#was gonna get any last important things and leave their key in the lock

[rainey-staerie-daize]

I'm itchy, I'm in Hell. I'm not mentally well.

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Eleven

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“He has what?” Emma says on the other end of the phone call. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” I tell her. “And now his brothers are here and I can’t leave!”

“I told you being with him seriously was a bad idea.”

I sigh. “I know, I know. But he… he seemed so nice. He didn’t seem like he-“

“I told you he was a Mafia leader, y/n.”

I look at the door of Matt’s bedroom to make sure his brothers aren’t listening in on me.

“I saw the photos and I closed the door. His brothers came home and I can’t go in and look again to investigate.”

“You shouldn’t have quit the article, this is big.”

“Emma!” I whisper shout into the phone. “I have more important things than that right now!”

“Well how do you believe me that he’s bad news?”

“Yes, okay, yes.”

“Good. Now, you need out of there.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last hour?!” I ask in a loud whisper.

“His brothers are where in the house?” Emma asks.

“Downstairs somewhere.”

“Do you think you could climb out the window?”

I pause. “What?”

“Climb out the window. Do you think you can?”

“Give me a moment.” I mumble as I look over to the window. I’m only on the second floor but the walls are so high that it seems more like the third or fourth. “I don’t think I can swing that.”

“Something that doesn’t make sense to me though.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Why would he leave the key where you would find it? It’s like he wanted you to find it. Like he wanted you to see-“

“Yeah that’s been bugging me too.” I sit down in the bed and scratch the back in my neck.

“Do you think you can look in there again? Without getting caught by Huwey and Luwey?”

“Maybe…” I get up and go back to Matt’s office. I pick up the key and then creep to the hallway.

“Go to face time.” Emma says and I switch the call to face time. Emma’s face appears on my screen and I shush her to make sure she doesn’t speak and get me caught.

I look down the hallway and down the stairs. Chris and Nick are downstairs doing whatever, which gives me the chance to look back in the room.

I change the camera from front to back to show Emma the room. I unlock the door and open it slowly, flicking on the light before slowly closing the door behind me to make sure Chris and Nick don’t catch me.

“Oh my god.” Emma says.

The room is filled wall to wall with photos of my ex boyfriend, my old boss, and basically any person that’s ever wronged me in my life. A big red X over my ex boyfriend’s face.

“Does the X mean…” Emma says.

“I don’t know…” I whisper.

“I’m gonna check to see if anyone’s heard from him.”

“Emma…”

“I’m screen recording. Do a full pan of the room.” She says.

I slowly move my phone camera around the room to get every part recorded.

“Good, now get out of there!” Emma whisper shouts and I shut off the light, and creep out of the room. I lock the door behind me and quickly walk to Matt’s office to put the key back where I found it under the desk.

“Get out of there, girl!” Emma says and I quickly make my way to the window.

“How do I get out?” I whisper to her.

“You’ve seen movies, tie the bedsheets together and climb out!”

I nod and run to the bed, pulling off the sheets and starting to tie the corners together.

“God, this is so difficult with silk sheets!” I complain as I tie the corners together. I double tie them just to make sure they down slip out of their hold.

I open the window and throw the sheets out, the tie the end to the bedpost. I slowly climb out the window with my phone in my back pocket. I scale down the wall slowly and carefully. The sheets don’t make it to the grass but make it just far enough to where it wouldn’t hurt to jump. I slip to the ground and fall on my back.

I take a second to catch my breath before getting up and starting to run to the driveway. I didn’t think this far ahead. He lives in a mansion miles away from anything. I don’t have any of the keys to his cars and even if I did he’d find me.

I sneak around to the front and make sure to hide away from view of Matt’s brothers. I rush to the driveway and start running as fast as I can.

I start to loose my breath after running for a long time. It felt like hours even though it was only a few minutes. God I wish I didn’t skip my gym classes in high school.

The sun was going down when I had called Emma a little over an hour ago, and now it’s almost fully dark out.

Before I could reach the main road, a car comes driving up the driveway. I gasp and step back. It’s Matt, I know it.

The car stops right in front of me and Matt steps out.

“Hey, doll, what are you doing out here?” He asks as he walks over to me. I step back to get away from him and he stops, looking at me confused. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks.

“I… I saw it.” I say softly.

“Saw what?” He asks me.

“The room. The room with… with the photos, with the-“

“Dollface…” Matt steps closer to me and I step backwards to keep him at a distance.

“You left the key where I could find it, you wanted me to find it, you wanted me to know.” My voice tremors as my body begins to shake.

“Yes, you’re right, but I only wanted you to know I’m protecting you from them.” Matt steps closer to me again and I step backwards again as well.

“What did the X over Bennetts picture mean?” My voice cracks as I ask.

Matt stays silent. He sighs and then says “Get in the car babygirl.”

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Just get in the car.”

“Did you kill him?”

Matt sighs again. “After what he did to you, he’s lucky all I did was kill him.”

I stand in shock in front of Matt. I’m unable to move as he steps closer to me. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you.” He says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his car.

My heart races as I’m unable to move by myself from the shock. Matt opens his car door and sets me in the passenger seat. He goes to the driver seat and starts the car back up.

After a bit of silence I say “What did you do to him?” In a whisper.

Matt sighs. “I did it for you, babygirl.”

“Tell me what you did to him.”

“Y/n-“

“I will jump out of this car if you don’t tell me.” I threaten.

Matt chuckles. “I’m going 20, you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“Matt, tell me what you did to Bennett!”

Matt groans and shakes his head. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t leave me.”

“Leave you?”

“I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“You killed him! You killed him and you don’t want me to leave you? To think of you differently? You don’t think I will?”

“I did it for you!” He shouts back. Matt’s hands grip the steer wheel tighter. He takes a deep breath. “You think you know him but you don’t. When I first saw you, first fell for you, after our first time together, before that even. When I left that hotel room weeks ago for the first time I knew I wanted you. So I looked you up. I looked up everything I could find about you. I saw you dated him, Bennett Cassidy. I read about what he did to you, I saw the messages he screenshotted and sent to his friends acting like you were some toy instead of a human being.”Matt says calmly.

“Matt…”

“You don’t know who he is.”

“He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh he is so much worse than that. You have no idea darling.”

“What did you do to him?” I shout.

“Do you want the fucking details?” He snaps through his teeth.

I flinch and stare at him in shock.

“I’m- I’m sorry princess.” He says and puts his hand on my knee. I move my knee away from him and he frowns, putting his hand back in the wheel.

“Matt I want to go home.” I say calmly.

“You can’t.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Is it too uncomfortable? I can get us a cozy cabin or-“

“I don’t want to be with you.”

Matt stops the car and looks at me. “You can’t do that.”

“Matt you killed him.”

“I did it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, I’d never ask for anything like that!” Tears form in my eyes.

“Y/n you can’t leave me.”

“Get away from me-“ I open the car door.

Matt opens his door and runs after me, taking my arm. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

“Let go of me.” I try to pull away from him.

“Y/n please, don’t make me do this!” He begs and my breath hitches.

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?” I try to pull away from him again.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He says. He pinches my neck and everything goes black.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @nickmillersn1gf

[peterman-spideyparker]

Neighbors (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Writing and inspiration has been hard these last few weeks, but, I think I'm getting back into the swing of things! I posted a poll about a week ago with about 20 fic ideas I've come up with, and this was the fic that had the highest polling percentage! I'll work on getting the others up but, yeah. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Summary: Home redecorating shouldn't be a dangerous activity. When it turns into a more treacherous adventure and you end up hurt, you're not expecting your handsome neighbor from across the hall to come to your rescue.

Warnings: Fluff, injury (nothing explicit--a fall from a ladder and a lot of body aches), Matt being sweet and kind and helpful and a little flustered, some sweating

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,546

You know you should have gotten a different ladder. The little voice in your head kept telling you to grab a different one—one a little more sturdy. But this was sturdy enough, it just creeks a little if you step on a rung a certain way, but they’re metal steps, so it’s fine.

Yeah right.

All you can do as you fall is hope that it won’t be as hard of an impact as you're imagining. You cry out as you hit the old hardwood floor, figuring the hidden concrete of the old building makes it worse than it should have been. Feeling intense pain all on your left side, you can only lay on the floor and groan in pain. If you try to move—just roll on your back to take some pressure off—you only cry out more before you move back into your landing position. You're startled, though, when you hear a knocking at your door.

“Hello?” you hear a strong voice call. “My name is Matt, I’m your neighbor across the hall. I heard screaming and a crash. Are you okay?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you feel like crying when you do. Gritting your teeth and breathing deeply is the only way that you can prevent yourself from screaming out again.

“Doorframe,” you breathe out, but not loud enough for him to hear. He’s probably gonna leave any second, and your phone is too far away from you to call for any help. To your surprise, you hear the sound of metal against wood and then the sound of the key sliding into the lock and the click of the door opening.

“H-Hello?” he calls again, and you hear the repeated tapping of plastic against the floor.

“‘m here,” you breathe. “O-On the floor.”

He—Matt—comes into your line of sight and gently starts to feel around, folding up the white cane in his hands. You briefly cry out in pain as he tries to help you up, and he is quick to apologize.

