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itsthestutterforme · 9 months ago

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Copy That (Jack Reacher x ex!wife!reader)

Summary: Much against his preference, he gave you a call and asked for your help. When a hit was hired to take you out, he deeply regrets getting you involved.

Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, protective Reacher, soft Reacher, reader is black, technically this is a drabble but there will be more drabble with the same characters

—

“Who’s able to hack into a system with this much encryption?” Rocoe asks, linking her arms over her head as she leaned back into her chair.

“Let me see,” Reacher turns the monitor to face him. There’s a black screen with a singular white box that asks for a password.

Obviously it’s more than a password. They probably beefed up their cybersecurity when he noticed someone getting too close to their operation, Reacher thought to himself.

“Finlay, do you have any friends in cybersecurity security that we can trust?” Roscoe asks.

“Negative,” Reacher knew exactly the person for the job. He hadn’t spoken to you in years, and he didn’t want the first time he contacted you to be when he needed something.

But he didn’t have any other choice.

You wanted out of field work two years after your operations team disbanded. In that way, you were opposite of Neagley, your best friend.

You liked being in the comfort of your own office, free to do anything you’d like when waiting for the decryption to crack.

Life with you was domesticated. Life with you was peaceful. A level of peace he wasn’t sure he would feel again, even if he went back to his favorite home town growing up.

“Reacher?” Roscoe asks, touching her forearm to bring him out of his thoughts. “Where’d you go?” “Nowhere, I’m right here. I know someone,” Reacher finally says, pulling out his burner phone.

“Really? You have friends?” Finlay jabs, earning a glare from Reacher. He dialed your number and put the phone on speaker.

You were in the middle of doing a headstand lotus on your yoga mat when you heard your phone vibrate.

It was from an unsaved number. There was two people that would call from unsaved number: Neagley or Reacher.

You answered the phone and moved across your office to close all the blinds. “Y/L/N,” you answer and you were met with silence.

“If this is some ploy to scare me, you really suck at it.” Reacher stared at the phone, his heart pattering wildly in his chest.

You just had that effect on him.

You were about to hang up the phone when you heard a low baritone say your name.

You looked down at the number before bringing the phone back up to your ear. “Reacher? Is everything okay?”

You peeked through the blinds of your office and saw no one suspicious but you can never be too careful.

“I, uh.” Reacher starts, earning confused stares from Finlay and Roscoe. They hadn’t seen him speechless before.

He takes the phone off speaker and goes outside for some privacy. “Y/N, I need your help cracking something. You’re more than welcome to say no-“ “Send it over,” you interrupt.

“I can’t. It’s likely they’ll track the IP address to you and pay you a visit.” “Let them try.” A proud smile makes its way on his face. That’s my girl.

“It’s safer with us. I’ll send you the coordinate incognito.” “Jesus, Reacher. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s something I have to finish,” “How long should I pack for?” His silence told you all you needed to know.

“I’ll be on the next flight out,”

You stepped off the metro with your carry on suitcase by your side and a backpack on.

You downed the rest of your coffee and tossed it in the waste bin before advancing towards the escalator. You scanned the area for Reacher with no avail but Reached saw you.

He didn’t want to call attention to you by calling your name so he watched as you waited for the escalator.

“Wow, she’s.. ” Finlay trails off when Reacher’s gaze left you to stare at him. “Really pretty,” Roscoe finishes. “She’s clearly your girlfriend,” Finlay adds.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” “You’re rather protective of her. You care about her.”“That doesn’t make her my girlfriend,”

“Uh guys, where’d she go?” Roscoe starts. The group looks at the empty space where you were previously standing.

“Fuck,” Reacher rushes down the stairs, Finlay and Roscoe not far behind. I should have never took my eyes off of her, Reacher thought to himself. If she dies, I swear to God.

Meanwhile, you stood over the man who had pushed you a few feet into the metro tunnel.

He had pressed a knife to your throat while his teammate searched your belongings. They expected you to be a quick kill.

You had to say you were a bit insulted that they only sent two men after you. They must not see you as a physical threat. That was their mistake.

He laid at your feet, his eyes widen as he looks up at you. He peers over to his teammate who laid dead on the tracks, his neck split wide open.

You slowly approached him and he attempted to crawl away from you. The blood from his chest wound stains the pavement under near him.

You wasted no time as you pressed your boot down on his trachea. He gripped your ankle, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Thrusting your foot down, you crushed his trachea and watched as his chest slowly falls to a stop.

You slung your book bag over your shoulder and rolled your carry on back to the metro docking station.

Reacher had his back toward you, he was talking to two people you didn’t recognize.

A younger woman looked over at you, her mouth fell open at the sight of you. You’re sure you had blood splattered across your neck and face.

She mumbles something to Reacher and spun around so fast, you’re surprised he didn’t crack his neck.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you. He doesn’t say anything at first. You admired the stubble that was forming on his face.

You were always a sweetheart for facial hair. He held your face, turning your head from side to side in search of wounds. His hand gently trailed down your abdomen.

He continued his silent survey until you said, “Reach, I’m fine. The blood isn’t mine.”

His gaze fell behind you before returning to your face. He raised his brow and you nodded at his silent question. They were dead.

“I should have kept my eyes on you. This is my fault. I’m sorry.” “Hey, you taught me well. I handled myself. Besides, it was only two guys.”

“What did they use?” “Knives,” you said with a smirk. “They didn’t stand a chance,” he says, making your smirk widen. “No, they didn’t.”

“Sorry to interrupt but uh,” Finlay hands you a hanker chief, motioning to your face. “We should go. You’re getting stares.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure.” You reached down to grab your luggage but Reacher beats you to it.

You didn’t bother arguing with him, you were occupied with getting all of the blood off of your skin while it was still wet.

“So.. are you Reacher’s girlfriend?” Finlay asks as he opened the trunk and Reacher slide your luggage inside.

Roscoe looked at you expectantly, which tells you that she has a crush on him.

You don’t blame her. He’s Jack Reacher after all.

“No, I’m his ex-wife.” You answer, setting your book bag next to your luggage before closing the trunk. Roscoe’s mouth fell once again, along with Finlay’s.

They stared at you as if they were waiting for you to say just kidding. You slide into the back seat and Reacher joined you.

“Close your mouth, Finlay. You’ll catch flies.” He says before closing the door.

“Care to tell me what happened the last time you were at the metro?” You asked when you all piled into the car.

“What do you mean?” Roscoe asks as Finlay pulls off the curb and descends into exit to go onto the freeway.

“The way you were looking for me was frantic. It makes sense why Reach was worried, but not you two. Something else happened at the metro station. Someone was taken out like they tried to take me out. Who was it?” You explain.

Finlay and Roscoe looked shared a look but didn’t say anything.

“There was a woman. Her name was Molly-“ “Molly? As in Molly Gordon?” “You know her?”

“Joe brought her as his plus one to my sister’s baby shower. God, that’s.. how’s Joe holding up?” You asked, your mouth felt dry at the new information.

Reacher looks at you, his features hard as stone. Your heart sank in your chest the longer you stared at him.

You felt compelled to reach for his hand in comfort but you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t big on public affection.

Nor was he big on being vulnerable in front of people so you kept your hands in your lap.

“How long?” You asked after a pause. “It’s been a few days now,” Finlay confirms. “They got too close,” you said with a sigh.

“How many people have died?” “Five so far,” Roscoe answers. “And that’s just the ones we found,” Finlay adds.

“So they’re dropping people like flies and it’s still a state police matter?”

Bringing in the FBI and the CIA will only push these people into the hiding. We need to lure them out and kill them.” Reacher explains and you nodded in agreement.

“Copy that,”

#jack reacher #reacher x reader #jack reacher x reader #alan richardson

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months ago

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[Request] Reader caring for a sick Remmy [Dollmaker Yan Oc]

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.1k

“Remmy isn't home right now…. Please come back later.”

Could this day get any worse?... Weeks, months even, building up the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date or anything, not yet anyway. He still needed to test the water a little longer, make sure the signals he had picked up from you weren't figments of his imagination. All that time, all those embarrassing hours spent in front of the mirror practicing what to say given any outcome - flushed down the drain in one night.

Remmy could hardly open his eyes the morning you were intended to meet. You didn't even recognize him over the phone at first. In his heightened state of delirium from the fever racking his weary mind, he hoped the same would happen as you continuously rang his doorbell - demanding in the softest voice you could manage for him to open up.

As if he could be that lucky….

“And where, pray tell, would someone hacking up a lung over the phonean hour ago be right besides the hospital? It's not that far away. I can head over right now and check.”

….

“Open this door right now, Remiel. You're not going to flake on me twice today.”

Did you have to phrase it like that? Kicking a sick person while he could barely stand was cruel - even if you did come to check up on him.

“O…okay…. Remmy is- I'm going to unlock the door, just…give me a minute to clean up my room. I have some stuff out I really don't want anyone to see…”

The muffled shuffling of plastic splices between the click of the lock as Remmy unlocks the front door.

“60.”

“Crap.”

Hobbling away from the front door, Remmy clings to the hallway walls as he makes a break for his bedroom. The straight path twists and bends as his stress levels skyrocket from the very real fear of you finding out what he had stored. There wasn't enough time for him to hide everything. His top priority were the worst offenders - items he couldn't excuse as being a result of his relatively harmless hobby. Doll clothing fashioned after clothes you'd yet to wear for the public eye. Others you never owned and probably would never wear, unless they were for a partner or to make yourself feel good. Pictures of you hung up on his walls. So much to bury in such little time.

“They can't see that…That one either. God, they'd kill me if they saw-”

“Saw what?”

A hoarse yelp claws its way out of Remmy's aching throat. Standing in his doorway, you balance two separate bags in your arms - awaiting his response. Remmy hurriedly pulls the corners of his blankets over the space beneath his bed.

“I…threw up a bit ago. Guess I'm feeling worse than I thought when we spoke over the phone.”

In the blink of an eye you're by his side. Remmy flinches as you press the back of your palm against his forehead.

“Oh, Rem….” Concern oozes from your words as you set your bags down, taking hold of his arm. You're burning up. Come on. Let's get you back in bed.”

“You don't have to go through all this for me, Y/n. Really, I'm-” His sentence falls short as you scoop him off the floor, sitting him up on his bed. Were you always this strong - or had he always been this easy to carry? In that moment, Remmy felt just like one of his dolls. His head spins at the very thought. You take the opportunity to gently ease him down against the mattress, rolling the discarded sheets up to his waist. You pick up the plastic bags, setting them on the small table in the center of his room as you rummage through them.

“Got some chicken soup from this dinner down the street. If you can't keep anything down, maybe the broth will be a good place to state. Oh!- picked up some ginger ale too. That might help with your stomach too. Cough drops, cough medicine…. Do you prefer liquid or pills?”

Remmy turns his head away from you as he coughs into his fist. “...whichever…whichever you brought is fine.”

“Well,I actually bought both, but I can just return the other on my way home later. I'll go grab you a cup real quick.”

Heading for the door, Remmy’s meek voice calls out to you - barely about a whisper. “Y/n?”

Hand on the doorframe, you gaze over your shoulder at him. “What's up? Need something else while I'm in the kitchen?”

“No…” Remmy shakes his head, the pressure of a headache hammering at his skull. “Agh… Remmy… I just wanted to thank you…for this. You really didn't have to come over…”

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. “Don't think I did this for nothing. Gotta make sure you're well enough for our date next weekend. The park is nice and all, but that's where we always go. I expect to be taken somewhere else for our first date.”

“Date?” He couldn't have heard you right. But, you said it - twice. You disappear down the hall before he can properly question you. Was this all a dream? The conjurings of his ill mind as the sickness took hold? This felt better than anything he could imagine- Your hushed voice as you reenter the room confirms it. You wiggle your arm behind his head, helping him sit back up just enough to place the cup to his lips without him choking while swallowing. A part of him wished this was a dream. One that he'd never wake up from if he had the choice. Another dream come true was waiting for him once he got better.

“Remmy?...Rem?”

Soda spills onto your hand as the weight of his head crashes upon your shoulder. Did he…. fall asleep? Just like that? You hadn't even given him his medicine yet. At least the sleep will be good for him. You should probably go put everything else you brought up to pass the time until he wakes up.

“Mmm…”

Remmy’s face scrunches in discomfort as you part from his side, lowering his head onto the pillows as you stand. Your foot touches something soft beneath his bed. You reach a hand underneath - completely forgetting about his earlier warnings as your fingers wrap around the squishy item. A doll with instantly identifying features stares back up at you as you drag it from its prison. Funny - you don't remember wearing this shirt around Remmy. You only bought it a few days ago. You planned to wear it today before he told you the bad news.

Shrugging, you raise Remmy's arm - tucking the doll against his chest. His face melts into that of peaceful bliss, body curling around the doll as his other hand strokes its face as if on auto-pilot. You press a kiss to his forehead - shutting off the lights in his room as you depart for a second time.

#remmy my oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere fluff #yandere drabble

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redvexillum · 5 months ago

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A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.”

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing.

All for research, of course.

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–”

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.”

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean?

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary.

The definition of Mid was…

Below average.

Not good.

Mediocre.

Boring.

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being…

Being….

Boring.

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.

She was going to get so cancelled.

That he would make sure of.

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.

You should…go out and fuck someone.

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.

Everything about your life was the same.

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.

Retail therapy.

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from [email protected]

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.

Subject: (no subject) Dear Bitch, Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it. Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are. And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID. Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning. Fuck you. P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message?

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both.

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

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blainesebastian · 2 years ago

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damage control (mas universe)

words: 2,284 ship: austin butler x reader summary: ( @stylespresleyhearted requested) “Reader’s iCloud gets hacked and she had some pictures in lingerie she had sent to Austin that get leaked” notes: this is part of the ‘mutually assured satisfaction’ universe, my PR!relationship series. You could probably read this alone if you wanted. warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @rairaielv

In theory, you know there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a strong, successful woman in your industry and you’ve worked hard for that. There have been moments of sacrifice that you’ve never admitted or spoken outloud to anyone, but that’s what one does for their craft sometimes? Their passion. Not even to mention that you’re unconsciously comparing yourself to men in your shoes, how much more recognition they might get, how much more money. It’s not something you harp on because sometimes society just is what it is…you know how lucky you are and how far you’ve come, you’re not about to complain. But deep down you wonder, if this would have happened to a man somehow, what would the reactions be? There’s a societal stereotype that digs right under your skin.

And yet that doesn’t make it hurt any less when it happens.

In the back of your mind, there are a million thoughts swirling through in harsh circles, like a washing machine cycle that just won’t end. It’s one thing to take pictures of yourself for your boyfriend but why did you keep them? It would have been easy just to delete them afterwards, to make sure. And then another thought rebounds back with a why? What’s the big deal? So what if you’ve taken these pictures? You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you posed yourself in a bit of lingerie and sent them to your long-term boyfriend when he was away filming. You both missed one another, the phone sex and Facetime calls and long nights of shared intimacy of just hearing eachother’s voices was just barely enough to cover the ache. Why not add a few pictures to make things interesting? You loved taking them and Austin certainly loved receiving them. You haven’t done anything wrong, you haven’t hurt anyone.

