest, one and since the place was so small him coming to chat and meander around was easiest on everyone that way. Definitely. One hundred percent. And it’d worked, they just had to keep the other side of business to the other six days a week, perfect compromise.

Until some dumbass newbie with her head up her ass decided not to stick to schedule.

Still, it was fine. Leave Argit and his cooler head in the back to handle her, while Kevin stayed up front, all smiles and charm to continue chatting with their established guest. It had all worked out fine, Garfield was none the wiser, business still got done, everything well, good, and

And there’d been a crash in the backroom. A muffled voice that was very much not Argit’s. Garfield and Kevin both had tensed at the counter, but only Kevin felt the bolt of aggravation shoot down his spine. He took the urge to bare his teeth and shoved it down into his gut, throwing on a concerned expression instead.

“One second,” he said, patting Garfield’s arm companionably and not waiting for a response before he slipped into the back.

The door clicked shut behind him as he took in the scene. Argit, ears back and quills raised. The newbie, standing there like she was somebody important. His latest project in pieces on the floor. Himself, unable to start taking heads off without causing a Situation. Kevin rolled over like a thundercloud, a tight grip on his powers to stop the lights flickering in the building.

“Seriously,” he asked, keeping his voice low, “we’ve got a fucking hero out front!”

“Girlie thinks she gets to haggle,” Argit answered similarly before she could open her mouth. For the love of- And of course if the lot of them got found out he’d be the one fighting the damn hero. Bunch of motherfucking-

“She gets to get the fuck out my store before I turn her into a pair of boots,” he growled, glaring at her and flashing long Ossy teeth that seemed to get the situation through to her, “while you call Maddie and let her know her little recruit is causing problems. She wants payment she can send somebody capable, but I damn well expect a discount for the trouble.” With a nasty smile, Argit nodded and began waving off the little Hell Kitten.

“Sure thing, Ravrsa. You heard the man- out, before you start wishing you just had to deal with Maddie…”

The girl clearly wasn’t happy about it, but she was also clearly green, easily intimidated by Kevin’s size and teeth. It was only when she was heading out that he turned around, pulling himself back together before slipping through the dividing door again with an apologetic smile. Garfield’s nose was crinkled, eyes narrowed, frowning in concern and curiosity.

“Sorry about that.”

“Is everything alright,” he asked. “What happened?” Kevin tutted exaggeratedly and shook his head.

“We were cat-sitting this past week,” he explained away, “Jess dropped the carrier picking her up is all. It’s all good.”

“Uh-huh.. You’re sure?” Garfield’s expression didn’t much change and it raised Kevin’s hackles.

“Yeah, some people just too clumsy for pets,” he chuckled, flashing a smile, and pulled up the first distraction that came to mind, rounding the counter. “By the way, remembered, we got some music in our latest delivery if you wanna take a look?” To his concern there was no indication Garfield believed the excuses, but he relaxed a bit, lips twisting back up into one of those pretty smiles, and let the matter drop.

“Sure, what sort’ve music are you talking?”

It would have to do.

“I may have overemphasized the stuff I’m into in this order so, fingers crossed you like Redfire and Avereia of Jeirni-”

#fanfic #unfortunately i was not able to fit in a line at the start #mentioning that gar *has* made a move by this point but unfortunately #argit 'i am tired of trying to put this man back together' levin intervened

2 notes · View notes

randomhl-vraifam · 4 years ago

Text

So if you haven't seen @gryphsdeadbones and his incredible Gordon Cubed AU... go check it out, please. It's literally so fucking good, and you can read the comic @gordoncubed.

I asked if I could write something for this AU, and got the go ahead, so here we are! It was inspired by this ask and this ask, just in case anyone needs context for what's happening.

Anyway, uh... yeah. Here's a thing.

If you had told Gordon Freeman that, somewhere in the universe, there existed multiple versions of himself, each from very different dimensions, he might have actually believed you. He was a theoretical physicist, after all. The unknown and hypothetical was kind of his area of expertise.

However, if you had told him that his alternates were… like this? That he might have had a hard time believing. He was absolutely blown away by how much those two could talk. They did it constantly! Freeman wasn’t sure if they knew how to not talk. He considered, more than once, finding tape in one of the abandoned offices and sealing both their mouths shut.

He thought he’d be relieved if either of them decided to shut up.

Until one of them did.

Feetman (he still didn’t know what was up with that name) had been dangerously close to dying. Not that any of them were exactly safe from dying, but Feetman had ended up being a little closer to death than Freeman wanted to think about. He found himself wishing Feetman would talk more. If only to ensure that he was still conscious.

And he found himself wishing Freemind would talk less. A lot less.

It was almost as though the man felt the need to talk through the silence Feetman wasn’t filling. And he did so. Very obnoxiously. Normally, Freeman would tell him to knock off his shit, but he had a feeling that Freemind was just as nervous as he was, and the only outlet he had was talking. Freeman let it slide.

If you asked Freemind, he’d tell you that he gave absolutely no fucks about Feetman. He didn’t give a fuck about either of these idiots, aside from the fact that they were somewhat useful in getting through this hellhole. Except one of them was now considerably less useful.

Not only was Feetman less useful, he was a hindrance. Freemind didn’t like slow progress. He liked efficiency. He liked getting shit done. Dragging Feetman’s dumb ass around was not effecient and it wasn’t getting shit done. The guy seemed like he was almost always on the verge of collapsing.

So if he suggested that Feetman sit the fuck down, it was for the sake of making sure the idiot didn’t pass out and further impede their progress. Not because it bothered him to see the guy struggling to stand up straight. Because he didn’t give a fuck.

It’d gotten better after a couple of days, but only by a narrow margin. They weren’t having to stop as often, but Freeman was still adamant that Feetman not take any shifts on night watch, which Freemind found annoying as hell. He kept that opinion to himself, though. The silent member of the trio didn’t seem willing to compromise on the matter, and Freemind wasn’t willing to try and make him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off about it. Freeman could see Freemind getting more and more agitated. He snapped more often, and in more hurtful ways. There were only so many times Freeman could tell him to shut up, eventually Freemind got around to talking again.

Freeman didn’t mind stopping for Feetman when he needed it. More often than not, Freeman would have to put a hand on his left shoulder to stop him, to make him take a break. Every time, Feetman would say that he could keep going, even if he was on the verge of falling over. He hadn’t needed to stop during his first run, he’d insist, he didn’t need to stop now.

So when Feetman hesitantly grabbed his arm, Freeman stopped, immediately worried that his counterpart needed him for balance.

“Hey, uh…” Feetman looked at him blearily behind bent frames. Freeman was sure all of their glasses were damaged at this point. His own lenses were cracked. “Can we- I hate to ask, but…” He trailed off, seeming to lose his train of thought.

Freeman steadied Gordon with one hand, then quickly signed, “Do you need to stop?”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah, I think- should probably… yeah. Gordon, uh, hurt.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you serious?” Freemind groaned, clearly in one of his more irritable moods. “We’re never gonna get anywhere like this!”

Deciding to ignore Freemind, Freeman ushered their limbless counterpart to a nearby room. This wasn’t a part of Black Mesa he’d frequented, so he wasn’t exactly sure what the room was for. Peeking inside, it looked like a lab of sorts. The broken bunsen burners were a pretty good indication that this particular lab had worked with chemicals.

The room looked safe enough to hunker down for a few minutes, and he needed to check on Feetman’s arm. Probably wouldn’t hurt to check under Freemind’s eyepatch, too. He was fairly certain no one had been in there aside from a couple of aliens, considering none of the lights were on, and the cabinets that might have contained anything useful were closed.

Downside, there was probably gonna be a lot of chemical spills. Upside, there was probably a medical kit.

Feetman stopped before going in. “Why are the lights out in there?”

Freeman heard Freemind scoff behind him, but he flicked the light switch, and Feetman relaxed considerably. Freemind grew increasingly agitated as Freeman searched the room for a medical kit. “Why the fuck are you babying him? We need to move!”

Freeman pulled the lab’s medkit off the wall, tempted to throw it at Freemind, but restrained himself. “Let me see your eye.”

“Nah,” Freemind said. “I’m all good. Not gonna bitch about a stupid injury like some people.”

“Fuck you, man,” Feetman muttered. He winced as Freeman started pulling off his bandages, and waved off the signed apology.

Freemind snorted. “Yeah, no thanks.” He kicked at a pile of broken glass that had most likely been a beaker at some point. “If he’s gonna be fucking useless or whatever, then the two of us should scope the area. Make sure there’s nothing around.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, exactly, but Feetman immediately froze at the suggestion. “Uh- I don’t…” Freeman raised an eyebrow, but continued to change the bandages on what was left of his arm. He had a feeling that Feetman didn’t want to be by himself for any extended period of time. Couldn’t blame him, really.

“What?” Freemind snapped, “Gonna bitch about being alone, too?” Feetman averted his gaze, which was all the confirmation Freemind needed to know that he was right. “What are you, six? Man up.”

Freeman shot him a glare. “Go by yourself.”

Freemind scowled. “Are you stupid? I’m missing an eye! Can’t see shit coming from my left.”

“Then stay in here and stop complaining,” Freeman signed. Freemind wasn’t sure how he managed such a clipped, irritated tone with his hands, but the mute managed. He might have been something close to impressed if he wasn’t so pissed off.

“Fine,” Freemind spat. “Whatever. Don’t listen to the smartest person on the team.”

Feetman’s face scrunched in thought. “Aren’t we… like, the same person?”

“No. Because I’m better.” Freemind leaned against the wall. “Honestly, you guys are so lucky to have me around. You’d probably both be dead if I wasn’t here.” Freeman had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Something to say?”

Freeman, of course, said nothing. Freemind couldn’t decide if he could take the silence as a win or not. He couldn’t argue with someone that wouldn’t--or couldn’t--talk back, and he couldn’t win an argument they weren’t having. How was he supposed to prove he was better if Freeman wasn’t even giving him the option?

So Freemind, bored and irritated, did the only thing he could think to do: push every button until something happened. “How long are you gonna play nursemaid? I’ve got better things to do than waste away in this hellhole.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to go home, man,” Feetman said. “You’re just the only one complaining about it all the time.”

Freeman suppressed a laugh as he finished wrapping Feetman’s arm. He could see Freemind getting huffy in his peripheral, but paid it no mind. The guy had largely been all bark and no bite during this whole ordeal, although Freeman didn’t doubt the guy had started a few fights in his time. He’d probably start one now if it weren’t for the fact that they needed each other for survival.

Freemind wasn’t all bad (it was pretty damn close to all, though). Freeman had seen the softer side of him, hidden under about a million layers of a complex superiority/inferiority complex. He’d tried toughing it out the first day after he’d lost his left eye, but by the second day he was hovering closer to Freeman and Feetman.

He had called it a strategic advantage. They could see, he could not. If he had one of them on his left, they’d be his lookout, or a sufficient meat-shield. Whichever the situation called for.

Neither of them missed the way he’d occasionally reach out to tap an arm. Or the way he’d intentionally bump a shoulder and then angrily insist that they had been in the way. They didn’t say anything about it, though. Freemind would only be an even bigger pain in the ass if they pointed it out.

Freeman was less pissed that Freemind was protecting his dignity, and more pissed that he wasn’t offering Feetman the same courtesy of not mentioning his weakness. Then again, Freemind was probably too insecure to admit he cared.

“Well, at least I’m not scared of the fucking dark,” Freemind said triumphantly. “I’ve seen you clingin’ to Freeman over there whenever the lights get dim.”

Feetman rolled his eyes, “Oh, yeah. Like you haven’t been clinging to both of us the past couple of days.”

Freemind’s face reddened. In embarrassment or anger, Freeman couldn’t be sure. “Are you calling me a coward?”

