#so i am once again asking for the feedback of the masses | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

naveymoon · 2 years ago

Text

𖤐 With You Part Four (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Austin!Elvis x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3172

Summary: Following your discharge from the hospital and into the arms of Elvis, the two of you are more than ready to resume your lives together.

Note(s): This gif. That's all. I think it fits pretty nicely with this chapter's tone's, but you didn't hear that from me ;) First of all, thank you so much for all of your continued support and compliments, I am forever grateful. Secondly, over 200 followers!! That means more to me than you will ever know that so many people like reading my work! Thank you so much. Enjoy this chapter, I'm so sorry it's been a while, but my mental health has taken a big toll on me and my writing and so I also apologise if this chapter is not up to standard! As always, all feedback is appreciated, but please be nice! Thank you, El ᵕ̈

Taglist: @captured-memory@flwersgarden@chaoticbilly@callthedarknessdown@xcallmetaniax@jazmin2211@thatcrazyfangirl22 @swatson06 @heavenlylake @imagineslut01 @k1sses4you @impossibleapricotlampbat @austinbutler17 @poppet05 @xhannahbananax03 @lindsaylop81 <3333

*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Four days of resting your exhausted body later, the nurses finally tell you that you may leave the hospital. You and Olivia were the only ones who had heard the news, and you had instantly begged your older sister to phone Elvis and inform him right away. The notion that the paparazzi and the media would ultimately find out about his location didn't cross your mind in your euphoric haze, but with the masses already assembled outside of the hospital's grounds only an hour after the phone call, you realise you should've been a lot more modest with your glee.

Olivia sighs as she stands next to you, staring out the window, before turning to Elvis, who had been speaking quietly with his father. She clears her throat to catch his attention, "Is this how it always is for you? All these people crowdin' round, watchin' your every move?"

Nobody could dispute that she had been trying to get along with Elvis. She was initially opposed to the two of you getting back together, arguing that he'd hurt you once and would do it again. Fortunately, she reluctantly dropped it soon following your insistence that he was different this time, that he was better. She still wasn't sure about him yet, but she was trying for your sake, unlike your father.

Your father hadn't seen you in three days, clearly taking the news of your rekindled relationship far more personally than Olivia had. He caught the two of you red-handed as soon as he returned to the room after his twenty-minute breather, and if you thought he was upset before, he was even more so after. He'd raged at Elvis for ten whole minutes before throwing you a dissatisfied look and left without saying goodbye. Olivia informed you that he was aggressively drinking away his frustrations at home and that you should simply let him deal with it as he saw appropriate. She told you that he would soon come to his senses, so just to leave him be 'till then.

Elvis approaches you both, inspecting the crowd out the window before turning to face Olivia and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "S'pose, but don't worry, Daddy and I were just talkin' 'bout getting you both out the back way so you don't get swamped by media people."

"Y'ain't comin' out with us?" you twist beneath his arm, peering up at him with surprise.

"The Colonel says it's best to make a statement now so they ain't hasslin' us at Graceland," Elvis explains as he leans forward to kiss your temple. "'s okay, I won't be long, Daddy'll bring the car back 'round and I'll be right with you, doll."

"What do y'have to make a statement about?" Olivia frowns.

"About the accident," Vernon interjects, capturing everyone's attention. "Elvis will just be explaining what happened and giving an update on Y/N's condition, it's really no big deal."

"Are you gonna tell them we had a fight?" you ask, looking up at Elvis.

"No, it's not…" He struggles to find the correct words, clearly conflicted in his mind. "It's not as deep as that, doll. Just gonna say that you were a little tipsy and went one step too far into the road, but that you're doing much better now, that type of stuff."

Olivia scoffs, "So you're just gonna humiliate her? After everything, you ain't gonna give her one ounce of human decency and tell your role in it rather than just playin' the knight in shinin' armour?"

"Liv-"

She ignores you, "It's bullshit. You said you were gonna let the world know about your relationship, but now she's just some drunk girl who got hit by a car in front of you? You know what, Elvis, grow a pair!"

"Olivia!"

Despite understanding her perspective, you feel obligated to just accept the humiliation that the press may bring. Being with Elvis will not be simple in terms of the challenges that the media will throw at you, so it's best not to allow it to get to you so soon, or so you think. You hope, though, that Elvis will at least disclose that the two of you are dating and that the Colonel hasn't talked him out of that as well.

"No, no, she's right." Elvis glances toward Vernon, an uneasy expression on his face. "I can't go out there sayin' all that stuff, letting others speculate about and humiliate her, Daddy."

"Son, the Colonel has experience with all of this, he knows what's best," Vernon sighs.

"Elvis," you say, resting your hand on his shoulder. "Don't let anyone force you to do anything; if you have to do it, I understand, honey."

Elvis' burden didn't seem as heavy on his shoulders this time since you were there to help leverage the weight with your patience and kind words. He regrets nearly allowing the Colonel to push him into making another mistake on your behalf, knowing how easily it could have gone wrong for you both again, and feels a lot braver knowing he'd be standing up to the Colonel with you by his side now. For once, he didn't care about the repercussions as long as he still had you, happy and safe right next to him.

"No, I swore to ya I'd never make the same mistakes with you twice, sweetheart." Elvis lays both hands on your cheeks and leans in for a brief and loving kiss. "The Colonel's a smart man, but he ain't dictating my relationships no more. I want you to make the statement with me."

"What?!"

You, Olivia, and Vernon all appear to exclaim in unison, each of you thinking his proposal is insane, but a part of you is utterly head over heels for this rebellious side of him, the one who would do anything for you. It was the Elvis you'd always wanted to see, but your rational side understands that this would be disastrous for him in the long term.

"Elvis, honey, I appreciate you saying that but…"

"But what? I thought you wanted us to be out in the world, baby. It'll be just like what we said, there'll be no more hiding." He sighs as he stares out the window, the crowd and his excitement growing along with it. "We can finally be happy together, ain't nothing stopping us after this."

You sigh, "Elvis, of course I want that, but there's a reason you never told them before. The Colonel wants you to be available, and bringing me into the limelight is just gonna bring everythin' from our past back up and the media'll be hasslin' both of us even more…don't you just wanna move on?"

"I don't give a damn 'bout any of that!" He steps away from you, frustrated, trying to cool off for a bit. "They ain't gonna hold us hostage in our own damn relationship! They can say whatever they damn please, dig us up however they choose, hell I'll even pass 'em the shovel! We ain't bad people, we ain't done nothing wrong to them. I ain't hiding you away for no one's benefit no more, Y/N."

As you approach him, his back is turned to you, his head down in shame for being so fired up. "Okay, baby, okay," you say as you put your arms around his waist and lay your head against his heaving back.

Vernon sits in the corner, a thunderous expression on his face as he considers the consequences of his son's decision, but even he can't bring himself to be upset with his son's choice. "I support you if that's what you want to do, son."

"Hm, so he does have the balls," Olivia comments, raising her brows in surprise.

☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Elvis carrying you through the Graceland threshold later that day feels heavenly, the two of you full of joy and exhilaration after finally revealing your truth to the world. It had been overwhelming, with cameras flashing in all directions and microphones jerking at you every few seconds, but it had also been perfect; Elvis had said all the right things, speaking about you in a way that made you swoon, aching to be alone with him so you could kiss him, but he kissed you there anyway, unafraid of being true to himself and your relationship.

It truly felt like being on cloud nine, the only exception being that while you're on cloud nine, you know you have to descend at some point to return to earth.

The Colonel's face is enough to go by as he storms into the hallway of the home, followed closely by Gladys who is carrying a half empty bottle of wine in her shaking hands. He looks you both over, grimacing at your smiling faces, "What happened to the original plan, my boy? The one we spent hours on perfecting?"

"Listen, Colonel, I-"

"No! You deliberately went against me, boy," he interrupts, looking to Vernon who is trailing behind you and Elvis with obvious fear of what is to come. "And you, Vernon, you let him go out there and make a fool out of himself with her."

Elvis places you down, stepping forward, "Her? She's got a name, Colonel."

"Not for much longer, boy," The Colonel looks at you with a sneer. He wags a condemning finger at you. "No, that's no longer a girl with her own name, her own life. She's forever imprinted as your girlfriend, and do you know what that makes you? Unavailable. Do you have any clue how big of an impact this- she will have on our business from now? Forget about the merchandise and the sales; it'll all be gone. Your daddy will no longer have a job! This is what we fought so hard to avoid, boy, and you've destroyed it all!"

You feel terrible as you stand behind him, guilt devouring you from the inside out. His future could have been protected if you had simply been a bit more persistent and realistic with him. You can't help but feel like this is all your fault, despite the elation that accompanied the two of you finally being honest. Perhaps it was safer to keep good things hidden, no matter how much it hurt.

"Y'should've just waited, baby." Gladys says as she prepares to leave the room, her words garbled by the quantity of booze she has consumed while watching the news coverage of her son on TV. "You're getting too involved with the press recently, always dragging yourself into trouble. You shoulda waited for this all to blow over before decidin' to play happy damn families."

Elvis swallows, ignoring his intoxicated mother's ramblings, and looks up at the Colonel, "You were the one who told me to make a statement."

"Yes, I did," The Colonel scoffs, a little stiffly approaching the two of you, "but never did I say a love proposal."

Elvis' body stiffens as the Colonel passes by you, but he does not turn to look at him. "So, that's it? You're just leavin'? You're s'posed to be helping me, helping us, to salvage the business."

"My boy, I can't help you," The Colonel grumbles as he walks out the door. "You can't even help yourself," he remarks as he turns to glance back in your direction.

With that, he strolls off the porch of Graceland, and the house falls silent, Elvis hardening his posture in front of you. Vernon bounces on his feet as he shifts his gaze from the Colonel to his son, evidently agitated. "I..I'll go talk to him. We'll fix this, son, don't worry."

He pursues the Colonel, and you follow them both with your gaze, feeling entirely helpless and to blame. All you wanted was to be free of hiding from the world, and you know Elvis did too, but he may have changed his mind now. You clench your fists together at your sides, sweat building up from your anxiety. You look up at Elvis, who is turning to face you, and you're worried he's going to tell you what a huge mistake he's made and how much he regrets the whole thing.

"I'm so sorry, Elvis." Your words are rushed and emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as his blues meet yours. "I never wanted any o' this."

Elvis sighs, touching your face, and says, "I know, mama. It's not your fault, no need to apologise. C'mere."

He embraces you in his arms, his chin resting on top of your head, savouring your aroma. With one hand running down your back, he supports the back of your head with the other, humming gently to calm the two of you down. You immediately recognise the tune, 'That's All Right, Mama.'

"Ain't no one gonna tell me I can't show y'off." Elvis mumbles into your hair, his eyes closed in the comfort of the hug. "Colonel can be mad at me for as long as he wants, I don't care. All I care 'bout is you and my family, and singing the songs I love to the people I love. No one's gonna take that away from me."

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you hug him hard, frightened he'll slip out of your grasp again. He plants a long, chaste kiss on your hairline, slightly smiling as your hair tickles his chin, before pulling away, leaving you feeling empty from the absence of contact.

"C'mon, let's get something to eat and then we can work everything out, 'right?" Elvis extends his hand, and you grab it eagerly, causing him to chuckle lightly. "Don't worry, doll, I ain't going nowhere."

*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn't expected the two of you consummating your relationship to be first on the list of figuring things out, but you're not complaining as you lay under him, both of your breaths erratic as you come down from your highs.

"My God, baby," he chuckles, planting wet, breathy kisses across your lips. "That was somethin' else."

"I know, I…I haven't…since…" you laugh breathlessly beneath him.

He glances at your expression, surprised, removing stray strands of damp hair from your eyes, "Really? You ain't been with no-one else?"

"No." You mutter, your cheeks flushed with humiliation. "Is that bad?"

"Course not, baby," Elvis says as he plants another kiss on your lips.

He gradually moves off the top of you, and you draw the blanket over your nude body. He glances back at you and smirks, "Nothin' I ain't seen already, darlin', no need to hide. I like looking at 'cha, anyway."

"It's not 'bout that," you scoff, leaning up against the pillow and dragging the blanket with you, wrapping it around you like a scarf over your entire body. "What if your mama were to walk in here? Or how about the Colonel?"

"Don't go puttin' that image in my head," he whines.

"Sorry," you giggle as he begins to make his way to the bathroom, his naked body on display. "Elvis?"

He comes to a complete stop as he takes his robe from the door, rotates, and offers you his full attention. "Yeah, baby?"

"Thank you for..for doin' what you did for me," you whisper, squirming awkwardly in the face of his gaze. As you continue, he leans against the door frame, lowering his head with a smile, "I know it may have caused some problems with you and your daddy and the Colonel but it meant the world to me that you were willing to do that. Made me feel real special, so, thank you."

Elvis puts on the robe and adjusts the belt around his waist before returning to the bed, "You're the most special girl in the world to me." As he slides towards you on the bed, his confession sends chills up your spine, "I'd do anythin' for ya, 'specially now I get to call ya mine again. Hell, I'd follow ya to the ends of the universe if ya asked me to. Just say the word, baby."

You press your lips against him, enabling him to push you back down onto the bed, where he can once again hover over you. You close your eyes, the emotion between you igniting a never-ending inferno of fierce passion. You interrupt the kiss to utter five little words that hold the weight of the world to you: "I love y'so much."

"I love you, baby," he says back, cradling your face with a wide smile.

You embrace him, nuzzling your face into his neck and squeezing him gently. He lays his head on your shoulder, and you marvel at the intimacy, which is so simple yet has been dearly missed.

When the door knocks, Elvis rushes to answer it, but not before adjusting his robe and drawing the blanket even tighter around you. "Daddy?" he says, half opening it and gazing out.

Vernon mumbles a few faint words that you can't understand.

"What, now?" Elvis answers, looking dissatisfied. "Yeah, I'll be down now, Daddy, jus' give me a minute," he says, returning his gaze to you and sighing.

You gradually sit up and wrap your arms around yourself, waiting for Elvis to shut the bedroom door.

"Daddy says Colonel's come back to talk," Elvis explains as he carefully approaches his chest of drawers, noticing your puzzled expression. He pulls out a pair of boxers and opens the next drawer to get some trousers, all the while talking. "He said he has some sort of plan for me. Better not be like that damn hound dog shit he pulled."

"I'm sorry, Elvis, I'm not followin'," you say after he mutters the final piece to himself.

"Don't worry 'bout it, baby." He mumbles as he dresses quickly before going to his closet for a shirt. "You just rest in here and I'll be back b'fore you know it, alright? Don't want ya to have to listen to the damn Colonel droning on 'bout shit he ain't got no idea 'bout."

"Okay," you carefully crawl to the edge of the bed, aware of your bare body as you take a seat, wrapping the blanket tightly over yourself. "You gonna be okay, honey?"

He returns his gaze to you as he finishes buttoning his colourful shirt and tucking it into his pants, "I'm gonna be more than okay, baby, got my girl back and that's all I ever wanted f'so long. I'mma take care of all this stuff with the Colonel, and we'll finally be able to restart our lives t'gether, clean slate. Hell, I'll even get you some daffodils. What'd you tell me they meant, 'gain? New beginnings?"

"Mm, that's right," you say to the man you love, your eyes welling up with tears.

"New beginnings with my girl." Elvis comes over, cupping your face once again and kissing you on the lips. "I'm gon' make this work for us, baby, I promise. Tell me ya trust me, doll."

"I do, I do trust you. More than anythin' else in this world, Elvis."

#austin butler elvis #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis film #elvis presley #elvis x reader #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis movie #austin butler x reader

179 notes · View notes

nyctophilin · 4 years ago

Text

Fake affection | I

sweet anon: Can I request a dom! Han Jisung smut? Where he and the reader are fake dating because Jisung want's to make someone jealous but ends up fucking the reader instead? I love your writings so much!!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mention of masturbation

A/N: Wow, so it looks like I am unable of making short fics, haha. I planed for this to be a one-shot but it’s already this long and I don’t want to bore you guys with long fics so I will make a second part and a third if needed but I doubt. I really hope you guys like this one. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Y/N was tapping her finger on the desk, her head resting in her palm. She was watching the professor walk around in front of the class explaining something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether or not she was going to get the role.

Some people from her university that were majoring in Film Production had to write a script for a short movie and the best five got chosen to be produced. Initially, she believed that only Theater and Film Majors could participate at the auditions but the administration of the school made an announcement one morning informing them that everyone could take part in the audition process. That meant she had to deal with more competitors for the role she wanted.

Initially, Y/N was the only one who wanted to audition for the main role of one of the movies since people didn’t really catch its concept that well. When the audition day finally came, one Modern Dance major showed up out of nowhere and auditioned as well. The apparition of that particular character made her blood boil with anger.

Her competitor for the role was none other than Mina, her so-called enemy. They weren’t enemies in the real sense of the word. They just simply didn’t click with one another and silently agreed a long time ago to ignore each other. They weren’t pulling childish stunts on each other, they didn’t speak each other's names unless necessary, they didn’t try to win each other in grades or parties or body counts. They were just mutually ignoring one another. And everything was fine until she showed up there.

Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say that Mina wasn’t good. Her performance wasn’t exceptional but for someone that has never done that before, she was fairly good. That had her worried about her chances of getting chosen.