There’s a rational part of your brain, however, that knew this was going to be a bad idea, or maybe hindsight is always that clear.

It’s just a ping-pong set of emotions, really, because when it happens you’re constantly floating between two families of thought. When someone hacks into your iCloud account and finds those pictures, they’re instantly circulated in a few ways. Sold to paps, posted online. Your agent and publicist do their best to cover damage control and while you’re numb at first to this even happening? your first thought ends up being, well at least I’m not completely naked.

And then that’s how it starts, the ping-pong table of feelings.

One the one side, there’s an aloof sense of justification in which you argue with yourself and anyone else that you’ve got no reason to feel shame about your body. It’s not your fault that the female form is automatically sexualized in society and that yeah, you’re wearing lingerie? But so what? It’s no more revealing than a bathing suit and you’re not about to feel guilty for sending them to your boyfriend. It’s not like you’re the only couple on earth to exchange pictures (yeah, Austin has sent his fair share back to you…luckily you had enough common sense not to keep those). On the other one side, you’re pissed off that this has happened and ashamed and embarrassed that a bunch of strangers are seeing you like this, judging you, seeing intimacies that were only made for Austin.

It comes in waves as you handle damage control and unfortunately today, you’re in the latter. The humiliation is just weighing heavily onto you today, like a weighted blanket, pulling your shoulders down. You feel like you might sink right through the floor of your loft…and that’s how Austin finds you when he comes home, crying in the kitchen and worse, trying to hide it from him.

You feel foolish attempting to pretend you’re fine anyways because at this point Austin knows you like the back of his hand, even if he wasn’t caught up on everything that’s been happening. You attempt to walk out of the room but he gently catches your elbow and at one simple touch you just crumble, tears rolling down your cheeks even though you try to wipe them away.

“Shh,” He whispers, drawing you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you tightly, tucking you underneath his chin as emotions slam into you like constant waves. Despite how terrible all of this is and your struggle to come to grips with a lot of it, the only good thing is definitely your boyfriend.

He reminds you how supportive and wonderful he is, not once allowing you to feed into the worst thoughts you’ve had about yourself saying that you somehow deserve the chaos that’s been happening. While friends and family have been encouraging and great, Austin speaks to a part of you that seemingly only he can reach. He’s the only reason you’re getting through this, rocky days or not.

You both eventually end up on the couch, Austin tugging you down until you’re lying on his chest, the lower half of your body between his legs. It’s one of the easiest comforts, closing your eyes as you rest your head on his shoulder, nose and lips pressed to soft skin of his neck. The faint scent of his cologne brings a sense of calm and you feel like you’re finally able to breathe, to settle down once you’re against him.

He brings one of his hands up and slides it along your back, pausing to rub circles into your spine. Neither of you need to say anything for a long while, just enjoying one another’s company and decompressing.

“I hate that every time I feel like I’m over this,” You sniffle, breaking the silence, “Another emotion pops up that’s capable of taking my legs out.”

Austin shakes his head gently, letting out a soft sigh that’s mostly through his nose, “You don’t have to justify any emotions that you’re feelin’ about this.”

“I think that’s part of the problem,” You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers underneath your one eye, removing a tear track that’s no longer there. “I have no idea how to feel.” There are so many ranges of reactions that it’s constantly knocking you back and forth—angry and guilty and humiliated and upset and so many synonyms for all of those, all a cycle, over and over again.

And then even worse, it’s not just you involved in this whole thing but other people are waiting for your reaction to this. Paps, social media, people you’ve worked with, fans…and not that you owe anyone an explanation, either, but you also feel like it’s not going to go away until you say something.

“You don’t owe anyone anythin’.” Austin reads your mind and you smile just a little because even though that might be obvious, it’s nice to hear it.

Shifting a little on his chest, you tilt your head up to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “I just don’t get what the big damn deal is, people do shit like this all the time. Don’t even get me started on how there’s underwear and bathing suit models? A ton of celebrities go down that track.” You get the sense that this is because it was something more intimate, more forbidden, the fact that these were for Austin’s eyes only. But still.

Austin brushes your hair aside. “That’s what you should do,” He comments, more offhanded than anything else, “Give them somethin’ to look at if they’re insisting.”

And you just kinda blink because…wait, “I…I could do that.”

A soft laugh rumbles in your boyfriend’s chest until he looks down at you and realizes you’re serious. He adjusts the pillow behind him, propping himself up a little more so he can see you properly. He raises his eyebrows, his mouth opening for a moment but he doesn’t speak quite yet. He waits, considering words before he says them.

Not because he’s not supportive but, reiterating, “You don’t have anythin’ to prove.”

“I know, it wouldn’t be for anyone other than me.” And you mean that—it’s not like some big idea to somehow prove that you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of or that you’re giving in to sharing more of yourself because you feel like you have to.

It’s not about that. It’s about owning up to these pictures and…not feeling guilty. You’re a beautiful, strong woman who’s in love with her boyfriend and who isn’t going to be mortified into feeling remorseful for sending or accidently saving half naked pictures.

“Yeah, those pics were only meant for you…but I’m not going to let anyone make me feel bad for sending them.” And this is decided. You’re…not quite sure what this is going to translate into, exactly, but the point is? You’re going to figure it out. Your agent, Christina, has been texting you nonstop since it’s happened anyways—trying to figure out a plan of attack.

Well, you’ve got one.

Austin smiles down at you, curling your hair around your ear. He leans down and presses a small kiss to bridge of your nose, can see how proud he is about you coming to this decision in the blues of his eyes.

And really, that’s all you need to keep moving forward.

As suspected, Christina doesn't second-guess any of your ideas—she just gets to work. She wants to be able to help in any way that she can, and honestly that means a lot to you. Especially with Austin's support, you feel like you can do this. There's that little voice in the back of your head, of course, feeding insecurities, lying about how this will only make it worse and more humiliating for you. But you eventually swallow that down, because confidence is key, it's the whole point and narrative that Christina tells the fashion photographer that has them agreeing to do the spread and small info session afterwards. It's a very small message of empowerment, of owning those frustrating feelings and using them for something good. It's selfish, for sure, but you're hoping other women get something out of this—there's nothing about the female body to be embarrassed about.

You watch your eyes in the mirror as a makeup artist puts just a bit of blush high on your cheekbones—there's an iridescence to it that matches the lingerie you're wearing. Kinda reminds you of a mermaid, really, the scales part. It's a lavender lace teddy, sheer in some places, just enough to hint over to imagination—much like the in the photos you sent Austin.

Your stomach is swirling in anticipation. The photos come second, just a few different shots, again very closely related to the poses you sent Austin (all of this is on purpose) but first a meet n’ greet with the photographer to answer some questions. They go fast and then flashes of bright light settling in the back of your eyes and…once it’s all over, you kinda feel enthralled and completely anxious all at the same time. Nervous energy bubbling along your nerve endings as you see Austin lingering in the background.

You’re not sure what time he’s arrived but he’s smiling at you, moving into frame once the camera stops going off. He lovingly cups both sides of your face, leaning down to gently press a kiss against your lips. There’s the sound of a camera shutter, you’re almost sure, but you don’t care as your hands rest on his waist.

He doesn’t say anything but you realize he doesn’t have to? He’s looking down at you with a mixture of emotions that tell you everything. How beautiful he thinks you are, how proud he is, and everything in-between.

There’s a full body shot from the photoshoot that blows up—and it just so happens to be the candid photo that the photographer took of you and Austin at the end. It’s endearing and soft and while all the other photos are knockouts, it’s definitely your favorite because it conveys the title that goes along with the thread: ‘no place for shame’. Not that this was one hundred percent your end goal either, but admittedly it does feel good that fans have been reposting and tagging you in positive posts.

Austin has been with you every step of the way, has supported you with the intimacies of your relationship accidently ending up out in the open since it happened. You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend to go through this with.

You’re just glad that it finally feels like it’s on the upend of blowing over. So what better time than to feel good and celebrate?

You linger against the doorframe of the living room, watching as Austin reads over a script for tomorrow. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth, “Guess what?”

“Hmm?” He asks but doesn’t look up.

“I got to keep the lace teddy from the photoshoot.”

That gets Austin’s attention, he lifts his head in soft amusement, his eyes trailing over your form as you stand there wearing it. You smirk a little, playing with the thin lavender strings that tie together the bust. The soft mesh rests right along the tops of your thighs…and you’ve forgone underwear.

“You wouldn’t want to…take it off me, would you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

Austin slowly puts the script down, standing from the couch. He hums lightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he walks towards you. Before you can say anything else, he leans down to kiss you, playfully lifting you up into his arms to walk you towards the bedroom.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #mccall writes things #elvis 2022 #mas

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bobluvbot · 2 years ago

Text

the wifi password

pairing: jake hangman seresin x f!reader

summary: in which your relationship with jake goes beyond third base.

wc: 831

warnings: a lil sprinkling of cursing and implied sex so 18+ only! other than that it’s fluff ❤️ ((also this is the first thing i wrote in a long ass while so pls be kind 😭))

the best thing you have right now for entertainment is watching tiktoks. and despite how much you hated its time-consuming and addicting nature, time and time again you find yourself deeply enthralled by the videos that grace your for you page because the algorithm just knows you that well.

you were in the middle of watching someone put mud clay mask all over their hair to see if it does work wonders, and if it does, you’re thinking of using an old container of it stashed somewhere in your medicine cabinet. Because truly, that’s how much of a chokehold tiktok life-hacks have on you. the video stops midway and the dreaded loading bar at the bottom lights up. your heart breaks a little as your eyes reach the signal bar on your phone, confirming that indeed, you lost signal and your data is gone.

frustrated, you were forced to come back and absorb the life around you. The team decided to spend the day at the beach, and now you spot them playing volleyball. you were feeling a bit sore from the training exercises you’ve done back to back, and it’s not like you were getting quality rest at night since he kept you very busy. So if the next best thing other than a week’s worth of sleep and deep tissue massages would be to sit back and watch some tiktoks while your teammates tackle each other to the ground for a ball, then you’d take it.

deeming the distance between you and your friends far enough, you let yourself admire the man responsible for your lower back pain and chronic eye rolls. jake practically soars before spiking the ball towards the opposing team’s side. it was downright unfair how despite the humid summer heat and the sea breeze only did wonders to how he looked as they played. the sunset gave ample lighting that made his figure glow, and if you were high enough and someone were to come and say he’s from a classical painting, you’d believe them without a doubt. trying to reunite the thought that this god of a man having a blast swatting balls towards his friends was the same guy who’d been sat crosslegged on your pink rug last night, a look of confusion marring his beautiful features as he attempts to follow a waterfall braid tutorial from youtube on your head at 1am, will probably take a while for you to get used to.

and you would have time. not a lot, as the mission is in two weeks, but that’s still fourteen days that you can spend with him; memorizing the way your body slots perfectly into his, the calluses on his hands and how they feel when entwined with yours, the way your name falls from his lips when you both are alone thousands feet up in air, and so much more. if there was one thing you’re proud to master early in your naval career, it’s to always live your life like it’s your last. you give everything that you deem worthy your all, so when you look back, there’ll be no room for regret. and while jake has the potential to be so much more things other than your wingman and your fuck buddy, you’d gladly settle for what is and run with it.

a buzz keeps you from disappearing in your reverie.

of fucking course, jake leaves his wifi hotspot open. the man’s got everything going for him, so to balance everything out, the heavens had the kind consideration not to make him the most phone savvy person to exist. so like the opportunist you are, you jump on it.

only it asks for a password.

so you put your two week situationship to the test. running through the days and nights you spent together and picking through information you might have exchanged with jake.

his hometown, no. his birthday, no. his dog’s name, no. his college graduation date? his parents’ anniversary? his favorite band? 12345?

nothing. it’s been five minutes and you’ve already exhausted all you knew about the blonde pilot. maybe you just didn’t know him well enough.

placing your phone down with a huff, you return your focus to the rowdy group. you meet eyes with your beau and he throws you a wink and a dimpled smile that makes your heart do a little somersault. this is bad.

and you knew exactly what could make it worse.

grabbing your phone again, you click on his password protected wifi. you gingerly type the letters of your first name, cringing as you think of how stupid this is.

with a tap, the wifi symbol appears back, and your tiktok reboots again, dreaded loading bar nowhere to be seen.

you couldn't really focus on anything else with that loud beating from your chest and the color rushing to your cheeks, and out of all things rushing through your mind, the mud clay hack remains ignored.

#hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #oh my god did i really write something???

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sparkle-d · 2 years ago

Text

waiting game | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x you

summary: in which you switch your phone with daniel's without knowing

tags: falling in love; chatting and messages; kind of enemies to friends to lovers

warnings: insecure reader; f!reader; dumb people

chapter: 1/?

(you: blue/ daniel: orange)

chapter 1 - press start

unknown said: hey!!

unknown said: i think we switched phones last night

unknown said: my password is 123456

Daniel looks at the phone that’s sitting on his dinner table, with a frown that insists on staying on his forehead. The one he’s staring at with so much confusion right now, it obviously isn’t his cell phone.

The phone case is the same - a bright yellow one, but when he touches the screen, there’s a Ferrari wallpaper glowing in red shades, and Daniel knows that even his most drunk self wouldn’t change his wallpaper to a Ferrari one.

He thought it was perhaps a prank from Pierre or Max, but they’re too creative to only change it to a Ferrari design, and when the message pops up, it all makes sense. This isn’t his cell phone indeed, but now someone else is in possession of his, and he has this person’s phone weirdly standing on the table as if Daniel could get an infection by just touching it.

With care, Daniel enters the password and it naturally unlocks the phone in front of him.

you said: very clever password, i might say

you said: you should be like me and simply don’t use any password

unknown said: that’s dumb, i could hack all of your things if i wanted

you said: it’s called freedom, sweetheart

unknown said: or stupidity maybe

They have a point, but Daniel thinks one of his traits is that he’s witty sometimes, he always has the answer for everything. Daniel likes to be right almost all the time, to have the last word when necessary - and this person is triggering this side of him way too quickly. His mouth curves while thinking about an answer.

you said: you call it stupidity and i call it what saved our asses in this situation. my lack of security is what allowed you to message me in the first place

you said: also, i have nothing to hide. im an open book, for your information

Daniel stops for a second, thinking deeper about it.

you said: maybe don’t look into my photos, please

unknown said: uhm… i wouldn’t. ew

unknown said: i’m a woman of my word

unknown said: don’t go into mine too then

you said: i won’t, and i’m a man of my word as well.