“No, but…” Feetman chuckled under his breath, quietly singing, “You are a pirate.”

“Bold words coming from the cripple of the group,” Freemind seethed. “Are we ready to go or not? I’m tired of waiting around for you fucking idiots.”

Freeman snapped the medkit closed and signed, “Then go.” Freemind glared, but didn’t move. A testament to how much he actually relied on their presence.

It was a liability. One that Freemind hated himself for having. Being dependent on people wasn’t exactly his style. Yet here he was, unable to leave this stupid room because he couldn’t leave without these two idiots. Well, he could, but he wasn’t going to.

After a few more minutes of Freeman fussing over Feetman’s missing arm, Feetman claimed that he was ready to go. Freemind thought it was about fucking time, but Freeman didn’t seem so sure.

Freemind couldn’t figure out why Freeman was being such a mother hen about all this. Usually it was Feetman doing that, which made sense, considering they guy had a kid. Freemind thought he’d be glad to have Feetman off his back about his eye and everything else, but Freeman was almost worse. At least Feetman listened somewhat, even if it was just to bicker with him. Freeman would just tell him to shut up.

He ducked out of the room while Freeman and Feetman continued a mostly one-way conversation. Ironically enough, it was Freeman doing most of the talking. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We can stay a few more minutes, if you need to.”

“I said I’m fine, man,” Feetman said. “Or- well… as ‘fine’ as I’m gonna get.” He glanced out to the hallway. “Think his eye is okay?”

Freeman shrugged. “He’ll start complaining when he wants someone to look at it.”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah… alright. Guess we better get moving before he-”

“Will you two hurry the fuck up!” Freemind shouted from the hallway. “You morons are slower than my dead grandmother!”

A cheerful smile overtook Feetman’s face, taking Freeman by surprise. “Gordon,” he said happily, “I crave violence!”

The moment was gone before Freeman could question it. He’d learned to stop asking about Feetman’s little outbursts. They were his friends, supposedly. Something about his first run? Freeman didn’t know. And there was no telling what might trigger it, so Freeman mostly relied on context.

Like now, for instance. Even if the smile was cheerful, the words suggested Feetman was about two seconds from strangling Freemind with his remaining hand. So Freeman decided it’d probably be best to keep the two separate. At least until they both calmed down a little.

Freemind noticed Freeman’s efforts to keep them separated. He decided against pushing any more buttons, since Feetman seemed capable of talking back, despite his injury. And, honestly, how dare he talk back to a god like Freemind?

Really, he didn’t understand why Feetman was getting so worked up about everything damn thing. Freemind himself hated being a liability, so why was Feetman so insistent on being one all the fucking time? It was infuriating. Feetman should be just as on guard as he was, not overreacting about a dark room. They didn’t have time for him to be scared of every damn thing.

None of them liked the dark. So why was Feetman being such a bitch about it?

Freeman suddenly waved a hand to get his attention. “Storage area.”

Freemind grinned. “Nice! Might find some guns in there.”

“Or supplies,” Feetman added.

“Whatever,” Freemind dismissed, already shoving past him to take a look around the storage room.

Unfortunately, it looked pretty ransacked already, but the three men spread out to search through the splintered crates. Well, Freemind and Freeman did anyway. Feetman just seemed to be smashing them, for some reason. He stopped after a couple of minutes and frowned. “Why am I smashing crates?”

Freemind’s face twisted in confusion. This guy might actually be losing it. “Are you brain dead or something?” Feetman blinked at him. “Know what? Fuck it. Never mind.” Freeman was better at dealing with whatever that issue was. Apparently, Feetman’s… ‘friends’... really liked smashing crates.

The dude was seriously fucked up. Not just his arm, either.

He wasn’t finding anything useful, and was about to see if Freeman had found anything, when the lights suddenly flickered. “What the-” ‘fuck’ didn’t get a chance to leave his mouth before the room went completely dark.

For a moment, he thought he’d lost his other eye. A spike of panic tore through him at the thought of being totally blind during an alien invasion, but then remembered that he’d seen the lights flicker. It was just a power outage. His eye was fine.

“Um… guys?” Feetman called out. “Where- you guys still in here?”

Freemind started to answer back, ‘Yes, dumbass, of course we’re still here,’ but he stopped himself. Feetman needed to stop being a bitch about the dark, and here was the perfect opportunity for some exposure therapy. And if Freemind didn’t say anything, then Feetman would have to get over his thing about being alone, too.

It was two birds with one stone. If Feetman could handle being alone, in the dark, until the backup generator for this area kicked on, then everything else would be a cakewalk by comparison. Without Feetman bitching all the time, they could get out faster.

Genius plan. Foolproof. God, he was so fucking smart. And the best part was, Freeman couldn’t even ruin it. The guy didn’t talk, and his sign language was useless in the dark.

“Freeman?” Feetman tried again. “Did- did you guys leave?” Perfect. Feetman thought he was alone. Now all he had to do was stay calm and- “This isn’t funny, guys!”

Freemind raised an eyebrow, kind of a useless gesture in the dark, but it felt necessary. This wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was supposed to be productive. It was a solution to a problem. Freemind was fixing the problem. All Feetman had to do was stay calm. How difficult could it be?

He bit back a curse as he heard footsteps to his left. Freeman was trying to find Feetman! That would ruin this whole thing! Did Freeman not understand what he was trying to do here? No, of course he didn’t. Why would he? He was an idiot, just like everyone else.

“Who is that?” Feetman asked in a wavering voice. “What are you doing?!” The footsteps stopped. Freemind smiled, glad that his plan was back on track, but frowned again when he heard the unmistakable sound of the HEV suit hitting something. The wall? The floor? Did Feetman trip over something? What a goddamn moron.

Feetman had indeed hit the floor, tripping over a demolished crate in his attempt to back away from whoever was moving towards him.

Freemind wasn’t answering him. He couldn’t see Freeman. Did something happen to them? Were they okay? Was this another ambush? Did the other two set this up? They couldn’t have. Could they? Would they? He’d been betrayed by people he trusted before...

The darkness closed in on him more and more with every terrified thought that ran through his head. His arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which was entirely too fast and he couldn’t make it stop. He wanted to call out again, for Freeman or Freemind or anyone, but his throat closed up with panic before he could. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was dying. Maybe he was dying.

Freeman heard Feetman’s choked off gasp, and started moving again. He knew the approaching footsteps were going to freak Feetman out, but he needed to make sure his counterpart wasn’t injured. His eyes were starting to adjust a bit, letting him make out the barest outline of the boxes closest to him so he could move around them, but finding Feetman was an entirely different challenge.

Finally, he could see the vague shape of Feetman, on his knees and curled in on himself. He hoped the lights came back on soon. Because once he helped Feetman, he had a universal sign for Freemind that relied heavily on his middle finger. Was this his idea of a joke?

Feetman was hyperventilating, mumbling incoherently as Freeman slowly knelt down next to him. He tapped the floor lightly in hopes that Feetman would understand that this was a friend. Not an alien or a soldier, not a threat. But Feetman didn’t seem to register it, if anything, he only seemed to panic more.

After a few seconds of Freeman trying desperately to come up with a solution, the fluorescent lights whirred back to life. Freemind was standing on the other side of the room, looking almost annoyed at the situation. Then he saw Feetman collapsed on the ground, and his expression softened into something resembling concern.

“Whoa, the fuck?” He made his way over to his two alternates, wondering where the hell his plan went wrong. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

Freeman sliced a hand across his throat, the unofficial sign for ‘cut that shit out’, then signed, “Help him.”

Freemind suddenly felt very out of his element. How the fuck was he supposed to help? “Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat nervously.

Nervously? Since when did he get nervous?

Maybe since he’d unintentionally plunged someone into a panic attack.

Shut up, he scolded himself. He was Gordon ‘Freemind’ Freeman. He didn’t make mistakes. He just… miscalculated. A little. Not enough to count as a failure.

“Listen, just- just calm down, it’s… the lights are back on, okay? You can stop freaking out.” There. Facts. Feetman hated the dark, and now there was no more dark.

“Shut up,” Feetman said in a strangled voice. “Sh-shut the fuck up.”

Hm. Okay. That was bad, Freemind was pretty sure. “Okay, well, I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do here, so I’m just gonna keep talking.” Feetman shook his head. “Yeah, I am. Because you’re so stuck in your own stupid brain that-” Freeman nudged him. “What?”

“Just talk,” Freeman signed angrily. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Freemind huffed. “Listen, I didn’t… I didn’t know the dark was gonna fuck with you that bad. I thought you’d, like, get over it. Which you didn’t. And that’s bullshit, but whatever. Next time I won’t do that.”

Feetman tensed. “Next time?” He asked frantically, “What- there’s gonna be a next time? I can’t-”

“What? No!” Freemind exclaimed. “That’s not what I meant, you- fuck.” He looked to Freeman for help. “Any other great ideas?”

Freeman didn’t know. On reflex, he reached out to put a hand on Feetman’s arm. Of the three of them, Feetman was probably the most touch-oriented. He knew his mistake as soon as his hand grazed the HEV suit, Feetman immediately recoiling, eyes wide with fear .

“Get away from me!” Freeman started to pull back, realizing too late that this was the wrong arm to touch in the moment. But before he could apologize, pain exploded across the right side of his face. He could see Feetman scrambling backwards through the stars in his eyes. Feetman really packed a punch.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Freemind yelled. “Why’d you do that, Freeman was trying to help, dumbass!”

He shook his head to get Freemind’s attention. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have scared him.” He should have known better. He should have made sure Feetman was okay first. He refused to blame Feetman for lashing out during such a vulnerable moment.

The panicked haze in Freeman’s eyes cleared a bit. “F- fuck, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Freeman shook his head, assuring Feetman that he was fine. “What happened? You… the lights went out and I couldn’t- you weren’t…”

Freeman glanced at Freemind, having more or less the same question. “Why didn’t you say anything when the lights went out?”

Freemind at least had the decency to look… guilty? The expression was so foreign on Freemind’s face that Freeman almost didn’t recognize it. “I was- I had this plan.” He stopped like he expected to be interrupted, then continued when he realized that Freeman and Feetman were still listening, “I thought you were kinda overreacting about the dark and shit. So I was trying to help you, like, get over yourself. And that didn’t, uh… that didn’t work.”

Feetman wheezed. “You- you’re an idiot.” He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Why the fuck did you think that would work? That’s the stupidest-”

“Shut up.”

“-thing I have ever heard in my-”

“Feetman, so help me god, I will turn these lights back off.”

“-entire fucking life,” Feetman finished. Freemind grumbled, but otherwise held his tongue. Feetman then turned to Freeman and winced. “Jesus, man, your face. I’m real sorry about that.”

Freeman shrugged. “I’ve had worse. It was my fault, anyway.” Feetman didn’t look convinced, biting his lip and holding his right arm tight to his chest. He figured now was probably a better time to ask, “Do you want a hug?”

“No,” Feetman said. Then, after a moment, “Maybe… yeah.” He glanced at Freemind. “As long as the resident pirate isn’t gonna be a dick about it.”

Freemind narrowed his eye. “Shut up.” But despite the venom in his voice, he leaned against Feetman’s left side. “Don’t say another word.”

Freeman slung an arm around Feetman, giving him a reassuring squeeze that neither of them could feel, but it was the thought that counted. Feetman almost immediately relaxed into the embrace, quietly muttering a word Freeman didn’t recognize, “Pog.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Freemind asked. “No, actually, I don’t care. I hate it. Don’t ever say that again.”

Feetman laughed again, lightly bickering with Freemind until all three of them were ready to go. There wasn’t much they could salvage in the storage area, unfortunately, but hopefully they’d find something later.