When the bell finally rang ending her suffering she got up in the split of a second and left the room. She could not bear to hear any more of the professor’s babbling. Her boots let out quiet thuds every time they touched the concrete floors. She found herself in front of the announcement board but the paper that was supposed to tell her if she got chosen or not, was missing. Thinking to herself that they probably will put it up later she turned on her heels and made her way towards the cafeteria.

She met her friend Hayoon there and they sat down at a table situated in the centre of the cafeteria. They talked about how they had been up until then and Hayoon complained about one of her classes and how she’s going to fail it.

The chatter in the cafeteria died down when the door was slammed open and Mina stomped in, a bitter expression on her face. “I can not believe that they made me a stunt double! What does that even mean?” Her voice was louder than it should have been as she addressed her friends. Her intention was most probably to attract attention.

A smirk crept on Y/N’s face as she realised that she did, in fact, get the main role. She gave her friend a suggestive eyebrow raise as she slowly took the chopstick to her mouth. Her face dropped when she heard the stomping approaching her. “Hey, loser, what’s a stunt double?” Mina’s voice was scratching her ears. How she managed to sound like one of those toys for dogs sometimes, she’ll never understand.

“I can’t believe you’ve auditioned for a role without knowing what a stunt double is.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the other girl and a few people from around them chuckled. Mina’s face caught a crimson colour as the embarrassment settled in.

“Haha, you are so funny!” It was clear by now that the girl was trying to mask her flustered form by trying to embarrass Y/N back.

The truth was that she didn’t mean to make fun of her. She just let her first thoughts leave her mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” A sigh left her lips. “A stunt double is a person that executes all the dangerous or action scenes for the main actor so they don’t get injured. Stunt doubles are usually gymnasts, people that know martial arts and all that jazz. They probably chose you because of your dance background.”

“I can’t believe it. Not only they didn’t give me the role, but they are also going to use me to protect you?” Mina had an annoyed expression.

“Oh please! Did you really think they were going to choose you? You entered that room without even knowing the concept and somehow managed to get the feel right a couple of times. Meanwhile, some of us actually prepared for that audition.” Y/N was fed up with Mina’s princess behaviour. Always thinking that everything is rightfully hers and expecting everyone to kiss her ass. All that just because her father was donating a big sum of money to the university every term. They are donations at the end of the day and she should not be expecting special treatment just for that.

Mina’s face became a crimson red for the second time in ten minutes and she stomped away from Y/N’s table. The few people that were watching them averted their eyes when Y/N took a look around.

From the corner of the cafeteria, someone was watching them with a smirk on their face. Oh, how he got just the perfect idea.

Y/N sat in the second closest row to the professor. She was in “Canto class” as she liked to call it. It was one of the optional classes she chose to take that year. It wasn’t a compulsory class for Theater and Film majors since you don’t necessarily have to know how to sing to be an actress but she took it anyway because she thought it would be fun. And so far it was.

A loud bang invaded her left ear and she turned to find Han Jisung having his back to her and chatting with his friends that were seated a few rows behind them. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t like the seat was occupied and she definitely had nothing against him sitting next to her. He probably just wanted to pay more attention since he and his friends are always distracted during class.

Y/N turned back to her stuff and opened her notebook to take another look at the notes from last class. Soon after the professor entered the classroom and the chatter died down.

She was vigorously writing in her notebook everything the professor was explaining to them. Suddenly she felt a touch on her left elbow and stopped for a second. She immediately resumed her writing, convinced that he probably did that by mistake. Not even a minute later she felt another touch on her elbow this time more evident. She ignored it again not paying much mind to it. Jisung’s elbow collided with hers causing her to push her notebook and scribble on it.

She snapped her head towards him and felt anger overcome her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “What?” She whispers yelled in his direction.

“Hi!” He did a short wave of his hand in her direction and she clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going back to her note-taking. She had only five minutes of peace before he poked her side again. She smacked his hand away from her and continued to mind her own business.

Throughout the class, Jisung kept bothering her and trying to talk to her despite her obvious wish to let her take notes. When the bell rang she got up quickly, her blood boiling and left the room in a hurry hoping she could lose Jisung on the busy halls. As she was hurriedly making her way between the sea of people she felt an arm going over her shoulders and she crashed with the owner of the arm.

“Why are you in such a hurry babe?” Jisung’s voice rang in her ear as they were practically glued to each other. She grabbed his hand and swung his arm away from her shoulders.

“For the love of God, what do you want from me Han Jisung?” Exasperation was present in her voice as she threw him an ugly look.

She couldn’t guess what he needed from her to annoy her to that extent. They were acquaintances and nothing more. They knew each other from that one class they shared and the longest interaction they had was when the professor prepared an interactive class once and they had to work in groups of five.

He was the university’s “heartthrob” as people liked to call him. Y/N personally thought that that title should be given to Hwang Hyunjin who was majoring in Modern Dance. He was more mature than the rest of his friends, he was friendly with everyone and wasn’t pulling pranks on innocent people to entertain some brainless creatures. But who was she to oppose the masses?

On top of doing all those things, Jisung was also in a relationship with Mina. Every time they are together they will target someone and will start making fun of them. More Mina than Jisung but he was still entertaining her actions and that made him as guilty as she was.

“I need to ask you something. Or better, make you a proposal.” He winked at her and she felt an uncomfortable shiver run through her. How disgusting.

“Ok, and what is it?” She threw him an expectant look and he started looking around.

“Let’s talk outside where there are fewer people. You got a free period, right?” Confusion made its way on her face.

“How do you know that? Are you weirdo following me?” She has never talked with him as friends and they share only one class. How on earth would he know her schedule?

“What? No! I see you hanging out around the university all the time after our class.” She rolled her eyes at his answer and gestured her hand towards the closest exit out of the building signalling him to lead the way.

Very soon they were seated on a bench under a tree somewhere behind the university. It was her first time coming there. Y/N usually liked to remain at the front of the building since couples usually liked to come there and make out sometimes even fuck.

“I think we should start dating.” He blurted out and she froze for a second before jumping to her feet startling the man.

“I knew you were fucking weird. I’m leaving!” What in the actual fuck did she think when she came here. For a second she expected a real conversation but Jisung’s main skills were flirting and making bad jokes. She set her expectations way too high for that conversation.

She picked her bag from the bench and started leaving only to have Jisung grab her wrist and stop her. “Wait, let me explain. I swear you’ll understand better after.” Y/n wanted to turn and leave but the puppy dog eyes he gave her made her stay and listen to him. Now, don’t get her wrong, his expression didn’t soften her but if he was desperate enough to try the puppy eyes on her then it must be important to him.

She plopped down on the bench and waited for him to start talking. “Look, I’m pretty sure you know Mina. And I know you two aren’t on great terms. I say we date so you can get back at her for all the things she has done to you.” He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips.

Y/N was the one that raised her eyebrow next as she leaned her head to the side. “Aren’t you and Mina dating?”

“Obviously not.” Jisung used a tone that pissed Y/N off. A tone that said ‘It was so obvious, how can you not know?’ and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have read the signs the wrong way. I mean, it's not like you are always together and you carry her backpack around and you hang out outside of school six days out of seven and kiss before classes and make out behind the university probably right on this bench.”

A smirk appeared on Jisung’s face. “Who’s following who now?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Mina’s voice is so annoying I could hear her every time she talked. When I would turn to see what was up now you two were most times engaged in some sort of PDA.” She spoke fast trying to prove that she wasn’t following him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that but the thought of Jisung thinking that she has some sort of interest in him was terrifying. He completely humiliated the last “unpopular” girl that confessed her feelings to him and at that moment the last thing she needed was for him to go around saying she is a stalker.

“Well, we are getting there. I asked her out and she said that she’ll love to but it’s too fun to tease me. When I asked her ‘What if I get a girlfriend?’ she told me I can not find anyone better for me than her. When I saw you fighting in the cafeteria earlier I knew I found my perfect girl. Not only are you hot, but she also hates you.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Hot?” Her tone was untrusting as this was the first time someone from uni had said that to her.

“Yeah. You didn’t think that guys came to last year’s theatre spectacles because they were actually interested in theatre, right?” A laugh left his mouth at her dumbfounded face as she registered his words. A blank expression adorned her face immediately after trying not to seem so surprised.

“Well, not anymore.” She let her tongue trace her bottom lip before biting the flesh. “Ok, so tell me what you actually want us to do.” Uneasiness settled inside Jisung as he watched her bored face.

“Well, I mean what I said. We should date. Or fake dating if you will. That way I can make Mina jealous and push her to run into my arms. I bet she can’t stand seeing me with you for too long.” He looked into her eyes hopefully thinking that maybe he convinced her but his hope was quickly shattered when she opened her mouth.

“What are you? Five? I don’t want to get back at her and I have absolutely no reason to help you in your sick plan. I’m out of here!” Once again she picked up her bag to leave only for Jisung to grab her wrist and stop her, again.

“Please Y/N! I’m desperate. I’ve been trying to date her for a year and a half already.” That was pathetic. She had absolutely no reason to help him. None at all. But something pushed her to stay and accept his offer. Maybe she could take advantage of the situation.

Turning her head towards her she tried to keep a straight face as best as she could. “What do I get out of it?”

Jisung’s face brightened instantly at her question and he held her hand with both of his. “Anything you want. If it’s possible I’ll do it.” His eyes were pouring into hers and a stupid sparkle was present in them.

“I guess you were going to do that anyway but I want you to present me to your friends.” The same bored expression that she had on for almost the entirety of their conversation was adorning her face. Jisung was amazed at the lack of emotions she managed to show but she was an actress. Maybe she’s just good at her job.

“Why? Do you have a crush on any of them?” A smirk was enveloping his facial features and he had a teasing tone. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment.

“No. Some of them seem like really interesting people but their only defect was hanging out with you. Now that I have to hang out with you too I might as well start talking to them.” She shook his hands off hers before putting it in her front pocket. “Now I have to go to class cause my free period is almost over. See you later, babe!” She winked at him before turning around and making her way to her next class.

The next day she met with Jisung in front of the cafeteria so they could walk in together and “announce” their relationship. Somehow he got hold of her number and they texted the night prior about the terms of their little deal. She felt like laughing when she saw how serious he was about it. If he really did end up dating Mina she’ll be convinced that both of them are idiots.

His arm was over her shoulders as they walked through the tables. Multiple people were staring at them but she decided to ignore them. Upon reaching the table she placed her tray down and took a seat. The people at the table were looking confused at one another and some were throwing Jisung questioning looks.

“Everyone, meet my girlfriend.” He spoke gesturing with a hand towards her. She smiled at them and waved her hand, muttering a soft ‘Hi!’.

One of them, who she recognised to be Lee Minho, a Modern Dance major cleared his throat. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He had an awkward smile on. “What are you majoring in?”

“Yeah, I don’t recall seeing you around campus.” Seo Changbin, a Music Production major added.

“Oh, I…” She started talking but a puff coming from her left stopped her.

“Seriously dude? You share a class. She’s L/N Y/N from your Theory and Improvisation class.” The voice belonged to Hwang Hyunjin and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach at the realisation that he knows her. Everyone around the table was throwing him weird looks.

“You are right but how do you know that? I’m pretty sure you don’t take that class.” There was a trace of embarrassment in her voice.

“I don’t but sometimes when I wait for those guys outside of the classroom I see you walking out.” He said that with nonchalance taking a bite from his food.

“And how do you know her? She’s not a Music Production major otherwise we would have known. And she’s not a Dance major either otherwise Minho and Felix would have known about her as well.”Changbin’s tone was almost provoking as if Hyunjin had done something bad and he was about to reveal it.

“She’s a Theatre and Film major. Last year when we went to all those theatre spectacles to support Jeongin I was actually paying attention to the plays. She had either the main role or the lead. I remember her being really good.” She felt her cheeks heat at his comment.

“Thank you!” She threw him a smile. However, she got ignored as Lee Felix started talking.

“Do you know her Jeongin?” She somehow felt offended by his question. Maybe that wasn’t his intention but he should have used a different tone.

“Of course I do. We share almost all of our classes and last year we worked on multiple plays together.” Annoyance was present in his voice caused by his friends' ignorance.

She knew Jeongin from the first day. He was the first to speak to her although they didn’t exactly become friends. They kept on working on plays together throughout the entirety of the first year of college but they kept everything mostly professional since they both had their own group of friends and she kind of disliked most of his friends.

“Then how come you never talk about her?” Now, wasn’t Changbin an annoying one? She rolled her eyes discreetly at his question.

“Because we are not the best of friends. Why don’t you talk about Kim Gina from your degree?” The youngest question was a good one. They were acquaintances and barely knew something about each other. What was he supposed to talk about?

“Gina is not hot. What am I supposed to talk about?” The older male said calmly with a shrug of his shoulders.

The water she was just drinking got stuck in her throat and she started coughing violently. Jisung started hitting her back repeatedly trying to help her swallow. When she finally calmed down she looked at him annoyed.

“Who she is, is not important. What’s important is that she is my girlfriend” he gave Changbin a side look ”and you have to accept that. Stop talking about her like she is not sitting right in front of you.” A few of them raised their hands in defeat while some of them averted their eyes. Minho and Changbin rolled their eyes.

She felt her blood pressure spike up at their action. She remembered why she never wanted to talk to any of them. Arrogant pricks.

“Ok, Mister protective boyfriend. Just tell us when you break up.” Minho took a bite of his food done with the younger man’s antics. Everyone knew that he was in love with Mina. The moment she shows some interest in him he would probably leave this one in a heartbeat.

Y/N sucked in a breath discreetly. He really got her worked up and she hated it. She put an arm around Jisungs shoulders and yanked him towards her, his face close to her chest. With her other hand, she grabbed the sides of his face making him look up at her and forcefully pursing his lips.

“Break up? Do you wanna break up with me, babe?” Y/N’s voice was mocking as if she was talking with a child. Jisung swallowed hard before shaking his head. She smiled at his response and used the hand from around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. “That’s what I thought.” She placed a short kiss on his lips before releasing him and turning back to her food.

Everyone at the table was looking at both of them shocked, especially Minho and Changbin. She wanted to let a proud smile escape her but she controlled herself.

For the rest of the lunch, she decided not to engage in any more discussions with Jisung’s friends. She continued eating her food and listened to them talking about things that didn’t involve her, occasionally responding to Hayoon’s texts.

She was the first one to get up, impatient to go to her next class and not have to see them. “Bye guys. It was lovely meeting you!” She smiled at them, a smile half true because she did like some of them. “Bye babe. See you later!” She grabbed the sides of his face again placing another kiss on his lips before taking her empty tray and leaving them alone.

The men all watched her as she made her way out of the cafeteria. When she closed the door behind her they all burst into laughter. Jisung was biting the inside of his cheek irked by their action. When the laughter stopped, Seungmin that was sitting next to him put his hand on his shoulder.

“I absolutely adore your girlfriend. She knows how to keep her ‘babe’ in check I see.” Seungmin tried cupping his face as Y/N did but Jisung slapped his hand away.

“Are you her good boy, Jisungie? Does she give you rewards if you listen to her?” Minho cooed at him and Jisung held back an insult.

“Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that. She surprised me as well. Who the fuck knew she was going to do that?” When he proposed the whole fake dating thing to her he thought it would be easier. Looking at it now he can’t understand why he thought that. He saw the way her fights with Mina unfold and he knew she was an actress which meant that she was probably either crazy confident or really good at faking it. For some reason, he thought she would be easier to tease and control but it would be a lie if he said it didn’t intrigue him. He liked a challenge and if the prize was Mina he would try his best.

“And you man” Chan spoke for the first time “what the fuck was that? Do you know her entire biography?” He was looking at Hyunjin who rolled his eyes.

“I told you I paid attention to last year’s plays. On top of that, she’s hot. I remember that after one spectacle I and the guys from my dance group at the time talked about her for like a month. She was so..” The man let out a groan and threw his head back trying to explain what he meant.

“Sure, tell me more. Did you masturbate to the thought of my girlfriend? Perhaps got any wet dreams about her?” Jisung commented, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin winked at him as a smirk made its way on his face. Some of the guys simultaneously let out disgusted sounds at his gesture.

“But how did this whole thing happen? I can’t remember a moment when you talked about her or when you were together.” Felix’s deep voice rang making everyone pay attention to him.

Changbin suddenly let a gasp out and dramatically covered his mouth. “Yesterday our little Jisungie sat next to her in Theory and Improvisation and when the class ended he ran after her. I think he might have had a secret crush!” The older man teased.

“Yeah, but she looked really annoyed with him. Hence why she sprinted out of the class. Why would she accept to date him if she looked like she’d rather listen to Mr Jung talk about the first piano ever invented.” Chan intervened making Jisung shrug his shoulders.

“She was annoyed with me but what can I say? I’m so charming she couldn’t refuse me.” He leaned back in his chair putting his arms over the back of the chair.

“I think she did it out of pity. When she realized you’ve been trying to get Mina for a year and a half now she probably felt so bad for you she decided to sacrifice herself so you look less like a loser.” Hyunjin said his tone way to serious to be a joke.

Jisung threw the man a deadly stare. “At least I didn’t masturbate to the thought of her like a fucking virgin.” He spat in the other man’s face.