“I think I should call an ambulance,” he says, pulling his phone from his gray sweatpants.

“No, please,” you pant. “It’s too expensive. I don’t think . . . My insurance wouldn’t cover it. I just need some ice—aah!”

“Let me take you to the hospital, then. An ice pack and Advil won’t fix this.”

You're about to turn down the offer, but he says “please” so gently it makes your heart skip a beat and a heat grow between your legs—how can your body even think of that right now?

“Okay,” you concede, watching him slide his phone back into his sweats. “I’ll need help getting up.”

“Y-Yeah, I’ve got you.”

Gingerly, Matt helps you stand back up. Pain shoots throughout your body, and you almost collapse, but his strong arms keep you upright. Step by step, he walks you to the door, helping you grab your keys and your crossbody before you lock up and walk toward the elevator. You swear, if they hadn’t put it when they did, you’d be dragging yourself down the stairs.

“Shit, your cane!” you hiss while you wait for the elevator to come up. “It’s in my apartment.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges.

“Isn’t it kind of important? I mean, I don’t mean to assume or anything, but—.”

“I know we just met, but, I don’t think you’d willingly let me walk into traffic or a concrete wall. I can do without it for this outing. Promise.”

The elevator chimes open and he carefully guides you in, running his fingers over the buttons until he finds the one for the lobby. The trip down to the main floor is quick, and he hails a taxi quickly in a way that only someone who has lived in New York their entire life could.

“(Y/L/N), (Y/N)!” the nurse calls out into the waiting room. Matt helps you stand, carefully holding onto you as you make your way back for triage. They’re both patient with you as you move as fast as you can through your injury, Matt keeping one of your arms slung around his shoulders as his other strong arm keeps a firm hand on your waist.

“Easy,” he encourages. 

“‘m sorry,” you grunt softly, doing your best to focus and not pass out.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, don’t push yourself too much.”

A small whimper pulls from your throat with each step, the pain in your leg increasing so much you stop focusing on the pain in your arm.

“You’re doing good,” Matt whispers as we walk down the small hall to the treatment area of the ER, the nurse joining him to help you sit down.

“Most of the people in there have nothing more than the sniffles, and you can barely walk,” she explains. “I’m not gonna make you go back out there into that. Is that proper procedure? No. Am I worried that if you keep moving on that leg something will snap? Yes.”

“Thanks,” you say as you use your good arm to slide back and adjust as she starts to confirm information, ask questions, listen to your heart, and take your blood pressure.

“Any chance you might be pregnant?” the nurse asks, typing into the computer.

“No,” you say, resting on the pillows on the gurney.

You watch her look over at Matt, look him up and down before moving her eyes back over to you. “You sure about that? Absolutely positive?”

You start to blush hard, feeling your cheeks grow hot and the tips of your ears burn. “I’m sure.” You shouldn’t even be embarrassed—he isn’t anything to you at all! You're flattered she thinks you could date someone that looks like him, but, the assumption has you bashful.

“If and when you two ever do decide . . . that kid has a nice gene pool to swim in.”

She enters a few more things into your chart, letting you know a doctor should be by soon when she leaves the curtained-off gurney with a hospital gown for you to change into.

“I’ll . . . I can step out so you can change,” Matt says with a blush burning up his neck.

“Matt? Can you please stay?” you blush. “I don’t think I can get undressed and into that gown by myself.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I can see if the nurse—.”

“No! I mean, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, but I just didn’t think that you’d be comfortable helping you like that. If you’re okay with it, I can.”

“I trust you.”

He nods and gives you a small smile, carefully asking with a raise of his brows and his fingertips if he can help you take off your shirt. We carefully maneuver your clothes off, and you're so thankful that you were wearing cozy and stretchy lounge ware when this happened to minimize his touch against your bare skin. You don’t even know the guy, but, having him near you makes your heart race—a fact not-so-well-hid by the monitor you're hooked up to. If he asks about it, you're really hoping you can write it off as exertion from the pain. You’d say it’s crazy of you to be completely charmed and infatuated over a man that you don’t event know, but, who are you kidding—this is textbook behavior for you, and you don’t know whether to be happy or sad that this is the only time he’ll ever be this concerned with you.

“I . . . Do you want me to take your bra off for you, too?” he breathes.

“Um, yeah,” you hum. “They’ll probably need it off to look at my arm. Maybe do an x-ray or something.”

Part of you is expecting his fingers to feel cold against your bare skin as he undoes the clasps, but the surprise of them being warm sends shivers all over your body. With your good arm, you slide it off of your body and help him guide the johnny on your body. He ties it closed, the air charged between you two as your heart pounds in your ears.

“How did you hear where I said the keys were?” you ask as he helps you sit back down. “I barely spoke at my normal voice.”

“You’re . . . You were louder than you think,” he says softly, his brows gently furrowing together, his pouty lips glistening under the fluorescents. “Besides, even if I didn’t hear where it was, I wasn’t gonna just leave."

“Well, thank you.”

“Something tells me you’d do the same for me.” He helps adjust the pillow behind you. “I’m just going off of a hunch, but, I wouldn’t mind helping you with what you’d need. Helping you while you rest, make you some meals.”

“That’s sweet, but, you don’t have to.”

“Like I said—something tells me you’d do the same for me.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of your lips and he does the same, the space between us slowly starting to close, but he backs up as the curtain opens.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Kent,” he says, pushing back the curtain. “I hear someone has had a bad fall.”

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew Your Were Trouble When You Walked In 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

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

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

The clanging is enough to drive you crazy. You snap shut your laptop and let out a huff. A day where you can just stay home and get your work done and the landlord is doing maintenance. It has to be that day.

You check the time and rub your eyes. You look down at your pajama pants mournfully. You’re going to have to wear real clothes. You change into a pair of cords and a gray button up. You pack up your bag and shrug on a jacket as you step into your shoes.

You jingle out with your keys, locking the door behind you before quickly fleeing the echoing metalling thrums. You take the stairs down and tuck your chin down against the crisp autumn air. A tea will help with that, maybe something with a kick of caffeine to wake you up.

The cafe is only a block away. You order some ginger tea and take it to a table in the corner. You set up and hunker down to get through the last of your emails. You cup your chin as you lean your elbow on the table, entranced by the screen.

The rush of the cafe is almost soothing. The white noise helps you get through the overstuffed email sent by your supervisor. Check, check, got that done. You sip your tea as it cools and sit up to type your reply.

“You can have coffee?” The voice interrupts your frantic typing. You look up with brows furrowed. How on earth? “Genuinely curious,” Pete sits across from you, setting his paper cup down on the other end of the table, “with dialysis and everything.”

You blink at him and refocus on your laptop. You don’t want to know how he found you. Whether it’s cruel fate or something more sinister, you have more important things going on.

“You pack a real blow, you know that? I had a bruise and everything,” he complains, “not very nice and I’ll say I’ve been really nice to you.”

You continue to ignore him as you resume your response to Caroline. In hindsight, you would rather sit through the clanking of wrenches and pipes. You swallow your agitation, tuning out the silhouette just on the other side of your screen.

Suddenly, your laptop crushes your hands and your eyes pop up. Pete’s hand lingers on the cover as you snatch your fingers out from under it. You tilt your head in frustration.

“You look like a sweet girl,” he says, “but you’re not, are you?”

“Excuse me?” You hiss.

“Ah, come on, loosen up," he winks.

You shake your head and contemplate your options. You could pack up and go but you risk leading him back to your building. Telling him to go away isn't going to do too much and ignoring him only seems to encourage him.

"You like sweets? They got a great chocolate croissant."

"I'm not hungry," you insist and go back to typing. "I'm busy."

"Lonely too, by the looks of it," he leans forward, "let me buy you something, sweetheart."

Your eyes flick up and you give him a glare. You don't understand this man and he surely doesn't understand you. You're less than interested in any guy but especially not him. Your life has order and you value that. What little you can control, you hold close.

"You don't just come down to the cafe looking like you do and not want attention," he pushes on your laptop again and you stop it from closing. "I mean… how many dudes are gonna hit on a sick girl anyway? I accept you, babe, kidneys and all–"

"That's it," you snap, "get away from me. Now."

"Hey, it's a compliment–"

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"It's fine, we can move past this, I like a little fire–"

You flutter your lashes at him as your chest burns. You want to scream and cry at the same time. You look around, reminding yourself of your audience and take a deep breath.

"I'm asking you nicely…" your voice cracks, betraying you, "to go."

"I didn't do anything wrong–"

"There a problem here?" A deep growl has you shrinking further as Pete turns in his chair to look defiantly up at the man in the black apron.

"No problem. None of your business, bus boy."

The man with the black apron crosses his arms and scoffs, "big problem. I own this place so if you don't leave in the next fifteen seconds, I'll have you trespassed."

"Whatever, bro, me and the lady are having a chat–"

"He bothering you?" The man in the apron asks. You nod, breathless. "On your feet before I throw you on your ass," he growls at Pete.

"Like to see you try," Pete stands and puffs out his chest, "you're getting a one-star, bud." He crushes his cup into the man's apron, spilling the coffee down it, "coffee tastes like dirt anyway."