Freemind didn’t make another comment about Feetman’s fear of being alone or in the dark. If you asked him, he’d say that Feetman bitching about the dark was marginally more productive than him being collapsed on the floor. Again, it was all just survival.

And if anyone said that they saw him quietly talking to Feetman at night, distracting him from the dark and the pain in his arm until he fell asleep, that person was a goddamn liar.

#hlvrai #hlvrai au #gordon cubed #gordon freemanverse #i'm so sorry if this story sucks #it was literally just supposed to be the scene in the storage area #but i'm a dumbass and now there's this #gryph i'm sorry about my dumb bitch disease i promise it's not contagious

137 notes · View notes

matchamorphosis · 4 years ago

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || ari punishes you for being a brat during your date out at the summer carnival

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || pure filth, smut with some fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || modern AU agent!ari levinson × [black//woc]!reader + crossover!ransom drysdale

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 4K ⟶ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw daddy!kink, age gape: reader is twenty one and ari is thirty five (don’t like, don’t read), heavy language, dirty talk, punishment: overstimulation, eating out, blowjob + spanking mention, movie crossover! + you might get a cavity just from reading this

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || melting by kali uchis ♡ angel by kali uchis ♡ honey baby (SPOILED!) by kali uchis

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || this was initially for @jtargaryen18’s writing challenge #30DaysofChris but i took a long break in the middle of writing it, sorry for the long wait lovely! ♡ this took less time to edit and write than i thought and believed but i hope you guys enjoy it just as much! ♡ reminder : italic means flashback, bold italics means thoughts/exaggerated dialogue, and non-italic/bold means present!

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

my storybook ღ join my taglist

BABY THIS IS A WONDERLAND

when your tongue licks the bittersweet honey glaze of my pussy lips, where my sinfully divine bubblegum dreams collapse with your good boy deeds but you just keep licking my core desperate. ‘cause baby the milk that leaks from the honey hive in between my thighs is like a strawberry cone to you- and your going to lick me up before I melt under your hot gaze.

"Ari," your meek whimper spills but he keeps licking.

as if he's trying to break the dam that'll give him the strawberry milk that will quench his undying thirst. you’re stuck in this pleasurable killing punishment, if only you knew to stop when you were told to. listen to the voice in your head to stop acting like rotten spoiled brat and you’d have the pleasure to grind your honey slicked cunt against his bearded face.

if only you listened...

"behave," Ari growled into your ear.

the single command is enough for you to roll your eyes and stick your tongue out up at him and so you do. of course Ari is used to seeing this brat but he was sure that with a glare or two you’d clean your act up but you’re still continuing your rotten attitude.

no, you don't want to fucking behave.

subtly walking away from him to the cotton candy vendor, the sound of the man pouring the sugar into the spiraling machine is music to your ears. a glare marks your sharp roseate lined eyes and a pout pulls at your glossed lips, all focused away from Ari but he still sees your rage.

it really wasn’t fair how he expected himself to go on this carnival date with you but not do the one thing that made you want to go. all that adding on that he expects you to behave and not be upset, it wasn’t for and you weren’t planning on calming down.

not even a little tiny bit, cause you want to go into the tunnel of love with him. all the small promises and little compromises made throughout the day as you and him walked and played the colorful tent games did he promise you that you and him would ride.

Ari knew how much this meant to you, you always wanted a special someone to sit besides the romantic boat ride with ever since you were a small girl.

it was his fault that he fell in love with a hopeless romantic, someone yearning to allow themselves be enveloped within the arms of their lover. feel their warmth as the red violet lights start to dim, kiss your lovers lips when you two meet the darkness. giggle when he confesses his sweet darling thoughts of you, you were a romantic for gods sake.

you wanted it so bad, yet every time you seem to mention it Ari deflects the topic with something else. another question or comment or confront your claim in the most abrupt yet sweet way possible.

“not now sweetheart, later maybe-”

“babydoll, do we really have to go in there?”

“it’s to much of a risk for daddy, honey bear!”

he would sweeten those claims up with kisses that would butter your mouth like the popcorn he hand fed you. it was tiring Ari out with your demands to ride The Tunnel of Love but now as he stand there witnessing his precious apple dumpling turn into a rather rotten and bratty apple he may fully turn down the conversation.

on top of that your pink and white gingham sundress displays a bit too much cleavage and leg for Ari’s liking. well he doesn’t like the dress, he loves it but he wouldn’t want you going out displaying it for everyone to see besides him. the nymphet styled cloth you walk so confidently may or may not have half the boys and men eyeing you everywhere you go.

this scene, the boys and grown men undressing you with their list filled hues and eye fucking you with every step your platforms take does make Ari want to snap at them. wonder if their mothers taught them better than to gawk, glare at the silly pubescent boys until they run away shitless. maybe intervene with the lustful stares of the men with a double fist threat.

it doesn’t ease the fire behind his eyes and the clenched fist he has when he’s noticing your smirk- the pounce in your stride that you seem to enjoy the attention.

the very way you bend down near the mirrors of a souvenir cart to re-apply the amber peach lipgloss to your lips is almost intentionally teasing for both Ari and anyone else watching. the way you glance at him through it, lashes batting and your glimmer hint hues screaming fuck me

he now knows this is all part of your game of acting up, you think you can get what you want from disrespecting his order and authority. it was so cute to him how you thought you could get away with your spoiled behavior.

sooner then later Ari is going to bend you over and teach you a lesson on teasing him in public.

the taste of strawberry cotton candy and buttery popcorn is still fresh and lingering in your mouth but you want to taste your juices on his candy red tongue.

"Ari," you carp, his tongue just keeps lapping up at your labia. unbothered and unfazed as hair spills over his forehead, he doesn’t care for he smiles when your plush thighs cage his face.

the continuous strokes of his talented tongue make your pussy flutter and spine shiver. wishing he’d push a fingers or two, god those thick fingers could undo any orgasm from you in matter of seconds. the thought makes a little drool seep from the corners to your mouth and you hug the large blue raspberry bunny Ari won for you closer to your chest. smelling the fruity scent as you whimpered when he bit at your cunt and kissed it better.

you’ve kept the fluffy berry scented stuffie close when Ari striked your ass cheeks earlier wit the same hands that keep your thighs gaped now. allowed you to have that dear comfort as he took on punishing you with his rough spanks.

the burning hand prints are probably visible now just as the wet tears around your eyes. the same streams that stained your peachy cheeks have dried but it wasn’t just your teasing that brought you up in your well deserved punishment.

no, you were in much deeper trouble than for that…

after your little tease show Ari figured to let you have your way, for now. it was always best for him to let you have your way since you were generally upset about not riding on the Tunnel of Love.

now, the golden rays of the sun setting radiated your glowing figure, hand with Ari’s the other holds your frosty pink cotton candy as you take the last bites of it. glancing up at Ari, you see the almost finished chocolate sprinkle swirled ice cream cone in his hand being treated with long slow licks.

attention going from the melting cone to his tongue you can’t help but want it.

want his hot tongue on you, in you.

you want it so so bad that you’re caught off guard when he smirks, not looking at you at all but feeling your stare. he feels your needy wants, knows the devious perverted thoughts going on in your pretty head and its all a dead giveaway when you hold his hand tighter before turning your head away from him.

your sudden shyness makes him let out a laugh. finishing the small cone within a few licks and bites. damn you are a contradiction of innocence and dirtiness that only helps his blood pound in devotion and cock harden in desire.

“what did we say about manners princess? it’s rude to stare at people while they’re eating,” Ari’s deep hushed words rattle your thoughts.

“I know daddy, I-” your words almost stumble when you feel the cool chocolate breaths wave upon your ear and his muscled arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“is my princess getting needy? politely tell daddy what you want and maybe he’ll give it to you,” Ari whispers with a soft yet quick peck behind your ear, it’s almost enough for you to whine for more.

Ari knows you just can’t have that, it doesn’t even fill in a teaspoon of the battered lust that needs to be soothed. you really weren’t good at telling him what you wanted, sure physical and replaceable things weren’t an issue, clothes, purses, shoes, books. lets make it clear, if you see it, like it and want it- Ari bought it without hesitation.

however in situations like these, it wasn’t as if it was easy or hard to tell him what you want or what you want him to do to you. you just want him to just touch you, to feel his delicious large and warm hands- his gifted mouth on you already without being asked so many teasing questions.

“I want your tongue, daddy,” your words almost stumble out.

eyes to his now, they flutter innocently at him, biting your bottom lip you look down to notice the small tent at his pants and you smirk. given that rather rude action Ari’s hand that’s on your side goes down to grope the curve of your ass, giving it an equally gentle yet painful squeeze.

“you want daddy’s tongue princess? first tell daddy where you want it-” his sentence was interrupted by the loud vibration of his phone.

buzzing in his pocket you scoff at him when he takes it out to look at the pixel name displayed on the small screen. rolling your eyes when he doesn’t put it away you cross your arms, and let out a huff glaring up at him.

"daddy! mhmm!- daddy no more!" his eyes snap to yours, the sight of you makes him lick his lips.

shiny hair sprawled in all directions, face clouded with lust, the neckline to your pretty dress folded down to reveal your plump tits covered in his love bites. he’s trying his hardest not to give in to the throbbing temptation and smash his mouth against yours, take handfuls of your tits and fuck you till you can only say his name.

but he has much more control than that, he isn’t a needy baby like you. drooling at a few licks to your messy cunt and tits, god Ari knew he was lucky to have landed such a woman like you and you were his to bring as many orgasms as possible.

even if you didn’t want them, you were his little baby and his baby had rules to follow. breaking those rules resulted in punishments and as much as it hurt him to see you cry and whimper it was getting his cock hard to.

“now princess you wanted daddy’s tongue, and now you have it. that’s what you wanted so that’s what you’re going to get.” he muses as you licks your sensitive over-stimulated folds.

“but daddy you gave me four cummies already!-” you fumble into somewhat of a sob but the cry stops once Ari pinches the meat of your inner thighs making you whine at the sudden pain. “ouchy!” you snap, hating these painful thigh pinches but adoring the slow pussy licks.

“i’m teaching you a lesson princess, you’ve been such a fucking brat today so i’m going to treat you like a fucking brat.”

“but daddy!-”

“but what, princess? Daddy told you to stop but you never listen, you’re such a bad listener.” the tinge of disappointment is heartbreaking. tears swimming in your eyes knowing you have let your daddy down and you only wish at that moment -no matter how overstimulated your pussy- you’d go back in time an hour ago to prevent yourself from acting up.

“i’m sorry daddy-” the little broken sob that slips between your trembling lips makes Ari question himself if he’s punishing you too harshly but he thinks otherwise.

so he just tuts you as if he is scolding a child and your eyes swell up with more tears and you feel your bottom lip trembling in hurt.

“Daddy doesn’t want to hear an apology, daddy wants you to stay still so he’ll bring two more cummies out of you,”

hot tears fall as your throbbing pussy is fluttering with pain and pleasure, honey euphoria taking over you moan as your thighs shake and you release on his rubbing fingers. chest slightly heaving, you sniff as you feel your tears drying on your cheeks and watch Ari bring your creamy essence to his lips.

“princess look at the mess you made on daddy's hand. let daddy clean it up for you,”

after that rude phone call you were said to be meeting up with a friend of Ari's, well wouldn't want to say ‘friends’ more on the lines of acquaintances.

"I thought today was just us, he's your friend so why are dragging me into this." you mutter, yet when you feel his soft gaze on your eyes ease on your anger.

"be nice for daddy, okay princess?" he murmurs into your ear, snuggling into your neck. your chest lifts as you try to take in a deep breath and all the offensive rude snappy remarks on the tip of your tongue soften.

you hate the effect Ari has on you, your superior diva persona of sharp wit and pettiness strips away at his sweet and considering remarks. you’re his little spontaneous firecracker but when he cups your chin you turn into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. his feisty tiger cub that always calms down with his calming words and even soothing touch.