Daniel knows she’s someone who attends the Formula 1 events, the possibility of her being from his group of friends being high, but he probably shouldn’t have drank so much last night, to the point where he can’t even remember the girls’ faces or names from last night. It’s a lost battle even if he tries to guess who’s the woman on his phone.

unknown said: sooo…

unknown said: we need to exchange phones right

unknown said: please tell me you, that for any reason, you’re in monaco too and already left the same way i did

you said: you’re not in australia anymore?

unknown said: heh nervous laughing

unknown said: i’m not

unknown said: landed in monaco a while ago

Daniel squints his eyes to see the hour on the phone. He gets surprised, it’s way past noon. If he wasn’t in his hometown and decided to spend some more days here, he would’ve lost his plane as well. He also had no plans on going to Monaco these days, because he had some things to solve before the next race.

you said: may i ask you who you are?

you said: i’d like to know whos in possession of my phone

He can feel a headache increasing its pain the more he’s on his cell phone, but he needs to get this done sooner. Daniel wasn’t too worried because he had two phones, and gladly, the one he uses for work and serious matters he normally doesn’t go to parties with it in his pocket, of course. She has his personal phone, the one he uses with his family and friends. So nothing too serious.

unknown said: you may but i’d like to keep my identity a secret

unknown said: wouldn’t it be entertaining if you didn’t know a thing about how i look like

unknown said: and i didn’t know a thing about you

unknown said: this way we could build a wonderful bond based only on our personalities

Daniel almost snorts at the answer. He just wants his phone back and he doesn’t get how this person isn’t freaking out about a stranger having her phone. On the contrary, she’s thinking about playing games in this situation.

Wait… a game? Daniel grins.

you said: you have a point

you said: sounding more like a challenge

you said: but i think i’m in

unknown said: challenge?

you said: yeah a challenge

you said: i won’t know who you are

you said: or what you look like

you said: and everyone that crosses my path i’ll think it’s you

unknown said: there’s a chance we’ve already met...

you said: it would be so sad if you were an old man that tricked me into this and ends up trying to seduce me and then break my heart

unknown said: i might just do that, you know ;)

Daniel raises one of his eyebrows. Oh.

unknown said: but i’m not an old man tho

unknown said: just in my twenties

you said: can i tell you something

you said: i’ve never done this before

unknown said: what, exchange messages with a stranger?

unknown said: or messaged a person at all

unknown said: also i like the idea of you having a thought about me but not knowing who i am

you said: haha funny

you said: message a stranger, ofc

you said: at the moment the only thought i have about you is that you’re crazy

you said: or something

unknown said: s-so this means i’m your first?

unknown said: i’m honored i might say

unknown said: (i’m something, don’t worry i’m not crazy)

you said: you should be ;)

you said: i don’t do this messaging thing with people i just met or that i didn’t meet at all but you are making my phone your hostage for some reason

Daniel finds himself smiling while chatting with this stranger. He still thinks this is all bullshit and they should tell each other who they are, exchange phones and go on with their lives. But he’s also excited to speak with someone without this person knowing he is Daniel Ricciardo, the Formula 1 racer. She’s treating him normally, not trying to impress him or even trying something else with him. She’s not even that worried about what Daniel might think of her and her quirky ideas.

Daniel vibes with this too, he likes a good challenge.

Another message appears on the screen of the phone, but this time it isn't from Daniel’s number - it has a contact name on it.

you said: oh, someone named ‘bubbles’ just messaged you and they’re waiting for you outside

unknown said: shit, i have to go then

unknown said: also you didn’t receive any messages maybe you’re the creepy one here

you said: i just disable my notifications because they are annoying

unknown said: that explains a lot, me thinks. do the same with mine! so you won’t be bothered and it won’t give away who i am

unknown said: i’m going out, do i take my hostage with me?

you said: sure, if i need i will contact you

you said: we still need to figure it out how to exchange phones

unknown said: yeah

unknown said: save your contact in my phone i’ve already saved mine

you said: how did you save it

unknown said: when you get your phone back you will see it ;)

Daniel clicks to save his own number, a mischief grin growing on his lips. He doesn’t know who this girl is, but she’s not that worried about leaving her cell phone with him, she won’t mind if he puts anything as his contact.

He decides to go with ‘hot stuff’, nothing that will immediately tell who he is, but it isn’t a lie as well.

—

“You’re crazy.” Charles says after taking a bite from his dinner, he looks up at you and can only find your silly smile “You use your phone for everything, especially your work and now, after finding out you didn’t lose it, you just accept that a stranger is using it and live with it.”

“There’s nothing for me to do, he’s still in Australia and I’m here.” You shrug “Do you have a better idea of how I can handle this?”

“Maybe tell him who you are?” Now it’s Pierre’s time to scold you and put some sense in your head “And ask who he is too, you’re trusting someone you have no idea who he is.”

“I have a gut feeling he means no harm, especially because I also have his phone too. He does something against me and I will answer the same way.” You probably sound as insane as you imagine you do, but you can’t help the exciting feeling you get from this. This person will get to know you without looking at your looks, the way you dress, if your hair is frizzy or if you didn’t wash your sneakers last night. No, he will solely know your true core and if he dislikes you or not, it’s his true opinion “I’m on my vacations, enjoying my free time with my friends and messing around as I should do more often. I’m tired of being overly worried about everything.”

Pierre tsks “You worry about minimal things, but this - something you should really worry about - you decide you should live your life fantasy with it.”

“Exactly!” You shout and both of them roll their eyes “I’ll have my phone back eventually.”

“This is so out of character I don’t think I recognize you.” Charles stares at you “But I will keep an eye on it, if he doesn’t pass to you my messages, we will know what is up here.”

“He told me about your message today, Bubbles.” You say “I don’t think he knows you’re bubbles, obviously. Imagine when Pierre texts and he sees ‘buttercup’, he will be thrilled to mess with us.”

“At least your disguise will continue, he won’t know you’re our friend.”

“I’m always thinking ahead of things, this is almost perfect.” You sound and look ridiculous, but you know deep down your friends are with you in this. If you need their help with your story with this cell phone, they’ll be there for you. They have always been “Ah, a new message from him.”

ma fraise said: why is your icloud photo a pink bloob with a knife and your email [email protected]?

you said: IT’S A KIRBY!!

you said: and the email i was going through a phase with a band and really liked this song of theirs. nothing special about it

you said: now stop snooping on my phone

ma fraise said: i’m so bored and without my phone

ma fraise said: but i only went to disable the notifications

ma fraise said: no snooping in my side

you said: me neither

you said: you’re still a blank canvas to me

you said: and i haven’t asked about your wallpaper yet

you said: you already know i’m a ferrari fan

ma fraise said: well, that’s…

ma fraise said: i can’t tell you without saying much about myself

ma fraise said: when we meet i can tell you

You look at the phone, analyzing the wallpaper, perhaps if you stare too much into it, it will give you some clue. It says nothing to you, sadly. It's graffiti on a white wall written ‘hi, howare you?’ and an alien below it. You think about asking Pierre and Charles if they, by any chance, have seen this anywhere. But your guts tell you to not do it, after all, you were the one that said you should keep it a mystery.

you said: is there something you can tell me about you then

you said: that won’t give away who you are

you said: but you know

you said: for us to get to know each other

you said: a secret for a secret

ma fraise said: is it a secret that you are a tifosi?

you said: well

you said: not exactly

you said: just don’t tell bubbles i am

ma fraise said: noted

ma fraise said: thank you for sharing that too, now i really have something on you

you said: damn it

��Are you going to stay on that phone the whole night?” Pierre is always the most straightforward with things, so obviously he would show his annoyance first.

“Chill, you were the one telling me that I should know more about this man, because he’s with an intimate and precious object of mine.” You put the phone away, having all of your attention on your friends again “Actually, you haven’t said that exactly, but it’s what I think I should do.”

“Are you willing to be his friend?” Pierre peers through his glass of water, trying to solve the mess you were at the moment.

“I need him to trust me, so I can trust him with my phone. Everything is about trust here, you see.”

“She’s not wrong, for once.” Charles is siding with you in this, which he normally doesn’t do. Charles only sides with himself “I think I might be going insane by spending so much time with you, because when you say it now, it makes sense.”

“See? I’m not fooling around here. Everything is already planned inside here.” You point to your head, the corners of your lips jerking.

Pierre and Charles roll their eyes at you.

ma fraise said: so you’re a trio

ma fraise said: there’s bubbles buttercup and you’re blossom, i figured

ma fraise said: also you watch too many romcoms in your netflix account for my taste

you said: stop snooping!!

You curl up on your bed, hugging your phone for a moment. You’ve been embarrassed the whole time you were chatting, especially because you’re used to people not liking you, aside from Pierre and Charles who have been around too long. But this stranger seems to like you, for who you’re.

For some reason, the thought of someone enjoying your company without even knowing you, makes your heart warm, comfortable and at ease. You normally don’t feel like this at all, but this night, you sleep quickly and with a shy smile showing up on your face.

—

It’s after the Australian GP and they decided to go to a bar. It’s just a few drivers, crew members and some friends, sitting around together on a circular table. Daniel stares too much in Pierre’s direction, on the other side of the table. He’s discussing something with a girl, someone Daniel feels like he’s supposed to know who she is, but there’s no trace of resemblance inside his mind at the moment. All he can think about is that he likes the way her lips move when she speaks, or how her eyes close when she sighs to whatever Pierre says. They aren’t drinking at the same speed as Daniel, but definitely are already drunk.

Charles looks to Max’s side, seeing him typing non stop on his phone, and he snorts at it.

“Okay, enough.” He says loudly, catching everyone’s attention, even Daniel’s “Let’s enjoy the night, shall we?” All the people on their table agree with him “Cellphones on the center of the table, the first to touch their phone, are paying for the night.”

There’s people Daniel has never seen in his life there, friends of friends, new girlfriends and boyfriends, but each of them leave the phone on the center of their table. Daniel doesn’t mind leaving it there, no one knows who each phone is, and they’re too drunk to think about the consequences right now.

Without the phones, they socialize more with each other, drink more and listen to Pierre’s dumb stories, that make everyone laugh in the end. It’s a nice night, in Daniel’s opinion.

The pile of phones stays there for the rest of the night and when Daniel is already leaving, there’s not many phones there. He doesn’t have to search for his phone, actually. There’s no way someone has a bright yellow phone case like him.

—

ma fraise said: i just hope you’re not gasly, by any chance.

ma fraise said: but i do have his phone number saved

you said: ouch you hurt me saying this. i could be gasly with a new phone

you said: but why are you hoping i’m not gasly?

ma fraise said: let’s say i did something embarrassing in front of him

ma fraise said: actually you’re totally not him

ma fraise said: he would be laughing at my face right now if you were him

you said: i’m a good actor.

you said: i might be fooling you into trusting me just to laugh at your face when you least expect it

ma fraise said: w-would

ma fraise said: would you do it

ma fraise said: gasly, i know it’s not you

you said: jk i don’t even know who this gasly boy is

you said: but he sounds fun tho

you said: probably not fun to you

(next chap)

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fiction #hope this is not confusing #okay thats enough daniel maybe charles next?#idk #awriting

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 years ago

Text

Spencer Reid - NSFW Alphabet

Ahh!! I've wanted to do this forever. Literally! +18 content below. . .

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

AFTERCARE — how are they after sex? The absolute best! Spencer is nothing but prepared. He would do research and just understand brain chemistry and hormones to know that aftercare is a must. It would simple. Maybe a long hot shower to clean up, ice cold water to hydrate, or good old cuddling.

BODY PART — favorite on your body and his Spencer was never one to like the way his body looked. He found himself too lanky and too skinny to be seen as attractive. But, after weeks of compliments, he realizes that you love his hands. It actually confuses him, but he's not one to complain if it means you're always holding his hand. So Spencer learned to love his hands because you always want to hold them or having him touching you in someway. It's pretty much universally agreed upon that Spencer is a boob man. He would fall asleep spooning holding your boobs as he slept. Or attempt to get you to take your shirt off as much as he can. Spencer loves boobies. And who can blame him

CUM — ... At first, he would be incredibly shy and nervous about it, but the first time he splattered it over your stomach he would probably go absolutely feral. But (again) it's pretty much a given that he has a breeding kink. The first time he didn't pull out or use a condom, Spencer's mind would just go blank from the sheer thought of it all.

DIRTY SECRET — what's something that no one would expect him to have/do Spencer has a wallet full of dirty pictures. He's too well versed in hacking to let you take pictures of yourself on a phone so he goes old school. He comes home one day with an old camera and takes loads of dirty pictures to keep tuck away in his wallet.

EXPERIENCE — how experienced/inexperience is he? Well, if it's season 1 Spencer, it's safe to say he was a virgin. The first time he has sex he would be overly cautious and nervous. He would be thinking that he's lucky to even be in this position of having sex with someone so pretty and nice. And more mid-seasons/late seasons Spencer would be slightly experienced maybe one or two more casual partners. In his first committed relationship, he'd feel really safe and loved to be a bit more experimental with things in the bedroom.

FAVORITE POSITION — ... Boob Man Spencer (TM) would go bananas for you riding him. He would lean forward with his hands wrapped around your torso and his face buried into your chest. But he would also adore a slow pace where both of your lie on your sides in like a spooning position. He would be able to kiss along your neck and feel your body pressed up against his. It would be his favorite for lazy Sunday mornings or the days when he actually doesn't have to go into work. It would def lead to falling asleep all over again.

GOOFY — is he silly or serious? He doesn't try to be goofy, but he's just so naturally nervous and jumpy the first time it turns into goofiness. But after he grows more secure in his relationship and sexuality, he let's his guard down and becomes more confident. Naturally this means him trying to get you to take your shirt off all the time. He would grab your shirt by the hem and bury his face in your boobs. But like established relationship/married Spencer would be a big goof because he knows he's worthy and loved and desired, so his guard is let down.

HAIR — grooming habits? He would keep himself trimmed and neat. And, while this isn't hair-related, he would 10000% not be a 6-1 wash guy. He has good shampoo and good smelling body wash and cleanser for his skin.

INTIMACY — how does he romance? SO ROMANTIC. He would be terrible at dirty talk in the beginning realistically at least. but he would be so much better at praise and whispering just how much he loves you. but eventually he'll grown into himself, figure out what you like and what's natural for him. He would give lots of kisses, until his lips and your lips actually hurt at the sensation. Spencer would also go wild when he see marks littered against his neck. It's not just sexy to him, but special because it means that he has someone who's just as into him as he's into you.

JACK-OFF — masturbation? (uhh so clinical) I mean considering he's somewhat of a late bloomer, he'd be very skilled that department. He would have a vividly imaginative memory for things but would 100% some inspiration in the form of suggestive to filthy polaroid pictures to even the occasional FaceTime call (once he upgraded his phone) on long cases.