"Have a good day," the owner sneers, staring until Pete finally retreats, not without sending you a lecherous leer.

You watch after him and swallow, "I'm sorry–"

"You okay?" The man holds the dripping cup, foam on his name tag that reads 'Curtis'.

"Yeah, thanks," you murmur, "I didn't mean to make a scene."

"No worries, you need anything, just ask for Curt," he gives a curt bow and backs away, leaving your to wallow in a stormy rush of nerves.

[beardedmrbean]

Ravioli/raviolo anon here. It occurred to me that I never followed up on my story of how I escaped my roommate's various attempts on my life and I managed to dodge them all like some drunken Mr. Bean. (Is that what I said? I hardly remember, lol. For the record, I don't really drink so much anymore. After I walked home from a birthday celebration a few years back (it wasn't a rager or anything, the bar was just across the road and my birthday is in February so we didn't want to go far) and coldcocked my dome running at top speed into a fence (I was trying to make it into the exit gate before it closed, didn't realize there was a post that came out horizontally across because I don't see very well on account of the fact that I wear colored lenses), I cracked my skull and you can still see where I hit the fence (on my head, I mean, it was a wrought iron fence so I assume I didn't damage it but I never checked), so that's when I realized it was time to slow down).

So it WAS a true story, (I don't really watch television or read much though so if it does resemble a piece of media, I wouldn't know it, lol). Anyway, since I tend to ramble, I will make an effort to keep this in the realm of "less than a novel" but I can't exactly make any promises. I don't know how to add a "read more" or anything fancy like that so in the interest of shortening it I won't be offended if you screenshot only the important parts or even just don't answer it, lol.

There's a little bit of backstory about how I ended up living with the roommate and why he wanted to kill me, long story short he was in the hole about $1600 with me because he bought a motorcycle from me but was "still making payments" on it. He suggested I come room with him in this cheap apartment while we both drove for UPS for peak season. He got fired day two on the job, and so after that he planned to rob me as soon as I finished the season. (In addition to never paying for the bike). I'm a simple guy, though, so I really only had my truck (worthless) and a mattress, and I was just working for the love of the sport so I sent all my checks to my mother and had her send me back a hundred a week. So he can't rob me, so he decides at this point he's mad enough to kill me, and thinks himself pretty clever and that he can do it without getting caught.

About a week into this nonsense, he tells me he's got a job interview in NYC or something, he's gonna be gone tonight, whatever. I'm like, fine, no big deal, hope you get the job, buddy, I'm pretty terrible at this whole UPS thing so I'll be back at midnight or something when I'm done my route. I get home, and I'm about to go to bed, and that's when I decided at about 1AM I sincerely want a grilled cheese sandwich. So I got up, drove across town, and went over to a buddy's house for grilled cheese at 1AM. Come to find out we had a gas leak all night and my roommate is just VERY SHOCKED that we BOTH happened to be out, what are the odds. I'm all "hey, man, God is good, I'll drink to that, get me another beer".

Not long after that, I finish my route at who friggin' knows how late, I'm the last guy in the lot, even the security guards have gone home, and my truck (which cannot be locked, I don't have a key for the door so I leave it unlocked) is, what the heck, locked. I have no way of calling my roommate (same reason why I drove across town to find my buddy instead of just calling and asking: I didn't have a phone at the time), and it's looking like I might just freeze to death out here because it's -3F and it's after midnight in New England, so there's nobody out and about. Well, nobody, except this old Russian guy who sees me standing next to my truck, asks if I need help, and when I tell him I'm locked out, he tells me he's been in prison a few times for carjacking and will get me into my truck in no time. Which he does. So I bring him home with me and we have a beer (he had a few more than me, I had to work in the morning. You know how it is.) (And for the record I have never driven under the influence. I didn't go to college, my CDL is all I have. I don't dick around with that.)

So at this point, my roommate is pretty pissed. I'm either too hammered or too tired to notice. UPS is really kicking my ass. It's finally Christmas time, time to celebrate the end of peak season with a trip to the bar, oorah. He gives me a bottle of Poland Springs and says to drink the whole thing, it's water and we're gonna be drinking hard tonight, gotta hydrate or die-drate, bitch. I knock it back and wouldn't you know it, that son of a bitch didn't give me water, this is straight Everclear. I get to the bar and I'm already sick, I go straight to the toilet and barf all over the place. Somewhere along the line I went up to the bar and started dozing off, at which point they kicked me out, so roommate says "don't worry, I'm gonna take him home". Not sure what the plan from there was, tbqh. I DO know that I realized about halfway out of the city that we weren't headed back to our apartment, and that we were headed towards either Connecticut or NYC, and I told him I wanted to go back home because I did NOT want to go to NYC because if we were going to NYC, that meant we were probably going to watch Eric Andre with his boring cousin in Queens and I was really not in the mood. I'm pretty sure he planned on dumping me somewhere on the highway where I'd freeze to death, and I was slipping back and forth out of consciousness, but I was SO consumed by how badly I did NOT want to go to Queens and watch Eric Andre, I called the cops and told them I was being kidnapped to watch Eric Andre. They were more concerned about the kidnapping part for some reason, (criminal restraint, I think is actually what they called it), caught up to roommate and I halfway out of Clifton Park (we'd apparently been doing 110MPH on the freeway and he was swerving all over the place) and he got arrested.

The next morning the cops told me I should press charges, but that meant staying in the state (because I'd have to be there when it went to trial) and I had other plans. So, I let karma do its work on the roommate (no idea where he is now or what's become of him, but I do know he lost his license and later blew every cent he had on some raffle scam for a Toyota out in California), packed up my stuff, and moseyed on.

I'm marathoning The Twilight Zone with a friend online today (watching the same eps on the same service) this was wilder than any episode I've seen ever.

[apotodiplodocus]

SECURITY

CHAPTER 3

The drive home is both incredibly short and way too long. His mind is mostly blank, the feeling of your lips barely tracing a kiss against his cheek, the smell of your perfume, the sound of your hair swishing with your haste all of it drives him crazy. This random woman he just met today, helped, and got food with wants to go on a date and has surprised him at every turn, how on earth is he planning to pull this off? Is he planning on pulling this off? For the past 8 years, he has been raising his sister by himself, working under an awful man, the only man that would help him his whole life centred around keeping her safe and fed. Does he have time to even think about doing something for himself? How was Ume going to feel? He’d have to talk to her, he was the only parental figure she’d known, being too young to have any meaningful memories of their mother when she died, it was important to get her thoughts on the idea of him dating. It would have been fine if Ume were older and less reliant on him. As much of a burden it had been on him to look after his young sister, his only wish was that he could afford a better life than the cheap apartment and quick meals, the most expensive thing they had was Ume’s school fees, Gyutaro had fought extremely hard to get her into a good school, which was made harder by the fact he was only 18 when he became her guardian. He would put Ume’s life and needs before his own if the situation demanded it which was why he couldn’t just start dating the first woman to show interest in him. He scowled at this thought but relented.

When he reached home, he started pulling the Chinese food out of one of the bags when he noticed something buzzing on the other side and realises you somehow left your phone in the bag. Ume comes barrelling out at the sound of his bike so before he can sort out the phone, he is almost tackled.

“Where were you!? I waited for so long, did you get in trouble at work again?” She screeches “What’s that sound? Oh my God, what’s that smell?!” Immediately forgetting about her brother she examines the bag with the food in it.

“I didn’t know we could afford a takeaway! I would’ve wanted something else!” She whines. Gyutaro rolls his eyes but has an affectionate smile on his face.

“Whatever, we can’t afford it, but it was free so you’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it.” He teases.

“Who would give you free food?” She asks, not really caring about an answer, too caught up in the duck dish she was holding.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, take the food in I’ve got to go return something to someone.” She shrugs.

“Whatever, get back soon I won’t wait for you if you don’t have your keys, I’ll go to sleep and leave you out here all night!” She sticks her tongue out, a smile on her face before trotting back inside. Gyutaro chuckles and puts his helmet back on. He turns the phone’s alarm off and in the process sees an older woman and young boy on your lock screen.

‘Hmm. That must be the family that Kamojo- Whatever his name was threatened.’ He thought to himself. He slips it into his pocket and makes his way back, just about remembering the route. When he arrives something doesn’t seem right, everywhere is eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the nearby road. He puts his riding gear away taking the phone with him. He realises he doesn’t know which apartment is yours and is quietly relieved to see your last name on a buzzer. He presses it and figures out which window it is from the apartment number. He steps back to look and none of the lights are on. He buzzes again but there is no response, and the lights stay off. He is instantly on guard, that isn’t normal. He buzzes your neighbour, and they respond sleepily.

“What? Who is it?”

“I’m here to drop something off for your neighbour it’s really important.”

“How do you know her?” The neighbour asks suspiciously.

“We work together, she left her phone in my bike bag.” He holds your phone up to the camera so they can see.