“fine,” you say and he smiles down at your stuff pout, it’s the best you’re going to give him and for that he pulls you closer to his side in gratitude.

walking side by side through the crowds, Ari adjusts the cap of the baseball hat down his forehead and you tuck in a piece of his hair behind his ear. making a rose heated blush appear on his cheeks which only brings out a wide smile and giggle from you.

“so, where is he? where are we meeting your ‘friend’?” your comment is sharp yet still soft enough to not avert the vex towards Ari.

“he said to meet us at the circus tent, before the clown stunts,”

“you thinking i’m going to meet him is a clown stunt-” you couldn’t help but let it slip out, you were still mad and you can’t help not to express it.

“princess what did we agree to-” Ari heavily sighs, a simple sign your running his patience but you roll your eyes.

“I know what we agreed to but I know nothing about your so called ‘friend’,”

how the hell did Ari expect you to be nice and peachy with a complete stranger when he warns you of them on a constant basis?

“we aren’t friends, we just have business to deal with,”

“yeah and what a professional scene to deal business then in a tent with lions, tigers and bears-” and suddenly a sharp slap hits your bottom and your to stunned to even register it.

oh my, oh my you’re in for a surprise and you sense it when the powder blue egg color of Aris mystic eyes shades darker. that again is a warning, for you to drop the attitude and suck up to this little silly social gathering but the pulling voices of your angry thoughts echoing fuck no are getting the best of you.

you always had your way, always and forever.

you two were surrounded by people and you even thought yourself no matter how pissed he was he wasn’t going to spank you. not pull you over his lap for children and parents to see but looking around you notice the sound of rides, people chattering, and laughing and playful screaming is to loud. everyone minding there own business to even notice his hand gliding up to wrap his fingers around your neck.

“don’t make me loose my patience. you are going to greet him politely, sit with him and-”

“god Ari do you want me to fuck him to?” you grumble and with that Ari grabs your jaw, directing your stare to his.

the grip on your wrist slightly tightened, his soft lips are to the shell of your ear and from afar it may seem like Ari is whispering something kind and dear from the way he’s smiling but you feel the snide in his harshly hushed words.

“is it that hard for you to be nice for my sake for ten decent minutes? I won’t fucking hesitate to pull you over my knee and spank you for the clowns and acrobats to see. I promise princess, if you even step a toe out of line you’re going to pray you haven’t. do you understand me?”

your glare is your only response until you mutter a small I understand daddy through your teeth barely loud for him to hear.

“speak up princess. I said, do you understand me?” Ari says, his words softer now and the grip on your jaw and wrist soften.

pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek he averts her face to meet him. “I promise you’re not going to regret meeting him. i’ve pulled a few strings to get him here but it’s all for you to enjoy,” he says and you quirk a brow at him, a smile finally pulling at your lips easing Ari.

“and who is that?” you say but Ari shakes his head with a small smirk, “I know you’ve been telling me how close you are to publishing your book and I thought why not I bring the finish line to you,” he says, you are still confused.

Ari was right, you are so close to making a publishing deal but you haven’t received any word in months. you yourself are getting anxious but the way you left the establishment shaking hands with the famous Harlan Thrombey himself. how he emphasized being invested in your work tore all those worries and fears away.

although, you were suppose to receive a call months ago, yet deadlines and interruptions of some sort keep on pushing your meeting with Harlan week after week. after that a contract was supposed to be sealed and editor negotiations completed and done for. not three months later you’ve received nothing and here you are wondering if Mr. Thrombey is having second thoughts on your work.

what is Ari planning for you with his friend?

⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄

sweat glistening your hairline, your soft whimpers fill the fairy light tent, only causing Ari to grip your inner thighs tighter. all this while his hot cherry tongue slides in and out your slick hole, you throw your head back. this pleasure feels like a fantasy and you’ve been reminiscing it to this point.

trying to move your glossy locks of hair away from your eyes, you hate the way he snapped at you earlier how you weren't allowed to touch him. not touch his soft toffee hair, his thickly bearded cheeks and muscled forearms- not even the comfort of his hand.

cause you’re in trouble and you aren’t allowed to touch him or yourself now or later until he says so. you’re the bad girl and the bad girl doesn’t get what she wants, no matter how much she pouts and cries.

"daddy!" and his eyes snap to yours, the pretty innocent blue now replaced by yearning.

knowing better to call his private title in public but the empty red, blue, and yellow striped carnival tent is the only event to do something like this. the soft music of the carousel in the background fuzzy, one of his hands creep up your bodice.

pulling down the tight neckline of your dress, he grips the soft mound tit in his hand and you erotically whimper as he roughly pinches the hard nipple. your pale pink and white gingham dress crowded your upper hips yet still lengthy enough that it covers Ari’s head. large warm palms caress your frosty cotton thigh highs as long slow licks smooth the folds of your fluttering pussy, aching to be satisfied by the pulse of his dick.

slow circular strokes of his thumb rub along the small slippery nub and your thighs twitch in blissful thrill over each of his shoulders. your feet in pink strap heels bounce and flinch every time Ari shoves his tongue in your hole. pouring out moans from you as you imagine his lips polished and shiny with your sweet pussy milk.

you want to see him, you want to see him eat you up you’re desperate to move the cloth over his head. see him licking and sucking the sinful treat he craves everyday. hating the sight of just his head bobbing up and down and side to side from the cover of your own dress you want to meet his eyes as he loudly moans while eating you out. slipping the small and loud growls and carnal noises release as he as his special treat.

daring to do so, you reach the hem of the dress and pull the fabric off his head, and there you see your handsome candyman. tawny brown hair tasseled and cheekbones red from the heat his eyes twinkle in mystic hunger, his lips soaked in your sensual essense. both his hands softly gripping your thighs, stroking your hips as his tongue still deep in your hole you let out a small whimper as he slips it out.

pupils wide and both the corners of his mouth leak with saliva and your cum and you feel your legs shaking a slight when he licks the corners. more so feel your pussy wetten when he glides his tongue over his top teeth glaring at you. awaiting the degrading scowl he has for you yet your surprised when you doesn’t pinch your thighs or claw at your hips even when he just smiles.

“peek-a-boo angel,” he purrs, eyes back to their cloud heaven blue and you feel your heart melting in your chest although it quickens when you brings his tongue right back to your pussy.

“so you must be {y/n l/n}, i’ve heard so much about you.” the young man sitting across from you chimes. You and Ari sit side by side on one of the many picnic tables around the humongous red and white circus tent.

“good things I hope, you must be Mr. Drysdale. how are you?” flashing your pearly white smile you rest your hand in the mans extended hand.

“what a doll, i’m doing great and how are you doing on this fine day?”

peachy fucking keen

he sounds like he’s trying his hardest to at least sound interactive and social. blue eyes move from your face to your cleavage and you want to snap at him to fucking pick.

“well today was excellent as a matter fact, a special day. all until you came along, you see Mr. Drysdale-”

“please, call me Ransom. Ari Levinson, long time no see! before we catch up why don’t you buy your lady a soda pop. i’d like to know the writers first before signing them off to my publish house,” the young man remarks, his eyes not to yours at all but to the way your dress tightly hugs your body.

Ari sees this, anger bubbling inside him he bits his tongue. meeting Ransom from his latest cases he was shocked to find out that he hadn’t been convicted for the third degree murder his buddy was investigating that had him wrapped up into it. even more shocked to find out that he had inherited his grandfathers publishing company.

this ‘meeting’ is to ensure you get your book published and live in your glory. so instead of barking at Ransom telling him to stop eye fucking you he instead offers you a kiss to the cheek and a soft stern whisper in your ear.

“behave while i’m gone,” and with that he walks away to the food vendors, knowing full well that it’s going to be you that’s going to drive Ransom crazy and not the other way around.

“I don’t understand, when I spoke to Ari-”

“well sweetheart today’s your lucky day, it’s not like everyday you meet the CEO of the company you dream your work be published in.” his voice smooth he stares down at you with hungry blue eyes.

cursing yourself for wearing such an unprofessional outfit but how were you going to find out that you were going to make a book deal on a date.

“I don’t understand, I was suppose to meet with Mr. Thrombey-”

“oh have you not received any word? Harlan, my grandfather, passed away three months ago,” he says but every word in his voice sounds fabricated, remorseless.

your surprised once you feel a hand on your bare thigh, gripping it firmly and you shift away from Ransom. his tongue slowly licks his bottom lip when his blue irises catch yours, you had to admit they were pretty like Ari’s but they held something else- something darker.

keeping a safe distance away from you and Ransom you don’t move your eyes away from him, not cowering under his gaze but holding a stronger glance to him. you knew guys like this, you grew up surrounded by them and you even dated guys like him but not in a single situation did you let them take advantage of you.

so, besides sitting at the table trying to avoid a conversation you get this “meeting” over with. Verbally deflecting the flirtatious remarks of Mr. Drysdale. dodging the charming maneuvers of him asking you for more face to face meetings and you can sense the anger radiating off him. it only makes you wonder how long it takes just for Ari to get you a damn soda pop.

“i’m not sure if you’re qualified enough for a place at my establishment. you don’t seem to meet my criteria options and your work isn’t up to our standards,” he says looking down at his phone, typing a message to someone as if you weren’t worth his time.

“I don’t seem to meet your criteria options? you mean offering to take me out when you damn well know i’m already in a relationship? what is this? I thought we were talking about my book,” that sharp remark leaves him dropping his eyes back to his phone after he receives a message.

“my question is why are you with a man like Levinson? a sweet little lady like you with a busy man like him can’t treat you well, can’t pamper you well, can’t fuck you well-”

“we’re done here,” you feel your face getting hot with rage, you were wasting your precious vacation days on this. “and what about your book Ms. {y/l/n}?”

you’re up and away front the table yet you turn your head to meet his eyes again. no way in hell were you going to publish your book for a company runned by Mr. Drysdale.

“it seems as though your establishment isn’t up to my standards Mr. Drysdale,”

"d-daddy, am I sweet?" fluttering your lashes to him, a deep groan shakes against your throbbing cunt and you feel your organism washing over.

the continuous licking from the tip of his tongue tracing your hole and his thick fingers rubbing your puffy folds are removed just for his mouth to suck the sweet essence pooling your rose bud.

his sweet and innocent angel, so naughty and dirty at these times. such a sweet fucking treat, a sickeningly saccharine poison to easily overdose. sporting soft cotton candy thighs he doesn’t mind at all being in between them, licking the sweet sugary sweetness.

y/n l/n is a wish candy girl that’ll rot Ari’s teeth to his graveyard kind of girl and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

"like candy dolly. you're sweet like fucking sugar." you moan at the comment and he won't stop licking. sugar cotton floss, sticky candy apples, rainbow swirled lollies, and buttery caramel popcorn- you’re the whole damn candy bar and his head is so deep in Candyland he can’t think straight.

all he wants is to see is your pie crumble before him as you give him the custard filling. it’s what he’s been craving and the various messages that Ransom sent him whilst in the food line asking him if he could “take you off his hands” only increases the grind of his mouth and tongue on your bountiful mound.

"daddy's on a sugar rush," you giggle completely unaware of the situation Ari has dealt with but otherwise he smiles into your pussy.

god you always had the cutest shit to say when he’s eating your pussy and he fucking loves it, eats it up.

"bad princess, you're going to rot daddy's teeth," trying his hardest to not think about Ransom at a time like this, in his position with his mouth on you.

"mmh!- that’s so sad daddy. I always liked your smile," you moan and sigh, testing his patience once more you begin to lace your fingers through his long hair.