“Touche.”

2K notes · View notes

meteorrogers · 4 years ago

Text

the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.

summary: you piss off your professor

pairing: professor!andy barber x reader

warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!

word count: 3,478 (approx)

a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!!

You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”

You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.

“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”

You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice.

“Um, imprisonment?”

The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.

Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.

You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.

“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.

“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.

“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”

You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him.

“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”

You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.

You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.

“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you.

“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I was just—“

“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”

And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.

“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.

“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“

You ignore him.

“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”

You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How about you go fuck yourself.”

And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.

He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.

“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”

You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.

“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”

“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”

By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.

He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.

“Get over my knee.”

“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”

“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.

You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.

You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.

“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.

“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”

“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”

He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.

“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.

“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.

“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.

His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.

He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.

“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.

Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling.

“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.

“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”

Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.

He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.

Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.

“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.

“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”

He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.

Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.

He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”

And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”

“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.

Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.

Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.

He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.

“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.

“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”

“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.

“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”

He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.”

“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close.

“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away.

Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.

“I need my panties back.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”

the end.

a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️

#andy barber #chris evans #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber oneshot #andy barber imagine #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans imagine #defending jacob imagine #defending jacob #professor!andy barber #writer luci

477 notes · View notes

ask-feederjin · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><

Jin had just put the final revisions on a work project when a notification popped up on his computer.

“Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><”

Oh if only, Jin sighs softly. He wishes he could say that their youngest does, but that would be a lie. Either way, Anon needs an answer!

Oh, he wishes! Poor Jungkook has a ridiculously fast metabolism, much to his dismay. It was great for him when he was a gym rat, effortlessly maintaining his washboard abs. But now it is his ultimate curse.

We’ve been doing research on how to lower or, in Jungkook’s words, “completely ruin” his metabolism.

So far, we’ve chosen to have him switch to a completely sedentary activity level, bulk up on carbs, flip into “starvation mode” between stuffings and replacing that banana milk he likes to drink with soda. We also heard that lack of sleep can contribute to a drop in metabolism, but I vetoed that one. Jungkook may be willing to suffer sleep deprivation to get fatter, but that’s not something I’m willing to support.

On the topic of him getting tired… Hmm… I think it would only really happen if he was going out of his way to be active? Like, him just walking around or lifting basic things doesn’t phase him yet, but exercise on the other hand… Give me one second!

“Jungkook!” Jin called out.

“Yeah?” He heard back. It sounded like Jungkook had just woken up from a post breakfast nap.

“Could you come here please, baby?” Jin was now curious. How has his physicality changed in the past two months? Would he get out of breath easily? Or has his years of exercise and healthy eating still blocked that?

“Do I have to?” He whined. Jin felt butterflies in his stomach at just how lazy his boyfriend has gotten.

“Yes!” Jin laughed.

After what sounded like some shuffling and grunting, Jungkook sleepily wandered into Jin’s office.

“You never make me come to you…” The youngest complained halfheartedly, scratching his tummy.

“Forgive me just this once, your highness.” Jin snarked back. “I just wanted to… do a little test.”

Jungkook perked up the the word ‘test’. Jin knew he would never pass up an opportunity to prove himself.

“What do I need to do?” The younger man asked excitedly, watching as Jin pushed his rolling desk chair to the corner of the room.

“Well… first I’m going to need you to stand riiiight here. There, perfect!” Jin maneuvered the taller boy to stand right in front of his computer screen. “Wait just a second, babe.”

The screen suddenly changed from spreadsheets to a camera screen. Jin pressed record…

The video starts off in a well kept room. Orderly bookshelves line the background, tiny potted vines trailing down the fronts.

Pulling away from the screen, you catch a blurry glimpse of knobby knuckles and trimmed nails. Front and center stands a rather tall young man. He has short, shiny black hair and warm brown eyes. Said eyes are currently large with confusion.

The young man is wearing a rather ill-fitting set of pajamas. The bottoms fit well enough, but the top’s buttons are slightly strained. A soft looking paunch hangs out from the too small shirt, wobbling as the young man shifts uncertainly. He rests both hands on the mass, rubbing slowly.

“Okay, -ahem-.” You hear a man’s voice says off camera say. “Hello, everyone! This is the first video I’ll be uploading to the blog, yay! It was originally going to be the third month weigh in, but it seems I just couldn’t wait.”

The young man on screen chuckles a bit, relaxing at the lighthearted conversation.

The voice resumes speaking, “Either way! We’re here now! This is Jungkook, some of you might recognize his face from the profile section of the blog, but if you haven’t then here he is! Say hi, Kookie.”

Jungkook blushes, waving at the camera. “Hi guys… I’m uh, I’m Jungkook.”

…

“Oh! And I’m Jin!” The disembodied voice frantically shouts. Jungkook bursts into giggles. “I’m Jin! The owner of the blog! I’m also apparently an idiot.” Jin ducks his head into the camera, giving you an unattractive, sideways close up of his eyes and nose.

“Veryprofessional, Jin.” Jungkook grins teasingly.

Jin’s too-close head turns, presumably to glare at the focus of the video. “Yes, I am a professional thank you very much. Now take your shirt off, fatty.”

Jin walks to the side of the room again, giving you a nearly full view of Jungkook’s body. The young man blushes again, levity gone, and starts to unbutton his sleep shirt.

With each button undone, the fabric gratefully springs to the side. Soon the boy’s tan tummy lays bare, angry looking stretchmarks decorating the lower part of it.

Jungkook tosses his shirt off camera, breathing slowly and evenly. “Wh-what now?”

“Jiggle it.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, eyes closing slightly. He brings both large hands to his jello like gut and proceeds to bounce it up and down. For a minute of two, he shakes it briefly, only to let go and wait for the jiggly mass to settle. He stares at the camera, as if he’s watching himself in the feedback footage.

One hand slides up to cup his soft chest, while the other slaps gently at his belly entranced by the bounce.

“Now, turn to your side.” Jin’s voice startles Jungkook out of his self exploration. Jin himself walks towards the now sideways Jungkook, pressing up against his back. Jin reaches his arms around Jungkook to lift the younger man’s pot belly. He squeezes, pinches and lets it drop to watch it wobble.

“Tsk tsk tsk…” He pokes a long finger into the pliant flesh. “Someone’s let himself go it seems…”

“Ah~! I- I have!” Jungkook moans. “I’m soooo lazy, and- and greedy.”

“Lazy is right you little piggy.” Jin pulls away from playing with the taller boy’s belly button, walking back off screen. “Why don’t we give our viewer’s a little show? See how out of shape you’ve really gotten?”

Jungkook can only nod, face a bright red.

“Gimme fifty jumping jacks.”

“Fifty?! Jin! That’s too many!” Jungkook gapes at the man off screen.

“You used to do sets of eighty not even a year ago, I’m sure your fat ass can manage one set of fifty.”

“I’ll try I guess…” Jungkook doesn’t look optimistic. He gets in position anyway and starts counting out loud.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…”

The up and down movement vigorously shakes his little jelly belly, truly revealing just how much fat had accumulated there.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seh-seventeen, eight -hah hah- eighteen…” The poor boy’s face was tomato red and shiny with sudden sweat. His arms keep perfect time, but his legs move less far apart with each jump.

“Nine-hah-teen, twenty!” Jungkook is huffing now, tiny breasts quaking each time he lands. He is so out of breath now that he only mutters what vaguely sounds like numbers with each jumping jack.

“Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three…” Jin picks up where the out of breath young man left off. “Come on tubby, you were doing this in your sleep six months ago! What happened?”

Jungkook is gasping now, arms waving less with each jump, feet not even moving apart. A drop of sweat hangs precariously off of a perky nipple, only to fall onto his gut not even a second later.

“Are you seriously this out of shape?” Jin sounds genuinely surprised now, instead of teasing. Jungkook plops onto the floor panting. His previously neat hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, neck and chest pink from effort. “Kookie, you only did 31 jumping jacks.”

“I- gasp- I can’t…” The chubby boy leans back against the bookshelf. “I’m too fat…”

“Oh no. I’ll be the one to tell you when you’re too fat. Right now?” Jin squats down and smacks Jungkook’s sweaty belly, eliciting a moan from the boy. “You’re barely overweight.”

“I’ll get bigger! I promise!” The younger man pleads, having seemingly forgotten about the fact that he’s being recorded.

“Bigger? Eating like you are now? I don’t think so. You’re going to have to pick up the pace if you want to be the fattest boy in the house. Even Hobi will get bigger than you at this rate.” Jin gave Jungkook’s red, sweaty paunch one last wobbling pat before standing back up again. Jungkook stays on the ground, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his pajama pants.

“Okay guys!” The older man addresses the camera, winking. “It looks like Jungkook can still do thirty one jumping jacks before he gives up. You could say his stamina isn’t what it used to be! I’m gonna get this little piggy back to bed now. I think the poor thing’ll need another nap after so much exercise. Thank you for watching!”

Jin leans forward

The screen goes black.

I went ahead and attached a video instead of just writing down the answer ^-^;

I hope you don’t mind using headphones, haha! It got a little steamy there for a second… I should really get a video editing program so I can cut out those bits of me turning the camera on and off. Maybe even use my phone next time or something.

Oh well, lessons for later.

I hope that answers your question, Anon!

#lavender//ask #lavender//jin #bts weight gain #bts feederism #fat jungkook #calling all jungkook stans #ooc: a little different than what I normally do! let me know if you guys want more 'videos' in the future...

58 notes · View notes

peachbear88 · 4 years ago

Text

So This is Love (Pt 3)

Inspiration: One day - Lovejoy

The moment you stepped out of Wanda's room, you were engulfed by the towering figure of Steve. "What on Earth was that? One moment she's trying to break your nose with a door, next minute she's staring at you like you're an angel sent from heaven."

"Gee, well maybe I am Rogers." You retort, pushing past him before slipping through your own bedroom door. "Good night Steve." You say, leaving him dumbfounded in the hallway.

You awake to find Tony, Nat and Peter, staring down at your drowsy face. "What the fu-!" You scream, throwing a random assortment of punches and kicks at the three faces hovering above you, catching Peter in the jaw while Nat and Tony deftly jump out of range of your attacks. "See, this is why we never do anything nice to surprise you." Nat quips, helping Peter to his feet. You rub your eyes groggily, trying to make sense of why the three of them were watching you sleep. "What the fuck are you doing in my room anyways?" You ask, still slightly drowsy. Tony's eyes widen, a small gasp escaping from his lips. "Kid... It's your mother-fuckin' birthday!" He screams proceeding to fire the confetti he had hidden behind his back. You look at him, unamused as confetti rained down, coating your room in the bright colored plastic strips. "It's too early for this shit." You mutter, flopping back down on your bed, only to be yanked out of your bedroom door by an overly enthused Tony and Peter with Nat trailing behind you.

"Come on! I've got so much planned for today!" Tony squealed, thrusting a notebook filled with activities for today. "He's more excited for my birthday then I am." You whispered to Peter, making him stifle a laugh as he scanned over your agenda. "Damn, he really outdid himself." Peter remarks as you turn the book towards yourself to see what he meant. "Small party at 8pm." You look at Peter. "That doesn't seem like too much. What do you mean he outdid himself?" Nat chuckled at your obliviousness as she pushed past you, grabbing a cup from the kitchen. "Clearly you've never been to a Stark party." You tilt your head, trying to connect the dots but clearly, morning isn't when you're at your best. "Well, if that's at 8pm, I'm going back to bed." You yawn, shuffling down the hallway towards your room but before you can even open your door, you feel a hand clamp around your wrist, dragging you towards the front door. "No way you're spending your birthday sleeping in. We're going on a run." You groan inwardly, giving a futile attempt at escaping. "But I'm not dressed for a run!" You protest. She aggressively pulls a sweater over your head and continues on her mission to get you out the door. "Now you are. No more excuses or I'll knock you out." You gulped, immediately shutting up. The moment Nat has effectively dragged you out the door, Steve, Clint and Tony burst back into the room. "Alright everyone, we've only got a few hours before Y/N internally dies and Nat is forced to bring her back so let's get to work everyone!" Tony screams as the rest of the group hustles around the compound, save for Wanda who watches as they prepare before returning to her room.

"My god... The moment I get inside, I'm showering because god knows what you'll do if I stick around." You groan as Nat pulls up in the compound's driveway, chuckling at your antics. As you push the door open, you notice how lively it is, with people left, right and centre. "Wha- I thought the party was at 8?" You sputter and Nat shakes her head. "Now you know what I mean. Nothing is what it seems." Tony runs up to you, beer bottle in hand. "Hey! Welcome to your party!!" He yells, clearly half-drunk already. You pull away slightly before yelling back at him. "I'm grateful for all the effort you guys put into this but I really want to shower first." His smile falls a bit but you cut him off before he can reply. "But after I'm done, rest assured I will be coming down here and getting drunk as hell!" You scream and he cheers, patting you on the back before you quickly dart towards your room.

When you emerge from your shower you opt for a plain dress shirt and black pants. You make your way downstairs to find the party still going strong as you slip past a drunk couple and make your way to the bar where Wanda and Nat stand, conversing away from the crowds of people. "Hello there. I see you two have gotten up close and intimate with the alcohol." You gesture to the shot glasses on the table. "That was actually all Nat. I don't drink." Wanda said, giving you a once over. "You look nice." She adds, opting for a small smile. You feel Nat's eyes on you as you give her a response. "Yeah well, you look pretty good too." You feel Wanda's eyes flick away from you and you notice her staring at a couple getting a little too close to the balcony. "Gosh, I better take care of that before they fall off and we have two dead bodies on our hands." She jokes before slipping away into the crowd. You turn back to Nat to find her giving you the most judgemental look you've possibly ever received in your entire life. "What?" You ask. She stares at you. "You and Wanda huh? You guys are cute together." You flush, the tips of your ears turning a bit red along with your cheeks. "Shut up and give me a drink Romanoff."

Wanda was now, once again wandering through the masses of people, her emerald eyes scanning the crowds attempting to find you. She sidles up to Nat who's immersed in a conversation with Thor. "Have you seen Y/N?" Nat glances up. "You mean that Y/N?" She asked, pointing upwards with a shot glass. Wanda looks to where Nat was indicating to see you, most likely drunk, singing on a table.

"And stop!"

"Cause why'd you have to kill my cat?"

"Why'd I have to take you back?"

"Time and time I play the empath."

"I don't know why"

"There's some lights on in an empty pub,"

"A toilet with the seat left up,"

"It's closure like a deer in headlights."

"One day, I know that you will be there,"

"One day, I'll focus on the future, maybe,"

"One day- Oh baby, isn't life so FU-CKING IN-CON-SISTENT!"

Cheers go up around the room as you keep singing, your eyes locked on Wanda's. Eventually the song ends with you face planting on the floor as Wanda rushes forward and catches you in the nick of time. "I think she's done for the night." Wanda excuses you and herself before helping you to your room. She plops you down on the bed and makes her way to the kitchen before returning with a hot wet towel which she presses to your forehead. She stares at your face, your cheeks tinged with pink. "Why do you treat me differently? Why do you care so much?" She mutters, not expecting a response from you. You force an eyelid open. "Because I know what it feels like." She jumps, before cautiously sitting back down on your bed. "I know what it feels like to love only to lose and go through a vicious cycle time and time again." She presses her hand on your forehead, presumably checking your temperature. "That still doesn't explain why." You turn to face her, your face still maintaining a drowsy look but your eyes appear to have some clarity. "Because I want to save you from having to go through that cycle again. I want you to have the choice to escape from that sinkhole. I want you to be different from me." You whisper before leaning in and capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She sputters, pushing you off her and rushing to the doorway. "You don't know me. I'm not like you and I don't need your help." She glares at you before slamming the door shut. You groan before flopping back down onto the bed, knowing that you fucked up.

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

That's it for this part! Of course, feedback is always welcome. In fact, I'd really, really love for some feedback. Hope you enjoyed this part!

#wanda fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel

123 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Off the Page 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: skinny!Steve

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take a page out of Maria’s book and sleep on the train. The night at the hotel wasn’t long enough. By the time you ate, you were too tired to enjoy the fancy tub and your alarm woke you well before you were ready. As your stop comes, you’re still groggy and barely ready for your evening meet and greet.

Isn’t this the dream? Running yourself ragged as a bestselling author? Seeing all the fans who love the words that you wrote? Who see themselves in the characters you created? So much a dream that you feel as if you’re falling asleep again.

Wake up! You splash water over your face in the bookstore bathroom. It’s not glamourous. You have the small space to refresh before you face the masses. You hoped for a smaller crowd given the time of day and the lesser known location. How wrong you are; you can hear the buzz of fans through the walls.

“Hey,” Maria enters without knocking. She’s like that. You and your agent have gotten rather cozy in those last weeks. A bit too much at times. “Almost ready?”

“Yeah, sorry, I... is this blouse okay?” You ask as you touch the satin, patterned with violets, “I don’t even know why I bought this?”

“It looks fine,” she assures, “you’re not a writer if you’re not at least a little eccentric, right?”

“Oh, and what about book agents?” You challenge, “are they all so stylish?’

“Of course. We’re the face that sells the tour. All you have to do is smile and sacrifice your hand to carpal tunnel syndrome,” she teases, “just you wait until the interview. That's the heavy lifting.”