“Ok, fine, tell her to keep it down though for me, you’d think she was trying to re-arrange her furniture in there.” He lets him in and Gyutaro shoots up the stairs. Why would you be rearranging furniture in the dark? He knows something is wrong and slowly approaches the number that was next to your name outside and sees it’s been left slightly ajar, and he can hear what your neighbour means. He quietly pushes the door open and sees two men in the main room one of them is trying to break into a door at the back of the apartment and the other is tipping stuff over. He slams the door open the rest of the way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yells. The neighbour comes out and tells him to keep it down, Gyutaro just shuts him up and tells him to call the police, the neighbour sees past him and at the overturned furniture in your room, the situation dawning on him. The men have swivelled by now and are approaching him.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, leave.” One of them states.

“Oh, and you are? I bet you work for that Kamoji guy, don’t you?” Gyutaro grins menacingly. They don’t correct him but look at each other.

“You the one that dislocated his arm?” The other questions through a snarl.

“Yeah, and I’d do more if ‘e was here, fortunately for ‘im it’s just you two sad sacks.” Gyutaro growls back grin not even twitching. He isn’t scared of these idiots, one of them couldn’t get through a door that thin and the other strained to flip the couch, Gyutaro has beaten tougher guys than them for fewer reasons.

They approach him and as he gets ready to swing, you peek through a tiny gap in the door, and he sees a black eye. Furious he immediately dodges an attack from the both of them, lunging to the side and pivoting behind the other. When the henchman he isn’t behind turns to swing again Gyutaro’s fist is already flying into his jaw, making a loud cracking noise. The henchman drops to his knees in pain but is still conscious. The other man has now whirled around and managed to backhand Gyutaro’s face, not that he cares or really feels it, spitting blood from his bust lip in the man’s eye and uppercutting him, his head flies back before being pushed back by a punch to his solar plexus. Gyutaro spots the other has now stumbled to his fight and is swinging wildly and Gyutaro wants to laugh.

‘Amateurs’ he thinks to himself, dodging easily and smacking the back of the man’s head pushing him down onto his awaiting knee, letting him fall to the side. He pants for a second, coming down from the adrenaline rush, both men on the floor unconscious. He wipes his mouth and turns to you.

“You got any duct tape or rope?” You jump when he acknowledges you again. You nod resolutely and scurry to your kitchen chucking him some duct tape from a drawer. After a moment both men are hog-tied with the tape on your living room floor as you wait for the police to arrive. He starts to grip the couch as if to turn it the right way up when you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Your lip is still bleeding, let me help.” You smile softly at him. He didn’t think someone could look at him so softly but nods and lets you guide him to your kitchen. He takes a seat at the small table then and you grab a first aid kit.

“I’m actually a first aider so rest easy I know what I’m doing!” You say sitting down and lifting a sleeve of your pyjama shirt and playfully flexing your bicep. When he doesn’t do anything, you deflate a bit. “Just, uh… Pretend that didn’t happen.” He does let out a tiny laugh at that and you smile again glad to bring up the mood a bit. You reach up to his cheek to get a better look tilting his head.

“Just a small cut, it’s not even bleeding that much.” He looks at you, and it’s almost sinful when he licks the blood dripping from his lip. Your breath hitches in surprise, but he makes no reaction.

“A-anyway,” You clear your throat. “I’ll just disinfect it and give you something cold to put on it. He just nods in response, eyes switching between lingering on your black eye or the two goons on the floor. After you’re both settled, Gyutaro finally remembers what he came back to do.

“Oh, right. You forgot this in my bag.” He passes the phone over.

“Ah! Thank you, I was looking for this when they came in.” You say when you realise your house had just been broken into and you had been in real danger. Your heart starts to pound, the shock of the situation finally wearing off. “Oh.” Was all you could say reaching up touching the black eye and hissing a little when tears run into the cut residing there. Gyutaro doesn’t know what to do, when Ume cries, they’re usually fake to get what she wants or if they are real, he just hugs her, but he can’t do that here. He’s left watching you rattle with sobs at the realisation of everything that had happened in just one day. You didn’t even know what those men wanted they just forced themselves into your house and one of them punched you when you yelled for them to leave. Gyutaro was just opening and closing his mouth, not sure what to say. You think about what could have happened if Gyutaro hadn’t been there at the office, if he hadn’t given you a ride home, if you hadn’t left your phone and if he hadn’t been kind enough to come straight back to give it to you. Would you be dead? Kidnapped? You don’t try to stop yourself from leaping up to give him a hug.

You wrap your arms around his torso and plant your head on his shoulder sobbing into the work shirt he hadn’t had a chance to change out of yet. Gyutaro didn’t know what to do, it would be easy to hug you back, but he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that yet. You had still only just met.

“Thank you Gyutaro, thank you so, so much. I hate that you’ve had to do so much for me in one day but thank you, God. You’re my hero.” You wail. Gyutaro’s heart does pick up speed much to his chagrin, especially since he knows you’ll be able to feel it from your position, but lightly encircles your waist, a barely there tough.

“It’s fine, need you alive for that date on Saturday anyway.” He grumbles trying to make a joke, and it works. You laugh, tearful giggling after a forceful exhale.

“Yeah, I’d be so pissed to miss that.” You affirm and Gyutaro still can’t wrap his around the fact you really want a date. You let him go, apologising for how sudden it was and your waist feels a bit cold, but you shrug it off.

“Since I’ve got you here, shall we talk about our date a bit? Maybe plan something? I could do with the distraction” You ask eyes shining, wiping away tears gently.

“If you want.” He tries to be non-committal about it, especially since he hasn’t had the chance to talk to Ume about it yet but is too intrigued by what you would want to do to refuse.

“Hmm. Well, I did suggest we could go watch a film but I’m not sure if there’s anything actually interesting in cinemas right now. Ooh! I know, to thank you for everything how about I make you a meal? I’ll clean this place up during the week and on Saturday you can come round, I’ll cook something nice, and we can chill, watch a film on TV and get to know each other!” You gasp out. Gyutaro would prefer that over being outside all day, but it also feels so intimate. He’s only in your house now because it was a dangerous situation, coming over for a date was so, so cosy and it almost intimidated him to be alone with you at your home. But he also hasn’t had a proper home-cooked meal in, well, ever actually now he thinks about it. He mulls it over before hesitantly agreeing.

“OK. I have some time after work tomorrow if you want me to come back and turn the furniture over for you if you want?” He asks quietly. Almost hoping you say yes.

“No-no! I couldn’t ask you to do that for me after everything today. I’ll be fine, I don’t think anything was actually damaged.” You reply throwing your hands up, you’d feel guilty if he did help you with that, plus you wanted to show him you were a capable person, not just someone who always needed help. He just nods going back to watching the men on the floor with so much indignation, as if he were the one they had wanted all along, not you. At this point, Gyutaro figures he does like you enough to feel like this was a personal attack on him, which he thought would be an impossible thought so early. He just assumes it’s because he’s already defended you twice, and your gratitude was a nice feeling that stroked his ego. And God, when you called him your hero, he had so many conflicting feelings, he felt like he could float to space he never thought someone would call him that and on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel like you would change your mind so quickly when you learned of what he did in the past to get so good at fighting. There is a comfortable silence as you both try to sift through your feelings. You know for sure you want the date to go well, especially excited after all this which feels like such a bad way to react to the trauma of your home being invaded, but with Gyutaro there you didn’t have to be scared of those men anymore, and after their defeat who would go to your apartment again? One of them had to have a broken jaw for sure, you heard the crunch and the other probably had a concussion, it wasn’t an awful beat down, but probably enough to make their boss think again, especially since now you could turn them in and report it. At that, there is a knock on the still-open door and a man with flame-like hair walks in.

“Oh my! What happened here!” He exclaims. “I am Officer Rengoku Kyojuro, are you OK madam? Mr Shabana?” He recognises Gyutaro, who has turned away in annoyance at the sight of the man.

“Yes, I’m OK, thanks to Gyutaro. These men broke into my apartment and attacked me.” One of them groans in pain as he begins to wake up.

“I see, would you both be willing to make a statement?” He says still loudly. You both nod and explain everything that had happened that day.

“I see! Despicable! I shall take them to the station for questioning. Here is my number for enquiries, please see a doctor for your eye, Madam. It was nice to see you again, Mr Shabana.” He exclaims before grabbing the two men by an arm each and hauling them up, without so much as a struggle which leaves you gobsmacked.

“Did you see that? He picked them both up like they were nothing.”

“Yeah? So what…” Gyutaro says, almost jealous of your gushing over Rengoku.

“Thank you again, Gyutaro. You don’t know how thankful I really am.” You want to give him another kiss on the cheek, but he looks a bit jumpy from everything that’s happened, so you decide against it.

“Yeah, um, you’re welcome. I need to get back to my sister.” He says excusing himself to leave, giving you back your bag of peas that he’d had cradled to his face, which hadn’t been necessary, but you’d give him a look when he’d taken it away before.

“Oh, of course! Say hello to her for me, she has a fantastic brother.” You smile. He gets flustered and just nods, trying not to sprint out of your house. You wave him off from your window, left in your wrecked apartment.

Sighing you resolve to tidy it up after work the next day and just head straight for the shower.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro makes it home once more, locking his bike and shoving his way through the front door. It’s been about an hour so he knows his food will be cold, Ume is sitting on the couch the remnants of her meal on the old coffee table in front of her.

“Come on, at least tidy up after yourself.” He groans.

“Hey, I only finished like 20 mins ago! I haven’t even gotten up yet- What the hell happened to your face?!” She yells. Seeing his cut lip.