Ari shakes his head disapproving though he seems to occupied licking your saturation from your mound to bother telling you to keep your hands to yourself. keeping your fingers in his hair, his eyes meet yours in anger and with the glimmer of menace he knows so well in your eyes he should prepare for your reckoning.

with that a pretty petty smirk curls your lips as you yank his chocolate locks downward, shoving your dripping cunt as it grinds against his mouth. Ari doesn’t back away but invites it, pulling away slightly to glide his skilled fingers over the soaked folds avoiding your desperate hole.

a whimper slips out when Ari doesn’t give you the pleasure that’s lingering and dripping from your crux but only avoides you; but then again how long can Ari avoid your need for another release. burly arms wrap around your body’s waist as you pulls you onto his lap, letting you saunter your arms around his neck you stuff your face in his chest letting out a whinish sob.

“i’m sorry for misbehaving today Ari,” a bang of regret hits Ari’s chest.

this was all his fault for demanding you meet Ransom to see some opportunities for you when he himself knew it wasn’t the best idea.

“don’t be sorry angel, I went too far and you were right. I shouldn’t have forced you to meet him. shouldn’t have thought of this in the first place,” that little whisper followed with a kiss in between your brows.

he still can’t get the sleazy voice of Ransom offering to take you “off his hands” so you’d get a position at his company. feeling his sugar high blood boiling just remembering Ransom talking about you as if you were nothing but a pawn item for bargaining, right in front of you as if you had no say whatsoever.

“you know how I hate cutting corners, I wanna be successful because I worked hard. not because my boyfriend wanted me to take it easy and let a rich boy take care of it for me,” you whisper, head snuggling in Ari’s neck which he hums.

god, you may be stubborn but you were so loyal to your aspirations and independence. strong when he met you and stronger now, he always has admired that.

“remind me next time whenever I want to introduce you to someone who runs this relationship,” and you giggle at those words.

quickly straddling his lap arms wrapped around his neck you pull him closer till your nose rubs against his and your lips briefly touch his.

“I run this shit,” you cheekily whisper subtly licking his bottom lip and Ari takes your ass in his hands, lifting you up your legs wrap around his waist. “yes, you fucking do.” Ari growls and pulls your lips to his.

he’s all yours, your caring daddy, your carnival carnivore.

truly yours.

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

#ari levinson smut #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson #ransom drysdale × reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey smut #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out #the red sea diving resort #chris evans characters #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut

375 notes · View notes

mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

The Ascendancy of The Plan ™ (re: Mikau’s WIPs)

So, I feel like I’ve gotten a lot accomplished in the past few months since I last did one of these status updates. Most of the stories I ended up writing were much longer than anticipated, and I’ve had a lot of ideas just pop into my head that I hadn’t originally been planning, so this list isn’t going to look very different from the last one, but I promise that I have accomplished things, and there are some new projects in the works. ^.^;

I’m currently posting the final chapters of Among the Wild Things and Betting Against the House. Below is a list of works I have planned for the coming months. Let me know what sounds interesting or what you’re excited for.

Anhedonia: When Adrien Met Marinette: (Adrienette, post-reveal/pre-relationship, roommates) So, I’m taking a screenplay writing class, and we’re studying the scripts of several movies to get a feel for how the writer evokes different cognitive responses from the audience. One of the movies is When Harry Met Sally. I’ve never seen this movie, but apparently it’s about two friends finally ending up together after some trials and tribulations. It’s about never giving up on finding love and happiness...only I’m feeling depressed at the moment, and I don’t want to hear about true love because I’m lonely and despair of ever finding someone to share a life with. So I’m using my feelings to write a story. ^.^ Naturally. XD

It’s post-reveal/pre-relationship Adrienette. They’re roommates, and there’s been a misunderstanding because Marinette didn’t tell Adrien how she felt about him after she found out he was Chat Noir, and he’s told her that he’s over her because he thinks that the only way to preserve their friendship (since she’s already turned down his advances as Ladybug, so, obviously, she wouldn’t want him as Marinette either). It has a happy ending, and they straighten things out because I still believe in finding true love and happiness. XD I’m a sap like that, and these two deserve happiness.

Ladrien Present: (Adrienette, Ladrien) I’m still trying to write a story where Ladybug brings Adrien’s birthday party to him. ^.^; I have half of it written (the Adrienette half), and I have an outline for the rest. I just...need to sit down and make myself write it. I’ve seriously been procrastinating on this one. I don’t know what my deal is. -.-;

Marichat Prompt: This is an overflow prompt I received as part of my Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway. It’s about Chat Noir visiting Marinette and it somehow coming up in conversation that Marinette has always thought of Chat as a player. For some reason, this makes Chat really angry because he can’t stand her in particular thinking that about him. I thought this story out a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I’ve forgotten, and I’m going to have to think up the plot all over again. XD

Alyadrino Prompt: Someone sent me an Ask that said, “Snuggle party makes me imagine what if nino and alya accidentally did to adrien what luka and marinette intentionally did to him in shades 12″, and I thought, “…Oh, all right. Why not?” I had a basic outline of what I wanted to do with this story a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I have to figure it out all over again. Oh, well. I have the basic idea, I think.

Lukadrigaminette: At the beginning of the month, I thought, “I should do Valentine’s Day stories!” I ended up writing a Marichat one, and then I had this idea. It’s not Valentine’s Day related, so I decided to shelve it for later. So, several years ago, my friend and I concocted this scheme to bake for our respective crushes and win their hearts that way. It’s a really fond memory for me, and I’m turning it into a Lukadrigaminette story. Luka and Kagami join forces to bake for Adrien and Marinette in order to win their love.

Plagg and Wayzz Prompt: I got a comment on one of my stories that said, “Can you do a top wayzz bottom plagg one? Preferably in universe and in human form. Doesn’t have to be smut.” First I thought, “What the bloody hell?” because it was a comment on a Lukadrien story, and that’s all it said, and I thought, “Well, that’s random.” I’ve never really written Wayzz before, but this gave me the idea for a story where the team is up against an akuma that somehow separates them from their kwamis, leaving the heroes unable to detransform and the kwamis in defenseless human form. What I came up with really doesn’t have anything to do with the prompt other than Plagg and Wayzz will both be in human form. It will probably just end up being a Lady Noir identity reveal piece, honestly.

Supportive Adrien Lukadrien One-Shot(?): I haven’t actually pinned this story down well yet. ^.^; I was just thinking that I wanted to write something where Adrien is the one supporting and encouraging Luka, since I typically write Luka being a supportive presence for Adrien. I was thinking that the scenario could be that Luka is feeling down because Marinette still loves Adrien and things aren’t going well between Marinette and Luka, so Adrien takes Luka on an outing and confesses his love and they live happily ever after or something.

The only thing is that a different scenario is trying to creep into this story. It’s really weird. It’s post-Papillon defeat, and Adrien is twenty-four (Luka is twenty-six). He’s been in kind of rough shape the past few years since his father was arrested and he lost his family and home and fortune. He couldn’t finish university, and he’s been travelling around, trying to find work and make a life for himself. He ends up back in Paris, broke, and auditions for a band because he happened to see a flyer advertising for a new lead vocalist. It just so happens that it’s Luka’s band, and Luka ends up finding out about Adrien’s situation and taking him in and feeding him...but that scenario is just more Luka taking care of Adrien, and that’s not what I wanted to write. XD It also feels like multiple chapters, and I don’t want to go there. Oh, well. We’ll see what happens.

Adrien Trapped in AU-Land: (Adrienette, canon universe featuring AUs) My idea is based off of a writing prompt submitted by @graaythekwami on the @miraculousfanworks Discord server: AU where all the characters wake up in a different AU every chapter, fully remembering what happened in the last AU. My idea is for Chat Noir to get hit by an akuma (probably named Escapist or something equally dumb ^.^) who traps Adrien in a series of alternate realities (AUs) until he realizes his feelings for Marinette and manages to break free.

L’Amour de Loin: (Lukadrien, post-Papillon defeat, Félix wingman) I did a sneak peek for this here. This was one of the two “Winter Lukadrien Pieces” mentioned on my last status update. Adrien is living in London with his aunt and cousin three years after Papillon’s defeat and arrest. He’s in rough shape and hasn’t kept in touch with anyone from Paris. One day, he gets a text from Luka out of the blue, and they rekindle their friendship. Félix acts as wingman to ensure that it turns into something more.

Adrienette Hanahaki: Awhile ago I did an ask game about a trope I’d like to try writing, and the one I came up with was Adrien with Hanahaki disease (The one where you start coughing up flower petals due to unrequited love making flowers grow inside your lungs). I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I’d like to actually write this story. My basic outline is: Adrien starts showing symptoms, and Gabriel badgers him about whom he’s in love with, and Adrien just blurts out, “Marinette!” And Gabriel threatens Marinette into dating Adrien, and they start fake dating but then fall in love.

Happenstance and Magic: Marichat May 2019. Marinette and Chat Noir adopt kittens together, and Adrien tries to get Marinette to see that he’s not perfect but still a worthwhile person deserving of her love.

I’ve been thinking about this one, and I think I’m going to cut the number of prompts I actually use. Once I’m done with the other stories, I want to sit down and make a more thorough outline of what I want the story to be and which prompts I’m going to use to get me there.

The Seduction of Adrien Agreste: This is part of the Springtime in Wonderland (Daisy/Jabberwocky) series. It deals with Luka and Adrien experimenting with physical intimacy to see if they can reach a compromise where Luka and (asexual) Adrien are both comfortable and have their needs met.

Things Currently on the Backburner:

The Rejects Club: Predominantly Marichat with Adrienette. Chat Noir and Marinette unexpectedly grow very close very fast as they open up to one another after Marinette overhears Adrien seemingly dismissing her as a romantic prospect. Identity shenanigans at farcical levels ensue.

I can’t really deal with Rejects right now. I’m feeling super overwhelmed by basic life stuff, so I don’t really have the mental or emotional energy to put into a story where I don’t know how many more chapters there will be until the end. I’m thinking that what I have planned will take at least another one or two hundred thousand words. This thing is just so massive, and I’m not in good enough mental heath to deal with it right now.

Springtime in Wonderland: Yeah, no. See the paragraph directly above. This is another one that’s going to take another couple hundred thousand words to complete, and I just don’t have the stamina in me right now. I’d rather focus on smaller projects that actually feel attainable. I’m trying not to burn myself out.

And that’s it for the moment. I’m sure I’ll come up with plenty of other stuff between now and the next time I do a status update post, but is there anything that you’re particularly interested in? Let me know what you’re thinking.

Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions? Opinions? ^.^

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lukadrien #Lukadrigaminette #Alyadrino #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Status Update #Mikau's WIP

44 notes · View notes

pocket-luv101 · 4 years ago

Text

First Impressions // Chapter 4

Fandom: Servamp Ship: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side), Tetsono (side), Jekuni (side) Characters: Hyde, Licht, Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: After Licht meets the wealthy bachelor, Hyde, she was certain that she could never be friends with him. Their paths continues to cross and she slowly comes to know him. Licht wonders if she judged him too quickly. (LawLicht, Pride and Prejudice AU, Fem Licht)

Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // (Ch.4) //

Hyde leaned against the door while he waited for Licht to change out of her wet clothes and into dry ones. He asked the maids to prepare clothes for her to wear while they sent her wet clothes to be washed. After the times he saw Licht protect her sisters, he predicted that she would visit Mahiru after she learned that she was ill. He never expected her to leap over the creek and almost trample him with her horse though.

The door next to him opened and Licht stepped into the hall. The dress she wore belonged to Hyde’s sister who was taller than her. Licht gripped a handful of the skirt and lifted the fabric slightly so she wouldn’t trip as she walked. She addressed the maid before she spoke to Hyde. “Thank you for the clothes and drying my hair, madame.”