KINK — one or more of kinks/turn-ons Spencer Reid, above all else, wants to please. He would blush and gush every time he gets called a 'good boy' or gets told that he's doing such a good job, so a praise kink is quite obvious. Spencer also has a hell of a breeding kink. He goes feral at the idea of getting his partner pregnant and starting a family. He just really loves the idea of creating someone who is part him and part the person he loves most in the world. But I also feel like he would have a dumbification kink. He's so smart but loves the idea of just being able to let go and let his mind go numb. He would absolutely lose his mind when he hears that 'you're such a dumb slut'. But he would also be very delicate in that kind of situation and need so much love to feel safe while being a little more "kinky"

LOCATION — favorite place to do it Ever the romantic, Spencer likes a bed because it's comfortable and easy to clean up (throw a towel down or toss sheets in the wash). But let's say you've decided to move in together into a house. He would be all about 'christening' every single room. The kitchen counters? Wipe it down with disinfectant later. The shower? He'd put down grip mats so he doesn't fall. The couch? Looks like Spencer's getting to live out his teenage fantasies of a pretty girl in his lap making out with him.

MOTIVATION — what gets him going Fully feel like kissing gets his gears going. He loves the feeling of lips dragging down his neck and nipping at his sensitive skin. And kissing his partner would also make him so motivated too. He would just love to sit on the couch with you in his lap or straddling his legs and just making out. It could lead to something else, but sometimes it's just the teenage makeout session of his dreams. And oh boy he would be blushing and giggling and super handsy during it. Totally just in his glory getting kissed till his lips are bitten and swollen.

NOISE — how loud does he get? SO NOISY. Spencer would not be able to keep quiet for the life of him. He would whimper when you touch his chest and cup his face for a kiss, let alone touch him in more intimate areas. And his whimpers would be the cutest thing in the world too

ORAL — preference (giving or receiving), skill Totally a giver. He's the type to actually beg to eat out his partner. He would be so attentive and eager to learn and that just translates so well into him giving good oral. He would get so much pleasure out of seeing his partner get pleasure, and of course would cum in his pants from the act. But he's more than eager to receive. He would find it so intimate. Like all season of Spencer would be blushing like crazy seeing you down on your knees for him. He wouldn't want to be pushy, so you'd put his hands on your head, telling him it's okay to be a tab bit rough and that would just end him.

PACE — fast and rough or slow and sensual? Mostly slow and sensual. He's a romantic and I feel like for him, sex is something that's very intimate and shared with someone he loves and adores. And to him, love and adoration means he's taking his time and being gentle. But that of course doesn't mean there's times when he'll want something faster and rougher. Probably if his partner is wearing a sundress or his cardigans or dreaming about their future children (because Spencer's breeding kink short circuits his brain)

QUICKIE — does he like them? how often? He likes kissing and foreplay too much for a quickie lol. He'd be down for just about anything, but quickies aren't his style. Spencer likes to take his time, enjoy his partner's pleasure. For him the lead up is just as important as the "thing"

RISKY — is he willing to try new things in bed? Yes and no. He probably knows exactly what could go wrong at any moment and is terrified of either having to go to the hospital with a sex injury or to call a friend (probably Derek for help lol). But if it's something tamer, like toys in bed, different positions, light bondage he'd totally be down if it's a mutual thing.

STAMINA — multiple rounds? It's a toss up. Sex to him is very emotional and he's more reserved and quiet so it might take a lot out of him. Maybe if it's a "marathon event" with snacks and clean clothes and showers and sleep at the end he'll be going for awhile.

TOYS — does he own them? use them on his partner? He's a scientist and would just love to experiment (terrible joke). But would probably try to figure out what the best vibrator is. OK hear me out. He would buy a bunch of vibes and other toys and test them all out one night, trying to figure out which one gives you the best orgasm. And he'd totally leave it by the side table in the bedroom for...uh...company while he's gone.

UNFAIR — is he a tease? or generous? A happy medium. He would be so entuned to what your body likes that he'd find that perfect middle ground of teasing and being generous. But for the most part, he'd be more generous than not. He doesn't have a very strong resolve when it comes to someone he loves and adores I think.

X-RAY — what's underneath all those sweater vests He would probably be super insecure in his body. Spencer doesn't have muscles and towards the end of series he filled out (wonderfully might I add). He would feel like his body isn't desirable, but it's actually quiet the contrary. Spencer would blush and get all flustered when he's complimented. Oh his dick is huge. (remember when @reidslibrarybook used math to figure it out. i love nat)

YEARNING — how high is his sex drive Probably on the higher side, especially when he gets into a committed and loving relationship. After feeling so undesired and unworthy of love and a relationship, when he finally has someone that wants to jump his bones, he'll be making up for lost time. And perhaps his partner feels the same way. They'd both be going at it like bunnies, finally thrilled and elated to have someone that thinks they're attractive and wonderful and desirable.

ZZZ — does he fall asleep right after sex? No, he's super into snuggling/showering after that sleep can wait. He would also just love morning sex and would have to go to work afterwards. He totally would have a pep in his step when you have morning sex before work.

@reidslovely @reidsbookclub @spencerreidat3am @fightingdragonswithreid @hotchandspencearedilfs @sadgirlml @spencerslibrary @foxy-eva @paperbackprettyboy @reidselle @alexxavicry @justlivinginadaydream @reidsmilf @mrs-dr-reid @spencerreidsmommy

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x female reader

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blasphemecel · 2 years ago

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Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez — HADŌ 98: Massage

PAIRING: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez/Reader WORD COUNT: 3k TYPE: Humor, Maybe a little fluff(???) WARNING(S): None I think but there’s a lot of slapstick jokes and like maybe 2 innuendos

Grimmjow is prone to staring down at people and appearing vaguely murderous. Sometimes he glares at you, and sometimes he glares at Urahara and Yoruichi, but you ignore him when he does that. His expressions can border on contemplative, though you doubt there's anything worthwhile running through his head. You imagine his thoughts to be split like this: 60% auto-fellatio, 30% killing people he dislikes or ones who mildly inconvenience him in his mind and 10% a secret, third thing.

Currently, he's giving you a blank look and you can't help but find it funny, the way he's always pushing his jaw out. It must be a tenuous effort, considering he has seduced no one with this move yet, but you opt to ignore him while you scroll through your phone.

You give your friend's video where they're waterboarding someone a like and ignore the post about a ghost named Marmalade Venice haunting you if you don't share her story with thirteen others. Obviously this is all very thrilling and requires your full attention, but Grimmjow breaks the silence.

"Hey." He scratches his head. Briefly, you wonder if Arrancar can get lice. "What's a massage?"

No matter how engaging your tapping was, you disregard it and instead glance at him from the corner of your eye. His general ignorance amuses you since the first time he tried using a blender. He almost hacked his hand off, and you're not sure how he even achieved that. Still, you don't know why he'd be interested in this topic out of the blue. Instead of asking him to elaborate — because you know just how impatient he is, and you take some kind of joy in pissing him off — you merely raise your eyebrows.

"I heard the woman talking about it. What is it?"

"It's a thing," you say unhelpfully before returning your attention to your phone.

You see him reach out towards the object in your grasp; you assume to discard it somewhere and destroy it. Before he can do so, you throw it in the trash can near where you're sitting and kick it away. Grimmjow looks at you in a way which suggests he finds you stupid and perhaps incredulous, and you suppose this is fine since that's what you think about him too.

You crack your knuckles and offer, "Why don't you let me show you if you wanna know so bad?"

"You tryna fight?"

"No, idiot, I'm offering a massage."

Grimmjow frowns at this. When you wiggle your fingers threateningly in his direction, all he asks is, "You ain't expecting me to pay, right?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Trust me Grimmjow, I don't need the dead flies in your pockets."

He bares his teeth at you like that'll scare you and you poke out your tongue at him. For a second you think he's about to grab it and pull it out and probably kill you, but then he seems to remember he wants something from you and restrains himself.

"And how does that work?"

You scratch your chin, wondering how you should go about this, meaning you're already planning how far you'll push it. "First, take off your stupid jacket."

"My jacket is NOT stupid!"

"Is it that serious?"

"Yes," he says, looking at you dead in the eyes. You think he might be trying to intimidate you, but it's not really working.

After you don't scramble to bow down to him and apologize and maybe even cry tears of regret, but simply stare at him like he's only an impudent bug, he huffs and throws the garment on the floor.

"You know, for someone who was really hellbent on defending that jacket, you don't treat it with a lot of care," you point out with a snicker. Maybe you'll step on it later, if you remember.

"It's a fucking jacket, it doesn't need a babysitter."

"Alright, whatever," you dismiss. "It didn't need an attorney either, but here we are."

Grimmjow, most likely unaware of what an attorney is, changes the subject. "Why'd you want me to be naked, anyway? Not that I blame you."

You raise your hand and turn your palm to his face as a telepathic attempt to erase all moronic thoughts from his head. It doesn't work because no one can cure stupidity and Grimmjow's grin drops before he narrows his eyes at you like you're the one being an imbecile.

"You're gonna lie down," you say and point at the futon the two of you usually sleep in when you have to stay overnight at Urahara's place. Grimmjow looks at you strangely and you expect him to oppose you or something, but he surprises you by reluctantly doing what you told him to.

Grimmjow uses his hands as cushions for his head. You can't see what expression he's making like this, but you can only guess he's getting impatient. With minor consideration, you plop your entire weight on top of him, though of course he pretends it's not a big deal and that he was born to power lift or whatever it is he's always yapping about. Almost experimentally, you prod his exposed back with your finger.

It's a little weird like this, but you started it, so you'll act as if it's all normal. The only time you and Grimmjow touch is to slap things out of each other's hands or to wrestle, so the feeling is a little jarring. Though you doubt he has any hangups about it.

"You're a little tense," you say with a twinge of intrigue in your tone.

"I'm not tense. This is the most relaxed I've been in my life," Grimmjow insists.

Your forehead scrunches in annoyance. "Do you have to be so defensive about everything?!"

"I'm not being defensive. You're just delusional."

For a second you're about to give in and entertain this baseless argument — one of many —, but then you decide you'll shut him up for good. You try to press his back, but you find his muscles are... stuck? How fucked up could his back really be? You blink in shock and understand this won't be as easy as you expected.

But it's a challenge, and you don't mind a challenge.

"Are you so shredded 'cause you're always flexing?" you ask, curious how he could be so rigid.

"You like what you see or something?"

"I was taunting you!"

"Oh really? Is that how you make fun of people, by being like 'you're so hot and sexy with big abs'?" he asks sarcastically, going out of his way to glance at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"You're doing too much now," you say. "I didn't say all that."

"I hope you ain't embarrassed 'cause you talk a big game."

With a flare of irritation, you use both of your hands to apply pressure. You grimace and back away from him when you hear a loud crunch, but Grimmjow just lets out a sigh of relief. You assume he’s not aware he’s doing this, he’s too prideful for that. It must've been a hard knot.

Either you broke his back, and he liked how it felt or you actually achieved something with this massage, so in your opinion, you did no harm.

You move your hands to his shoulders and knead his muscles there, rubbing tenderly, though if you have to admit it, this is straining you more than you thought it would. You're kind of curious why he's all tight since you see him stretch all the time, though it wouldn't surprise you if you found out he goes way out of his comfort level just to prove himself.

What he's proving, you're not sure, but that's how things stand with Grimmjow.

Something else you find odd is how he's not saying anything useless or otherwise irritating at this moment. You'd expected him to jeer at you and maybe ask you if that's all the strength you have, treat it as a fight and try to provoke you, but all you've drawn out of him so far are sighs and grunts.

Grimmjow, too, predicted he'd dislike the sensation and use it as an excuse to lash out at you. The moment he figured this would involve you touching him in this proximity, he was on alert and ready to dislike it preemptively, but...

He likes it? He feels warm and you're being tender and maybe this is for pussies. However, he'll enjoy it for now. Clearly, this massage shit is something demonic, anyway. You knead his neck and Grimmjow whimpers again, making you try to stifle your laughter at this.

Ooh, he's so pathetic like this! You need to store the occasion in your head as blackmail material.

After you work out his knots, you decide you can find more entertainment and try to think of a way to take advantage of the situation. Then you notice something unpleasant. "Grimmjow you ingrate, are you drooling?!"

"I'm not drooling, stop making shit up," he mumbles like he was on the verge of falling asleep.

"I was gonna put my head on that pillow tonight, you know?"

"Well, too bad. You can sleep in the toilet if you'd like," he tells you with a laugh even though it's not even that funny, if at all.

"I'll spit in your face when you least expect it!"

"Whatever, just keep doing this massage thing."

An idea comes to mind. Instead of massaging him, this time you run your fingers down his back, lightly scraping his skin with your nails, just enough to scratch. Even when he doesn't react, you don't miss the goosebumps breaking out everywhere you touch and the slight shiver which rattles him.

You find yourself somewhat fascinated by this. He's like putty in your hands, so you continue caressing him until it finally occurs to you. "People have only touched you to beat your ass, right? Ha."

"No one beats my ass."

"Yeah, except Ichigo and half the other Espadas, especially Nnoitra-"

Abruptly, Grimmjow sits up and turns around to throw the object nearest to him right in your face, which is an entire table. Then he has the nerve to glare at you even though you already sport an enormous bruise on your forehead from this act of treason.

Instead of seething, you push him away, then wrap your hands around his armpits and pull him upwards into you until you hear his back let out a painful pop. Faintly you can make him out cursing at you and asking you what's wrong with you, but you're too deep into character to care about his complaints. After you may have broken his back a second time, you feel satisfied enough to shove him to the floor.

"It's a knock-out! Officer down," you declare before you stand up in triumph and start chanting happily, "Loser, loser!" Then you strike a pose and take aim at him as you had planned to treat him to your favorite practice you've learned from the chiropractor ASMR human videos: the part where they dig their elbows in the patient's spine.

Briefly, you wonder if you're experiencing what they call a 'concussion'.

___

You're doing something on your phone again when Grimmjow sits down next to you. Then he scoots closer to you — you assume trying to be inconspicuous — but you pay him no mind, too engaged in whatever you're doing.

"Oi," he says.

You swipe on your phone more aggressively.

"I'm talking to you!" he snaps.

If you don't play by his whims, he'll probably break your phone for real this time. You scowl at him like he's the scum of the earth when you turn towards him. "Grimmjow, WHAT could be more pressing than this level of Candy Crush I'm playing?"

"What's Candy Crush?"

"Let me show you since you're clearly uneducated-"

Grimmjow shakes his head, regretting to have asked. "Nevermind this bullshit, I-"

Despite his clear disinterest in Candy Crush, you still shove your screen in his face, almost blinding him. You're babbling some sort of explanation and he leans away from you.

"Why are you still talking?" he asks, irritated. "I said I don't care."