“Interview?” You check yourself one last time in the mirror.

“Didn’t I mention? The local station wants a sit down before we’re off tomorrow,” she explains, “I said yes. It’s a decent check and good business. Any publicity is good publicity. Publisher signed off on it too so... can’t back out.”

“Oh, and you were going to tell me when?”

“Right now,” she shrugs, “come on, your adoring fans are waiting for their elf queen.”

“Oof, don’t,” you cringe, “you make it sound so lame.”

“If it was lame, you wouldn’t be here,” she asserts.

“Suppose you’re right,” you pack your things up into your bag and shove it in the corner. “Alright, I’m ready.”

You follow her into the hall and through to the main area of the bookstore. It’s been closed early for the event, a meet and greet exclusive to those who claimed the limited one hundred tickets for sale. Each ticket includes the cost of a free signed edition and bookmark. Funny to think you’d once been on the other side of one of these things. The eager beaver reader aspiring to be the star author.

As you come into sigh of the audience, they cheer. You’re still not used to that either. You wave and smile out at them. The moderator, an employee of the bookshop chain, calls for their attention over the microphone and introduces you. There’s another softer round of applause.

You take your seat on the stool and let out a breath. You start with the reading. You try not to do the same chapter, instead cycling through your favourites. Some you even know by rote now.

Then comes the Q and A session. You know all the answers. You find it’s always the same questions. Besides, you created this world, these characters, if there isn’t anything written, then you get to decide.

A group a giggly women finish asking their questions about the ‘rumoured’ sequel to which you give your PR friendly deflection. After them, you wait for the next person to appear. There’s some scuffling at the microphone as they lower it. You wait patiently and smile at the slender blond man. He’s vaguely familiar.

“Hi, um, my question is, whether Emeris is truly the promised knight or if he was just in the right place at the right time?”

You nod as you listen, your thoughts whirring. It’s not an entirely out-there question. It isn’t what he’s asking that gives you pause. You swear you’ve seen him before.

“Well, we can’t know for sure. I like to think of the promised knight as not a specific person fated from birth but rather a possibility for all. The promised knight is the one who can step up in that time of need and do what it is needed,” you explain. “I hope that makes sense.”

The man doesn’t speak right away, himself stalling before he can respond, “yes, I guess it does. Thank you.”

He lingers at the microphone for a moment as he watches you. He clutches a worn copy to his chest tightly. That’s familiar too.

Strange. You're sure there’s lots of people who double dip. You have to admit you did it once yourself. Sometimes you just need that thrill.

The blond man steps back and lets the next person ahead of him but he doesn’t go far. He stays close to the queue of people and you feel him staring you down. Everyone is watching you but his gaze just feels so much more intense. You do your best to focus on the person at the microphone.

Several others ask their questions or just give their praise. The man remains. You can’t shake the sense of him. He’s like a shadow. You don’t know why you’re so aware of him.

Finally, you finish up and it’s time to announce the special prize. It’s a raffle set up by ticket number. The package isn’t anything special; a collector’s edition, a mug, and some pens that look like quills. The moderator brings up a box filled with slips and you reach inside. You read out the number and the crowd mutters.

“Me,” a deep voice rings out, a hand popping up from lower down. The blond man steps forward and waves his ticket, “it’s mine.”

Strange coincidence. You keep your smile plastered on. You don’t need another Maria lecture about your tired moping. You’re handed the prize basket and you carry it down to meet the man.

“Congratulations,” you say as he meets you at the lip of the low platform.

“Thank you,” he beams up brightly, “it’s nice to see you again.”

You try not to show your surprise, “yeah, uh... you too.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t remember exactly where you saw him and definitely not a name; you hear too many of those to keep track.

“Really?” He breathes.

“Er, enjoy your prize. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Of course. Always. Anytime,” he avows shakily. “’To you, my queen, I bid my blood and breath.’”

You hesitate. That’s from the book. Emeris proclaims it to the elvish protagonist on her quest to reclaim her stolen homeland. It’s flattering yet slightly unsettling to have it recited to you.

“Have a good night,” you say gently and turn to walk back across the platform. You’re tired, you need to get out of here.

#off the page #steve rogers #skinny!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #au #bookstore au #drabble #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

89 notes · View notes

captainrogers-ass · 3 years ago

Text

Leather & Spice - Zemo x Reader One-Shot

Summary: You could never say no to a mission when it was Sam Wilson calling, yet cooperating with a convicted mass murderer hadn’t exactly been what you were expecting. Wounding, maiming, killing; those were all in your job description. Acting as Helmut Zemo’s lover was not.

Word Count: 4900

Pairings: Zemo x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bucky x Reader (platonic)

A/N: Ok so I know I’ve been super inactive and I know this isn’t strictly Chris Evans related but I’m currently obsessed with TFATWS; more specifically a certain mass murderer. I’ve substituted Serbian for Sokovian, although Zemo talks to Bucky in Russian. As always, any and all feedback is much appreciated. I hope you enjoy!!! Let me know if you want a part 2!!!

The call had been tense, brief, and widely lacking in any important information, and yet you had still gone anyway.

No matter how many times the Avengers had screwed you over you couldn’t help yourself when Sam Wilson called. Your resistance was futile. He was too charming to say no to, and you were pretty sure he was perfectly well aware of that.

The private jet had been a nice surprise in all honesty. Sam had seemingly always had a knack for finding the seediest alleyway or dingiest motel room to meet up in whenever he called for your help, so you couldn’t help but smile at the change in scenery. Your boots clicked loudly on the tarmac below as you approached the plane, your hand pausing as it connected with the railing of the stair car, a small smile escaping onto your lips as you tried to contain your unusual excitement.

A butler with greying hair and aged skin greeted you at the entrance to the plane. He was dressed in a neat, black suit and smiled at you kindly upon your arrival, his arms already extended as he motioned towards your luggage.

“Oh, thank you,” you said with a smile as you handed over your bag.

The cabin was lovely; spacious, lavish and filled with two grown men who were currently too enthralled in their escalating argument to take any notice of your arrival.

Bucky and Sam were sitting next to each other; Bucky slumped over within his seat with his arms folded across his chest, Sam perched at the edge of his own seat, his hands raised passionately before him as he berated Bucky in a tone that was clearly trying to stay relatively calm but was miserably failing. You cleared your throat as a small smile escaped onto your lips; these two hadn’t changed one bit.

Sam’s eyes met yours first.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, immediately rising from his seat and striding the few steps towards you, engulfing you in a hug. “I wasn’t sure, you’d come. I haven’t seen you in so long!”

You laughed as you managed to extract yourself from Sam’s embrace.

“You know I can never say no to you, Sam,” you chuckled.

“It’s because I’m too handsome, right?”

“Sure.”

You turned your attention to Bucky who was now standing just slightly back from Sam, their argument apparently forgotten as Bucky smiled kindly towards you.

“Hey there stranger,” you said as you gave Bucky a brief hug.

“And here I was thinking I was the most antisocial person I knew,” he retorted.

“I haven’t been avoiding you two, I promise. I’ve just been busy.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “With whatever it is you do.”

You laughed but didn’t answer his implied question.

“This jet is a nice touch. How in the hell did you afford this?” you questioned.

The atmosphere changed immediately, the smile on your features faltering slightly as you felt the tension rise around you. Bucky turned his eyes to the floor, his figure hunching over slightly so that he looked far smaller than he usually appeared. Sam averted his gaze as well, instead turning to look at something past your shoulder.

“It’s mine actually. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Having worked in secret services your entire life you found yourself quite shocked at having failed to notice the third man on board. There was no doubt that this man hadn’t been in the main cabin upon your arrival, but having failed to recognise his presence until he spoke was an unusual oversight on your part; especially since he was standing quite close to you.

As you turned around you registered three things before your eyes landed upon him. Firstly, his accent was unusual, captivating and alluring, not one that you could outright recognise on an initial introduction alone. Secondly, his cologne was extraordinarily enticing; a dark, spicy smell that washed over you and filled your senses all at once so that you couldn’t help but inhale deeply to try and get another whiff of it. And thirdly, his presence was remarkable. Even before you looked upon him you could tell that this was a man of wealth; his tone, his posture, his cologne, his everything, oozed sophistication.

And then your eyes met his.

“I’m Helm-”

Before he could finish you grabbed the hand he had been in the process of outstretching for a handshake, twisted it behind his back before shoving him up against the wall of the plane with quite possibly a tad more force than was strictly necessary. A grunt escaped his lips as you did so, but whether it was from pain or surprise you couldn’t tell.

“Y/N!” Bucky and Sam yelled in unison.

“Would someone care to explain to me why there is a convicted criminal on board this plane.” Your voice came out far calmer than you were expecting.

“Well it is my pla-”

“Shut up,” you, Bucky and Sam all said in unison.

You pushed his contorted arm higher and a flicker of pain crossed his features for just a second, yet he remained silent. His face was pressed against the wall, your body weight holding him in place, and yet his eyes were trained on you, a piercing blend of hazel and gold that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t resisting at all—which was surprising considering he could probably overpower you with his military history—and he no longer made any obvious outward indication that he was in pain even though the placement of his arm would suggest otherwise.

“We need him, Y/N,” Sam finally spoke up.

You struggled to pull your gaze from his, lingering for what felt like years.

“And his life-long prison sentence just happened to be up, I suppose?” you replied.

You couldn’t quite tell, but the subtle vibrations coming from Zemo made you think that he was laughing.

“Well, Bucky was the one who actually broke him ou-” Sam began.

“Oh yeah blame it on me,” Bucky exclaimed.

“Were you not the one who broke him out?”

“You know we needed him I was just the-”

“Ok, ok, boys,” you interrupted. “I really don’t care whose fault it is. What’s done is done. But will someone please explain why the hell we need a mass murderer’s help?”

“Well, there’s this new terrorist organisation called the Flagsmashers,” Sam began.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Zemo interrupted. You pushed him up against the wall harder but he continued on unfazed. “But I feel like this story is going to take a while so is there any possibility that I can have the function of my arm back, please?”

There was that accent again, so unusual and yet so smooth that it took you a few seconds to actually register what the man was saying. You glared at him for several seconds but eventually loosened your grip.

Immediately turning around, Zemo brought his hand up to rub at the arm that had been angled uncomfortably behind his back, his gaze never leaving yours. Your eyes travelled down his figure, taking in the luxurious coat draped around his shoulders, the well-tailored purple turtleneck underneath that shaped his frame well, and the expensive-looking black gloves that clung to his fingers. When your eyes returned to his a smile was peeking through onto his lips.

“As I was saying before, I’m Helmut Zemo.” You noticed that he didn’t extend his hand a second time for a handshake. “But I take it you already knew that…Y/N, is it?”

You didn’t answer, simply continuing to stare at him through slitted eyelids.

“I would say it is a pleasure to meet you,” he began again, making his way over to a small bar cart as he poured himself a drink. “But it was actually a surprisingly painful introduction.”

Extending a gloved hand towards you Zemo offered you a glass of the brown liquid. With some hesitation you accepted, your eyes never leaving his as your hand brushed over his gloved one.

Tearing your gaze from his you made your way to the seat in front of where Sam and Bucky had been previously sitting. Taking a sip from your drink you motioned for the two men to reclaim their seats.

“So, tell me about these Flagsmashers.”

“If we have to do something about this, I’m the only one that looks like a pimp,” Sam commented, looking down to admire the colourfully decorated suit he was wearing.

The four of you were currently walking across an empty bridge, the lights of the bustling city burning bright in the distance.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing; a sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger,” Zemo replied, passing his phone to Sam, a photo lighting up the screen.

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me though.”

You walked closer to Sam, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at the picture. You laughed slightly to yourself.

“You sure you don’t have some alter ego you’re not telling us about?” you questioned.

“Ha, ha,” Sam responded dryly.

“So then who am I supposed to be?” you asked Zemo. “Some stunningly beautiful millionaire who also happens to look exactly like me, I presume?”

The sarcasm was obvious in your tone and yet you were still surprised at the small laugh that left Zemo’s lips. It was deep, dark, and didn’t last very long, but it was charming. You turned away from him and looped your arm through Sam’s instead, pretending to need assistance with walking from the six-inch heels Zemo had you wear.

The dress he had presented to you on the plane was surprisingly stunning. It was black and fell just above your ankles, a large slit running up the left side of the fabric and a cowling neckline that accentuated your figure perfectly. The back was low, the straps criss-crossing across your shoulders doing little to provide any solace from the evenings cold wind.

“In a sense I suppose that is correct,” Zemo responded. “You will be playing the role of my date.”

Your head whipped around to stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

Bucky and Sam tried in vain to hide their snickers. You punched Sam lightly in the arm.

“The Smiling Tiger, the Winter Soldier and I all have reputations that we can rely on here in Madripoor. Nobody knows who you are Y/N and that makes you the most valuable person here. By limiting you to just my date people will begin to underestimate you which makes you a valuable asset if things begin to go South.”

His words made sense and yet you refused to admit it.

“He’s not wrong, Y/N,” Sam whispered to you.

“I think if Bucky can pretend to be the Winter Soldier,” Zemo continued. “Then you will be perfectly capable of pretending to be my date.”

“No, I think Y/N still got the short straw here,” Bucky said, causing you and Sam to begin to snicker as a scowl appeared on Zemo’s face.

A black car began to approach you on the bridge, pulling up beside you. Just before you could open the door a gloved hand enclosed around the handle.

“Allow me, draga.”

He opened the door and motioned for you to enter. You met his gaze, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“I’m not your date just yet.”

“A lady should always be treated with respect whether she is one’s date or not.”

You hadn’t been expecting a response, yet he had provided one so quickly and with such sincerity in his voice that you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at him. Your gaze lingered upon his for several seconds before he provided you with a curt nod.

You entered the car without another word, Zemo following in behind you so that you were now sandwiched between him and Sam with Bucky sitting quite comfortably in the front seat.

The drive into town was mostly quiet. You enjoyed looking out the window at the bright city, mesmerised by all the neon signs and blinding lights. The streets were riddled with guns; hidden in holsters on people’s hips, tucked into the backs of pants, or simply waved around nonchalantly. You checked the holster attached to your thigh for good measure.

Glancing into the rear-view mirror you could have sworn that you had met Zemo’s gaze for a split second, but with a blink of your eyes his head was now directed out the window, his gaze fixated on the passing buildings. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but returned your gaze to the window once more without a word.

The streets were crawling with criminals when you reached the bar. Guns were being waved around as if they were a fashion accessory and blatant felonies were being conducted out in the open with no attempt to conceal anything.

Zemo exited the car first, and as you scooted across the seat to make your own exit you found that familiar gloved hand was already extended towards you. Looking up, your eyes met his, taking his hand without a word. You were now in character and you were going to play the role as best you could.

You didn’t let go of Zemo’s hand as he helped you from the car. Instead, after waiting for him to close the door behind you, you looped your arm through his as you had done to Sam only minutes previously, this time leaning into him much more closely than you had done with your friend.

If Zemo was surprised at your gentle touch he did not show it. Instead he flexed his arm to bring you slightly closer before leading you, Bucky and Sam into the bar. As soon as you had exited the car it seemed as if the whole street had their eyes on you. Your heart fluttered nervously in your chest, but your features remained neutral even as your eyes roamed freely around your surroundings.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you whispered to Zemo. “But I think you should’ve given me something a bit more revealing to wear. This dress is beautiful, but I look so out of place.”

Zemo turned to you with a smile on his face.

“Any woman on my arm will always be dressed in the finest of silks. It would be far more suspicious if I made you wear a more revealing dress, trust me.”

His voice was low as he spoke to you, his gaze fixated on you as he smiled cheekily.

Your heart fluttered nervously once more.

The bar was loud, hot and filled with half-drunk people rubbing their private parts against each other. The popular neon lights trickled in to the establishment, casting contrasting shadows of yellow and red across the space.

A bartender greeted you as you approached the bar, his face stoic and void of emotion.

“Hello gentlemen,” he nodded towards Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

Zemo answered for him.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender turned to Sam.

“The usual?”

Sam nodded.

When the bartender returned with a snake and began to gut it right in front of you you couldn’t help the small smile that crept up onto your face when you realised what was happening.

“Ah,” Zemo began, “Smiling Tiger, your favourite.”

His tone was slightly mocking and it nearly caused you to burst out laughing right there, but you managed to retain your composure. Sam turned with a resentful look on his face to see you and Zemo trying to hide the smiles that were creeping on to your faces.

“I love these,” Sam said as he raised the glass to you.

You leaned your head on to Zemo’s shoulder in an attempt to hide your snickers. Sam clinked his glass against Zemo’s, and after some hesitation, downed the shot in one.

The smile was wiped from your face as you felt a presence approach you from behind, struggling against the instinct to reach for your weapon. Zemo felt you still beside him and immediately turned to meet the approaching man, placing you slightly behind him.

“I got word from on high,” the man said. “You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo’s voice sounded nonchalant as he responded.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists he can either come and talk to me,” Zemo looked behind him to where Bucky was standing.

“New haircut?” the man said to Bucky with a scoff.

Zemo’s voice was deep and demanding, grasping the man’s attention once more, “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man left but now your senses were on high alert as Zemo turned back to talk to Bucky. Your eyes scoured the room, noticing several men beginning to approach you. Slowly your hand began to travel down to your gun.