“I don’t know many people who would be so polite to the staff.” His comment turned Licht’s attention to him. Her sisters worked closely with their staff and she considered them friends. They would tell her that noble families were often haughty and unappreciative of their work. Licht’s eyes narrowed at the thought that he could be the same. He appeared surprised by her kindness towards the staff.

“I believe a person’s character is shown through their work rather than their rank or wealth. I enjoyed speaking with her. She told me that my sister is resting in the room down the hall.” Licht nodded to the room and then she walked in the direction. Hyde fell into step next to her and he held his arm out to him. She knew that it was customary for a gentleman to offer his arm as he walked with a lady. “There’s no need to be so formal. It shall only take a few minutes to reach the door.”

“I was worried that you’ll trip on that long skirt. You can hold onto me so you won’t fall even if you become tangled in the fabric. I wouldn’t want you to twist your ankle. May I escort you to your sister, Angel Cakes?” He continued to hold out his arm to her. After a moment of hesitation, Licht let one of her hands fall from her dress and she placed it on the crook of his arm. She was able to feel his warmth and his toned muscles through his jacket.

They walked down the hall and Licht glanced to the family portrait at the end of the corridor. Hanafield’s manor was a grand building and the rooms inside were even more so. Licht couldn’t imagine how they were able to collect enough flowers to cover the tall walls. Despite how extravagant the manor was, her gaze would always fall onto Hyde. She had to admit that he was handsome but she didn’t know if his heart would reflect his exterior the way Hanafield did.

They stopped in front of the room they gave Mahiru and he opened the door for Licht. He noticed the way she leaned forward slightly to peer into the room and search for her sister. He thought the subtle gesture was endearing. Before he moved into Hanafield, he learned that his neighbours were a prestigious family. Hyde had assumed they would be cold and formal but he could see that he was wrong. He wanted to learn more about her. He considered asking her about her opinion on the play he gave her but he knew it was better to wait until after she spoke with her sister.

“Mahiru!” Licht almost tripped over her dress as she walked to the bed where she laid. She sat on the edge of the bed and she found that her sister appeared only slightly flushed. It was a relief that her cold wasn’t as dangerous as she feared. “We were worried sick when we learned you caught a cold in the rain. Mikuni and Misono wanted to come to see you but they had to attend to family business. They will come as soon as the work is done.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you or any of my sisters. I thought I would be able to reach the manor before the rain started. As you can see, the weather did not agree.” She told her through several sniffles. Licht took out a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to her sister. “Thank you, Licht. I’m glad you’re here but there was no need to fret. The Servamps would’ve written that they are caring for me. What would’ve happened if you got sick coming to see me?”

“Your motherly instinct would fight off your cold and you would rush to the kitchen to make me chicken soup.” She joked and Mahiru giggled. Her laughter was quickly overtaken by a cough and she pulled the blanket to her chin. Licht could easily see that she was trying to hide the symptoms of her cold and lessen her concern. “You’ve taken care of us for years but it’s my turn now. I’ll pour you some tea.”

Licht turned to speak with the maid but she saw that Kuro had already made a cup of tea for Mahiru. He placed it on the table next to the bed. “Would you like sugar in your tea?”

“Only a spoon, please. Thinking simply, it wouldn’t be good to have too much sugar while recovering from a cold.” Mahiru smiled up at him. Her face was a little red and she didn’t know if it was caused by the cold or Kuro’s kindness. “Thank you for staying by my bedside and making sketches for me. They have lifted my spirits even with this cold.”

“This man was alone with you while you were weak from a cold?” Licht’s eyes narrowed at Kuro. It was improper for a man and a woman to be alone in a room together. She knew the assumptions society would make if they knew. She hated the thought that people would whisper rumours about her sister. A scandal could quickly grow from the rumours and limit Mahiru’s future choices. She started to rise to her feet but Mahiru placed a hand on her sister’s arm to stop her from turning her anger to Kuro.

“Kuro has done nothing but treat me kindly and be respectful, Licht. Wrath has been with us this entire time as well. There is no need to worry about my reputation.” She nodded towards Wrath who sat next to the window. Licht had been so concerned for her sister that she didn’t notice the others in the room. With a light tug on her sleeve, Mahiru urged her to sit down again. “I know you mean well in your heart but you shouldn’t be so impulsive.”

“Licht is your sister. I understand why she would want to protect you.” He didn’t appear to be offended by Licht’s anger as others would be. Mahiru felt a warmth spread through her heart. She could only be with a man who respected and understood her sisters with their quirks. Kuro placed a sketchbook onto her lap and said, “I should go so you can speak with your sister alone. It has been a pleasure. Wait, I don’t mean to say I’m happy that she got sick.”

“I understand,” Mahiru laughed and her warm voice made him relax. She watched Kuro leave the room and she waited for the door to close before she turned to Licht.

Her sister sat in the chair next to the bed where Kuro had been. Mahiru tilted the sketchbook to Licht so she could see the drawing of a rose. “When I fell ill, Kuro came and asked if I wanted something to pass the time. He didn’t want me to be bored or lonely in this large room by myself. We both enjoy art and we took turns drawing in this sketchbook. He kept me company. He’s a good man.”

“You don’t need to convince me of his noble character. My sisters are fellow angels and their divine judgement is never wrong.” Licht told her confidently. Mahiru had always been able to make friends quickly and she trusted her opinion on people. As long as the Servamps didn’t give her a reason to object, she would support their relationship.

“I feel guilty that I might have caused you worry while I was here in a warm bed. Mikuni is already stressed about the house and Father’s will.” Mahiru let out a heavy breath. “A wealthy marriage would solve our problem because our husband can buy the house or inherit it. I like Kuro but I don’t know what I’ll do if he starts courting me. I don’t want him or anyone to think I’m with him for his wealth. Thinking simply, it’s not fair to either of us if we start a relationship with such doubts.”

“You’re not the type of person who uses others in such a way. I’m certain that Kuro will be able to see that as well. If he doesn’t, he wasn’t worthy of your heart.” Licht reassured her sister. “Maybe we can write a petition to the court and ask them to grant property rights to women. There must be other families with only daughters in a similar situation to ours.”

“The house’s title might fall to Haruto before the law can change.” Mahiru was the most optimistic of the sisters but she couldn’t deny that it was nearly impossible to keep their home. Mahiru laid back against the pillow and she stared at the tall ceiling. The golden leaves painting on the ceiling was beautiful but she closed her eyes to imagine the simple wooden roof she would see when she woke up. Others would call her strange but she preferred her modest home.

She felt the bed shift beneath her and Mahiru opened her eyes to see Licht lay next to her with her face buried in the pillow. At first, she was scared that her sister would catch her cold by lying next to her. Mahiru noticed how stiff her shoulders were and she could tell that there was something in her mind. She patted her hair like a mother would. “We’ll find a way to keep our home. Haruto might be a reasonable and progressive person who we can compromise with.”

“I yelled at Mother before I left the house. She deserved it but I know she’ll be angry at the both of us once we return home.” Licht chose not to tell her the reason she lost her temper at their mother. Anger still lingered in her blood at how their mother had been so cold towards Mahiru’s condition. How could she be more focused on matching Sakura with a Servamp when she learned Mahiru was sick?

“Families fight but we can understand each other after a talk. You won’t have to face Mother alone when you return home because I’ll be there with you. We’re sisters.”

Licht stepped out of the room and she carefully closed the door so the soft click wouldn’t wake her sister. She asked a maid to watch over Mahiru while she slept and to call her if her condition changed. She wanted to stay by her side but she thought she should take the chance to thank the family for caring for her sister. The maid gave her directions to the library where the family would likely be. The manor was large and she could easily imagine becoming lost in the winding halls.

She followed the faint sound of voices in the distance and she recognized Hyde’s laughter. Licht stopped in the doorway and there were a few other guests she didn’t recognize. The family sat with their back to the door so they didn’t notice her. Most of the group were seated around a table playing cards while Hyde was at a writing desk. Occasionally, he would look up from his letter to speak with his guests.

“I hope we are not boring you, Lady Hina. You came to visit in a very short time and we didn’t have the opportunity to prepare anything for your arrival. We’re cousins and we enjoy your visit but letters are a formality to help prepare us.” Hyde folded his letter and handed it to a butler. “You’ve caught us in the middle of work and we already have guests.”

“Do you mean the woman with the dark hair? I saw her briefly in the foyer but she didn’t stop to introduce herself to me when she passed. I would excuse the rudeness as shyness. It must’ve been mortifying for her to be seen in such a state. Her skirt was caked in mud. I overheard from the staff that she rode through the rain. Whether she is mad or stubbornly inclined to show her independence above other women, I cannot say. I can only assume she was a spectacle when you found her.”

“I assure you, Cousin, I thought no such thing. Licht is not the type to shy away from people due to social pressure either.” Hyde corrected his cousin. “She had something more concerning on her mind than polite greetings. Her sister has fallen ill in our care. I understand her motivation but I would not like the thought of my sister riding in this weather.”

“Your sister is from a prestigious family while I hear that the Eves hold a modest income. The Eve sisters can afford to be more reckless when their prospect for a husband is already so little. It must be difficult to find a match in their situation.” The feigned sympathy in Hina’s voice made Licht’s hands tighten at her side. “I stopped at a cute little ribbon shop and the seamstress told me that Kuro danced with an Eve.”

“Kuro never cared for the family title or wealth so he won’t consider those things when he chooses someone to court.” Hyde envied his older brother who had decided to retire to the drawing room rather than gossip with their cousin. He wished he could do the same but it would be impolite to leave now. “I would like to find a wife who is refined, witty, and talented in the dramatic arts.”

“Talented is such a belittling thing to call something.” Licht’s voice turned the room’s attention to her. She didn’t step back from their surprised stares and she stood with her back straight. She entered the room and she met Hyde’s red eyes. “The word implies that someone is born with a gift when most would pour hours of practise into perfecting their craft.”

“How would you show your appreciation for someone’s craft?” Hyde asked her, intrigued. He thought most would be happy to be called talented.

“I cannot know the preference for each artist or performer. I play the piano and I enjoy when a person dances along to Choppin or cry after I’ve played one of Beethoven’s Sonatas. It helps me know that I have moved the audience and properly portrayed the emotions of a song.” Licht stopped in front of Hyde and curtsied slightly. “I came to thank you for housing my sister while she’s sick.”

“It was our invitation that caused her to be soaked by the rain. How is your sister? I would wager she’s better since you’re willing to leave her side.” He moved from his spot on the writing desk to offer his chair to her. Hyde thought the tea would be more fun with Licht present. “We only arrived a few days ago and the staff haven’t moved the furniture in yet. You may sit here.”

“I wouldn’t want to take your seat while you’re working.” Licht nodded towards the letter on his desk. “The doctor says that Mahiru is recovering well and it’s possible she will be fit enough to return home within a few days. My sister fell asleep a few minutes into our talk and I thought it best to let her rest. I only came to thank your family so I should go now.”

“Sitting by yourself will be boring. Would you like a book to read and pass the time.” Hyde walked to the bookcase and took down a few novels. “I’m an avid reader myself. Did you enjoy the Shakespeare play I suggested last night? I could give you something similar.”

“I read the play with my sister and it was fun. I do enjoy gothic novels though.”

Hyde smiled at her words. “As do I. Though, Shakespeare is my preference.”