Again, you look at him as if he's a fungus under your toenail, and then you revert to messing around on your game. Grimmjow continues his attempts to communicate in Grimmjow language, which comprises mainly nonsensical body language cues. Within your peripheral vision, you can see him inching closer to you again, and then turning his back on you, and then giving you the Kubrick stare after a while of you not doing anything in response to his antics.

Having had enough of this, you sigh and prompt him. "Words?"

"Nghhh."

"Very helpful," you say sarcastically as you finish your Candy Crush level.

"Can you do that thing again?" he requests while making vague, limp-wristed gestures in the air.

You tilt your head in curiosity as you try to decipher what he means, considering him with an expression that's a tad too thoughtful.

"No, I demand it," he says suddenly before he yanks your wrist and awkwardly places your hand on his back.

You bark out a laugh at his immaturity, though you oblige him, slipping your hand under his sad excuse for a jacket to reach him better. You can tell he's shivering again and this time, you notice him melt into it and smile. Perhaps mentally disturbed, you find it endearing, though you remind yourself you can't think that crap about a man who threw a table at you over a smartass comment. He has the worst temper issues you've ever had the displeasure of observing, even if amusingly. No, he's a bloodthirsty, backstabbing lunatic. You can't find him cute!

(You think you might only find it funny because you don’t take anything seriously, but this is besides the point.)

"You're like a bossy cat," you point out.

"Don't compare me to these stupid beasts! They don't even have swords or anything, they're pussies."

Beasts? Regardless, you explain, "Well, I read in a book that humans in Egypt used to worship them like gods."

"Well, in that case, I'll reconsider what you said," he announces with a smirk.

You're too easy, you scold in your head, though you keep your commentary to yourself just this once. Sitting with Grimmjow in silence is to your liking, mostly because you find everything he says irritating, of course.

As the minutes pass by, you continue your ministrations and he ends up invading your personal space even more. Since he has been tolerable so far, you stroke his neck lightly, and then card your fingers through his hair.

And then you hear something that makes you falter, eyes widening in shock. "Did you just purr...?"

Grimmjow jumps away from you like you have gonorrhea, which you find ironic-slash-hypocritical since he was the one insisting on your touch about a second ago. This time, before he can smack you on the head with a newspaper he produced from somewhere, you notice his face is red as hell. "I didn't do anything like that, you stupid piece of shit!"

If nothing else, those are brave words coming from the mouth of a grown man who's blushing like a schoolgirl.

"You can't just try to gaslight me anytime I say something you don't like," you yell before you grab a vase and hurl it at him.

"Well, watch me."

"That's not the comeback you think it is."

The two of you press your foreheads together and grimace constipated faces at each other and hiss like deranged animals until you grow bored of it and separate as if nothing had happened.

___

Grimmjow is crouching in the corner like a creep while you're reading a book. Again, being used to his... quirks, it isn't enough to disturb you from your activity, even though he seems to observe you with newfound seriousness. For good measure, maybe to convey said newfound seriousness, he throws in a few chin scratches during his thorough examination of you.

You turn to the next page.

Grimmjow stands up, hands in his pockets. He's kind of hunching, which is his usual stance for when he's trying to either be cool or intimidating, but again, you're unsure of what he's trying to achieve in this moment.

He fixates his gaze on you. Memories run through his head, and he's contemplating what to do with them.

"Hey. What's a massage?"

"Why don't you let me show you if you wanna know so bad?"

"What's Candy Crush?"

"Let me show you since you're clearly uneducated-"

Grimmjow pinches his eyebrows together in his best attempt at feigning an air of ignorance. His tone sounds somewhat chagrined, though you haven't even done anything to piss him off today. "[Y/n]."

You don't tear your attention away from the passage you're reading since the drama in this novel is getting engaging. Still, this is kind of new. Usually Grimmjow says 'oi' and expects you to be at his beck and call, screams 'you' like it's an efficient descriptor, or he calls you a stupid piece of shit or a moron and a stupid piece of shit moron when he's feeling verbose. Maybe this is important, if he's calling you by your actual name.

"What?" you ask, finally shifting your eyes in his direction.

You think he's trying to keep it together, but then Grimmjow seems unable to help himself and graces you with his signature killer grin before he raises you his all-encompassing question. "[Y/n], what's sex?"

Without so much as a twitch of your eye or a scrunch of your nose, you swiftly slap the book closed and fling it at his temple. Your toss is successful in toppling Grimmjow over. "You have like, NO game."

#grimmjow x reader #grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader #grimmjow imagine #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach imagine #one shot

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bi-bard · 2 years ago

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Rebuilding - Emily Prentiss Imagine (Criminal Minds/Supernatural)

Title: Rebuilding

Pairing: Emily Prentiss X Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 2,989 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, bank robbery, mention of murder

Summary: (Season 7, Episode 23 & 24) When a crew of bank robbers take a blow at the heart of the B.A.U, the team goes on high alert. The following events prove that destruction can truly lead to more than one kind of rebuilding.

Author's Note: Oh, it has been too long.

Also, do you guys like the new OC banners? I thought they'd help differentiate the OC imagines from other imagines.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

"You can't go."

I groaned at Sam's comment.

I was on the phone with my brother while getting some things put together. I was already prepared to run off to help with the Leviathan situation they were facing. I was supposed to have at least the day off, so it was all going to work out.

"(Y/n), you probably have your own threats to worry about there," he explained.

"I'm going to hope you're referring to my normal line of threats and not the Leviathan kind of threats," I muttered.

"There's no way Dick Roman has as much pull as he does without having someone helping him get in with the government."

I ran a hand over my face. "Okay. Fine. I'll stay in D.C."

"Thank you."

"I expect a phone call as soon as you guys are done with the job, got it," I switched into older sibling mode in a moment. "We... Too much has gone wrong, got it? I need to know that you two are okay."

"I'll call, I promise."

"Alright, love you, tell Dean that I said I love him too, and please don't get yourselves killed."

"Love you too," he replied. "Have a good day."

I ended the call soon after that. "I'll try-"

My phone rang again before I could even get the sentence out.

"Hello," I said.

"We need you to come in," Hotch was on the other end of the phone.

"Why," I asked.

"Bank robbery, hostage situation."

My heart dropped for a moment. Natural reaction after what had happened earlier this year.

"On my way," I muttered.

Most cases had a pause. The jet ride there was enough to prevent complete panic, but at times like these, that just wasn't possible. J.J and ended up riding to the crime scene together. The rest of the team- Hotch, Spencer, Morgan, and Emily- were already waiting there with J.J's husband, who had gotten a shot off on one of the robbers.

She gave him a hug as we made it over.

"The media's calling them the Face Cards," Hotch explained as we walked over to the center of operations. "Seven bank robberies in seven months. They kill one person at each robbery."

"M.O?" Rossi stepped in front of the rest of us.

"Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out."

"Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now," Emily asked.

"Headquarters characterized them as robbers first, killers second," Hotch replied.

"No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies," Spencer argued.

"I disagreed with the original assessment," Hotch said. "I was overruled."

"So, why are we here now?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Because crisis negotiation is overseas."

"What more do we know about them," J.J asked.

"They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes."

"They gotta be scouting the banks in advance," Morgan commented. "Why haven't we been able to I.D. them off of surveillance footage?"

"They hacked the security feed during both the initial canvas and during the robbery," Hotch led us all into the truck. Garcia was already there, hard at work. "Until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch."

My stomach churned at the word 'allowed'. Like it was a show.

There's this thing with hostage situations.

Everyone wants to get it done as quickly as possible, but even that could take hours. There are just too many factors. Identifying, negotiating, minimal loss of hostages.

Too much to consider in what never felt like enough time.

We had been fortunate enough to have access to the surveillance cameras. It gave us more to work with.

But nothing was ever ideal. Especially when a crew seemed so detached when it came to their crime.

I had gone back with Emily, J.J, and Spencer to investigate the victimology.

The queen had been the only one shooting. The one that's truly in charge of the operation. Time, kills, everything but grabbing the money. Grabbing the money was the king's job.

The key was going to be turning the king and the queen against each other.

And then one of the brothers died.

That's when things started crumbling.

We made it back to the scene sometime later.

I was trying to stay focused on the case at hand, but I could feel my mind wandering. I was still thinking about Sam and Dean. I could only hope that they were just still on the job and that it wasn't the fact that no one was left to call me.

"You alright?" Emily touched my arm.

I nodded. "Sam and Dean are on a... dangerous hunt. I'm worried."

"What makes this one so dangerous," she asked.

"It just is."

Since Emily came back after faking her death, things had been different. After our fight and separation, most of the tension had seemed to clear itself. At work, at the very least. But I still hadn't gotten to the point where I was comfortable sharing every detail of what was going on. It was hard. She seemed to respect that.

She nodded to me and kept moving.

Will and Morgan were looking at blueprints of the bank when Emily, J.J, and I walked over.

"Garcia caught us up," Emily said as we made it over. "Why instigate a hostage situation?"

"What's a narcissist without attention?" Morgan replied. "She thrives on it."

"She's got to have some greater plan here," I muttered.

"We need to separate Chris and the female to find out what that is," Emily added.

"It's not gonna be hard, they're already on edge," Morgan explained.

We watched as Rossi attempted to drive a wedge between them. Attempted. It didn't quite work. Instead, he demanded to speak to the cop that shot his brother.

Most of the team went inside the truck, but Emily and I stayed outside with Rossi.

Another hostage shot every thirty seconds. That's what the promise was. Emily ran inside to tell the team the news.

"Second chain of bank robberies in a year," Rossi muttered to me. "It feels like the world is falling apart."

"That's not even the half of it," I mumbled, more to myself than him.

"What?"

I looked at him. I had to very quickly come up with an answer. "We work a dangerous job. Every case we work makes it feel like the world is falling apart."

He nodded.

They were getting ready to make an ambush, but no one moved. I made it over to Morgan, Emily, and J.J next to one of the police cars. And then, Will went walking in front of the rest of them.

J.J tried to run over as he did. Morgan and I went to grab her at the same time.

When two gunshots rang out, it felt like everyone's hearts stopped at once.

Everyone loaded into the truck again in silence. Nothing could've eased the tension. Nothing. It was just the team in silence with the buzzing of the now-dead surveillance camera.

I wanted to call that moment the first domino. Realistically, the robbery itself should've taken on the title, but Will going into that bank was the biggest escalation of the day.

After that, it was like all hell had broken loose.

The team moved. We were ready to go in.

And then, all the hostages walked out. No word or warning. They just walked out.

Clear way in.

Until the bank blew up.

I remembered hearing Rossi in my ear literally a moment before it happened.

I pushed myself off the ground, trying to ignore the ringing in my ears. I looked around the crowd. Emily had already gone inside through the back door.

J.J and I shared a look before both going to run inside.

Emily was in a room in the back, looking in on the condition of a people that had been hiding away in the back. Will was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the robbers.

J.J ran to check for Will. I stayed with Emily and the couple.

The older woman begged for us to let her stay with her husband. We tried to comfort her, promise that they were both going to be okay. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself focused.

I glanced at Emily before shaking my head and going back to the couple.

A few medics came in to help them.

"Come on," I said as Emily coughed again.

"I can stay-"

"The medics will take care of it."

She finally let me pull her outside. I got her some water and guided her back to the truck.

It was all complete chaos. Everyone was trying to make moves, but no one quite knew where to start.

We were all watching the nearby street cams. The two of them had taken a federal vehicle from the scene. Will was alive and with them. The only thing that we needed to do was figure out where they were going and what their endgame could possibly be.

We got a report of a medic getting shot. It was the only sign that Will was still alive. Cameras caught the entire event.

This was an hour after the explosion. It was the best sign that the next attack was going to be in the city.

Which only helped us so much, but it was better than nothing.

There was another man involved in the incident. He had been playing the role of one of the hostages. It was a pair of extreme adrenaline junkies.

Watching J.J spiral into tunnel vision was... scary. She was nothing short of a badass, making her angry wasn't going to end well. I wanted to say that she wouldn't cross the line, but to protect her family... I had seen that drive a lot of people to do things that they never would've done before.

When she found out that the woman from the robbery knew where she and Will lived, I'm almost certain that J.J only saw red. She hid it well, but I knew the signs. I had grown up seeing them. On Dean, on Sam, even on my dad at times... I knew the moment when all reason went out the window in the name of saving the ones you loved.

Which means I knew that J.J was unstoppable at that point.

She and Rossi took off to her place. The rest of us were on the truck. Still looking, investigating... hoping.

We went back into the explosion site.

"Why didn't they take all the money," Spencer asked.

"They were a man down and needed to get out in a hurry," Morgan replied.

"But she had this planned," I argued. "Not only that, but she was also calm the whole time. Disconnected. The man down didn't worry her and she wasn't here for the money alone."

"Everything they've said and done was for a reason," Morgan said. "But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. She changed it to Chad. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland."

"They also requested a private plan, but no mention of a pilot," Emily pointed out.

"Even the dates mean something," Spencer added. "In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then, in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And this... 2012."

"You think the attack is meant to line up with an election year," I said. "Political statement? Dishonorable discharge could be a trigger for him. Feels used and thrown out by the country he fought to protect. Could be seeking vengeance."

"It's their story," Emily replied.

"Like the woman from earlier? Her husband was her story?"

"All of the details are a part of their story," Emily nodded.

We all followed Emily back out to the truck.

"Their timelines suggest that they were both destructive before they met."

"An ex-soldier turning on their country," Strauss asked.

"It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised, no matter the nationality," Emily explained.

"If he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them," I added.

"You're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08," Hotch replied.

"And one or both of them are pilots," Spencer added.

"If Garcia focuses on that region, specifically weapons moving in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find when their paths crossed," Emily suggested. Garcia nodded, starting to work on tracking that down.

"Alright," Garcia said. "Multiple entries for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name."

"She had aliases," Emily replied. "That's the only way to stay a ghost. Here's the thing, they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe, they will celebrate themselves and their connection. Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?"

"Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss, but this news is not," I had to fight the attempt of a small grin that wanted to cross my lips when Emily got complimented. "Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08."

"Where were the most casualties," Hotch asked.

"A... train."

"Symtex and C-4," Morgan asked.

"Yup."

"Are trains still arriving at Union Station," I looked over at Strauss.

"Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in."

"They have Will and a government vehicle," I pointed out.

The team loaded into the S.U.Vs and took off toward Union Station. The place was already surrounded and being evacuated when we showed up.

It was still chaotic when we got inside and tried to find Matthew Downs and Will.

Morgan's voice rang in my ear that he saw the suspect going toward the East exit. I looked around for Emily as I started heading that way. I had no idea where she was.

"I found Will," was the next message that came through on the earpiece. I sighed and took off in Morgan's direction.

"Is he mobile," Hotch asked.

"Negative," she replied. "He's got six transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow."

I almost froze.

"Where are you, I'm heading that way," Hotch said.

"No, you gotta get everyone out," Emily insisted. "Is the bomb squad here yet?"