“Not yet, dušica.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky just as one of the approaching men placed his hand upon Zemo’s shoulder. “Zimniy soldat. Ataka.”

Without hesitating Bucky grabbed the arm of the man who had touched Zemo, bending it painfully backwards. You watched on with bated breath, worried for your friend as he reverted back to what he once was, not because he wasn’t able to handle the fight—he wasn’t even breaking a sweat as he took on three guys at once—but because of what this little act might have on all the progress he had made.

Your gaze flickered to Zemo for a split second to find that he was smiling.

“It didn’t take long for him to fall back into form,” he whispered to you.

Ever since this trip had begun you had slowly started to become desensitised to the fact that you were in the presence of a mass murderer, often forgetting at times that the man before you had caused so much pain and suffering. But now it hit you all at once, causing you to become quite repulsed by the presence beside you.

Wanting to remove yourself from his side but knowing that you couldn’t you instead leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“If you smile again from Bucky’s pain, I’ll punch your teeth in so that when I burn you to death they won’t be able to use your dental records to identify your body.”

To say that Zemo was surprised at your comment was an understatement as he whipped his head around to look at you, his mask of composure forgotten for a split second as his eyes met yours. He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you that he had not been expecting such a response. His gaze fell to the floor and you thought, just for a second, that maybe he was about to apologise, but when his eyes came back to look at you his mouth remained closed.

He noticed the change in your attitude immediately. Whilst you did not disentangle your arm from his, you now distanced yourself as far as you could from his side, your touch no longer the comfortable presence he had begun to enjoy, now cold and impersonal.

The sounds of guns being cocked brought your attention back to the room.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo quickly whispered to Bucky. “Otlichnaya rabota, soldat,” he said louder.

Everyone in the bar paused as Bucky let go of the man he had been in the process of choking.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interrupted.

A small sigh of relief escaped from your lips.

The back room was poorly lit and smelt of alcohol and cigarettes, the wall to your left illuminated by small televisions that displayed the security camera footage from all over the bar.

Selby—a middle aged, menacing looking woman with short, platinum blonde hair—was sitting upon one of the luxurious couches, dressed in an ill-fitting suit with a loosely tied tie hanging around her neck.

“You should know, Baron,” she began, tapping her hand against the head of the couch. “People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand,” Zemo responded. “An offer.”

Zemo took a seat on the couch opposite to Selby’s, his hand in yours as he motioned for you to sit next to him. You paused for just a second before perching yourself so that you were instead sitting in his lap. As much as you didn’t want to be in this position, when you went undercover you did it well. Zemo’s face showed no hint of surprise, but his hands fumbled for a split second, unsure of where to place them before he rested one on your waist and one on your thigh, quite high up so that he was basically at your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed and you found yourself quite surprised at his willingness to respect your boundaries.

Selby raised an eyebrow at you.

“A lot has changed since you were last here,” she said, her gaze now fixated on you. It made you feel uncomfortable, but you didn’t show it as you leaned back into Zemo’s touch. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

Zemo’s gloved hand began rubbing circles on your knee, your skin exposed from the slit in the dress. You were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was doing it, but you weren’t altogether against the touch.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” he responded. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“What’s the offer.”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky who remained stoic and impassive in the corner of the room. “Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” She paused as she considered the offer. “You were right to seek me out. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank…or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh, the breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby’s gaze shifted to Bucky before it returned to land on you. “Who is this beautiful creature you’ve got with you?”

You felt Zemo stiffen beneath you.

“Ah,” he began, his voice somehow having grown deeper. “This one isn’t part of the deal. She’s mine.”

There was an intensity to the way he said mine. It was subtle, but it was there, and Selby noticed it as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“Are you sure about that, Baron?” she responded with a laugh. “These young creatures get so restless. Are you sure she’s not bored with you already?”

Zemo’s hand was now gripping your thigh a lot lower than where it had previously been and a lot harder; not so roughly that it hurt, but hard enough for you to realise that he was unsure of how to proceed. You turned your gaze to Selby who licked her lips as your eyes met hers, before turning your attention back to Zemo. He looked up towards you, a confused look flashing across his eyes as he tried to figure out what you were about to do. Having made your decision—and before you had enough time to really question what you were about to do—you leaned down towards the Baron and collided your lips with his.

Zemo hesitated at first, his lips unresponsive against yours for a split second before he returned the gesture. His hands came up to tangle themselves in your hair, your own hands gripping the base of his scalp. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and turned slightly so that Selby had a clear view.

You made sure the kiss was dirty and ferocious, and it left both of you breathless as you pulled away from him.

You turned to Selby with a smirk on your face, wiping some saliva from the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb as you maintained eye-contact with her.

“Not quite yet,” you said.

A viscous smile spread across her face but before Selby could respond Sam’s phone began to ring, and everything went downhill pretty quickly from there.

When the sniper shot came through the window you didn’t have time to be surprised, immediately leaping to your feet, gun already in hand. Before Selby’s henchmen had even had time to react you had already shot a bullet into two of their chests, Bucky taking out the third man in the room.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead,” Zemo said, quickly making his way back down to the bar with you, Sam and Bucky close behind, your gun back in its concealed holster.

Descending the stairs quickly, Bucky leaned back with a smirk on his face.

"Told you you got the short straw."

Punching him in the arm to try to get him to shut up you quickly realised your mistake as you brought your hand to your chest, pain flaring in your knuckles at having collided with the vibranium. A short laugh escaped from Bucky's lips.

"Focus," Zemo called from the front of the group.

You made your way back on to the street quickly, following Zemo as he hastily walked in a direction that you hoped would get you off the main strip. Looking around you as you walked you kept noticing people getting notifications on their phones and a bad feeling began to grow in your stomach.

A round of bullets were shot towards you, the proximity of the bang causing your ears to ring painfully. All four of you ducked immediately as you scrambled away quickly. Bucky and Sam ran forwards and Zemo, grabbing your hand swiftly, veered off into a small alley way, his hand never leaving yours as he ran. The sound of several footsteps followed close behind you, but before you could reach for your gun Zemo crowded you into a small alcove.

“What are you doing? They’ll see us here,” you angrily whispered. Your hand began to reach for your gun once more but Zemo stopped you.

“There’s too many of them,” he said quickly, peeking out from behind the alcove to spy on the approaching men.

“We’re sitting ducks here. I can probably get a few shots out if-”

All at once Zemo whipped back around and placed his index finger upon your lips to stop you from speaking.

“I’m truly sorry for this.”

For the second time that night Helmut Zemo’s lips were now upon yours, kissing you far more softly than you had kissed him before. His body was crowding yours against the wall of the alley way, his broad form easily shielding you. The footsteps got closer and closer, all the while you kept kissing the Baron. This time there was no tongue, just gentle lips upon yours as he kissed you tenderly and slowly.

That cologne you had first smelt that morning engulfed your senses now so that it was all you could smell. Your hands came up to grip at the fur collar of his coat, pulling him closer by the furred lapel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the softness of it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the approaching footsteps; how close they came to you before they past right by, the group of men not giving you a second glance as one shouted orders to the rest in a language you couldn't be bothered to recognise.

At some point Zemo's tongue ended up in your mouth, or maybe it was your tongue in his. Either way you couldn't recall who had initiated it, and couldn't quite find the effort to care. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek whilst the other became entangled within your hair, pulling at your roots slightly so that you moaned at the feeling.

You moaned.

Pushing the baron away from you you immediately put as much distance as you could between the two of you. His lips were red and swollen and you were quite sure yours looked the same, both panting slightly as the cold air illuminated your breaths.

You could feel your cheeks begin to redden immediately, and swiftly turned away from him to hide your embarrassment.

You could still hear the men who had been following you, their footsteps far quieter now as they continued down the alley.

“I think they’re gone,” you finally said, having allowed the awkward silence to grow palpable between you.

“Yes…yes I think you’re right,” he responded, not meeting your gaze.

The sound of footsteps coming down the alley filled your ears once more, and this time you didn’t hesitate as you pulled your gun from its holster.

“Woah, easy there tiger, it’s just us,” Sam said, his hands held upwards in a sign of surrender.

You let out a sigh as you saw them and immediately felt Zemo’s gaze fall upon you.

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #daniel brühl #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #MCU

118 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years ago

Note

Would you continue the villain nausea whumpee? To show how he is after he is removed from the chair? Do they set him free since he won’t be violent anymore ?

I loved the idea of Villain being set free, and ran with it a bit! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for the ask!!

This is a continuation from here, and, once again, the story below is below a read-more to prevent any accidental viewing of content that could trigger emetophobia very badly. I would hate for anyone to see it as they scroll past.

However, this time, the first scene is shown, as it contains no potentially triggering content.

CW//Emetophobia, graphic description of vomit, self-hatred, medical malpractice, low self esteem, hatred of former friends, Stockholm syndrome, whumpee liking whumper, minor eye whump mention, nausea

The auditorium crackled with the feedback of a thousand microphones, shoved towards the stage, frequencies battling and screeching against one another in chaotic choir. From a mass of bodies, of cameras and clattering boom mics, the wire spheres emerged in their dozens, all pointed centrally.

All pointed at the stage, and the podium that lived upon it, glistening in freshly-polished hardwood and media attention.

Behind the platform stood a figure, as equally basking in fame, and equally as glimmering. Upon their face, perfect white teeth glowed as freshly-fallen snow, pressed together in a wide grin.

In Hero’s eyes, it was pride that shone. The pride that came with accomplishment, with recognition, with glory, with perfect hair and thousand-dollar suits and the attention of the world, all upon their face. Their words.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here.” With a greeting alone, the world tucked back in hushed quiet. “Now, we will have plenty of time for questions later, but I wanted to start off with what has surely found itself on every headline this morning.”

A pause. The expected clamor erupted from the horde of media, incoherent shouting and stomping. A rioting crowd.

“Now, now.” It was a practiced ritual, between lion and tamer. “I will be taking all of your questions at the end, but let an old guy speak a little, first.”

Laughter queued.

“Well, then. I’m sure you’ve all seen the headlines-- you guys especially, you wrote them! But, for everyone at home, yes, the rumors are true. A villain is now loose in the city.”

A practiced gasp.

“And it’s a good thing! You see, for years, now, our in-house villainous psychology research has been working on a technique that they have dubbed Reaction-Based Morality Rehabilitation. Now, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

The hero leaned forward, hand cupping the microphone, playful smile clear upon their face.

“They gave me this paper, and it was like, 100 pages long. And I didn’t know half the words in it.” They backed up, smile remaining. “But, trust me when I say, those guys in R&D? They’re amazing. They know exactly what they’re doing, even if I don’t.

But, I won’t leave you hanging. I do understand the just of the procedure, even if I’m not so sure on the jargon.

It’s a very simple solution to a very complicated problem. I am a firm believer in the fact that people are not born as villains. We are all born as heroes. Some of us, through unfortunate means, however, turn rotten. Through this technique, however, me and Organization believe to have found a way to separate the villain from the person inside.

By using innovative methods of therapy, our psychologists are able to help villains reject their evil ways, all the way at the center of their neurology! We have heard many concerns about the possibility of relapses, of a villain turning sides upon their release. Yet, with this technique, changing sides is not a conscious choice. It is as much a thought process as it is a carefully embedded instinct.

Of course.” They straightened momentarily. “That does not mean we are simply allowing once of those who have harmed you return to our beautiful city unsupervised. We ensure you, multiple surveillance methods have been put in place. This is only a trial run.

We at Organization wish to think each and every one for your cooperation and participating in the beta test of this revolutionary new technique. If this run receives positive results, you can all think of villainy as a thing of the past!”

From the crowd emerged a cheer. A cheer for glory, for fame, for progress!

For the destruction of a foe.

For unquestioned success. A villain defeated!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Villain’s fingers brushed over the top of the kitchen’s oak-stained counter, kicking up enough dust to suffocate, even as their tightly pursed lips protected them from such.

This was a house.

Their fatigued, half-haunted gaze turned to move over the surrounding interior. The kitchen was fully-featured, oak accented with shimmering, mottled granite. Not that anyone had bothered to clean in the place. Beyond the room and its attached dining area, a step lower, a carpeted area was positioned, furnished in felt couches and a television.

But this was not a home.

With a scratching nail to their neck, the villain moved forward numbly, to the base of the stairs and up them. Beneath their skin, the tracking chip was an awful feeling. Buried just deep beneath that it could not be seen, yet shallow to the point that its presence was unyielding and unignorable. A constant itch, embedded between twitching folds of muscle.

Maybe they could take it out. Maybe with the right kitchen utensil-

Halfway up the stairs, they dropped, keeled over themself with sickly pea soup filling in the space behind their eyes. In an instant, their mind retreated desperately from the thought, or any semblance of it, even as their stomach heaved with the residual ghost of it.

The tracking chip was fine and they didn’t care about it and they wanted it to stay there forever because it wasn’t coming out.

Legs now taking on an appearance that ever so slightly more resembled gelatin, the villain leaned upon the railing, ascending with a considerable additional difficulty up the stairs. In the very brief tour they had been given, their bedroom had been identified as the dark spruce door at the hall’s end.

Moving to it was a struggle on its own, insides still twitching and squelching with the remnants of acute nausea. Yet, their agony was only internal. They made it, and, all the way, kept their mind empty. Thoughts clear.

Not thinking of anything that could make them fall.

The bedroom was a bedroom. A dust-coated vanity. A small attached restroom. A nightstand. A bed.

At the very least, the quilts had some color to them.

Struggling in an attempt not to clutch their own stomach-- an action that they had learned, time and time again, only made the organ flip-- Villain shuffled to the piece of furniture that had been designed for use when they slept. Dust coughed from beneath the covers as they lifted them, crawling under.

Laying down helped, at least in some slight way that may or may not have been a placebo. It meant they could close their eyes. Make unwise thoughts that much less likely to happen.

For a moment, Villain succeeded in blackness. A blank mind. A world unmarred by the horrible jolts within their brain, the firings of neurons, the innate jostling of their frontal cortex.

Yet, it only lasted a moment.

With a jerk, they curled to a fetal position, legs bent and tucked beneath arms. Their body struggled as though weeping, though they had long ago learned not to cry. It was terribly difficult to produce tears, after all, when the metal drew their eyes to unbroken wakefulness.

This was a nightmare. They were certain of it.

That had been their first thought, of course, when the news of their liberation had been shared with them-- after it had been shared with the wider public. Things did not reach their cell very quickly. They had believed it to be a dream, for there was no other possible explanation.

Villains did not deserve freedom. They knew that. Violent little scumbags.

When they had been driven to the house, that was when the orinique connotations in their mind had flipped-- when dream turned to nightmare.

It was their home. Such had been stated clearly, so many times. Upon a thousand channels of media syndication. They had been given the keys, had stared at them for an agonizing moment. Watched them dangle between their fingers.

Hero had practically had to shove them through the doors, and even so, their attempts at escape ceased only after the fourth time they had been reprimanded for them.

Somewhere, something mechanical twitched. Moved. Buzzed. One of the cameras. They knew they were here, obvious, blocky, black eyes. At the very least, they provided some semblance of comfort.

Of home.

Of safety.

Oh, how desperately Villain wanted to go home. Everything had made so much sense there! Was so fantastically, wonderfully simple! If they were placed in their cell, they stayed in their cell. If offered food, they ate. When seated in their chair, they watched.

It was so easy. So invariable. Strict and stringently controlled, as the life of any vile beast who called themself a villain should be. Not a chance they could make a mistake, that they could do anything wrong. Only the slightest opportunities for their mind to slip, their thoughts to wander, to go somewhere bad.

Somewhere that would send them to their hands and knees, heaving and retching.

Food came often, with how difficult it was to keep it down. They’d counted once. Certainly the chefs must have become tired after preparing thirteens meals in a single day. Yet, in the end, they had only managed to fully digest one.

Especially since that was only the day on which they had counted-- it certainly wasn’t notable.

Now, there were no chefs. No cells. No chairs. No screens to watch. Order was gone, and chaos reigned.

Terrible, bloody chaos.

The house was far too large. So many times, Villain had begged for a schedule. For orders. For what they were meant to do-- when to get up, when to go to sleep, what to do inbetween.

Yet, the answers always came the same: A shrug, and four terrible words. “Whatever you want to.”

That which they wanted was not that which should be carried out! They were a villain! A terrible, retched thing! A monster! A devil! Their thoughts deserved no attention, their wants deserved only the click of the IV.

The sickness.

Somehow, despite the inherent maleficence that it most certainly carried with it, an idea manged to work its way through the folds of their brain. A thought. A plan.

A good one. One that did not incite their stomach to heaving.

Certainly, if they laid here, in this bed, then their freedom could not lead to the harm of anyone else. The world would remain safe, regardless of their liberty. And, when the cameras at last noticed, the heroes would be forced to return. To bring them back to the cell and the chair. To return them to where they belonged.

It was perfect-- though that wasn’t to say that anything they created could possibly be good.

Thus, they put the plan into action. Beneath the chains that were covers, upon the chair that was a bed, Villain waited.

Their plan worked for perhaps an hour.