“Long story I’ll tell you once I’ve had a shower, at least throw away the boxes by the time I’m out. And for fucks sake do your homework.” He says, taking his shoes off and heading straight for the bathroom.

“Whatever.” She tries to sound like she doesn’t care but she can’t help but feel a bit concerned. He can hear her grumbling about her homework as he undresses.

After his shower, he comes out to Ume finishing her homework, she doesn’t look up at him until he’s hovering to read it.

“Half of it’s wrong.” He states, an eyebrow raised.

“What?!” She grasps the paper holding it up. “Oh, come on!”

“Come here.” He sits and starts going over the parts she gets wrong, and they eventually finish it together. He sees she has cleaned up her mess and is appreciative, he likes to keep a clean house probably from the early days he was looking after Ume. Child protective services would visit every week to make sure Ume wasn’t living in squalor. It had been a long time since they stopped coming but he was always paranoid. He sighs as he sits back on the couch, thinking he’s procrastinated enough.

“If I told you I had a date on Saturday, what would you say?”

“Ha, that’s funny.” She says, not taking her eyes off the TV until a moment later when he hasn’t said anything in response, only quirking an eyebrow at her again.

“No way… No way! How? Who? What?!”

“Thanks.” He scoffs.

“No, that’s not what I meant, you’ve never been on a date, I’ve never even seen you look at a woman for longer than a second. Are they a man? I wouldn’t have a problem if it was.” She chortles, teasing him.

“No, they aren’t a man! She’s a woman from work.” He responds incredulously.

“Wait, day work or night work?” She looks a bit concerned; she doesn’t want him dating someone from his nightshifts, she finds them creepy and horrible.

“Day. Helped her with a guy that was gettin’ handsy and she insisted on food and a date.”

“So she paid for the takeout?”

“Yeah, anyway she left her phone in my bike bag and when I took it back to her someone had broken into her house.”

“Fuuuck, that’s rough.” Gyutaro scolds her with a look for language. “Hey, you say it all the time what’s the big deal?” She huffs and crosses her arms.

“Whatever, the plan is I go round at 1 so I won’t be home for a while on Saturday, are you OK with all this?” She looks confused.

“Yeah? It’s not my business what you do, brother. I couldn’t care less as long as she isn’t a bitch. Plus that means I get the house to myself.”

“No parties.”

“Oh come on!”

“Seriously Ume, this is important. I don’t know how I want this to go yet. If it goes well, we might be apart more often, or she might come around sometimes. A lot would change, and I’ve always been focused on you.” Ume understands his concern but after him basically being a helicopter parent she’s ready for a bit more time apart, she’s a young woman now after all. She dearly loves her brother and wants him to be happy.

“Brother, I really am OK with it, plus I know if I want you back home, you’ll be back immediately anyway. I’m not a child, I don’t need you around all the time.” Gyutaro hums, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “Oh! If this girl actually likes you, maybe you can stop being so whingy about your self-esteem all the time.” She rolls her eyes.

“Hey!” He barks. She only laughs and nudges his arm.

“I’m gonna go do my nightly routine and go to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, go use your hella expensive shit.” He waves her off, hearing her scoff echo as she entered the bathroom. He flops his head on the back of his couch, letting out a sigh of exhaustion knowing he has work again soon. He’s gonna get shit for having an injury in that crowd but he also knows he can beat most of them anyway.

He sighs again slapping his hands on his knees and standing to go get changed for his next shift. He puts on his simple black clothes, fixes his hair back up and puts on his boots. His boss calls him, demanding he gets there early to sort something out, and since he’d been expecting it, he’s already waiting for it, an hour early for work. He’d been working for Muzan since his mother died, a full eight years, and he was planning to leave as soon as he could, not liking the direction things were going, but knowing Muzan was dangerous. He had been working hard to not give Muzan a reason to hold a grudge when he eventually asked to leave, it would be difficult, but he was determined, getting away from Muzan would be better for Ume’s future, he didn’t like the way she was entranced by the much older man. Working as a bouncer for an exclusive club run by Muzan which had a thriving drug ring in it meant he had to be insanely careful about his identity, if his identity was compromised, he would be set to lose everything.

His shift ends after an especially brutal fight broke out, while he enjoyed it, he decided that the next shift would be his last, the man had almost ripped his mask off and he wasn’t willing to take the risk anymore, not since he was setting himself up to lose something else. He could survive on the day job at the office for a while, they’d even offered him a full-time position after his handling of the situation that day, he’d told them he wanted to think about it, but he had a set plan now.

He just had to get out from Muzan’s thumb.

[talia-rumlow]

My Brother´s Best Friend (Rumlow X Reader) Chapter Six - Like What You See?

Since I´ve been working non stop with getting my stuff back up on Wattpad, I haven´t been able to publish here for a while. And I´m sorry for that. But today, I´m gonna bless you with a new chapter of this story, and "Bound & Brockened" will be up shortly. Enjoy!

– Fine, fucking keep it, Brock. I’m sure you’ll find a way to have some fun with it. You’ve ruined the thrill anyway.

He looks at you.

– Woah.. Hey, YN! I was only joking!

You turn away from him, put your pants on.

– Did you find my brush? Or was my toy so intriguing that you forgot the important thing?

His smirk disappeares. He puts the magic wand back in your suitcase, and puts your brush down on the bed.

– YN, give me a break here. I found it! It was a joke. You know, like ha ha!

You take your brush, and start to fix your hair. You can see him in the mirror. God those abs. He’s been working out.

– Well, you have the social IQ of a five year old!

You can see in the mirror that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Then he starts to get dressed. You follow him with your eyes in the mirror. Fuck, he looks good. His abs flexing, when he pulls his shirt over his head. That distinct V shaped lower upper body of his, disappearing down into his boxers. You swallow.

– Like what you see?

Shit! Did he notice that you looked at him? Keep it cool, YN! Keep. It. Cool.

– Oh, please, don’t flatter yourself! You’re not THAT good looking.

– Haven’t had any complaints yet!

You turn around. What is his deal? Does he want you to get angry at him?

– That’s because the women you sleep with probably have the IQ of a peanut!

– Whatever. I’m getting coffee for the road. Want one?

You don’t answer. Instead you get your make up out of your bag. Start to put it on. He looks at you for a bit, before he leaves.

When the door close behind him, you close your eyes. Jesus! This is SO not going to work. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be him back then, and why did it have to be him now? You could stay behind here. Find a Greyhound or something. Oh, for fucks sake. It’s only two more days, one maybe, if you don’t make too many stops. You can do that. You have your music, and your books. Yeah, you can do this. Just don’t think about him, and try not to talk to him.

You put the rest of your stuff back in your suitcase. Then your stomach growls loudly. Breakfast. Let’s hope there is something in a vending machine somewhere that you can eat.

Loud honking from outside! He want’s to hit the road, and get this over with as fast as you do. Thank GOD! Maybe you could drive for 12 hours straight, and take an overnighter just one more time. Hopefully in separate rooms. You grab the Key, and walk outside, locking the door behind you.

Rumlow stands by the car, eagerly waiting for you. You walk up to him an hand him the Key.

– You could have thrown it to me. Would have saved us some time!

– What, like two seconds?

You get into the front seat. Look after him as he disappeares into the office to deliver the key. Jesus, YN. He’s really NOT that good looking. Good looking, yes. But you’ve seen better. Yes, you have, YN! Yes, you have!

You put your air-pods in, turn the volume to max. And open your book. You’re already on the next Page, when Rumlow returns. Then you hit the road again. He’s not saying anything, and if he did you wouldn’t have heard it anyway.

You just finished 50 Shades Of Grey, when Rumlow stops the car. You close the book, and look up. He’s parked in front of a fancy hotel of some kind. It’s not dark, and you haven’t been driving for so long. Is he going to drag you through another night in the same bed? If he is, you’ll be sleeping on the floor. Or kick him out of the bed. There is NO WAY IN HELL you’ll be spending another night in his bed.

You look at him. Remove your air-pods.

– Food, YN! We need food. Your stomach has been growling like a lion for the last hour.

– I don’t know if you noticed, Brock. But THIS is a hotel. It has rooms, and beds, and are commonly used for staying the night.

– They have a nice restaurant!

He says, while exiting the car. You take a deep breath, before you follow him.

He was right. The restaurant is nice. Nice atmosphere, soothing music. Nice. A waiter seats you at a table, opposite each other. Hands you both a menu. You look at it. A bunch of fancy names, none of which you know. And the prices. Jeez! You look at Rumlow.

– I… I can’t af…

– Don’t worry. It’s on me!

Wow. He’s paying for your dinner? Does he feel bad about this morning? Is this his way of saying sorry? Stop it, YN! Just eat the food.

– What do you want?

He asks. Putting his menu down on the table in front of him.

– I… I don’t even know what this stuff is…

He smiles at you.

– Not very fluent in eating out, huh? The NY strip is good.

You close your menu, and put it down on the table.

– Surprise me. But NO funny business. Keep it like normal. No snails or tarantellas or anything..

He laughs. The smile seems genuine.

– I’ll just get you the same thing I’m having. OK?