"They're three minutes away."

"Copy."

After that, the radio went quiet. I tried to keep myself focused on helping Morgan, but I could already feel the worry eating at my stomach. I felt like I should go back. Get Emily the hell out of there.

No. No. Morgan needed me here. I needed to help him.

I watched Morgan drag Matthew off the fence before Matthew slammed him against it.

I pulled my gun, planning to just threaten the guy until he turned and slammed Morgan against a dumpster next to them. I fired a shot a few moments after that and waited until Matthew had fallen to the ground before I lowered my weapon.

"You alright," I asked Morgan. He nodded, touching his throat. "Come on."

Morgan and I were just rounding the corner when I saw Emily, Will, and Hotch making their way out. I took off running.

"Emily!"

She looked over as soon as I yelled. She was about to say something, but I pulled her into a hug before she could. She slowly hugged me back, I felt her hide her face in my shoulder.

My chest hurt.

Even after the anxiety and panic had faded, I was in pain after everything had happened. I was tired. I needed to correct things. Stop wasting time.

I leaned back a bit. Just far enough to look at her.

And it was definitely more impulsive than I would've liked, but I kissed her.

The whole thing lasted a matter of seconds before I seemed to snap back to my senses and leaned away again.

"I... I'm sorry," I shook my head. "That was... I shouldn't-"

"It's okay," she stopped me.

"Really?"

She nodded before leaning in and kissing me again. I kept thinking about how much I had missed this before. I tried to pull her closer to me, even though that wasn't really possible.

She leaned back first this time.

"I really missed that," I mumbled, my eyes still shut as my forehead touched hers.

"So did I," she said before grabbing my hand. "Come on, we gotta go."

I nodded, letting our fingers intertwine.

As we walked away from the station, my phone started ringing. It was Sam on the other line.

"Hey, finally, what happened-"

"Dean's gone."

"What," I asked, stopping where I was. Emily looked back at me.

"He... He killed Dick and now Dean and Cas are just gone. I have no idea where they are, and Crowley won't tell me and he got Kevin-"

I felt like I just went numb for a few moments. When I looked at Emily, I seemed to snap into focus again.

"Alright, alright, Sam," I cut off his rambling. "I... I'm at a crime scene. I'm going to head home and call you back. I need you to get out of wherever the fuck you are and wait for me to call, got it?"

"Okay."

"We'll figure this out, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

"Now, go."

I ended the call before walking over to Hotch. I muttered something to him about a family emergency and he told me to just go. Emily followed me.

"What happened," she asked as we made it to one of the S.U.Vs.

"That really dangerous hunt that I mentioned?" I said. "It went wrong."

"What?"

"Something happened to Dean and Cas."

"I thought Cas was dead."

"Oh, shit, I have a lot to fill you in on," I muttered. I ran my hands over my face.

"Hey," she grabbed one of my hands. "It's gonna be fine. One step at a time."

I nodded before going to start the car.

One step at a time.

I could handle that.

Hopefully.

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

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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bnhabadass · 3 years ago

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Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?” Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mob boss bakugou!!!#mafia au #mha mafia au #bnha bakugo #bnharem #bnharem collab #tw: dubcon #tw: alcohol #tw: overdose

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

masterpost

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

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yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday

Pairings: The Avengers x reader

Summary:

It’s your birthday and the team gets creative on how to surprise you, putting their acting skills to the test.

Word count: 2,350

A/n: just a little something because,, well,, it’s my birthday *runs away* also it’s cheesy, hopefully it makes sense lmao

Warnings: uhhh brief mention of explosion? mostly fluff

The Avengers wanted to get creative for your birthday this year. For the few years they've known you they picked up on things about you. One, you paid no mind to your birthday at all and just considered it a normal day like the rest of the 365, Tony took note that you hated parties, at least the really big ones, something that involved only the team would be good.

Okay, you sound like a party pooper, but that isn't the case; it's not a crime to just... not want to have a grand celebration, right? And people singing the 'happy birthday' song to you too while you just sit there in silence. It's awkward, you once told Natasha. It’s also awkward and hard for you to receive presents even though that’s what birthdays are all about, you’re still getting used to it since you knew someone like Tony Stark.

Well, the team think you're an amazing friend and they all treat you like family. They're so glad they met someone like you.

You're immediately called to the conference room on that day. Only to find the team arguing and pointing fingers at one another.

You kinda just slot in, sitting on the chair you usually sit on whenever there's a meeting or mission briefing. Glancing around, you try and find out what they're fighting about.

Security. Suits. Brief mention of Ultron. Rhodey busying himself with phones, probably making a lot of calls. Natasha and Clint talking among themselves, only raising their voice whenever they're included in the conversation which mainly consisted of Tony and Steve arguing.

"Suit up, get the jet ready." Steve dismisses but before he could walk out himself you raise your hand.

"Hey, sorry, I just woke up," you say sheepishly but coolly at the same time. "What happened, is everyone supposed to go? Can I read the file?" Because if this is an Avengers-level threat that required everyone, you'd want to know all about it.

His sharp and expression softens slightly when he looks at you. "No file, I'm afraid. Some of the compound's security protocols have been compromised, someone hacked in." He proceeds to tell you how they particularly had interest in Bruce and Tony's lab so the other rooms were untouched.

Apparently, they took blueprints and materials, maybe a handful of Tony's suits.

But if you think about it, those two carelessly letting the security to their lab loose? Highly unlikely...

You push the thought to the back of your mind and nod when Steve tells you to get ready. Stark tech can be dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Let alone the Iron Man suits.

Fortunately, those things have trackers. Leaving you to wonder again why those idiots don't even try and take them off so they won't tracked?

Sat on the floor of the jet while everyone was strangely quiet but once again you didn't pay any mind, you sharpen a few of your knives. Natasha sat on a stool near you, idly picking her nails. An hour into the flight you furrow your brows and look around.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," Tony states quickly and a matter-of-factly. They all share glances before he continued. "It's the tension. Sorry. My fault."

"It's not your fault, Tony," Bruce starts.

"I'm sorry, to whom were those stolen suits again?" Steve speaks up as well and you could tell it's gonna be a full blown argument again.

"Now hold on just a second-" Tony faces the super soldier to counter.

You merely blink, not expecting a simple question to turn out like this. Clint just glances from the pilot's seat and Natasha almost cracks a smile by the look of your face. If only you knew it was all fake, all planned. But what does she know? You're a spy too, maybe you've figured out what they're up to and decided to play along.

Sad to say you're still oblivious. Maybe the fact that you only slept three hours last night is one case. You wanted nothing more than your bed right now.

Heck, not one of them wished you a happy birthday but you didn't notice at all.

Tuning out their bickering you sit down next to Natasha who's the only one not in the argument.

"I haven't seen Wanda all day," you say and she turns her head to face you. "Or Sam, or Bucky."

"Probably not back from their mission." Natasha answers promptly.

You frown at that. "Steve made this sound like an Avengers-level threat, and it is, shouldn't they be here?"

You don't wait for a response, opening up a globe-shaped hologram that shows where the jet, represented by a blinking dot. Your eyes slightly widen when you see the target location which is one of the places you've been dying to visit your whole life.

Maybe it's just a coincidence. You definitely didn't expect to visit it for the first time on a mission though.

Natasha clears her throat. "Hey, have you read the book I gave you?" She subtly closes the globe up when she catches your attention.

You shake your head bashfully. "You know I'm a slow reader. Give me two months then I'll come back to you." You laugh. Natasha smiles and tells you to take your time. "Have you read the book I gave you?"

"I loved it."

"I knew you would!" You say excitedly and the next few moments you discuss about the specific book. She's just glad you didn't ask any further questions about the location.

All of you split up once you reach the base but Rhodey and Bruce stay in the jet as backup. The place reminded you so much of the old Avengers tower, only with darker themes. You're paired with Clint who you follow to the side of the building, with surprisingly no cautiousness. He just... ran in, entrance deserted of guards.

You all had a digital, tech checklist to see what was stolen including all the suit names. So far you've searched two drawers now and still no sign of any agent or guard. But it's weird since the others are clearly doing their part on their floors. Thuds, footsteps and sometimes banging sounds could be heard all around.

“Finally," you mutter when you hear footsteps behind you, spinning around so suddenly to surprise your enemy and take him down with ease. You raise an eyebrow when they don't put up a fight at all.

Clint was in front of a computer when you peek in to one of the rooms but he waves you off. "I'll meet you on the next floor. This'll take a second."

"One suit on the roof!" you hear Steve grunt through your earpiece.

"Remember to remove the arc reactor, that'll shut them down for sure." Bruce reminds through everyone's comms.

You hear Tony let out a noise. "Might have a problem with that, Banner, they're all reprogrammed."

Expecting the man with seven Ph. D's to worry, it only took him a minute to respond back. "It's your tech. I don't believe they could do that completely especially having them for only twelve hours."

"In that case," Tony sighs. "There should be a kill switch under one of their reactors."

"Which one?" Natasha grunts.

The deafening silence from Tony's line explains it.

You fight your way though the thugs which again, don't put up a fight. Sometimes you throw one punch and they're out cold, leading you to believe the intense training Bucky insisted you do worked. The only tough ones were the Iron Man suits themselves.

Ripping out the arc reactors wasn't easy. You had to use all you force. On the second one you encounter it got the upper hand and blasts you through a wall, the impact sending sharp pain to your head and back.

You hear metal thumping of a suit so you get back up and attempt to get your hands on the Iron Man in front of you.

"Hey, hey. Same team. Look," Tony grips on your wrists and lifts his mask up. "You alright?"

“Yeah," you pant, relaxing a bit. "Yeah. One of them got m-"

"We just discovered a bomb, northwest," Clint says. By ‘we’ he means him and Natasha. The redhead speaks right after. “Two and a half minutes. How many suits left, Friday?”

"Only one more suit is fully functional."

You get out of Tony's hold and sprint up the stairs. "I got it."

He smiles to himself. The plan is all coming to place.

As soon as you enter the room you dodge a blast from the much bulkier Mark XVI. Of course they'd want to make the stealth suit more powerful. You launch yourself towards it, stomping on an arm while trying to dodge blasts from the the other one.

"Y/N! Fifty seconds!" Steve shouts in your earpiece.

You could've just jumped out, leaving the compromised suits here to be blown up but being under pressure made you panic and set your only goal to find the switch.

The suit could still set off a blast from the arc reactor so you couldn't really get your hands on it without losing a freaking arm.

"Get out of there!”

But you didn’t have enough time. So you just curl into a ball against the wall, accepting your fate.

A pop did go off. Loud, but you didn't feel yourself torn into pieces right after. You also heard a bunch of aye’s and oh’s. Redwing whirs by to your head to drop off a birthday hat.

"Happy Birthday!”

Your eyes fly open. Turns out the only thing inside Mark XVI was confetti. Natasha walks over to you to inspect and make sure you're alright.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widen at her, then at everyone. Sam and Bucky were now standing with them, smiling at you amused.

"I think she's in shock.”

“You think?”

Steve glares at Tony with a hint of amusement. "I told you it would be too much."

"Trust me she prefers something like this instead of a big party. Don't you, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?" You take off the hat and clutch it between your hands, appreciating Natasha rubbing your back as you try to collect yourself. "How is none of this real?"

"We basically faked a mission for you." Rhodey says.

You look around all the rubble. "This building, the people, suits-"

"Bought the place," Tony states. "Hired stuntmen, did a few tweaks on the suits...”

"God, why would you do that?" You bury your face in your hands, not knowing if you should be laughing or crying. "I punched those guys!"

"They'll be fine, they signed up for it."

You gently get up and brush off some confetti off your knees.

"But back at the compound... you guys were yelling at each other and during the whole thing you all sounded serious," you point out. "Was that all part of the act?"

Especially when that 'bomb' was about to go off. Steve's panicked voice made you scared for your life, only to know that it was all fake.

They all show signs of agreement, laughing.

"We'd make such great actors." Natasha smirks.

"Alright, the cake isn't going to blow itself." Clint walks up to you with said cake and you meet him halfway.

Everyone gathers around and before they could inhale to sing the stupid song, you cut them off. "You all know I hate to be sung at. Can we just get this over with?"

They all burst out laughing, you giggle in the process, blowing out your candle. You all group hug right after. The laughter makes you miss the sound of faint thunder outside.

"Look who's late." Bruce points out.

"Yes, I got here as soon as I can, my apologies." Thor smiles sheepishly.

Your ears perk up at the all too familiar voice of the god of thunder. Moving everyone of the way, you leap to hug him. "Thor!"

"Happy birthday, dearest Y/N." He grins and pats you on the head. "I'm afraid my - I mean - our gift, is with Loki at the moment."

"Enough with the formality, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Peter rings up Tony to tell him everything's set up at the huge building they rented for your low-key party. Just the Avengers. Peter, Vision and Wanda were in charge of setting things up over there, from decorations and food. Sam and Bucky also helped a bit before they arrived at the fake base.

So you all get into the jet again, this time you look at the windows in awe to see what the city's like. You also asked a bunch of questions on how they pulled something stupid but unique fake mission like that.

Once you've reached your destination, the place was simple yet big enough to fit everyone. Tony really took notes for this year. You didn't like anything too fancy or elegant, and you didn't like huge-ass parties with hundreds of people you've never met before.

Here you're with your family eating, drinking booze and playing games, generally having a good time.

You give the other five Avengers big hugs. Vision's never usually a hugger but for you he made an exception just for today. Everyone was surprised when he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

"Hugging has a lot of good benefits," Vision says when he lets you go. "Astounding, I know. It is recommended eight times a day, hopefully you've already gotten that much."

You giggle at his remark and Wanda rolls her eyes playfully. “Thank you, Vision.”

“Splendid, that means I don’t have to give you one.”

You turn around to see the god of mischief himself carefully hand you a wrapped box. Loki chuckles when you smile at him. “Happiest Birthday.”

“Loki.... you know you and Thor didn’t have to-”

“Thor? That one’s from me. I assure you.”

“Y/N!” You hear Tony call from the other side of the room. “It’s time for presents, little miss. Good lord this looks like Christmas morning.”

unfortunatley i am that extra to post a birthday fic woo hoo

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babu-haitani · 3 years ago

Note

can you maybe do a mikey, chifuyu and baji with a chihiro s/o (male ofc and if there’s a different chihiro I’m talking about the one from danganronpa) and this includes the crossdressing and past?

I gotchu!!! I'm sorry if this turned out a bit bad? I was in space when I wrote this but I hope I got close to what you requested <3

The Ultimate Programmer (Tokyo Revengers)

Genre: Fluff, Headcanons, A bit Suggestive (Baji's Part)

Pairings: Mikey, Chifuyu, Baji x Male! Reader

P.S Characters are 18+

MANJIRO SANO (MIKEY)

Mikey would be really confused when he found out about you being a guy under all of your frilly dress but even though he was confused he just stared at you from top to bottom and would proceed to just cuddle you and wouldn't question you.