#servamp #lawlicht #kuromahi #greed pair #sloth pair #servamp hyde #licht jekylland todoroki #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction #fem mahiru

20 notes · View notes

sourbkg · 4 years ago

Text

[suga] [when will i see you again; shakka]

┊- i ͙۪۪̥˚┊get up, you know i’ll see you again┊ [ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] song used 一∘.· [ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] sugawara koushi x reader 一∘.· [ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] mafia!au 一∘.·

[ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 was against him the moment he was born; having been brought into a family working directly beside the leader of the Karasuno Mafia group for generations, and not wanting to be the first to break whatever line of power they may have accumulated. Sugawara learned from a young age how to be a perfect right-hand. He knew how to load a gun by the time he learned how to do basic multiplication, and knew how to take someone down twice his size at the same time he figured out the difference between throwing knives and switchblades- all in the same year.

Sugawara was 20 when he first met you, watching you wipe down counters in a seedy bar Daichi liked to frequent. He wondered if you enjoyed your job; being ogled by others as you ask what type of drink they’d like, or snickering when you switch out their tequila for water when they’ve had too much. Sometimes you’d catch his eye, but he’d look away just as fast, leaving you to wonder if he was staring at you in the first place.

There were some nights when someone sketchy would be around you for too long, looking you up and down like a piece of meat. Sugawara didn’t mind taking it upon himself to teach them a lesson; whether it be to not leer at others who are obviously uncomfortable, or to just not stare at what he’s obviously interested in, he didn’t know. Regardless, there was unnecessary blood on his hands, all in an effort to defend you.

And you didn’t seem to know a thing about it. Sometimes, he could hear you asking a coworker what happened to certain regulars, wondering why they just stopped frequenting the bar, then explaining that you’re grateful they aren’t at the bar. That they made you uncomfortable, but you still wish good health upon them despite their not-so-kind-intentions.

Sugawara liked that about you. You were kind; forgiving, even if the person didn’t deserve your forgiveness.

One night, while Daichi, Sugawara, and Asahi were talking about strategies, ways to get product a from location one to location two, he picked up your voice under the sound of loud music and his friends’ voices. It was strange, being able to hear it over anything, the only time you’re usually heard being when someone’s directly ordering from you. With a glance behind him, he sees why he hears you.

A customer, he can assume, drunk, had you by the wrist, looking like he was attempting to drag you over the counter. With a nudge to his best friend and boss, and a nod of his head, the man had captured the rest of the group's attention. Wordlessly, the three slide out of their booth, Daichi putting out what remained of his cigarette and tossing a good amount of cash on the table, before tucking his wallet on the inside of his jacket.

“Isn’t that the bartender you’ve been making heart eyes at?” Sugawara feels Asahi lean over his shoulder to ask, hands shoved in his pockets and feeling for whatever weapon he may have. Sugawara doesn’t look away from the situation, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Excuse me.” Someone says, loudly. You find yourself pausing trying to escape the drunk patron’s grasp, eyes meeting the group of regulars you’ve become used to. The darker haired man is the one who spoke, Daichi, you think you’ve heard them call him. He stands behind the man with his arms crossed, his friends flanked on either side of him. The man holding your arm pauses as well, sneer present on his face as he glances to whoever he assumes spoke.

“Yer ‘scused.” He says, grip tightening when you pull yourself out of your stupor and attempt to use the distraction as a way to yank your arm away. The glare he sends has you freezing all over again, eyes meeting the hardened stares of the men behind him.

“You’re bothering this bartender.” The man with his hair in a bun states the obvious, hands fidgeting in his pants pockets.

Daichi steps forward, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder with a tight-lipped smile, “Why don’t we take a trip outside. Have a little chat?”

The man eyes the hand on his shoulder with a growl, leaving you to stumble backwards as he lets go of your wrist to shove the appendage off. Without a second thought, it seems, Daichi uses his hands position to turn the man around before delivering a punch right to the apple of his cheek.

“I said ‘let’s take a trip outside’,” he reiterates, “so, let’s take a trip outside.”

With a nod to the man with a manbun, Daichi wipes his hands on a handkerchief and the brunette guides the offender towards the door. You stare at their backs as they leave, holding your arm to yourself as a means of defense as if the man would somehow break free and direct his newfound anger towards you.

You jump when the remaining patron speaks, eyes wide and brows furrowed. You didn’t catch a word he said.

“What?” You ask, willing your voice to not shake.

“I asked if you were okay,” he says, voice soft. You find yourself nodding, despite your lip being pulled between your teeth as your eyes flit between him and the door. “Do you have time for a break?,” he continues, “you deserve one.”

You look back at him, then glance behind you to the door that leads to your bosses office before shaking your head, “I-I.. I don’t, no-”

“Then let’s go talk to your boss, see how he feels about Daichi having to deal with one of *his* customers.”

He’s guiding you around the bar’s counter before you can really process it, grip soft on your upper arm as he leads you to the door you had just been looking to.

“We don’t have to,” you try to sound assuring, “I’m fine.”

You know he doesn’t believe you from the way he eyes your trembling hands, “It won’t hurt to try, right?” And he gives you a smile, something sweet like honey and completely fighting the dread that had previously settled into your stomach.

He knocks on the door before you can really think to protest, waiting patiently for your boss to answer while his hand moves from your arm to your lower back; maybe it’s to keep you grounded. To keep you from scurrying away from confrontation.

Sugawara's hand settles on your lower back as an excuse to touch you, but also to make you remain in place beside him. He’s almost certain, if given the opportunity, you would’ve left the second you were able to. Within a few minutes, the door is swinging open, and the two of you are faced with your boss.

A short, stocky man who holds a cigar between his teeth. His glare settles on you first, and you avert your gaze to the floor instead. Sugawara clears his throat, feeling your muscles tense underneath his fingers. At the sound, his eyes cut to Sugawara, before they widen a fraction and he ushers the two of you into the cramped office.

It reeks of mildew throughout the room, and Sugawara wonders if this bar was really the *only* place you could find to work. You deserved somewhere better.

“What can I do for you, Sugawara? Is Daichi with you?” Your boss asks, eyes finding his hand still flush against your back, “They did something wrong?” He continues, filling in gaps for himself and not waiting for a proper answer, “I can take care of them myself, just tell me what they-”

“It isn’t anything they did.” Sugawara cuts in, voice icy and nothing compared to how he had previously spoken to you, “A customer of yours was causing a ruckus. It seems they were being harassed. Mr. Daichi, Mr. Asahi, and I had to step in. Mr. Daichi isn’t happy about it, at all, might I add.”

He turns white at the explanation, “I-I see... I wasn’t aware this was something that... happened in my bar... “

“You should monitor what happens outside of this office more often,” Sugawara continues, the hand not on your back settling underneath his jacket, showing the weapon strapped to his belt. A warning. “And I’m here to give them the rest of the night and tomorrow off; compensation for having to bear the weight of something so heinous.”

“I can’t let them go home tonight, I don’t have anyone to cover them, Sugawar-”

“It’s Mr. Sugawara to you,” he punctuates, fingers flexing against the cool metal of his gun, “and I wasn’t asking.”

You hear your boss gulp, sparing one glance up at the face of the man you’d deemed your savior, and seeing the steely look across his features. He wasn’t messing around or willing to compromise.

“R-right, I’m sorry.” Your boss bows, writes something down on a piece of paper and passes it to Sugawara, “Here’s a waiver; the next time you come, drinks will be on us.”

Sugawara takes it and shoves it in the pocket of his jacket before sending your boss a brief nod, then leads you out of the office. Daichi sits again at his regular table, the other man who you can assume is Asahi standing beside him. When the two of you approach, Daichi stands. You note briefly how red his knuckles are. He seems to take in Sugawara’s annoyed expression, looking his friend, then you, up and down.

“Everything go okay in there?” He asks, taking it upon himself to guide your group out of the bar.

Sugawara nods, though even you can see the tenseness in his shoulders, and feel the way his fingers flex as he continues to guide you outside by the small of your back.

“Just peachy.”

Asahi lets out a low whistle, “Seems like it.”

No one makes any further comment.

You have no idea where they’re leading you, but your apartment is in the other direction, yet you can’t find it yourself to ask. Sugawara’s armed, but you don’t think he’d hurt you... well, you hope he wouldn’t hurt you. He doesn’t seem like the type. His friends, however...

You’re brought out of your thoughts when they pause at a sleek black car; a BMW that looks more expensive than anything you own. Sugawara opens the door and gestures for you to enter. You eye him warily, giving the first bit of physical resistance since he’s begun helping you.

“I’m not comfortable with... just getting into a stranger's car,” you cross your arms over your chest before adding quickly, “don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve all done so far but... I don’t know any of you.”

Asahi gets into the front seat without a word, and Daichi eyes you from the driver’s door.

“We’re not gonna kidnap you, if that’s you think.” He says nonchalantly. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, you just didn’t want to speak it into existence. You open your mouth to reply, but Sugawara is quick to assure you.

“We just want to make sure you get home safe; it would be kinda tragic if all our work was for naught.” He adds the last bit as a means of a joke, but you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the thought. You weigh your options.

It *is* late out. And dark. It’s not that you’ve never walked home on your own this late, it’s just that... you’re still a little paranoid of the man from before coming out of nowhere and seeking an onslaught of revenge. And really, who are you to say no to these men after they’ve seemed to help out of the kindness of their hearts? No other person in the bar even batted an eye to your struggles. For a cherry on top, it’s a free ride- your feet are killing you.

“Fine.” You agree after a moment, “I don’t live that far anyways.”

Sugawara smiles at your acceptance, ushering for you to enter the vehicle, before climbing in himself and shutting the door. Dachi gives a satisfied smirk and gets in himself. As promised, the ride is short; Daichi pulling up to a curb beside a rundown apartment building. You gather what you own (which you realize, isn’t much. You’d been essentially ushered out of the bar- you hope no one steals from your work bag), and get out of the car, offering a small smile to the three.

“Thank you for everything, I’m grateful you three were at the bar,” you pause for a moment, as if thinking of what could’ve happened if they weren’t, then shake your head, “I owe you guys. Really.”

With one more wave goodbye, you’re unlocking the gate that leads into the building (you’re glad you at least kept your phone, wallet, and keys on your person), before going up to your own apartment.

The next day is boring to say the least. You’re uncertain if you should abide by Sugawara getting you the night off, knowing your boss was not happy with the encounter, or being demanded on what to do. You also know you have bills to pay, groceries to buy, a life to sustain. With a huff, you’re pulling on your shoes and jacket. Too antsy to not do anything.

When you pull the door open, a certain gray-haired man stands behind it, fist raised as if he was just about to knock. You both make a startled noise, eye widening as you take in the other person.

“Uh... hi... ,” he says after a moment, lowering his hand until both settle themselves into his jacket pockets, “just wanted to uhm... check in on you. Are you heading out?”

You clear your throat, blinking and glancing into your apartment for a second, “I was just heading to work... how’d you figure out which apartment is mine?”

“Ah,” he blushes, as if he’s been caught in a secret. It’s kinda... sweet, “I just asked a tenant if they knew you. They told me what number.”

You lean against the door-frame while puffing out your cheeks, “Well, I’m glad you’re not a murderer.” You pause, seem to rethink your words before narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re not a murderer... right?”

“No, of course not!” He assures quickly, brows furrowing, “I’d never even think of killing you-”

He cuts himself off when you laugh, the sound surprising him and calming his nerves at the same time. It’s cute. Really cute. You steel yourself within a few seconds, covering your mouth with your hand and letting out a few giggles.

“So, you said you were going to work?” His shoulders perk back up, smile gracing his features as he asks.

“I was, yes,” you hum out, “it feels weird just sitting at home, and I have things to buy.” His posture slumps.

“Don’t tell me I got you the day off for nothing?” He asks, almost with a pout, “It’s like I said: you deserve the break. Especially after what happened yesterday.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “but still-”

“Nope, no buts,” Sugawara cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “you’re taking the day off and that’s final.”