You look down. Why is he being so nice all of a sudden? Is he scared that you’re mad about this morning? Are you mad about this morning? You’re annoyed by him. But, maybe not mad. At least not very.

The food tastes good. And you were really hungry. Rumlow pays the bill, and then you leave for the car. You look at the time. Almost 7pm already. Well, guess you’ll have to survive a couple more nights. But in separate rooms, at least in separate beds.

– Thanks for the food. It was amazing.

– You’re welcome. We’ll be going out a lot more, when we reach New York.

Go out? Much more? Is he thinking about spending the summer with you and Jack. You don’t get to think anything more about that, before Rumlow turns the key, and the car makes a strange noise. You look over at him, trying to turn the key again. Nothing happens.

– Wh… What’s wrong?

You try to sound confident. But you’re absolutely NOT! If the car broke down that means.. that… Fuck! You don’t even want to think about it.

– I don’t know. I’m not a fucking mechanic!

– Maybe find an Auto repair shop or something.

He doesn’t answer. He just exits the car. And walk back into the hotel. You put your music on, and start to read 50 Shades Darker. You don’t hear his door opening an closing. And this chapter that you’re reading is really captivating. He removes one of your air-pods. You jump!

– God! Stop scaring the shit out of me!

– Can’t get the car fixed tonight. I checked us in here. We’ll get car help, first thing tomorrow.

Great, another night, in the same bed. Fuck!

You get out of the car, and get your stuff together. When you turn around, to follow him, you walk straight into him. Your back against the car. His arms on both sides of you. His face dangerously close to yours. Then he dangles a key in front of you.

– I got you your own room.

You snatch the key from him.

– What? Am I supposed to say thank you?

He leans in closer again. You don’t move. Is he going to kiss you? Why did he get you your own room, if he’s going to do that?

– You can play with that little toy of yours all you want tonight..

His teasing words, and that stupid smirk make you boil inside. You push him away, and walk away from him. Not saying anything. Fucking arrogant, childish bastard!

– I’ll be right across the hall!

That’s the last thing you hear him say, before the doors to the lobby closes behind you.

@nekoannie-chan @here4thefanfics @late-to-the-party-81 @there-goes-thefighter @mostlybuckystuff

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[sparklegirl-3000]

Dystopian fiction

"Miss Lynn," A young Cordelia called her one night as she lay in bed. Lynn was just getting ready to leave the Wards' Dormitories.

"Yes, Cordelia?" Despite them being mere Caretaker and Ward (and despite Cordelia being only one of 1,000,000 Wards in her Batch), they have a very close relationship, almost like a mother and daughter, but in secret; family-like bonds were highly discouraged in the Colony.

"Has anyone ever tried going to the Surface before?"

Lynn paused, looking for the right words to say. It was a sensitive issue, and she wasn't sure if this was the right time to tell her. But Cordy seemed old enough; she would understand. Lynn looked around furtively, before going to Cordelia's bedside and whispered, "I'm gonna tell you a little secret. Okay?"

Cordelia lit up and nodded enthusiastically. She loved being trusted with secrets. It made her feel important; like a Treasurer keeping the most valuable treasures under lock and key. It was mostly things like each other's favourite colour or deepest fears, which Caretakers weren't supposed to share with their Wards. This secret felt especially important. Valuable, even.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cordelia."

"Me?"

"Well, not exactly you. Your Namesake from last century." Cordelia didn't know what that meant, but she continued listening. "This Cordelia was a curious young lady. She once stumbled into the Colony from the Surface."

"WHAT!" Cordelia yelled out impulsively, and Lynn quickly shushed her in a panic. Cordelia immediately put her hands to her mouth. "I mean, what?"

Lynn glanced around quickly, hoping the ensuing silence would erase any evidence of her storytelling. Not a peep. She silently exhaled in relief before continuing the story. "No one knew how she got here. No one knew how she even knew how to get in. But they had to get rid of her."

"No!" Present-Cordelia gasped in horror, quietly this time.

"Oh, yes," Lynn affirmed. "They couldn't let anyone--" she looked around again, "anyone, know that there were still dwellers on the Surface."

"But I thought there was no way anyone could survive on the Surface," she said.

"That's what they teach you in School, Cordelia. That's why this is a secret."

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[yourtamaki]

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend. 

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?” 

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.” 

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens. 

“i’ll try.” 

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left. 

let them watch. 

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him. 

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it. 

your mattsun who was always just a text away. 

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes. 

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it. 

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.” 

“what if things get worse?” 

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.” 

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.” 

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth. 

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?” 

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one. 

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head. 

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside. 

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin. 

you can’t stop listening to it. 

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you. 

this isn’t part of the script. 

you don’t know your lines. 

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently. 

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear. 

“why’re you asking?” 

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?” 

“no.” 

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?” 

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind. 

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes. 

“no, issei ‘m not.” 

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.” 

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know. 

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out. 

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.” 

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence. 

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you. 

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?” 

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment. 

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world. 

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.” 

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him. 

“am i explaining it okay?” 

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?” 

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.” 

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.” 

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.” 

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours. 

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject. 

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.” 

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.” 

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning. 

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.” 

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you. 

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.” 

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.�� it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?” 

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.” 

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes. 

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.” 

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other. 

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.” 

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years. 

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need. 

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.” 

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched. 

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?” 

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.” 

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed. 

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it” 

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake. 

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-” 

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.” 

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip. 

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.” 

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?” 

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.” 

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear. 

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.” 

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?” 

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?” 

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.” 

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were. 

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him. 

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.” 

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak. 

“what is it, baby? use your words.” 

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.” 

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible. 

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock. 

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being. 

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

[lockefanfic]

Black Silk

Shin Ryujin hated waiting.

“This is so unprofessional,” she says, tapping impatiently on the steering wheel with hands covered in black leather driving gloves. “You would think considering how desperately they wanted the package that they’d be here on time.”

You grin to yourself. People in your line of work weren’t the most upstanding of folk, and you knew from experience that punctuality was relatively low on the list of virtues held in high regard.

“They’ll be here, Ryujin,” you say, turning to her to offer an appeasing smile. “Be patient. Just make sure you’re ready to move once the deal is done.”

Ryujin lets out a sharp, dismissive huff from her nose. 

“I’m always ready,” she states, finally stopping her incessant tapping on the steering wheel to cross her arms in frustration, choosing instead to glare at something through the driver’s side window. You’re happy to let her frustration simmer. Ryujin could be beautiful or sexy or cute or some mixture of all three at her whim - but she was downright adorable when she was frustrated.

You are about to tease her further when three sets of headlights appear at the opposite entrance to the large, abandoned plane hangar you were currently parked in. 

Ryujin snaps to attention - suddenly alert, senses primed. When the other vehicles come to a  stop inside the hangar, she flashes your car’s high beams three times. The first of the three vehicles opposite you flashes its lights three times in return.

“Here we go,” you say as you swing the passenger seat open and make your way out of the car. Ryujin exits the vehicle as well, although she keeps the driver side door open. She meets you at the trunk, which she pops open with a click on her key fob. Inside is a metallic secure container the size of a large briefcase - and an H&K 416c rifle fitted with a large capacity drum magazine.

You grab the package by its handle. Ryujin grabs the short barrelled rifle, discreetly racking the charging handle to chamber a round before keeping it low and behind her to keep it concealed from view. She takes up position behind the reinforced, bulletproof driver side door with one hand resting casually on the window, the other on the rifle’s pistol grip as it rests near the door's hinge. 

“Be careful,” she says. 

You turn back to her with a reassuring smile, even though her eyes are locked on the three vehicles. Package swinging casually in one hand, you make your way towards the old office table and chair that stood at the midway point between you and the new arrivals.

The occupants of the vehicles file out, and a quick headcount reveals that there are eight of them, all women. It wasn’t hard to see which one was the leader - her bright red leather jacket and fishnet stockings stood out starkly from the dark, subdued business and formal wear of the rest of her crew.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says nonchalantly with a vaguely Californian twang. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No, not too long,” you answer, as casually as you could manage. You take advantage of the relatively dim lighting inside the hangar to take note of the positions of the other seven members of the crew, running through possible contingency plans in your head. Twenty or so metres behind you, you were sure Ryujin was doing much the same. Even though your brain was running at a million miles a minute, it was important that you at least appear calm and collected.

“You got the goods, I see?” the leader asks with a nod of her head towards the package in your hand.

“Maybe,” you answer, as casually as you are able. “I was told to deliver it to someone codenamed The Queen. Are you her?”

“Maybe. You can call me Tiffany.”

“Nice to meet you, Tiffany. Unfortunately I’d prefer not to give my name - I’m sure you understand. Now we’re all busy people, so how about I give you the package, you pay me my fees, and we each go on our merry little way?”

A sly smile appears on the young woman’s cherry red lips. She regards you for a moment longer before giving Ryujin and your car an appraising glance. With the wave of a hand, she motions one of her minions forward.

“Give him the cash, Yoona.”

A tall, slender woman with beautiful, delicate features steps forward, a metallic briefcase similar in size to yours clasped in one hand. The thick-thock of her high heels sound almost obnoxiously loud in the relative silence of the hangar as she makes her way towards the table.