You were left alone inside Mikey's room.

He was picked up earlier by his friend Draken for a Toman meeting which results to you being alone in his room, he said to wait for him and that he will be back soon, he also said to make yourself at home and would just message you if he is about to go back. You trusted your boyfriend.

Since it was a bit hot in his room you decided to make yourself at home and removed your skirt along with your dark green jacket, after removing some of your clothes you sat infront of the fan and started doing what you were good at which was...PROGRAMMING.

While you were busy hacking some system that Makoto and Byakuya asked you to, you didn't notice the calls and messages that was Mikey sending you.

"Why the hell is she not answering..." Mikey asked as he looked at his phone in distress. Draken just shrugged.

"Maybe she's busy, she is a programmer in a company afterall..." Draken comforted Mikey to ease his mind, Mikey just shrugged and took away his phone as he grab on the back side of Draken's Bike.

When Mikey reached home, he said his goodbye's to his friend and quickly went to his room. Opening the door he was greeted by a topless guy who was busy typing on his laptop, he quickly scanned the room and saw folded clothes in the corner. It was your clothes, You were a guy who was cross-dressing.

"ARGHH!! Why can't I hack this system!!!?" You yelled as you raised your arms in the air yelling in frustration.

"Y/N...?" Mikey called, you quickly turned around and you saw your boyfriend looking at you with a straight face---you quickly grabbed your clothes and covered yourself.

"Mikey...I can explain---" You were about to stand up when Mikey forced you to sit back down, he layed on the floor and rested his head on your lap. You were taken a back by his actions, cause you thought he would be mad when he found out you were a guy and not actually a girl but instead of questioning you he just layed there...comfortably...

"Mikey?..." You called out to him. He hummed in return.

"Are you not gonna question me?..." You asked.

"Question you about what?..."

"I'm a guy...not a girl..." You replied, Mikey opened his eyes and looked at you then gave you a smile.

"Hmm...Nah...why would I question you? I still love you both ways so why bother" He replied, you felt your face heat up from his answer.

"But...I do wanna know why would you crossdress" He continued, you just gave him a soft smile. You then explained to him about the past of how you were bullied and harassed because of your feminine features despite being a guy, he just listened to you.

After you were done explaining, you looked at him who was pouting. You looked at him confused and then he kissed you.

"Dress whatever you want and tell me if someone bullies you! I'll make sure Toman will raid their house..." Mikey aggresively spoke as he cuddled onto your sides, you just smiled and give him a light peck on his forehead.

"Okay, Thank you Mikey..." You thanked him, he just gave you a kiss on your stomach. It was his way of saying 'I love you too' and you sure got the message of his sweet little gesture. <3

MATSUNO CHIFUYU

If you're gae, you probably know the term 'GAYDAR'. I headcanon Chifuyu as Bisexual, when he first met you he knows from the beginning that your a guy. When first told him about your secret he will be like 'oh I knew that' and would just laugh it off while giving you forehead kisses cause you were probably flustered after telling him and he ended up knowing beforehand.

You and Chifuyu decided to have a day-off today, him taking a break from the petshop and you not worrying about Makoto and your other friends. Just you and him but you have another plan in hand...

You plan on telling Chifuyu about your secret that you're a cross-dresser and your past on why you were a cross-dresser. You were ready to face the consequences.

But despite all of your will to tell him, you ended up shaking while cuddling onto him. Chifuyu notice this.

"Babe? You okay? You're shaking..." Chifuyu sat up, putting the manga down the manga he was reading while cuddling onto you. You sat up along with Chifuyu, bitting your lip.

You and Chifuyu have been dating for only 5 months, but despite the short time of you and him dating he already knows some facts about you. Like for example, your habit of bitting your lip whenever you want to say something which you are currently doing right now.

"Babe, If you wanna say something...just say it" Chifuyu spoke as he held your hand, rubbing circles on them.

Taking a deep breath, you started tearing up as you look at him. Chifuyu now has a worried expression, what were you gonna say? were you going to break up with him?? what's going on? He knows you were easily intimidated or scared but he swear he didn't do anything to scare you so why were you crying. Chifuyu's Negative thoughts suddenly dissapeared when you spoke.

"I'm not a girl...I'm sorry Chifuyu..." You spoke as you started tearing up, you didn't bother to look at Chifuyu. After seconds of crying you heard a light soft chuckle, you looked up at Chifuyu who was laughing.

"Oh my god, you scared me...I thought I did something wrong and you were gonna break up with me haha" Chifuyu laughed as he layed back down on the bed and grabbed his manga to continue reading. You looked at him confused.

"Chifuyu, didn't you hear what I said? I'm not a girl...I'm a guy---" You were cut off by Chifuyu when he pulled you by your hand and laid you on top of him.

"Yeah, I know. I knew from the start when we first met up" Chifuyu smiled as he kissed you in the lips, you grew even more confused.

"Eh? what do you mean?" You asked.

"Hmm? I don't know how I found out I just know but that didn't bother me, I still fell in love with you" Chifuyu answered, your face started heating up and a light tint of red spreads across your face. Chifuyu chuckled once more.

"Look, I don't know your reason for cross-dressing and I don't care whatever gender you are. I love you and we are happy, If someone fights you because of your hobby...I'll call the rest of Former Toman Members to go and beat all of them for you" Chifuyu cooed at you as he rubs your back, you nuzzled your head onto his chest and started sobbing. You heard Chifuyu laugh again.

"I love you so much, Fuyu..." You mumbled on his chest as you lightly sob. Chifuyu gave your head a long and soft kiss.

"I love you more, Y/N..." <3

BAJI KEISUKE

Despite Baji being stupid about something related to school subjects he is actually smart about finding out people's secrets, for some reason that's the only time he is actually smart but when he found out you were a guy he was taken aback. He guessed that you were a guy but he never really confirmed it, he just guessed.

"Baji, I'm a guy..." You suddenly spoke as you placed the cup on the counter, you looked at your boyfriend who is now looking at you wide eyed with his mouth agape.

You have been meaning to talk to your boyrfriend about your secret, which is your sexuality...

On Baji's POV, he actually knew---he was just shock that he was right about you being a guy. I mean he has been trying to do the 'DEED' with you but you always declined or would tell him you weren't ready, which made him confused cause make-out sessions doesn't bother you but sex does; he thought of multiple reasons and one of the reasons he thought was maybe you were a guy? Stupid but he was right anyways.

"Look Baji, If you want to break up I understand---"

"Wait-- Who says I want to break up??" Baji panicked as he walked towards you and grabbed your hands.

"No! we are not breaking up! If it's about you being a guy, I don't mind...just teach me...guide me..." Baji explained, you were stunned to hear Baji said that he doesn't mind.

You were worried for nothing...you were worried that he might leave you. You were wrong...

"It's just that I thought you were breaking up with me because of how you looked at me..." You said, sobbing as you hugged him tight. Baji returned the hug, swaying you left and right softly.

"I'm sorry, Baby...Didn't mean to scare you, I was just taken aback when you confirmed my thought..." Baji explained, you looked at him with a confuse face.

"your thought?..." Baji hummed as a reply.

"hmm, well I've been initiating to have sex but you always change topics or stopped me so I thought maybe you had a trauma? or maybe you weren't ready and one of my thoughts was actually thinking maybe your trans or a guy and your were too shy to tell me" Baji explained, your eyes soften and then later you started laughing.

"Why're you laughing?!" Looking at Baji, you kissed his chin and nuzzled your face on his chest.

"You're an Idiot..." You mumbled, loud enough for Baji to hear.

"But you love this idiot" Baji whined, earning a chuckle from you.

You were happy that you fell inlove with someone like Baji, you were thankful...You feel safe and at home because of him.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #chifuyu x reader #baji x reader #anime #anime x reader #headcanon #babu

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sweetkingdomstarlight-blog · 4 years ago

Text

they were roommates

Warnings - non consensual sex, anal sex, somnophilia, forced drug use

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words - over 2k

A/N - READ THE WARNINGS - I can’t stress this enough. Also if you are under 18 just shoo, bugger off. I wrote this from a prompt on @darkficsyouneveraskedfor stalker writing challenge, the prompt was your roommate isn’t who you thought they were. I’m still super new to writing and this is new territory for me, as always a huge massive thankyou to my beautiful wife @buckyownsmylife she helped me a lot and continues to hype me up.

It’s been six weeks since your friend got a new job upstate and moved out,. You’ve had an advert out for a new roommate but so far everyone who’s applied has either been rude or hasn’t shown up. You’re running low on your savings and would probably accept Satan himself if he could pay his fair share. That’s when your latest applicant knocked on your door.

James was polite and charming, he offered to pay a month up front to secure the room and could move in as soon as possible. You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders when he moved in later that week, it was a bit odd that he had no friends to help him but he didn’t seem to have a lot of stuff and had himself sorted while you worked in your home office.

The first night he offered to buy pizza and beers so you could get to know each other better, it turns out you two had a lot of things in common and he was easy to get along with. You must have had a few too many beers because your head felt fuzzy, deciding it was time to go to bed. You said goodnight to James and stood up but felt so dizzy you had to immediately sit back down. James was so sweet though, looking after you, he actually picked you up and put you to bed so you didn't have to walk the short distance to your room.

Waking up the next morning you realised you were wearing a t-shirt you didn’t recognise but you didn’t remember getting changed, your mouth felt strangely dry so you got up for a drink. That’s when the soreness hit you, in between your legs, rushing to the bathroom you were confused that you weren’t getting your period and nothing seemed to be different. You assumed you were getting sick and went for hot tea to soothe yourself.

Sitting at the kitchen counter drinking and nibbling on some dry toast, James walks in looking like he’s just been for a run. He grabs a bottle of water and walks over to you giggling “you can’t possibly be hungover you only had three drinks last night” you look up at him smirking and sarcastically respond, “yeah, well, maybe I’m just a lightweight”.

As you get up to clear away your mess he clears his throat making you turn. “Should we have a system for when we have people over in the future?” You look at him confused. “I’m sorry what do you mean? Do you want to bring someone over tonight?”

He chuckles at you, “Well no, not tonight but if you want your friend from last night to come back I can make sure you have some privacy,” he offers you, smirking at the confused look on your face.

“I’m sorry, I don't understand, I went to sleep last night. I didn’t have anyone over.” Taking a step closer, he leans on the counter separating you both. “Then who did I hear you with last night and who did I kick out this morning?” You stare at him open mouthed and scurry off to your room to check your phone for some clues, you feel your chest tighten when you see that you matched with someone last night and invited him over. How could you not remember? You were absolutely mortified, what is James going to think of you now?

Sitting in your home office talking to idiot customers on the phone all day, you try to take your mind off what happened last night. How can you have invited someone over, had sex and apparently stolen his t-shirt without even knowing? You vow there and then you aren’t drinking ever again. However, the end of the week rolls by and it's been the absolute worst, your boss is a dick, your customers are all idiots and to top it off your best friend hasn’t responded to your calls all week and you don’t know why.

You have a quick shower and decide to spend the night binge watching whatever you can find on Netflix when James sits next to you handing you a gin and tonic. “Thanks but I’m not drinking for a little while.” You go to put the drink down but he pushes it up to your mouth

“Don’t be silly, you’ve had a hard week. One drink won’t hurt” smiling at him you take a sip and he’s right, you instantly relax and get cosy on the sofa, ordering chinese and laughing at the show you both decide on. Waking up in the middle of the night with a dry mouth again, you find yourself laying on your bed but this time you have your own clothes on which is a relief. Standing up, you feel a bit weird round the back like you’ve been stretched out with one of your plugs but that’s not possible, they’re hidden in your box under the bed.

You drink a big glass of water and sit on the kitchen counter, a little uncomfortably, but quietly and relax. Something has been off the last week and you can’t put your finger on it, it's always weird when you get a new roommate and you’ve put it down to that but you just sense something isn’t quite right. You lean your head back on the wall behind you and get a surprise when James walks round the corner. “Hey doll, you feeling ok? You looked a bit sickly earlier and went to bed. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You nod at how sweet he was and drink some more water before hopping down. “I’m fine just going to sleep it off.” He takes your glass for you, offering to wash it and says goodnight, watching you walk away very closely and licking his lips as his eyes roam over your body.

It’s been a few weeks now since James moved in, he’s got to be the best roommate you’ve ever had. He pays his bills on time, keeps the place spotless and he’s such a good cook, always making food and drinks for you. It's lucky that he’s so kind because none of your friends seem to be in touch anymore, you message them and even try calling them but no one ever replies.

You sit watching your usual Friday night film with drinks and Chinese takeout, talking to James about both your weeks, tonight though he sits closer than usual and his face seems to light up when you talk to him. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in real life, you’ve never looked at him that way before because not only is he your roommate but he’s so far out of your league it's laughable. You tell one of your stupid jokes and he laughs with his whole body, his arm goes around the back of the sofa and he pulls you in close, hugging into him, you relax biting your lip when he kisses the top of your head.

That was the beginning of it for you both. You had daily movie nights, he cooked for you every day, listened when you got upset that your friends seemed to have dropped you and even encouraged you to start running with him. Everything felt perfect, you still occasionally woke up sore with a dry mouth but James told you it was just your body getting used to all the exercise you were now doing. Both of you had really found each other, loners who just needed someone to listen.

You went down to collect your mail one day and stood talking to your elderly neighbour when she told you how familiar James looked, she couldn’t work out where she knew him from but she praised you on finding such a nice young man who apparently had carried her groceries up the stairs for her when the elevator was broken. Smiling at her you told her to have a good morning and went back to your apartment looking at the thick brown envelope addressed to you, you never really got anything in the post except the occasional leaflet. James had made you a coffee and you smiled at him taking the package in your room to open while you got ready to have a shower.

In the shower you decided tonight would be the night with James, you shaved yourself from head to toe and used your best lotions. Winking at him as you walked to your room, he had a weird look on his face and couldn’t seem to look at you. In your room the envelope had been moved, it looked like it was open too. Bending down to pick it up you hear James behind you but before you can turn around you feel a pain in your neck and everything goes dark.

You wake up with a blinding headache and go to move but your body feels too heavy. “Ssshh sweetheart, don’t move, I had to tie you up for your own safety.” You look at him confused, trying to pull on your wrists but you can’t move.

“James, what’s happening?” Sitting next to you he slips some ice chips in your mouth to ease your dry throat and takes a deep breath.

“You can blame your friend, we were so happy and she had to try and take you away from me.” A tear runs down your cheek, you’ve never heard him talk like this and it’s terrifying. “I told your little friends to leave you alone or I’d take care of them all but they just didn’t listen.” He throws the envelope down and slowly shows you the newspaper clippings and articles they had sent you, apparently he was on the run and considered dangerous, something to do with what happened with the helicarriers that crashed a few months ago.