An hour. Then the door was kicked in. This time, that which seized their chest had nothing to do with nausea, nothing to do with conditioning. Everything to do with terror.

Even their wildest dreams, their most optimistic ambitions, did not expect that the heroes would have come so soon. If they had, they would have knocked.

They curled tighter into their fetal position, fingers gripping skin until both turned white. Desperation and willpower, even together, could not stop their mind from tracking the noises as they moved through the house. Through the kitchen. The living room. Up the stairs. To the hallway outside.

Certainly, they would have noticed the lack of dust on the bedroom’s doorknob.

Perhaps it was a member of the public, come to take their righteous revenge. Such would certainly be deserved. Or, perhaps, a wayward hero, disliking the arrangement that had been made. Having decided to take the matter to their own hands. They deserved that, as well.

But, when the voice came, Villain knew that their hopes were as far as could be from the truth.

“Villain?”

Blank mind. Don’t think. Blank mind. Don’t think. Blank mind don’t think.

Beneath the blanket, they twitched.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Footsteps dashed to the bedside. Hands upon them. There was such a wholehearted relief to the voice, an unimaginable burden relieved.

Yet, such was impossible, as villains did not have hearts.

“We were so worried, so, so worried. You have no idea! Come on, come on.”

A hand, to the top of the blanket.

“There’s about a thousand cameras in here, buddy, so we need to get going. Everyone at base has been so nervous, all day. Ever since we heard... My car’s just outside, we need to go, quick.”

Villain’s only solace was torn away.

“Buddy? What’s wrong?” The voice was practically a whisper. “It’s me. It’s-

Supervillain.”

A blank mind, filled with thoughts.

The initial strike of nausea was enough to make them wail, even as they had no ability to. They hardly remembered getting to their hands and knees, hardly remembered as they began to heave. No. They registered only the horrid, green-and-brown mess that exploded upon the pale white bedspread.

Again, again, a thousand exhausting times, the heaving struck them, until chunky vomit was spilling off the side of the bed, ruining the antique carpeting. It only ceased to spill when their insides were well and truly empty.

That was when they were picked up.

It was a caring, warm hold, tucking them close to the chest of a vile demon. Yet, they had not the slightest ounce of energy to resist. Any muscles not exhausted by fatigue went back to work, heaving and coughing, even as nothing more emerged.

“I’m sorry.” With a broken voice, Supervillain spoke. “I’m so, so sorry. Let’s go back to base, okay? Everything’s going to be okay, I promise, I promise, buddy.”

No.

With evil like this in the world, nothing was even going to be okay again.

#villain whumpee #whump #whumpblr #medical whump #doctor whumper #hero whumper #hero x villain #hero villain whump #whump community

80 notes · View notes

cxsmicmyeon · 4 years ago

Text

HAPPY NEW YEAR , OSH [M]

oh sehun x fem! reader

IN WHICH you're forced to go to your best friend's giant new year's eve party, only to hit it off with someone who equally doesn't want to be there.

genre: college au! fluff and smut (toward the end) word count: 5.0k warnings: stupid jokes, swearing, sexual content, dirty talk, cunnilingus

author's note: MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. also this is cross-posted from ao3 (i wrote it back in january for the new year lol). feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

Ugh.

That was the only word that came to mind as you navigated your way through the banquet hall. You grumbled to yourself as you adjusted your dress for the fifteenth time that night, resulting in your clutch dropping onto the floor. You resisted the urge to shout an expletive as you bent to pick the small bag up, which only resulted in your dress moving to that stupid spot that you didn't want it to go. A soft 'God' slipped from your lips as you adjusted your dress once again, this time gripping your clutch tightly in your right hand. Once you were contented, you resumed your trek to the venue you tried hopelessly to avoid.

Tonight was your best friend's annual New Year's Eve extravaganza. Normally you'd be a bit more willing to attend, as these parties were usually limited to 20-30 people in either her parent's house or your shared apartment, but apparently she found the need to rent out an entire fucking rooftop penthouse room filled to the brim with alcohol, hors d'oeuvres and packed with every single student that went to your college.

To put it rather bluntly, you hated the party scene that came with college. The thought of being at some fraternity with obnoxiously loud music shaking the entire house, an entire mass of sweaty drunk people doing God knows what and random couples eating each other's faces off was unappealing to be a part of. Maybe it sounds rather prudish, but you highly preferred nights in with a bottle of wine on your coffee table and Netflix queued up on the next episode of your favorite show or your laptop open to continue writing your novel over an en masse of horny and drunk people shoving you around the living room of someone's house.

Your best friend, on the other hand, lived for partying. Every Saturday night not spent studying, she'd beg you to come to the party her boyfriend or classmate was having. And after your declination and 'Don't have too much fun!" she'd return the next morning with a giant hangover with (on some occasions) hickeys on her neck that looked like vampire bites. By now, you were used to her drunk texts at 3 am and having to hold up her hair every time she puked her guts out. And these were reasons that simply fueled your hatred for large parties.

New Year's Eve was your only exception for large parties (mostly). Back in high school, her parents allowed her to invite you and a few classmates over for what they called a 'New Year's Sleepover.' You liked those well enough simply because they were rather small, you knew everyone there and you even got to steal a drink of champagne from the wine closet. As you entered college, the past two parties became a tad more crowded but were still bearable in your eyes. But this year, the New Year's Eve of your junior year, took the cake. Exams were a lot more rigorous this year and to celebrate everyone getting through it, your idiot of a best friend used practically all of her savings to rent out the largest rooftop venue in your area for what she called 'the New Year's party that'll fuck any other party in the ass.' She sent invites to the entire student body (which, naturally, 95% of them RSVP'ed to). While you tried your best to stop her, she persisted. And when you begged her to let you stay at home, she persisted yet again. So here you were, bracing yourself for a night of... honestly you had no clue.

You stopped in front of the entrance of the large room, your breath hitching in your throat. The music was from a genre you weren't familiar with, the bar was blocked by a large crowd and your best friend was nowhere to be seen. Slightly turning around from the disaster waiting to happen, you took in a deep breath before turning back and entering.

The stench of champagne and sweat immediately made you recoil and question your decision for even coming. You internally scoffed as you shifted through the crowd to find your best friend. You softly muttered 'excuse me' to every person you passed (or accidentally shoved) as you begged whoever was in the sky that your best friend was near. You struck gold when you saw her sprawled out on a loveseat surrounded by her boyfriend and others you didn't know by name. You pushed through a few more people before stopping in front of the group. Your best friend turned around immediately and let out a loud squeal.

"Heyyy!" she slurred as she threw her arm around you. You rolled your eyes as a smile etched itself onto your face, knowing she was already drunk as hell.

"Hiiii..." you responded, replicating her energy. She let out a loud howl of laughter as she led you to a small table next to the sofa. She picked up a plastic flute filled with champagne and practically shoved it in your hand. You laughed as she grabbed a red plastic cup from her boyfriend's hand.

"A toast, to the New Year!" she bellowed as she clinked your glass and her cup together.

"Happy New Year!" You responded. She snickered as she led you to sit down on the sofa.

"Hey (Y/N), Happy New Year!"

"You too, Baekhyun." You clinked your glass with your best friend's boyfriend's glass and took a sip of the fizzy drink. You let out a breath you were unaware you were holding in as the familiar taste of champagne washed over your tastebuds. Even if you were dreading tonight, you couldn't deny the free food and drinks being made available.

Quickly you were introduced and re-introduced to a bunch of Baekhyun's friends. They were nice enough, sure, but you found their energy to be a bit much (especially paired with the excess of alcohol that they all consumed). Luckily, you gave the group the excuse that you needed another drink and left them to their own accords.

After taking a second flute of champagne from the bar, you found yourself wandering onto the balcony. Luckily for you, it was completely deserted. With a small smile, you shut the sliding door and wandered toward the metal railing, slowly sipping your champagne. Setting the plastic flute and your clutch down on a nearby table, you readjusted your dress (yes, again) and slipped your heels off, sighing in relief that your feet were finally free from those restrictive shoes. You felt a chill down your spine as your feet touched the bare ground, stepping a couple of times in place to help adjust to the temperature. You took the champagne glass from off of the table and lifted it to your lips, taking another sip as you looked out into the night sky.

You took a deep breath as you finally felt yourself relax. The music from inside the venue was muffled a great deal and the cold temperature the winter night brought was a comforting contrast to the heat from inside the building coupled with the crowd of sweaty college students. The sky was thankfully clear from any clouds, so you were able to enjoy the comforting presence that the waning gibbous moon coupled with the scattered stars brought. Taking another sip of your champagne, you took a few steps until you felt the cold metal of the railing. You leaned slightly forward as you continued looking and admiring the sky, feeling surprisingly at peace considering your location.

Soon enough you realized that someone else has also decided to leave the party, as you heard the music grow louder then muffled again. You turned to see a tall man around your age typing quickly on his phone with a red plastic cup in his other hand. A tall, attractive man at that.

He wore a simple oversized gray hoodie coupled with a pair of blue jeans. His jet black hair appeared tousled underneath his dark beanie, and suddenly you felt a tad overdressed. You couldn't help but ogle at how his brows furrowed in concentration as he continued looking down at his phone, how eerily well-defined his jawline was- wait, scratch that- how his entire face was well-defined. You couldn't help but mutter 'damn...' to yourself as you looked away for a second to gather your thoughts. When you looked over at him again, he was staring in your direction. Immediately you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as he walked a little closer to you.

"Hi, sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting your vibe or anything." he said softly.

"Oh, don't worry about it, you're good. 'S long as you're not loud or annoying." you joked in response. He let out a short laugh as he downed the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup next to your clutch. You took a small sip of your champagne and turned back to look at the sky. Absentmindedly, you placed the glass down onto the balcony, not realizing that the bars were too narrow to support the bottom of the glass. You looked down in utter shock as the glass made its descent down the building. You covered your mouth with your hands when the glass shattered before your eyes on the ground below. Turning around you saw the man pursing his lips together in an attempt to hold back a laugh. When he looked back at you, you couldn't help but let out a loud giggle. He doubled down with laughter at the event, which only made you laugh harder.

"Jesus fucking Christ, how tragic." you chuckled. The man covered his mouth to try and conceal his louder waves of laughter; the sound intensifying your own laughter. Eventually, you let out a loud sigh in an attempt to calm yourself down. The man coughed into his elbow and cleared his throat, effectively calming himself down.

"You want another one of those?" he asked, pointing to the mess of glass shards and wasted champagne well below them.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though," you responded with a smile. He nodded, looking around the area for a second. "Huh, it's clear you don't wanna be here either."

He let out a playful scoff as he stretched his arms. "How'd you know?"

"'Cause you're out here with some random ass girl you don't even know when you could be among that sweaty-ass crowd of other people you don't even know." you deadpanned. He chuckled at your joke, which made you smile a bit as a result.

"I'm Sehun, by the way." he said, holding his hand out in front of you.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you." You replied, shaking his hand. You felt your heart skip a beat at the contact; his hands were slightly calloused but surprisingly soft at the same time. You unconsciously squeezed his hand before pulling away, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as you blushed slightly.

"So... how'd you get invited to this? I think like every student was invited." Sehun inquired.

"Oh, my best friend actually was the one who invited everyone. Obviously I had to show up 'cause she is my best friend. Even if I loathe the idea of hundreds of loud, drunk college kids gathered in one giant venue with music I don't even like to listen to. But it's cool, though. 'Least there's a balcony out here for some peace and quiet," you explained. "How about you?"

"I came with my brother. One of his friends I believe is dating your best friend? So, obviously, he insisted I come with." he responded.

You let out a short laugh at his response. "Baekhyun is her boyfriend."

"Right... Yeah, they're pretty close."

"Oh sick, I may know him. What's his name?"

"Jongin."

"Oh, Jongin! Yeah, I know him. He's pretty nice." Sehun nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, a lot of people know him. Obviously. He's so popular. He's so handsome. Loads of girls and guys wanna get into his pants 'cause he's such a good dancer. Everyone loves Jongin. Meanwhile, when people find out we're related, they always ask 'Oh you're so quiet! You're so different from Jongin!' Well sorry I don't party 24/7 and actually study a lot so I can get my degree!" Sehun ranted. You were stunned at his sudden anger. A soft expression made its way onto your face as you wanted nothing but to quell his fury.

"I'm so sorry, I know that's a lot to unload on a complete stranger. I'll go back in now." Sehun began to make his way back inside before you grabbed his arm, stopping his movement. He turned around with a shocked expression present on his face.

"Shh. Don't worry about it at all. I get your frustration, honestly. I know what it's like to get those comments. It fucking sucks, I know. But can I say something? I've known Jongin for a few months and you for like a half-hour and wanna know something? I feel a lot more comfortable around you than him. Again, he's a good guy and all, but a little much at times. I vibe better with more reserved people honestly." you reassured, giving his arm a small squeeze before letting go. His face lit up at your comment. A grin etched itself on his face as he walked back to his previous spot.

"So. Who is Sehun 'I-Don't-Know-Your-Last-Name-So-Fuck-This-Bit-Isn't-Gonna-Work?' You do go to ISU, right?" you asked, grinning.

"It's Oh. And yes, I do go to ISU." Sehun responded.

"Okay, hi Sehun Oh. I'm (Y/N) (L/N). And holy shit we go to the same school! How come we've never run into each other?"

"Hi, (Y/N) (L/N). Also, I'm a chem major, is your major different?"

"Oh, no wonder! My major's secondary English education. Science is on the opposite side of campus, right?"

"Yeah. We should totally hang out sometime. Well, when we're not escaping a large ass party." You let out a giggle at his quip, which caused him to blush and rub the back of his neck.

"I'd like that a lot," You gave him a warm smile, resulting in a warm blush spreading across your face. Sehun smiled sheepishly in return, looking down at his feet again.

"So... uh... wait, shit. I'm not good with small talk, sorry." he rambled, folding his hands together while twiddling his thumbs.

"Don't worry, neither am I. Uh... I dunno... Wait, I got it. What do you do besides studying since you don't like to party 24/7 like the icon you are?" You and Sehun began giggling softly as he put his hands on his hips.

"Well, I actually dance. Jongin and I have been taking lessons since we were kids. And, uh... my friend Chanyeol and I composed a couple of songs together for his music class a while back. And I made up choreography for one of them."

You felt your jaw drop at Sehun's answer. "You dance and make music? That's so fucking sick! You literally became 10 times cooler than you already are. Uh, not that you weren't cool to begin with... but, uh, making music and dancing is hard! Honestly, kudos to you."

"Thanks," he said, grinning sheepishly. "How 'bout you?"

"Well... I read a lot, I write a lot, I'm finishing up my second novel, uh... that's it, I guess. Well, besides studying."

"Hold on. You've written a whole novel? You're calling me 'the cool one' when you wrote a novel? And you have another one in progress? You're amazing," You swore you were going to faint. "Now you have to show me."

"Do I have to?" you pouted.

"Pleeeeaseeeee? Please, please, please?" Sehun whined.

"Hm... I have a proposition for you. Show me your choreography and your song and maybe I'll let you read a few chapters of my first novel."

"Deal."

"Well damn, okay. Show me the song first."

Sehun nodded and took his phone out of his pocket. He spent a few seconds typing and scrolling before setting it down on the table.

"Uh, it's called 'We Young,'" Sehun stated quickly before tapping the middle of his phone screen. He backed up from the table and straightened himself out. You focused your attention on him as the song began playing from his phone. You let out a soft 'ooh,' immediately being intrigued and fascinated by the melody of the piano and the drum beats chosen. As you heard Sehun sing from the phone, he closed his eyes and felt himself get lost in his dance.

Your jaw dropped at the sight. Watching the way his fluid movements intricately matched the rhythm of his song was like watching a flurry of snow getting caught in a gust of wind. His passion for the craft was full-on displayed right in front of you. Every single movement he made perfectly encapsulated the message of his song. The way he bobbed his head for a few seconds before jumping straight into the chorus while mouthing the lyrics kept your attention. You simply couldn't look away.

'God, the way he moves his hips. I so wouldn't mind him moving those hips against my-'

You shook your head at your thoughts. Sure, Sehun was nice. And really hot. And also really easy to talk to. But would he be comfortable with doing anything with you? You did not want to push anything onto him, even if it meant you had to repress any thoughts you had about him maybe fucking you against the railing like the world was going to end. Or feeling those large hands cup your breast and rub your clit simultaneously. Maybe.

Before you knew it, Sehun stopped his dance and paused the song. "So... what did you think?" Sehun's voice snapped you out of your trance, feeling yourself blush due to your inappropriate thoughts. You shook your head lightly and turned to face him.

"What did I think? What did I think? Holy shit, that was... that was amazing! You are so fucking talented, it's unreal!" you exclaimed while clapping your hands softly. He grinned at your response, happy that you liked the song and dance.

"Okay, (Y/N)'s novel time! Yay!" he cheered. You playfully rolled your eyes as you opened up your clutch to take your phone out. You unlocked it and pulled up Google Docs, opening up your manuscript to show him.

"So this is the final manuscript of my first novel, titled 'Neckties and Rosé'. It's a cheesy, romantic, sexy, angsty mess of an office romance. Or, to put it lightly, angstier and sexier Jim and Pam from 'The Office.'" you explained. Sehun nodded and giddily took the phone out of your hands.