She places her briefcase onto it with a loud thud, motioning with her head for you to do the same.

There was always a momentary moment of sheer dread when it came to making the exchange. If things were going to go sideways, it would be now. Your fingers squeeze the handle of the package a little tighter. Your heart beats a little quicker. A bead of sweat drips down the side of your head, and you are happy that the dim lighting doesn’t betray your anxiety to your business partners.

Thankfully, the pale, beautiful girl in front of you shows none of the warning signs that you’d seen in other exchanges. There is a no-nonsense resting bitch face on her otherwise pretty features - absentmindedly, you wonder for a moment what she would look like if she smiled.

You place the package onto the table next to the briefcase. She takes it, and sparing not a single moment more, turns and heads back towards her waiting group. Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief as you take the briefcase containing your payment off the table before taking a few steps backward toward Ryujin and your waiting car.

Yoona presents the package to one of the shorter members of her group - a soft, cute woman with a shock of short, bright blonde hair. She has opened a laptop on the hood of one of their vehicles, and after opening the package, she hooks it up to whatever was inside before typing furiously into the keyboard.

Throughout it all, Tiffany’s eyes remain locked on you, a slim smile on her dark red lips, as though there were something about the transaction that amused her.

“You don’t care what was inside?”

“Not even a little bit,” you answer. “There are three-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tiffany interrupts, her eyes rolling back in her head disdainfully, as though she’d heard what you were about to say a million times before. “Never change the deal, no names, and never look in the package. You couriers are all the same.”

“I’m glad we’ve made such a positive impression,” you answer with a hint of sarcasm. You rest a hand as casually as you could on the old swivel chair next to the desk - ready to reach for the pistol Ryujin had duct-taped to its underside should shit hit the fan.

“And you’re not gonna check the briefcase? It could be full of Monopoly money, for all you know.”

“I trust you. And if you screw me over, well, I’ll know where to find you in order to rectify the situation.”

A smirk appears on Tiffany’s lips at your thinly veiled threat, but the sense of amusement on her face doesn’t fade in the slightest.

“You have balls. You and your partner,” she says with a nod behind you, towards Ryujin.

Not wanting to engage any further and prolong the transaction, you settle for giving her a shrug and a smile. For a few long, uncomfortable seconds, the soft typing of the girl at the keyboard is the only sound filling the otherwise quiet hangar.

“Is it legit, Sunny?” Tiffany eventually asks, breaking the uneasy silence.

“It’s legit,” the short girl answers, packing up her laptop and the package. Tiffany gives you one last smirk.

“Alright then,” she begins. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go-”

Tiffany is interrupted when a third member of her crew, a short, slender woman in a black dress, emerges from the rear of their crew to whisper something into her ear. The sarcastic smirk that seemed permanently affixed to Tiffany’s face widens. 

“It’s your lucky day, Mr. Courier. It seems our boss has arranged for a bonus for you - a reward for having transported the package to us so safely and… promptly.”

This wasn’t good - anything that changed the terms of the deal was never a good sign, even if it was labelled as a bonus. Your mind runs at a million miles a second. Your hand tightens a little more around the briefcase, while the other one inches slowly towards the hidden pistol under the chair.

“Is that so?” you answer, as casually and nonchalantly as you could manage. You had to stall for time while you came up with a plan to escape whatever it was that was about to sent your way. “I didn’t know someone called The Queen could even have a boss.”

“We all have bosses,” Tiffany replies, with a matter-of-fact sigh. “Anyway, I think you’ll want some privacy while you indulge in this particular... bonus. Perhaps you can ask your driver over there to give you some space.”

She makes a twirling motion in the air with her finger, and the members of her crew all re-enter their vehicles - all except the woman in the black dress. Tiffany is the last to board, turning around to shoot you one last smile.

“Toodles,” she says with a casual wave. “Oh, and do enjoy.”

The three vehicles quickly back up from the hangar, seemingly leaving the girl in the black dress behind. Once you are satisfied that they are a safe distance away, you turn to Ryujin and give her a nod.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks.

You nod to her again, giving her a smile of reassurance that only half-satisfies her. Shooting you an uneasy frown, she gets into your vehicle, closes the door, and after starting the car, backs it up until she leaves via the same entrance you arrived in.

Alone now with the girl in the black dress, you give her an appraising look from head to toe. She was slender, short, the black silk of her dress wrapping tightly around her small frame and showing off the soft curves and slim lines beneath it. Wavy black hair frames a face filled with soft and youthful features, making placing her age a difficult proposition.

“So what’s this bonus your boss has for me?” you ask, as nonchalantly as you could.

A slim smile appears on the girl’s lips. There is a mysteriousness about her, a strangeness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. She wore it like a dress, as much of her clothing as the black silk draped around her small frame.

“I think you know what it is,” she answers, her first words calm and measured, “...it’s me.”

The girl steps closer to you, and your body tenses at her proximity - although the allure of her deep, dark eyes keeps you from answering the alarm bells ringing in your head. A pale, slender hand reaches out to the briefcase of cash in your hand, her fingers wrapping themselves around its handle before taking it from your grasp and placing it delicately onto the ground. The ease at which she’d divested you of your hard-earned fees surprised and frightened you in equal measure.

Her fingers play with the front flap of your blazer, her long, slim fingers tracing lazy patterns on your chest.

“I’m not quite sure I follow, Miss-”

“Taeyeon,” she answers, firmly and confidently. “Kim Taeyeon.” Names weren’t always freely exchanged in your line of work, and her willingness to divulge hers, even if it was a pseudonym, spoke of her complete confidence. Her finger suddenly ceases playing with your chest to slowly trace a path down towards your waist.

“Taeyeon,” you repeat. “Anyway, as thankful as I am for your boss’s generosity, I…”

Your sentence dies in your mouth as Taeyeon’s finger reaches your waist. Her other hand joins it, quickly undoing your belt, and soon after the button and zipper to your jeans. Her fingers hook into the waistline of your boxers before she gives them a gentle tug, pulling them and your jeans down halfway your thighs - and freeing your quickly hardening cock.

Throughout the entire process of undressing you her eyes have not left yours. There is a playful confidence there. Hers was the look of a woman who knew exactly who she was and what she was doing - while enjoying every second of it. Every alarm and alert in your brain was telling you to stop her from going any further, but there is something in her eyes that keeps you from paying heed to your brain’s warnings.

“Miss Kim, this really isn’t necessary,” you say, although the words lack conviction. “I don’t really want-”

Taeyeon’s slim, pale fingers wrap themselves around your shaft for the first time - and your final words of resistance die in your throat. The sly smile on the girl’s lips widens. Her fingers begin to pump up and down your length softly, every stroke sending sweet little shocks of pleasure up your spine as your cock quickly comes to full stiffness.

“Really?” she asks, with exaggerated incredulousness. “What’s the matter, too much of a gentleman to fuck a girl that’s been bought and paid for?”

“I… I, uh, I don’t usually fuck-”

“...whores?” Taeyeon snaps, although the sly smile on her lips carries no hint of condescension. The word leaves her lips without any sense of hesitation or judgement, as though she were asking you a simple, obvious question.

“I, no, Taeyeon, I meant-”

“Don’t worry about it,” she answers, her eyes temporarily leaving yours to look down on your cock, which she has continued to pump and up down with a closed fist. “I know what I am. And I won’t judge you for not wanting to fuck me… although your friend here begs to differ.”

“My friend has a habit of getting me into trouble,” you answer with a smirk.

“Does it?” she answers, her tone playful. She breaks eye contact with you to glance down at your shaft again, now leaking glistening pre-cum over your head. She licks her lips - and you take it to mean that she liked what she saw.

“Yeah. It always wants to stick around and play when I really should be leaving.”

“Interesting,” Taeyeon answers, fixing her gaze on yours once more. “My mouth does that to me too.”

Eyes not leaving yours, Taeyeon slowly drops to her knees. With one hand on the base of your cock she points it towards her mouth before her small, pink tongue darts out to give it a long, wet lick from base to tip. You shiver with pleasure. Your eyes close involuntarily, and it takes more effort than you cared to admit to force them open once more so you could watch as Taeyeon reaches the tip of your cock, swirling her pink tip around your head, slathering it with saliva and milky pre-cum.

The sly, devilish smile on her lips widens. Those eyes had never left yours, drinking in the pleasure she was conjuring in your body like it was some fine wine to be tasted and savored.

Satisfied that you were bound now to her whim, a slave to her thrall, she takes you into her mouth.

Your attempts to keep your eyes open fail almost immediately, your lids shutting over thankful eyes as those first delicious sparks of pleasure begin to radiate from your shaft, travelling up your spine and into an overwhelmed brain. Your mind had been running a million miles a minute over the past hour or so - and to go so rapidly from being tense and on-edge to an unforeseen but not unwelcome windfall of pleasure was a little more than it could handle.

Nonetheless you do your best to savor it, savor every second as the young woman on her knees in front of you takes your hard, stiff cock in and out of her hot, wet mouth, perfect pink lips closed tightly around its length, lathering it with a slick sheen of her spit and your pre-cum. Your left hand reaches out under its own volition, resting on the side of Taeyeon’s head as it bobs up and down on your shaft, your fingers slowly drifting down to cup her chin. 