“I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore,” he says with a smirk, wiping your tears away and tutting. “Don’t be scared of me, I’m doing this for you, for us!” Pulling on the restraints on your feet and arms again he shouts, “Enough!” You stop immediately, scared of what he‘ll do if you don’t. “You were so nice to me on the phone when I first got free, you helped me hire that car that brought me to New York. I hacked into your company's database and found you. Your roommate was easy to convince with a little bit of money and I hired all those people to come and see you so when I finally got my chance you’d want me as much as I’ve wanted you”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out like a normal person?” You managed to stutter out, trying not to sound too pathetic.

“You never leave the house, you stay home all day working then sit watching TV all night, I saw you through the webcam. You really should be more careful.” He smirks before running his fingers over your naked body. Feeling how smooth and soft your skin is he smiles. “Did you do all this for me? Sweetheart, I’ve already had all of you, you don’t have to do anything special for me. I love you just the way you are”.

The realisation hits you and you sob loudly. “Have you been touching me while I sleep?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at you with so much admiration.

“You’re so smart, I’ve been preparing you to be mine. I didn’t know how long it's been since you’ve been with a real man, not those silly little toys under your bed and I wanted our first time to be special. I even set up that fake dating account so you would think you had a guy over on that first night.” He strokes your cheek and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying.

“James I’m cold, can you untie me and we can talk properly, please.” He studies your face for a brief moment before leaning forward and chuckling in your ear.

“You can’t think I’m that stupid baby, oh and you can call me Bucky now. If you’re going to be mine forever we need to get better acquainted.” He drops his sweatpants and straddles your hips. “We’re going to have so much fun”.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #Winter Soldier

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

The smile on your face was stiff and insincere as Marcus Boyd walked you back to your car. As much as you loathed the asshole, you needed him and that meant paying him a personal visit in his home in Connecticut. He was a very successful defense lawyer, on his way to becoming a managing partner in a prestigious New York law firm in a few years. Because of his career, he had access to many seedy characters which is what you were here to leverage. You needed an unregistered gun, and he had connections who could provide you one. If that meant putting up with him for an hour, you were willing to do it.

“Y/N,” he said with a slick smile, standing next to you as you unlocked your car door. “It was wonderful to see you again.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you replied. “It never is. But we do what we have to, right?”

His eyes narrowed, shifting to something menacing. “I forgot how tactless you can be.”

You gave him a mocking smile. “Here’s hoping you won’t have to see me again soon.”

“Next time you need something, don’t come to me,” he warned.

“Same goes for you.” You leveled him with a cold look. “When can I expect a call?”

“A few days.”

“Fine.” You got into your car and shut the door, feeling relieved at no longer being around the slimy bastard.

Marcus was someone you met at college in your first year. He was a rich entitled sophomore, about to flunk out. You were good at hacking into things, and had managed to get your hands on a few exams Marcus desperately needed to pass. That was the beginning of your partnership with him. You helped him graduate and he paid you a lot of money in return. Thanks to him and his friends, you were able to get your degree with minimal student loans. Although the two of you despised each other, the threat of mutual destruction meant you trusted him to keep your search for a registered gun to himself and he trusted you not to spill his secrets.

You started driving back into the city, your mind focused on the road ahead when your phone pinged. You glanced down. An unknown number was calling you. If it was like the other anonymous calls you received, they would call you a fucking bitch as soon as you picked up and hang up on you. You had no doubt that it was Adam calling, considering the calls started after he was released, which only proved how unhinged he was. A smarter man would have been on his best behaviour when out on bail but he was so filled with rage he didn’t even bother to temper his actions. You had already reached out to the prosecutor and informed them of the calls, but you doubted it would lead to anything. Most likely Adam was using disposable phones, which meant there was no direct proof he was the one making the calls. You were scared, of course you were, which was why you’d reached out to Marcus even though you didn’t like the prick. It’s not like you could rely on Trevor, the bodyguard Roger had assigned to keep you safe. He was lazy and not very bright, and even if he was good at what he did Valiant wouldn’t be paying for your protection indefinitely. All of that meant you had to take this matter into your own hands. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only way for you to feel safe again.

Your thoughts turned to Billy, something you actively tried to avoid, but there wasn’t anything else to distract your mind away from him. It had been a week since you blocked him, and as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. He’d been a part of your life for almost a year and you really enjoyed his company before things got messy between you two. If you hadn’t developed feelings for him and then caught him on a date with Dinah Madani, you guys would probably still be sleeping together – but you did, and seeing him with someone like her made it crystal clear his lack of feelings for you. The truth hurt like hell, but you’d get over it. You were a realist after all. You knew he was out of your league and there was nothing you could do to make Billy want you.

The speaker on your car piped up with a message notification. It was a text from Davina, reminding you of the girls night out planned for tomorrow night. It was a mutual friend’s birthday and the plan was for all of you to go to a new club that recently opened. You were looking forward to it, mostly as it would keep your mind off Adam but also because you were hoping to go out and meet someone new. No doubt Billy had already found someone else to fill your spot on his weekly rotation but you weren’t built like him and needed time to process your lingering feelings. You still weren’t over him, but you were ready to move on.

Now you just needed to get back home and come up with a reason as to how you lost your bodyguard in case Roger asked. Somehow, though, you doubted Trevor would willingly tell Roger about you disappearing for a few hours so you weren’t too worried. No one knew about your connection with Marcus and you intended to keep it that way.

***

The next evening you, Davina, and a few others were at Pravda, a new club downtown, to celebrate your friend Kiran’s birthday. You were wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit paired with silver stilettos, while your lips were painted maroon. Choosing to keep focus on the lips, you had ensured the rest of your make-up was light and dewy which went well with your straightened hair. It had taken a lot of double-sided tape to make sure your breasts were in check in your outfit but it was worth the effort. You felt like a proper goddess tonight, surrounded by your beautiful friends at a private table in the VIP lounge.

An hour later you were buzzed, giggling and laughing as you and a few others headed back to the private booth from the dance floor. After dancing up a storm, you guys were all parched and desperate for a drink. Davina was holding your hand as she led you through the crowds but you knew something was wrong when she stopped unexpectedly. You thought you heard her swear but you couldn’t be sure due to the loud music.

“What’s-” The words died in your mouth when you realized what Davina was staring at. Billy fucking Russo, sitting at your table, chatting it up with Kiran who was sitting next to him. The moment you saw them, you felt red-hot anger flood over you. While Kiran was a good friend, she wasn’t someone you confided in. She had no idea you’d been sleeping with Billy so you didn’t blame her for flirting with him. But Billy, god you hated him! There was no way his showing up at the same club as you was a co-incidence, which meant he was purposely here to flirt with your friends. To hurt you.

“Want to leave?” Davina asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied in a clipped tone.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s here because he wants to piss me off.”

“I thought you said he was cool about the break-up.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Thought he was.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You didn’t answer, instead taking the lead to walk past her. You returned to your seat across from where he and Kiran were sitting. Davina came to sit beside you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as his molten eyes trailed down to your breasts, lingering on you. Dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, designer no doubt, and a pair of black trousers and open leather jacket, he looked absolutely beautiful with his perfectly styled hair and trimmed beard.

“Hey guys, this is Billy,” Kiran greeted, eyeing him appreciatively. “He ordered us more champagne. Isn’t that so nice of him?”

On the table in front of you was an expensive bottle, chilling in ice. You quirked your eyebrow. Apparently Billy was in the mood to splurge on your friends. “That’s nice of him,” you remarked noncommittally.

“Billy, this is Davina and Y/N,” Kiran said.

His eyes were locked with yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I know Y/N very well.”

Kiran turned to look at you. “You do?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Through work.”

Billy leaned forward, his smoldering gaze holding you hostage. “Y/N and I are very good friends.”

“Acquaintances,” you corrected.

As if sensing the tension in the air, Kiran pulled away from Billy. Meanwhile, he picked up the bottle of champagne and started pouring the liquid in the empty glasses in front of him. “You’re giving Kiran the wrong idea about us, Y/N. She might think you don’t like me very much.”

“She’d be right,” you snarked, ignoring the glass of champagne he held out for you.

“I’ll take that,” Davina replied, snatching the glass from his hands.

Your friends were suddenly talking all at once but all you could focus on was Billy’s heated gaze on you. With every second that passed his eyes on you seemed to grow more wanton and lustful, and desire coursed through your blood at how he looked at you. You wanted him so badly you cold feel yourself getting wet, and you realized you needed to get out of there right away.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you whispered in Davina’s ear, making sure Billy didn’t hear you.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” You stood up quickly and made your way out of there, keenly aware of Billy’s eyes boring into your back.

Few minutes later you were sitting at one of the corner bar downstairs. This floor had a different ambience than the club upstairs, which you appreciated. The music wasn’t as loud and you found yourself enjoying the lounge vibe. It wasn’t long before someone crept up next to you at the bar and you turned to find a familiar face smiling back at you.

His name was Avi and you’d run into him a few times at the conferences you’d gone to. Broad-shouldered and husky, you’d always found him attractive in an adorable way.

“You just look…” he gave you a shy smile. “Wow.”

Seeing his reaction to you, you smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ve always wanted to approach you but I didn’t want to come across as a creep, you know?” he explained. “You can also be very intimidating.”

That made you laugh. “I doubt that.”

As Avi and you continued to talk, you couldn’t help but enjoy how he was gawking at you. You didn’t fit society’s mould for what was considered beautiful, so all of your past flings were a result of the guys getting to know you and finding you hot because of your personality. It was rare when a guy you were attracted to was also into you right away but that seemed to be the case with Avi. You didn’t have to charm or work for him to find you hot. Instead, he was genuinely enamored with how you looked which was refreshing.

His phone rang with a text notification. Scanning through the message, he flashed you an apologetic glance. “Shit. I have to go.”

Disappointed, you pouted your lips. “That’s too bad.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” he asked shyly.

“I’d like that.” You reached for your phone and scrolled through to the contacts app to add his name before handing the phone to him. “Add your number.”

After you said your goodbyes, you ordered your third gin and tonic and were enjoying your drink at the bar when someone grazed up against you. Seated on a high bar stool, you were expecting Davina to have come looking for you. Instead, you found Billy sidling up to you. He looked pissed off and angrier than you’d ever seen him.

“Give me your phone,” he barked.

“Go to hell.”

Unexpectedly he gripped your stool and pulled you closer, throwing you off so you were forced to hold on to him for regain your balance. He perched his foot up on the bottom ledge of the stool, closing you in fully. “Unblock me now.”

‘Go fuck yourself.”

His dark eyes seemed to suddenly grow even darker, more monster than human. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

“My future boyfriend.”

Billy’s lips curved into a sneer. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Why don’t you go back to flirting with my friend and leave me the fuck alone?”

“She was flirting. I wasn’t.”

“I don’t care. Go sleep with whoever you want, and I’ll do the same.”

Billy simply stared at you for a beat, his jaw clenched. “You’re not fucking anyone else.”

Sitting up straight, you leveled him with a hostile look. “I just met someone who was nice, sweet, and really fucking cute. And he wasn’t an asshole like you. Trust me, I will fuck him. I might even suck him off here tonight if he plays his cards right. And there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop that.”

He dipped his head towards you, leaning in closer so you were the only one who could hear him. His voice may have been flat, but his words were laced with cold fury when he spoke next. “If he touches you, he’s dead. I’ll start with his hands. I’ll break his fingers one by one for daring to touch you. Next I’ll cut off his dick, his balls, other parts of him slowly, carefully, so he feels every inch of the excruciating pain I’ll put him through. I’ll fill him with adrenaline so he doesn’t pass out from the pain. I’ll gouge out his eyes last because he needs to see that I’m the one who turned him into a mutilated lump of flesh. And then maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I might slit his throat to end his suffering.” His eyes never leaving yours, he reached for your drink at the bar and chugged it.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you said, your throat suddenly parched. Your heart was beating rapidly, your stomach coiled into knots. Fear should have flooded over you - it didn’t. Instead, you were aroused.

“No one takes what’s mine.”

“I’m not your fucking possession. You don’t own me.” You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as your emotions – and the walls – started to all swirl together. Like always, just when you thought he might have cared enough to admit he was jealous, he showed his true colours. Billy’s anger had nothing to do with his feelings for you. Rather, it was about his ego. Shit. You felt dizzy, the drinks had started to hit you. “Why don’t you go bother Dinah and her new man? Didn’t you say she was seeing someone else? Go pull your psychopath routine on them.”

He tucked his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze again. The emotions in his eyes played havoc with your senses as he pressed in closer, so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

“I don’t care who Dinah dates or fucks.”

The air was thick with tension. It felt as if there was no one else in the bar but you and Billy, his one hand under your chin, the other pressed against the small of your back. You felt heady and light-headed with anticipation and desire, but you were also angry. Angry that you still wanted him, that he wouldn’t give you space to get over him. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

His fingers gripped the side of your face, and you exhaled a sharp breath when he grazed your forehead with his. Temples touching, his eyes held you transfixed in place. “Because you’re mine.” The possessiveness in his voice was unsettling, but it was the way he was staring at you – as if he could see right through to your core – that made your stomach flip-flop. “Mine.” His thumb swiped along your bottom lip, as if marking you as his. “And I’m yours.”

Billy was a player, an asshole, and there was comfort in that because it meant you knew where you stood with him, but now he was defying expectations, crossing the boundaries you’d carefully set for yourself, and you weren’t ready for that. None of that mattered, however, because you were suddenly feeling really, really sick. “I have to go,” you mumbled. The room was spinning as you tried to jump off the chair but your knees almost gave way. Billy was there to catch you in his arms, holding you up.

“Woah, you okay?”

You pushed him off and ran.

Part 10

A/N - As always, thank you for the support, the feedback, the likes/reblogs, and the asks. I’m stoked to keep writing this because of you guys. Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter!

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, drop me a note.

Tag List.

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine @gubleryum @galaxyjane @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless @tanyaherondale @nashibirne @dour-trash @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson @agent-jbarnes @primadonnasdream @aleksanderwh0r3 @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729 @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival @sassygirl25 @consulting--heroes @the-celestial-kitsune @mackaywhore @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle @fire-treasure-iii @charly-0 @kestrafagnor @pigwidgeonxo @damagelove @allegra-writes @pensandthings @jad3djay @batshitbarnes @kashimayuki @secretsthathauntus @odetostep @awesome-eccia @mackaywhore @stories-you-wont-hear @vvsdiamond28 @supernaturalcat7 @arieltwvdtohamflash @iknownoqueenbutthequeeninme @devs-stufff @ticosas @moodacheeks @myakai13 @carlywhomever @fvckthisbxtchup @its-evita-here @papapapadumb @talesfrommycell @bat-luna-cat @fific7 @elluvians @dailydoseofchoices @bigcreatorwombatdreamer

gif-credit: @the-darkling

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher

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