He began to dramatically read the prologue of the book. As he read, you were alternating between laughing hysterically at the various voices he gave the different characters and whining due to his teasing of the actions of the characters. You also noticed that he was enjoying himself thoroughly, much to your delight. You felt as if you were around one of your closest friends rather than a complete stranger at the moment, sharing similar humor and personality traits.

"'While Cordelia angrily slammed her car door, she swore she saw Rocky throw her a cocky smirk through the rearview mirror, which only added fuel to the dumpster fire that was her hazed state of mind.' And that concludes the prologue of 'Neckties and Rosé.'" Sehun announced, locking your phone and handing it back to you.

"So... whaddya think?" you asked shyly, looking down at your feet.

"(Y/N)... that was so fucking great! It sounded like you've been writing for like a thousand years rather than it being your first novel. Damn, you're amazing. Please send me it when you can, I wanna read the rest!" he praised, grinning at you. You couldn't help but return his smile, a jovial feeling igniting inside.

After a beat, you turned your phone on to look at the time: 11:59 PM.

"Oh shit, it's almost midnight!" you exclaimed, showing Sehun the time.

"Oh, wow. I honestly thought it was still 10-ish."

Soon enough, you began to hear the crowd inside count down from thirty, signaling the close arrival of the New Year. You bashfully looked at Sehun as you began twiddling your fingers together.

"Can I say something?" you questioned, earning a nod from the dark-haired male. "I... I've never had a New Year's kiss."

"Um, me neither, actually."

"D-d'you want to... I mean, if you're comfortable of course."

"Uh, yeah, sure. I kind of wanted to ask earlier, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to kiss me."

"Trust me, I would be honored to kiss you." You walked closer to Sehun until your bodies were centimeters apart.

"Three!"

You blushed as Sehun wrapped his toned arms around your waist. A jolt of electricity pulsed through your body at the contact, causing you to put your hands on the back of his neck.

"Two!"

He gave you a small smile as you stood on your tippy-toes, mentally preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

"One!"

You closed your eyes as you slowly leaned in for the kiss.

"Happy New Year!"

The moment your lips touched his, you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside of you. The scent of his musky cologne filled your nose as you kissed back with equal fervor. Sehun let out a groan as you entangled your fingers through his dark locks. His hand snaked down your back and cupped a handful of your ass, causing you to moan in his mouth. He took the opportunity to bite your lip lightly and put his tongue in your mouth. You cupped his cheek and pressed yourself even closer to him, practically getting drunk on the scent of his cologne and the subtle taste of beer on his lips.

"Yooo! Get some, (Y/N) and Sehun!"

You regrettably pulled away from Sehun as you turned to the door separating the balcony and the inside of the venue. You saw a drunk Baekhyun being held up by your equally tipsy best friend and one of his taller friends, also with the boys you recognized from earlier in the night. You felt yourself turn red as you buried your face in your hands.

"Girlie, no worries! Get some tonight! Lord knows ya need it!" your best friend slurred before letting out a loud hiccup.

"Same goes for you, Sehun!" another one of Baekhyun's friends jeered, earning a soft 'Ugh' from the taller male next to you. The boys began laughing and teasing Sehun as you collected your shoes and clutch, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"You wanna get out of here?" You heard Sehun whisper in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

"God, yes."

The boys and your best friend erupted into whoops and cheers as Sehun took your hand into his and led you back inside of the banquet hall. He held you close as you pushed past the larger crowd of drunk college students. Luckily you successfully left the venue unscathed and made your way to the elevator, out of breath and silently giggling.

"Wait, fuck. I don't have my car with me." you muttered as you followed Sehun inside of the elevator.

"I have mine, don't worry." Sehun responded before capturing your lips again. You uttered a soft moan as you pressed him against the back wall of the elevator. He broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"God, I could take you right here baby. You're so fucking hot." he mused, nipping at your neck. You whimpered in pleasure as he sucked your sweet spot and palmed your ass until the doors of the elevator opened. He took your hand into his and led you out of the shaft, out of the building and to his car.

It took every fiber of your being to resist shoving Sehun into the backseat of his car and fucking him right there. He insisted on taking you to his apartment for, in his words, 'a lot more privacy.' The ride over to his place was silent yet filled to the brim with sexual tension. As he drove, you held back a moan as he placed his big hand on your thigh and almost ordered to stop the car as his fingers slowly yet surely moved toward your clothed core.

As soon as you entered the apartment, his lips were immediately on yours again. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he hoisted your legs up so you could wrap them around his waist. Impressed by his strength and flexibility, you cupped his cheeks in the palms of your hands and deepened the kiss.

He brought you into his bedroom and slammed the door before laying you down onto his bed. He looked at you with hooded eyes as he pulled his hoodie off and discarded it to the side. You reached your hands under his t-shirt, feeling the smooth outline of his abs before pulling it over his head. You ogled at how his chest shone under the moonlight, indistinctly licking your lips as you put your hair back. He wrapped his arms around you, leaving butterfly kisses along your neck and jawline as he unzipped your dress.

You shifted away from Sehun to slide your dress down your legs and toss it across the room. His eyes flew down to your braless chest, a small smirk toying with his features.

“No bra? You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” A smart remark got stuck on your tongue as he latched his lips onto your left breast. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he brought his hand to your other breast, massaging it gently. You threw your head back in absolute bliss. How were you getting this wet from him simply touching you?

Sehun laid you down on the bed, giving you a lingering kiss before pulling your panties down your legs.

“Wet for me already, hm?” Sehun hummed as he grazed a finger down your folds. He let out a contented hum as he lowered himself down between your legs, spreading your thighs apart while licking your arousal off his finger.

“Oh God, Sehun!” you moaned out as he slid his tongue between your folds. He eagerly began licking your dripping cunt, groaning softly as he tasted you for the first time. You fisted a handful of his jet black hair as he alternated between sucking on your clit and lapping your juices like a man starved.

"You taste so fucking good," he cooed, the vibration of his voice between your legs sending a jolt of electricity down to your center. You felt your orgasm creep closer and closer the more he ate you out.

"S-Sehun, I'm gonna..." you cried out. Right as you were on the cusp of coming all over Sehun's beautiful face, he stopped his ministrations and looked back up at you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. You whined as he wiped your juices off of his chin, slipping his digits into his mouth. Your jaw dropped at the sight; here this gorgeous man was, licking your arousal off his long fingers. It drove you bonkers.

"Shh, you're not gonna cum unless it's all over my cock. I want your pretty cunt wrapped around me as you cum, got that baby?" You nodded with a whine as Sehun walked over to his bedside drawer. He opened it and took out a condom, ridding himself of his pants and boxer briefs as he walked back to you.

"Mmmh, hurry up, I need you inside of me," you croaked, watching Sehun stroke his half-hard cock, eliciting another moan. He tossed you the golden package, which you happily ripped open.

"So needy," he scoffed. You stuck your tongue out at him while you rolled the condom onto his cock, palming him swiftly. He hissed as he aligned himself to your entrance, wrapping his arms around you. "Ready?"

"Just fuck me already."

With a click of his tongue, Sehun quickly pushed himself inside of you. You gasped as he filled you, blissfully stretching your walls in the most perfect way. Never have you had a partner who made you feel this good, made you feel so full. Your eyes shut in pure pleasure as he began to move. His thrusts started off slow but gradually picked up the pace; each movement filled with utmost care. He cradled you as if you were made of porcelain, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as possible.

"Christ, (Y/N), you're so fucking tight. So pretty wrapped around my cock."

"Fuck," You felt yourself being brought back to the brink of your orgasm as he continued his languid thrusts inside you. "Sehun, I'm close."

He hummed as his thrusts became sloppier, feeling his own orgasm coming close as well. You opened your eyes to see Sehun's face contorted in pleasure as he moved inside of you. The sight made you come undone, your body clenching around his cock as you felt juts of white-hot pleasure seep from your center to his cock. His movements became sloppier and sloppier before he filled the condom with his own release, grunting loudly at the sensation.

You breathed heavily as you came down from your high. Sehun pulled out of you and stood to dispose of the condom as you relished in what just happened. You turned to see him bringing a box of tissues over to you, almost swooning at the sight.

"Thank you," you hummed as he cleaned you up. He nodded, placing a chaste kiss onto your sweaty forehead before disposing of the tissues. He took your panties and one of his t-shirts from off the floor and handed both articles of clothing to you. You thanked him silently as you pulled the material over your head, relishing in how the shirt smelled just like him.

He climbed into bed after putting on a fresh set of boxers, beckoning you to come closer to him. You sighed in contentment as he cuddled close to you, feeling your eyes close as soon as he wrapped the duvet around the both of you.

#exo #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo smut #exo fanfic #exo au #oh sehun #sehun #sehun scenario #sehun smut #sehun exo #exo sehun #sehun x reader #sehun x you #exo college au #sehun fanfic #sehun fanfiction #sehun fic

209 notes · View notes

bts-bay-bee · 4 years ago

Text

Skype

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2100

Warnings: prof!tae (please don’t fuck your professors guys), skype sex (MS Teams sex? Zoom sex?), mutual masturbation, sex toys (vibrating wand), Sir kink, voyeurism kink (I think?), degradation (slight)

Summary: having a long-term fuckbuddy probably shouldn’t coincidentally be your professor

A/N: this is totally not inspired by me getting horny in a lecture and letting my mind wander. If you enjoyed reading this, please let me know! I appreciate any and all feedback :)

***

“To successfully complete this course, you need to demonstrate an understanding of chemistry on an industrial scale. You are already aware of the numerous factors that may influence a chemical reaction, only – of course – are applicable if the scenario states that the given reaction is in unsteady-state…”

You really should be paying attention, considering that this course could make or break your future, but you just could not concentrate; not when he had the audacity to look this good during a lecture. Wishing you could lean through the screen and touch him again, you bit your lip, reminiscing in all those nights and stolen hours at campus when you could freely run your hands over his broad shoulders, his hard chest, then trailing further down –

“Miss L/N? What’s the answer to the question?” He asked, voice abrupt as to not give anything away. You cleared your throat, realizing that he was definitely going to berate you for not paying attention.

“I’m sorry, Professor Kim, I didn’t catch the question.” You lied, looking at the screen as he rolled his eyes at your excuse. “Could you please repeat it, Sir?”

The effects of your slight teasing could be seen almost immediately: his jaw clenched, showing off his incredibly defined jawline, and he licked his lips for less than a second. No one would have noticed his sudden strange behaviour, that is, unless they were looking for it. Which, of course, you were.

“What are the degrees of freedom in the first extractor?” He asked, the look in his eyes unfathomable. Quickly doing a mental equation, you hesitantly answered him.

“Zero?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” He snapped back, making you squirm in your seat. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, your classmates no doubt saying some not-so-nice things about the way he has spoken to you, but you know not to take it to heart.

“The degrees of freedom are zero, Sir.” You responded, trying to keep the meekness out of your voice. You wanted him so desperately – you have not seen him since your university had enforced online learning, which had been a few weeks ago. Going from seeing him every day (well, doing more than just seeing him) to going to a couple weeks with nothing more than just seeing him on your screen had been hard. As much as you did not want to admit it, you actually missed him.

“Now because the degrees of freedom of the isolated system are zero, we can use the law of conservation of mass to solve for any unknowns.” He said to the class, before checking the time on his watch. “Which I expect to be done before the next time I see you, because we are out of time for today.”

You sighed as you saw many people leave the call at once, not wanting to say goodbye to him just yet, even if this was the professor side of him. “Miss L/N stay on the call. I need to discuss something with you.”

Immediately perking your head up with interest, you stayed on the call silently, eyeing him out shamelessly. Now that he had the luxury of lecturing from his home, he had been dressing a lot more laidback, which was not uncommon for you to see. He did after all dress casually when he came over, or you went over to his, but after a long time without his touch… Every little thing just made him more desirable.

“Baby?” He called when he was sure no one else was on the call except you two. You looked up at him, being forced to actually comprehend what he was saying, instead of just staring at his every detail. “We spoke about you paying attention in class, Jagi.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “But I do pay attention to you, Tae.”

“You pay attention to me, not what I’m saying.” He chuckled, seeing you pout at his chastising words. “I told you this is a hard course, Y/N. Why don’t you want to pay attention to me? Am I a boring lecturer?”

“I just miss you a lot.” You whispered, not looking into at the screen. Unbeknown to you, his eyes somehow went softer at your confession.

“You know I miss you more, babe.” He responded, smiling slightly. “Is that why you decided to rile me up?”

“I didn’t do anything.” You murmured, already knowing where this was going. This was much easier than expressing just how much your heart ached due to not seeing him for so long. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sir.”

“God, you’re still such a brat.” He groaned, throwing his head back slightly as he sighed. “And you’re wearing that fucking shirt, again.”

“But no one saw me today, except you –”

“And the entire class.” He scowled. “I can guarantee that Jeon is probably jacking off right now to the memory of your tits.”

“Aww, you’re jealous, Tae?” You teased, pulling down your self-admittedly lowcut tank top even further. “You think Jungkook’s touching himself because of this?”

You ran your fingertips over your now exposed nipples, the buds now stiff and erect due to the cool air, as well as your lack of a bra. He bit his lower lip, gnawing on it to prevent him from groaning. He had sported a semi the entire lecture, his cock stirring at the sight of your cleavage and the needy look on your face.

“Baby, stop, anyone can still come into the call.” He murmured, eyes trained on your much smaller fingers twisting and gently tugging on your nipples to stimulate them further.

“I don’t care.” You breathlessly replied, trailing your fingertips over the waistband of your shorts, slowly pushing them off to reveal the tiniest piece of fabric covering your slit. “Let them see how much of a slut I am for you.”

He couldn’t help himself – he let out a low groan, a murmur of appreciation, at the dark patch on your underwear. Feeling his cock beginning to harden further at the sight of you offering yourself up to him, he began palming himself through his sweatpants.

“Do you still have that toy I bought you?” He asked, abandoning any and all pretence about stopping you from touching yourself. You smirked at this, knowing that there was no way that he would try to stop you after seeing how wet you were. If anything, his sex drive was much higher than your own.

“Of course, Sir.” You purred, leaning over and grabbing the vibrating wand that he had gifted you for one of your birthdays. “I use it every day thinking about your cock.”

“And what do you think about, princess?” He encouraged, shifting his sweats slightly so that he could pull out his hardened member. You felt his eyes burn into you through the screen as you peeled off your panties, your arousal visible through the thick, sticky strands of slickness that clung to your slit.

“I think about how Sir fucks me so good,” You replied, whimpering at the sight of his red-tipped cock in his fist. “How you fuck me stupid, until I’m shaking, until my cum is dripping out of me. How my pussy can’t handle how long and thick your cock is.”

“Do you miss my cock, sweetheart?” He murmured, his fingers slick with lube and his precum to help him glide his fist over his pulsating cock to the thought of you. He heard you switch the wand on, his stomach twisting at the thought of someone clicking the ‘join’ button to innocently ask him a question and seeing this compromising scene. It somehow sent another rush of blood to his dick, making him wince from not properly touching himself to relieve some of the ache.

“So much, Sir.” You whined, truthfully, hovering the wand over the tip of your engorged clit, barely giving yourself any stimulation; you knew you needed his permission to touch yourself. “I miss your cock so much. I miss choking on it.”

“My good girl,” He groaned, seeing how you had restrained yourself to please him, “Do you want to touch yourself?”

“Yes, Sir.” You breathed, your throat drying as your hand vibrated against the handle of the wand. “Please let me touch my pussy. I want to show you how much my cunt misses you.”

He nodded, silently giving you the go ahead to touch yourself. Immediately you placed the wand onto your clitoris, a sigh of relief leaving your slightly parted lips as the vibrations finally made contact with your sensitive skin. Almost simultaneously Taehyung began actually pumping his cock, wanting to almost simulate the feeling of having you with him.

Both of you did not take your gazes off of one another – it felt like it had been millennia since you had last heard his deep, guttural groans. Your eyes ravaged the image on screen, using every ounce of your imagination to make yourself believe that he was here instead of this stupid wand.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, throwing his head back as his fist continuously worked over his length. Seeing the veins and flushed tip of his cock had you whining, turning the wand onto a higher setting to help you reach your climax faster. He heard this and smirked, the louder vibrations meeting his ears. “Do you want to cum that badly?”

“Uh-huh, want to cum for you.” You whined, rocking against the toy slightly. “Let me use my fingers, Sir, please.”

“You can, baby.” He cooed, veins on his forearm now prominent from the amount of work it had been doing. “Use your fingers to get off on the idea of Sir.”

Digits already prodding at your slick entrance, you hurriedly pushed two fingers into your heat, sighing at the waves of pleasure washing over you.

“Spread your legs more, I want to see your cunt.” He grunted, fist moving faster as his climax steadily built. Obeying him wordlessly, you opened your legs as much as you could, your glistening folds meeting his marvelling gaze. His eyes never left your entrance, where two of your fingers had been repeatedly fucking into your sopping entrance. “Add another finger, Jagi.”

“A-Another one-e?” You stuttered out, the addictive feeling of an oncoming orgasm rendering you speechless. He let out a string of curses at your fucked-out expression, irritation bubbling inside him because it was not him who had made you feel that way.