He ushers you back into your own apartment, despite your protests. There’s a moment your eyes roam across everything you own; a stray blanket draped across your couch, some unwashed dishes in your sink, unorganized bills haphazardly thrown onto your table- you’re partially self-conscious, if only for a moment, but Sugawara is quick to draw you out of your thoughts.

“How about we sit down and have some tea? I heard chamomile is great for helping with relaxing.” He guides you all the way to your couch, forcing you to sit by your shoulders, then steps back and points at you, “stay.”

You hold your hands up in defense, brows raised, “I will, I will. I don’t think I have that blend, though.”

Sugawara grins, “That’s alright, I came prepared.” He steps back towards your door, opening it and grabbing something from just outside of it; a plastic bag containing what you can assume is tea.

“Wow, you are prepared.” You tease, moving to stand and assist him with making the brew, but the look he shoots you has your butt falling right back into the cushions.

Instead, Sugawara continues without your help, looking through your cabinets for cups and a tea kettle. You watch from the sidelines, itching to aid him, but knowing he’d probably just ridicule you in the end; it’s funny, almost, how he basically made himself at home despite you only speaking to him once the night prior.

It’s comfortable, the way he moves around your home without a care in the world. Within a few minutes, he’s pressing a warm cup into your hands and settling in the seat beside you. You sip on the drink, watching him do the same from the corner of your eye.

There’s a pause, a moment of silence that isn’t unwelcome, before he asks, “So, why don’t we get to know each other?”

Days turn into weeks that turn into months. Sugawara and his friends made themselves residents in your life, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. While they were wary, and rightfully so with their “jobs”, you didn’t seem to bat an eye.

You understood where they were coming from, you did! But, the amount of people who harassed you had dropped down to a whopping zero, since you’ve become acquainted with them.

It’s a miracle, really.

The Boys, as you’ve decided to call them, come in every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday during the odd hours of the night. Your boss picked up very quickly on this fact, and ensured you were scheduled for them; out of fear or for brownie points, you were uncertain, but they were nice and left an outrageous tip, so you weren’t complaining.

You felt it was unethical, taking money from whom you’d consider friends, but they assure you it’s alright. You promise to pay them back one day. They dismiss it with a wave of their hand.

Sugawara makes it a point to stop by when he can; personal visits to your apartment with tea and his honey-sweet grin that makes your chest flutter and knees weak. Something more grows between you, but neither of you move to comment. You only go with the flow of whatever it is. Sharing soft kisses between sips of herbal tea becomes a regular occurrence, only to be distracted by the sound of Sugawara’s phone buzzing. He’d pull away with an apologetic smile, giving you one final peck to the lips, then nose, then forehead, before standing and leaving you to do his own business.

He doesn’t hear your silent prayers for his safety, or your whispers for him to come back to you safely.

You don’t see the hardening of his expression the moment he’s past your door-frame, or see the blood that stains past his fingertips while the cool metal of his gun presses against his palm.

“What keeps you coming around?” You ask one night, your tea sitting forgotten on the coffee table while your head rests in Sugawara’s lap. His hands find purchase on your cheeks, pinching them slightly as if you’d just asked the dumbest question in the world, and you retaliate by scrunching your nose and holding his wrists with a whine.

“You, of course.” He answers without missing a beat, seeming to enjoy the rise of sudden heat he feels against his fingertips.

“Sh-shut up.” You groan, pulling his hands from your cheeks and instead pressing them against the entirety of your face. He assumed this is in an attempt to cover your growing embarrassment, but it does nothing to stop his teasing.

“What? I’m telling the truth.” He feels you breath heavily from your nostrils, the air tickling his palm, before you press a kiss against the worn skin.

Now, he flushes.

A light shade of pink decorates his cheeks at the intimate contact, despite the fact that you’ve done so much more before. You pull his hands away with a hum.

“Your cheeks are red.” You comment nonchalantly, giving him the goofiest grin.

He smothers your face with a stray pillow in retaliation.

A routine is built between you and Sugawara. Not one based on a schedule, or written on a calendar for you to follow; he only comes to the bar to take you home (sometimes, he allows himself to indulge you in a drink, that soon has you drunk off him, instead).

It’s endearing, the way he makes the time to drive you somewhere that’s no more than a ten minute walk, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. It’s an excuse to talk to him. To be with him. You enjoy it.

Sugawara insists it’s nothing more than to ensure himself you make it home safely, but you know deep down he enjoys the time spent together as much as you do, if the hand resting peacefully on your thigh as he drives is anything to go by. He makes it a point to walk you all the way to your door, and only pauses once you're inside safely. You take it upon yourself to press a chaste kiss to his lips; the same kind that could lead to more if he’d allow it.

Tonight, he doesn’t let himself bask in your presence, pressing a kiss to your forehead and bidding you goodnight. The promise of seeing you tomorrow after a job being the last thing on his tongue as he gives his farewell.

Being on your phone while working was never something you’d done before meeting Sugawara- your boss's icy stare used to be enough to make you hide it away in your back pocket until the end of your shift. Being involved (if you’d even call it that), has made your boss change his mind, however, now averting his gaze when he sees you take a glance at the screen and type a quick message to the gray-haired man.

[kou 1:47 am] Are you sure you’re alright with walking home alone?

[me 1:48 am] i’m sure i’ll be fine:) i’ll have some tea ready by the time you get finished

[kou 1:52 am] If you’re certain...

[me 1:53 am] i am, focus on your job! i’ll be waiting

You jump at the sound of someone tapping a glass loudly against the bar, pushing your phone into your pocket while sending the patron an apologetic smile. He doesn’t return it, only shoving the glass in your direction and grumbling something under his breath. Quickly, you refill his glass, along with his companions; a group of about five men that you’d never seen before that had come into the bar a few minutes after your shift started and hadn’t left.

That was at 10:00 pm. You wonder how they’ve held down their drinks so well.

The man you’d just served remained at the bar the entirety of the night, while his acquaintances seemed to make their rounds wandering the bar. Each one had matching rings, you note, golden bands with red jewels decorating the side and a ruby sitting in the middle- the letter N carved into the gem.

You feel his eyes on you as you do anything- from wiping down tables, to serving others their drinks, his gaze rakes over your form. From the corner of your eye, you see him lean over and speak to who you guess is closest to him; a shorter man with dyed blonde hair and dark roots, whose eyes don’t leave the device in his hands.

His other three companions seem to be scanning the bar, each a decent length apart and making eye contact with one another. You watch the man who’d been watching you, his eyes settling on his surroundings. Black hair covers his eyes as he lifts his hand, then brings it down in a motion just as quick.

You should’ve been able to realize what was going on before.

The three men pull out guns- automatics, you think. You don’t stay around long enough to see, instead dropping to the ground behind the bar seconds before shots ring out. Shakily, you pull out your phone and dial Sugawara’s number, lip pulled between your teeth and praying the sounds of the guns overwhelms the sound of ringing.

“Well, well, lookie who thought they could just hide and be safe.”

One glance up, and you see the man leading this charge; he leans over the bar counter with a lazy grin, as if the screaming and gunfire was nothing to him. Maybe it wasn’t.

“You’re the bartender Sugawara’s been getting cozy with, right? A shame this had to happen to your lil ole bar.” He stands at his full height, and you scramble back against the opposite side behind the bar, feeling your shoulders press against cheap alcohol and shot glasses.

“Is that the man himself on the phone?” He continues to speak, hazel eyes skimming over your phone.

You phone, that lays abandoned where you had just been sitting, screen lit and face up. When did you drop it?

The call read that it’d been going on for 00:24 and counting. Maybe Sugawara answered? Or maybe it was his voicemail. God, what could he even do? It’s not like he’s at your beck and call at the moment.

“Oi, why don’t you pass it here? Maybe we can chat about something,” his grin widens, arms shifting as he moves to grab something you can’t see behind the bar.

You’re scrambling to your feet before you realize, grabbing a stray bottle of vodka and throwing it haphazardly in his direction. You don’t wait for the shattering of the glass, or his cursing under his breath; instead, you stumble into your bosses office and slam the door shut behind you.

After ensuring the click of the lock, you back away from the door, glancing around the room. Your boss, you note, is nowhere to be found. The room itself is almost barren of anything, and you wonder for a moment why.

A stray letter on his desk tells you.

Skimming over it all you need to do; apparently writing to the leader of the Nekoma gang, and explaining for a small fee, he’d allow them to come into his bar armed with the promise of Karasuno’s new toy being there. He sold you out.

Rattling of the door handle has you freezing.

“Come on, cutie, don’t be shy.” Another forceful tug, “Don’t wanna hurt you,” there’s a pause.

,“yet”

You glance around the room again with desperation. There’s nothing that you can defend yourself with- hell, would you even try if given the chance? They have guns.

“I’m getting impatient!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Something slams against the door and you have to cover your mouth to hold in your scream.

“Just make this easy for us!”

Another hit. You can hear the wood splinter. You’re running out of time. Think, think, think.

Closet or window. Closet or window.

You open the window, breaking down the screen behind it with a huff as more splintering echoes in your ears.

“This is irritating.”

With one final hit, the door is thrown open.

Kuroo Tetsurou walks into the room, pistol in hand. Kenma follows him in, glancing around the space with a grimace.

“It smells in here.”

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be in here long.” Yaku emerges past the two, eyes set on the opening within the wall.

“A shame,” Kuroo sighs, putting his gun in its holster, “Yamamoto and Lev won’t be as kind as us.”

A stray gunshot rings outside the building, and Kuroo pouts, “And here I thought we’d have something to hold over our friend’s heads. Oh well.” A shrug.

Kenma hums, “We should get going. They’re nearby.”

“What would we do without you, Kenma.” Kuroo’s grin returns, ruffling the shorter males hair.

Kenma grumbles, swatting his hand away and is the first to exit the musty room. Yaku follows, snatching up the stray letting and crumbling it on his way out. Kuroo pauses, letting his eyes skim over the area one more time.

“Kuroo, come on! We gotta pick up Lev.”

With a sigh, the black-haired male obliges.

You stay where you are, cramped in the closet. You don’t move, despite knowing they’re probably well away from the bar.

It feels like hours before you find enough confidence to move, a burn in your thighs that settled forever ago. The second you move, you hear the sound of the bar’s front doors opening. You curse yourself for not leaving earlier.

“(l/n)?” Someone calls out. You freeze all over again, recognition clear in their voice.

Sugawara.

There’s shuffling beyond the bar, the sound of chairs scraping and broken glass being crushed under footfall.

“(y/n)!” You jump up at the urgency in his voice, scrambling to get out of the space and tripping over your own shaky legs just as he pushes past the broken door frame.

The two of you stare dumbly at each other for a moment.

“You’re okay.” He whispers, if only to assure himself. You throw yourself into his arms the second the words leave his lips, and he pulls you flush against his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a shuddering sigh.

“You’re okay.” He says again, and you nod.

“I’m okay.”

He pulls away a moment later, cupping your face between his hands, and wiping stray tears from your cheeks. You didn’t even realize you’d begun to cry.

“I need you to go now,” he continues. Your brows furrow.

“What?”

“You need to get out of here. Go to a friends house, the library- somewhere that isn’t here or your apartment.” He explains.

“But-”

“I’ll find you, I swear. You just can’t be *here*.”

Looking into his eyes, you know he’s completely serious. You nod your head.

“Good. Okay. Asahi will take you wherever you decide to go.”

He’s met with another nod.

Sugawara presses a quick kiss to the crown of your hair, lips lingering for a second longer than necessary before pulling away completely.

“I’ll see you again.”

#mafia!au #sugawara koushi x reader #koushi sugawara x reader #sugawara x reader #koushi x reader #mafia!haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #welcome to the mafia zone

171 notes · View notes