“Your slutty cunt can take it.” He growled, pumping his length faster as he felt his balls tighten. Without thinking, you slipped another finger into you, the appendage gliding smoothly into your wet, slippery heat.

The noises and whines that left your parched throat were simply inhumane, the sounds too high-pitched and needy to be coming from you. Switching the wand to the highest setting, you immediately felt your back arch, the intense and almost violent vibrations, sending unending euphoric waves over you.

“S-Sir, please let me cum!” You begged, knowing that there would be punishment if you came without his permission. As much as you loved getting punished by him, you needed your release now. “P-Please!”

“God, you’re such a good whore! Always so fucking obedient.” He snapped, bucking into his hand without realising. “Cum for me, baby.”

Relief flooded your being as he gave you permission to cum, knowing that your orgasm was mere millimetres away. Moans and whimpers tore harshly through your throat as pleasure washed over your body, your climax reaching a peak while cum gushed out of your cunt. You felt boneless, heat spreading through your entire being, all of the intense pleasure rendering you speechless.

After what felt like years, you opened your eyes while your bare breasts heaved, only heavy breaths assaulting your ears as you turned the vibrating wand off. Taehyung had a similar situation going on: his chest moved erratically, his cum had squirted and dribbled over his still-clenched fist and a little over his bare thighs. The veins on his neck had become visible, probably due to the many times he had thrown his head back in pleasure, and he looked thoroughly fucked-out.

His entire appearance, the sinfulness of it all, already had your libido stirring again. You never used to be this needy, this insatiable, until Taehyung entered your life with all his boxy smile and cockiness.

“Tae?” You breathed, voice slightly raggedy. He looked at you with a slightly raised eyebrow, signalling that you had successfully gotten his attention. “C-Can you come over?”

#bts smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung #prof!taehyung

452 notes · View notes

misterewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Inhuman Interrogation (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here hoping you are all safe and sound! Here’s the next chapter of the Underground! A special thank you to everyone who reads my stories. I know they’re not everyone’s speed and I get wordy but I really do appreciate it! I really hope you are having some fun with it. Okay stay safe, sound, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear masks and get yourself vaccinated, push for vaccines worldwide. Here's the next chapter, enjoy! Feel free to leave likes, tell your friends, reblog and leave feedback I love it all! have a good week and I'll see you later! E is out byeeeeee!

If you want an easier way to read my story here’s the newest chapter at ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79942294

Curious what this about? Here’s the first chapter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

Want an overview of my works, you can find me right over here! Fun fact I do, on a occasion, write stuff for fandoms! Shocking I know :D

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary: Oliver's been caught red handed and there's only one thing to do: Claw and lie his way out of the situation. However, the bard might be a little over his head from this stranger who watches all.

-----

Oliver could feel a chill run down his spine, fear gripping him tightly as he scrambled to keep himself calm. Being found out was always a possibility he’d calculated in his plans, he just hadn’t wanted to deal with it tonight. Well you know what they say: When life gives you lemons, squirt lemon juice in life’s eyes and run like hell.

He’d been caught so the next step was to determine by who.

Oliver blew cool air onto his face as he pivoted around to see which person had been acute enough to catch onto his antics.

He had been expected to looking at an unhappy Lea with his sword drawn.

What found waiting for him was worse.

It was good looking man though Oliver couldn’t hazard a guess to his age. His hair was short wispy dark brown like the color of copper. His face was scratched by dozens of tiny whites line, healed scars that somehow did not detract away from his handsomeness. He wore a plain white tunic with black leggings, a large bronze hued cape hung over his unusually thin frame. The most striking feature were his golden eyes. Not golden in shade but actual gold, metallic shimmering and shining like metal caught in the glow of the sun.

He was a sight to behold, perfection made flesh and blessed by the gods.

And Oliver knew he was utterly and terribly inhuman. He was not a mortal being for no human could ever been so perfect.

The Stranger tilted his head quizzically, his eyes dilated into pupil-less orbs.

“You” He spoke in a raspy, low voice “You’ve been busy.”

Oliver coughed, trying to get his dry throat working again.

The Stranger took a step closer, his gaze unflinching “Yes, very busy.”

Oliver chuckled nervously “I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean increasingly creepy man. If you excuse me.”

As Oliver turned to leave, his blood turned cold when the stranger harshly whispered, his words booming in Oliver’s ears.

“How’s Death I wonder? He’s an old friend for you, right?”

Oliver whirled around, fist clenched but the Stranger hadn’t taken a step forward. In fact he had taken a step away, furthering the distance between them.

Oliver gulped nervously, trying his best to stop his racing heart.

“And you” he murmured quietly, trying to hold onto his fleeting courage “Smell of it.”

It was true: Even this far away, Oliver could smell the stench of decay, of death and blood wafting off the Stranger as if he’d come straight from a bloody battle.

The Stranger made no indication he heard Oliver’s comment, just stared with golden eyes unblinking.

Oliver let out a tense breath before closing his eyes. He centered his will, he reached out into the universe and drew in the power of his magic.

He could hear the scrawling of a pen across the scratchy surface of parchment, the squishy wet sounds of paint drying, the tuning of a lute among excited laughter and cheers.

‘I need to escape.’ Oliver spoke in his mind.

Knowledge filled his mind: Spells and their uses. The hand gestures necessary to tug at the weave to make his will, his need a reality.

An unknown force guided his hand, raising it high and surging with magical power. Oliver’s eyes snapped open with a fierce determination. He took a deep breath, his fingers at the ready as he prepared to recite the incantation.

“I…” Oliver began when the Stranger struck. There was a blink and there was the stranger in front of him, his hand wrapped tightly around Oliver’s wrist.

“So.” the Stranger spoke in an oddly smooth voice “You ready to tell me what you were doing squirreling about?”

Oliver was strained against the Stranger but his grip was as strong as iron. Unless he could complete the hand gestures and motions along with the incantation, the spell was incomplete and he was as helpless as a kitten in Stranger’s grasp.

Oliver grimaced in pain “Now you’re remembering to be human? No creepy staring or awkward conversations about death?”

“Sorry, sometimes my lady speaks through me. I am her will incarnate on this plane.” The Stranger gave a sheepish grin

Oliver smiled uneasily “Right mysterious lady sure. That’s totally normal. How about you let me go and I won’t take the psychotic act personally?”

“But it is personal.” The Stranger’s smirk widen, his teeth too sharp to be mortal “You’re up to something and I’d like to know what.”

‘Great.’ Oliver thought to himself, his eyes darting about for a sign of assistance: a cloaked figure nearby fidgeted awkwardly but ultimately did nothing, a few nobles conveniently glanced the opposite direction of their altercation. Even the guards were nowhere in sight. Whoever this person was, he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

Oliver pursed his lips, his mind desperately grasping at ideas to escape this situation.

“Party planner” Oliver offered helpfully “My job is to keep track of everything, make sure the party is moving smoothly and ensure there is no issues. You know how Mr. Brambleoak dislikes unnecessary distractions.”

The Stranger nodded in understanding “Party planner? That’s a good one. Feasible. If were I shade dumber, I might actually believe you. However…”

Oliver winced in pain as his grip tightened. The bard had been manhandled once or twice before but never this single handedly.

“Now” The Stranger’s golden eyes narrowed threateningly “Let’s try this one more time before you really anger my lady. What were you doing?”

Oliver opened his mouth.

“There you are!”

For one nerve wracking moment Oliver thought the Stranger had backup but he seemed just as confused as he was.

Maria cut in between two men gracefully and forced the Stranger to release his grip. He backed away as she linked herself arm in arm with Oliver.

“Sweetie!” She spoke with honeyed words, patting his arm lovingly “You ran off so quickly. I was worried I’d upset you.”

“Umm.” Oliver eyed the Stranger carefully, wary at any sudden movements “Sorry honey. This person thought I was someone he knew.”

Maria peered closer, getting a good look at the man.

The Stranger smiled cheekily “Fraid I got the wrong person.”

“You should really be careful, the guards here dislike any disturbance to the festivities.”

Almost as if magically summoned by her words, the guards began to approach with hands on their blades.

“Of course. Of course. Wouldn’t want trouble.” the Stranger bowed mockingly “Besides, I don’t think he’s the one I want.”

“That’s certainly ominous.” Oliver murmured under his breath.

Maria jabbed him with her elbow though her gaze never left the Stranger’s golden eyes.

“We should go.” Oliver offered helpfully “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Maria beamed cheerfully “No worries, I was feeling a bit tired myself. Good night good sir.”

“Bye.”

“Good night miss” the Stranger tilted his head “Bard.”

Maria hurriedly dragged Oliver away.

“Thanks for the save.” Oliver said gratefully.

Maria blew a strain of hair from her face “You’re welcome.”

“Not mad about using you as a distraction?”

“Normally I would be” Maria admitted “But that little stunt you pull got the harpies off my back for the rest of night.”

Oliver chuckled “Basking in the admiration of their adoring fans?”

“You have no idea.” she replied wearily “I’m just happy for a moment of peace. So thank you for that.”

“You are welcome then.”

The two made their way outside and straight into quite the scene: a massive cheering crowd formed around a handful of people. Most of the combatants were faced down, sprawled across the cobbled streets though Oliver spotted two familiar faces standing tall and victorious over their fallen foes.

“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?” Terri screamed into the roaring masses, arms flexed. Tyrell looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

Oliver spotted Lea among the thundering crowd, his eyes alive with excitement and joy.

Terri caught Oliver’s eye and gave a proud smile. Oliver offered a subtle thumbs up as Maria led him away from the bank.

“I take it you can’t go far.” Maria stated simply.

“No” Oliver spoke honestly “I’m afraid my business is not yet concluded.”

“Is it alright if I stay with you for now?”

Oliver bit his lip nervously “Sure. Of course. I have a moment. Not curious about what I was up to?”

Maria gave a cheeky smirk “Naturally but I have a feeling secrecy is important here. Better to not ask than force you to lie to me."

“Thank you. I don’t like lying to you.”

The two stood side by side, arms intertwined together in a quiet comfortable near silence.

Maria smiled softly “You know my father used to warn me about my sentimentality for people. About they would use it against me.”

“People like me?”

She smirked mischievously as she puffed out her chest, speaking in a mocking tone “There will come poet whose weapon is his word. He will slay you with his tongue.”

Oliver snorted loudly, trying to hide his flushing skin “Oh lei oh lai oh lord?”

“Oh quiet you.” Maria scolded with a chuckle “Surprise you didn’t take the set up.”

“Too easy.”

“Should I be offend?”

“I mean those are pretty good lyrics” Oliver replied, hand high in surrender “Surprised they came out of your father’s bitter lips.”

“I suppose everyone has their moments. However rare.”

“I suppose so.”

Maria’s hazel eyes met Oliver’s brown, curious yet expecting “Do you remember what you said to me two months ago? At the last competition?”

“Umm…” Oliver scratched his chin thoughtfully “I say a lot of things. You need to be specific.”

“That my voice was utterly angelic?”

“Ah, I didn’t think you actually heard me.” Oliver’s cheeks blushed a bright red.

Maria giggled sweetly “Did you mean it? What you said inside?”

“Yes” Oliver answered without hesitation “You don’t need them. You would be amazing by yourself.”

Maria’s smile was sad. She sighed tiredly as she threw a glance towards the bank “My father won’t let me but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Oliver nodded in confirmation.

“I feel like I am a disappointment. A puppet controlled by a father who craves nothing but influence and status.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

Oliver shifted uneasily.

“That’s what I thought bard. Nice try though.”

Oliver caught sight of Flora and Sel making their way outside, signaling the others the mission was complete. Terri and Tyrell broke free from the fight circle and began making their way towards the rendezvous point.

Maria slipped her arm out of his “It is time I suppose.”

“Enjoy your night off.” Oliver took her hand in his own and softly kissed it. Maria flushed a pink hue but still curtsy in response.

Oliver turned to face her, his eyes gentle and understanding “You aren’t a disappointment.”

Maria rolled her eyes “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Oliver firmly stated.

Maria’s eyes stared quizzically into his “Certain, are you?”

Oliver cleared his throat “You aren’t a disappointment to me.”

“That’s sweet but I’m afraid I barely know you. Besides you’ve been a thorn in my father’s plans consistently. Technically, I shouldn’t be talking to you let alone assisting.”

Oliver gave an impish grin “Yet you are.”

“You are far too charming for your own good.” Maria frowned mockingly

“Nothing compared to you.”

“Sweet words are nothing without meaning beyond them bard.”

Oliver took a deep calming breath, struggling to get the words out before he lost his nerve “The boy who used to climb your fence still loves you.”

Maria’s eyes widen with confusion before realization dawned upon her hazel eyes “How did you…?”

but Oliver ran, bravery failing. He disappeared into the crowded streets without another word. He ducked and weaved through the people in case Maria decided to chase him though he doubt she would. Perhaps those words didn’t have the same weight as they once did. Oliver really did not want to stick around to find out. He shouldn’t have said anything but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

-----

It hadn’t taken long for Oliver to meet up with the rest of the crew. Everyone managed to gather in a nearby alley, their chatter excited and cheerful.

“Boss man!” Terri boomed, arms opened wide “WE DID IT! See the pile? Do I get results or do I get results?”

Oliver gave a weak chuckle “Yes you do. Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Damn straight.” Terri flexed unnecessarily once more. Flora gave a playful wink towards her girlfriend which turned Terri a lovely bright pink.

Tyrell looked haggard and sick “I never want to do that again. Ever.”

“You did amazingly Ty! You can be First Chair in no time if you keep this up!” Terri patted his back approvingly, Tyrell nearly went sprawling to the floor below.

Oliver gave a sharp whistle, grabbing the attention of everyone “We did great team and it was an honor to work with you. If you require my assistance, I’ll be in town for a few days at the Right Hook. Ask for Ollie.”

Terri slipped her hand into Flora’s “We won’t be in town much longer. We have business up north but we wish you well! Permission to leave?”

“Granted.” Oliver waved them off “No making out until you leave our sights.”

It was impossible to know who was a redder shade: Terri or Flora.

The pair bowed respectfully before taking their leave, Flora’s head resting lovingly on Terri’s shoulder. Oliver couldn’t help chuckle at Terri’s proud “And you didn’t poison anyone! Great work sweetheart!”

Oliver turned to the remaining two “Sel, destroy the paper and report back to the local Conductor. If there’s any more trouble come get me.”

Sel gave a single nod before disappearing into the crowded streets without another word.

“And me?” Tyrell whispered anxiously “What about me?”

“You.” Oliver stretched his neck, trying to relive the tension of the night “You’re gonna tell me how to get into the Clifftop Distract.”

“E-excuse me?”

Oliver waved his question off “Don’t even. I know you’re a noble born. Your clothes are way too nice to be a simple baker or blacksmith’s son. And barely frayed means you ran away from home recently.”

Tyrell glanced away, fidgeting nervously “You noticed?”

Oliver nodded.

“And you don’t care?”

“Not in the least” Oliver admitted honestly “You got into the Choir. That means you’re good in my book.”

“Thank you.” Tyrell smiled softly “I appreciate it. May I ask why you need to get into the Clifftop Distract?”

Oliver scratched the back of his neck sheepishly “Someone I know has business up there. Figured I might as well ask you to make our lives easier.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“I’m really not.” Oliver murmured quietly, unable to stare Tyrell in the eyes.

Tyrell shook his head is disagreement but didn’t press further “Every month they change the password. This month’s is Knightly Valor.”

“Knightly Valor, thank you.”

“No, thank you for not telling the others. May I go now?”

Oliver ruffled Tyrell’s hair playfully “Go on scamp.”

Tyrell bowed and with a skip in his step, made his way out of the alleyway.

Oliver stood there alone for a moment before turning towards the shadows.

“You gonna keep follow me or we’re finally going to talk?”

The figure did not break the silence of the night as they stepped out seemingly from darkness itself.

“You knew I was following you? Impressive given not many can sense my presence” the cloaked figured spoke. unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

“Mhm.” Oliver grunted “Ever since West End. You were in the bar the night Abigail and I hired Archie. I heard you moving about when we camped for the night, just down the tunnel out of sight. I assume you lost us when we went down the side tunnels and decided to stake out West Haven for us to pass through. You’ve been tailing me all night since I left the Right Hook.

The figure said nothing.

“That’s what I thought.” Oliver sighed tiredly “Alright, we gonna have a problem? I've had a long night and I've been threaten one times too many today.”

“No problem.” The figure muttered.

Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously “Then why show yourself?”

“You need to know my presence.”

Oliver sighed “You are being very cryptic.”

“Now you know how everyone else feels.”

Oliver smirked mockingly, unable to hide the sarcasm from his voice “Thanks, I hate it!”

“Be careful bard.” the figured glanced about, worried “Something is coming.”

“Nice and vague, thanks for the tip ninja.”

The figure shifted uncomfortably but remained silent.

“Fine, go on then if you're not gonna be any more helpful.” Oliver shook his head before closing his eyes. When he opened them, the figure was gone, upped and vanished into nothingness.

Oliver ran his hand through hair tiredly as he began making his way back to the Right Hook.

“And I still have to climb two stories. Fucking hell, what a night.”

#My work #Original Work #original story #welcome to the underground #Welcome to the underground!

36 notes · View notes