She looks up at you again - soft, innocent eyes that held a glimmer of something devious in their corners, as though she were only barely repressing something else behind the cloak of confidence she wore around her.

Your hips begin to move in time with Taeyeon’s movements on your cock, shoving your length even deeper and faster into her wanton mouth. The girl welcomes it, encourages it by bracing her hands on the sides of your hips, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling them back towards her.

Your other hand joins your left, cradling the back of her head, taking your liberties with her face as it continues to suck tightly on every inch of your cock with every entrance and exit of it between her tightly pursed lips. Soon she has ceased moving her head, letting you truly fuck her face, thrusting in and out of her wet mouth at your own pace. Her eyes remain locked on yours the whole time, her gaze never wavering, that look of fulfilled lust never diminishing - only strengthening with every thrust you made into her face.

Your eyes close involuntarily once again, a sigh of wordless pleasure leaving your throat as your head tilts back and you take a moment to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Only a few minutes ago you were so tense, so anxious and fearful about the possibility of a deal gone wrong; and your weary brain had no capacity left to fight the orgasm quickly building in your loins. Your peak nears after only a few minutes - quicker than you would have liked, but you were too lost, too drunk in the tight wetness of the woman’s mouth to give a damn about it.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you hiss. Taeyeon’s only response is to slip her hands from your hips to the cheeks of your ass, pulling you against her mouth, strengthening each thrust between her lips, removing any thought of pulling your cock out of her wet cavern. She lets out a wet gurgle that could have been acceptance, or permission - not that it mattered, when her swirling tongue and the tight grip on your butt told you all you needed to know.

It only takes you a few moments more before you let your orgasm overtake you, the stress and anxiety of the past hour or so finding release in thick, white semen that spurts wetly from your tip and into the back of Kim Taeyeon’s needy throat. Her throat works as fast as it can, gulping down and swallowing every rope that fills her small mouth. Her eyes remain locked on yours the whole time, even as they water slightly, even as they flinch with each spurt of semen you leave in her throat.

As your orgasm begins to subside you give her mouth a few more thrusts, grunting with each one, your body possessed of a temporary but undeniable need to watch her choke on your cum. And she does so, a wet cough leaving her mouth as the tip of your shaft hits the back of her mouth and temporarily cuts off her air supply.

You are suddenly ashamed, and afraid that you’d hurt her. But when your spent cock finally slips out of her mouth and she lets out a wet gurgle, allowing a spill of her spit and your cum to drip from the corners of her lips, the lust in the gaze that she fixes upon you is undiminished. In fact, it is only deepened, as though the taste of your cum and the roughness with which you’d given it to her had only heightened her need for more.

She rises from her knees, a slender hand with slender fingers wiping the wetness from her messy chin before bringing the slick mess to her mouth for her wet, semen-glazed tongue to lick off. Eyes never once leaving yours, she takes a few steps backwards towards the waiting office table, her black high heels echoing oddly loudly in the hangar.

The young woman leans her butt on the edge of the table before reaching up with hands and pulling the straps of her black dress down, revealing her small, round breasts and the tight, taut nipples atop each one.

She bends over at the waist to grasp the hem of her knee-length dress, giving you a generous view of her hanging breasts as she does so. Her slim fingers grasp its edge before pulling it up her body, revealing the pale, creamy skin of her thighs and the slick wet lips between them. She only stops when the dress is a mere slash of silk around her waist, more like a fancy belt than a dress.

There is no slow undressing, no teasing, seductive dance. Only a stripping of unnecessary obstacles that stood in the way between her and needs that needed to be satiated.

“Come take what’s yours,” she says, her eyes half-lidded now, every syllable of the words leaving her mouth dripping with desire.

Your body moves of its own volition, driven solely by the need to claim the reward offered to you. When you reach her your lips crash into hers in a frenzied kiss that had little passion but plenty of lust - tongues quickly find and explored mouths, teeth, and lips; hands explore shoulders, breasts, and backs; legs press torsos against torsos, hers wrapping quickly around your waist as you pick her up and deposit her upon the desk.

You tear your lips from hers - which proved more difficult than you cared to admit, the soft sweetness of her lips like a delicious dessert that was almost too decadent to finish. Your mouth moves to her neck, to her soft, round breasts and her tight, stiff nipples, latching onto the small buds with hungry lips before sucking deeply - savoring each inch of her pale, creamy skin, devouring the young woman’s body like a starving man indulging in an unexpected feast.

Taeyeon moans and sighs and gasps with every movement of your mouth and lips, every suck on her tight nipples. Her hand finds its way onto the back of your scalp, pressing you against her needy breasts, pulling you by the hair from one needy mound to the other, ensuring both of her tight, stiff peaks received the attention she needed. After a while she rips your mouth from her saliva-soaked breasts, and with a wicked glint in her eye, she pushes you down between her legs.

You go to your knees willingly, taking only a moment to drink in the sight of Taeyeon’s wet, glistening lips before diving in, indulging and feasting on her wet, slick flesh with the same hunger and need you showed to her breasts. The girl’s gasps turn into heavy moans as your tongue swipes up and down her tender lips, drinking in her taste and her juices like her body was a newly opened fruit, lapping her up, licking every drop, gorging yourself on her sweet, tender flesh.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, just the beginning of a long string of profanity and filth that begins to leave her mouth - not that you could hear most of it, as she quickly closes her warm, flushed thighs around your head, trapping you against her crotch, forcing you to finish a meal you were going to devour anyway.

Her pussy is as delicious a meal as you could have ever wanted, but you want to heighten it for her, ensure that she was being fed as much as you. And so you latch your lips around the tender, taut bud at the top of her opening before devoting tender licks of your needy tongue upon it. As her moans rise in volume and need, your fingers find her slick opening and slip inside it, building to and maintaining a steady rhythm as you thrust them in and out of her folds.

It doesn’t take long for your actions to achieve the desired effect - soon she is a writhing, squirming mess atop the desk, the wordless gasps and occasional hissed profanity muffled by the thighs pressed tightly against your ears as she wraps her legs around your head. Her fingers dig almost painfully into the back of your scalp, pressing your head against her flesh and making it difficult to breathe. 

But oxygen was a secondary concern. The wet, slick, hot flesh of the woman beneath your tongue was all that mattered. You slurp up her juices onto a thirsty tongue, savoring her bittersweet taste on your palette, before returning your lips back onto her needy clit and resuming swiping at it with firm, steady strokes.

When she orgasms she fills your mouth with even more of her delicious juices, her slick wetness flowing freely into your mouth and onto your still-thrusting fingers. She makes a mess of your face and hand. You could not have cared less. When you finally release her quivering bud from your lips and even as your fingers slip out of her satiated pussy, you lap up every drop of her juices you could find - your hunger not at all satiated, not at all satisfied.

You return to her feet to find the same look of need on her eyes. She hops up onto the desk and spreads her legs wantonly, welcoming you between them. Your stiff cock rests on a warm thigh, still streaked with her own juices.

“Fuck me now,” she hisses with a tone that was more of an order than a request. 

“Tell me you want this,” you reply, the words leaving your tongue before you knew you were speaking them. There was no doubt in your mind that she did - but you wanted to hear her say it, wanted to hear her admit it. “Tell me how you want me to treat you.”

“Treat me like a fucking whore,” she hisses in reply, eyes dark and needy. “Fuck me like a dirty litlte whore that your boss bought you.”

She spreads her legs wider. Your cock quivers with need. You grip it by the base and place it at her entrance, swirling its head around her needy clit. Her glistening lips lather the head with her slick juices. Her eyes drip with lust, mirroring the slickness of her body.

“If you want to be treated like a whore,” you hiss as you fill her tight, hot pussy for the first time, leaving her breathless, “then you’re going to be fucked like one.”

You begin fucking her, pounding her on the creaking, protesting desk. Not giving a damn about a slow building up of speed, not caring about anything other than driving yourself in and out of the young woman’s wet, slick, hot pussy at a fast and frantic pace. For her part Taeyeon seemed to welcome it, even revel in it - any initial pain and discomfort she felt was quickly overwhelmed by the welcome feeling of being filled again and again by your stiff meat.

She lets out sharp gasps with each wet meeting of your bodies, her sweet little mouth frozen in an open “O” as if each thrust of your cock into her needy pussy drove the air from her lungs. Her right hand involuntarily clenches tightly onto your left shoulder, nails digging so painfully into your skin that she might have drawn blood - not that you would have cared or even noticed. Her body tightens around you. Her pussy pulsates. Her eyes remain locked on yours.

The old desk creaks loudly with each thrust into her body as it protests the rough treatment it is being given. For a moment you fear it would give out and break, sending you both crashing to the floor. Not that you would have given a damn. You would’ve fucked the mewling, quivering young woman right on the dirty, cold floor if you needed to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me like that,” Taeyeon hisses, the filthy profanity leaving her mouth at odds with the innocence of her youthful face. “Fuck me! Harder! Fuck me as hard as you want.”

You take her words as a challenge, and to that end you grasp her behind her knees, pulling them from your hips and bending them over her torso until they are hovering just over her shoulders. You fuck her like that for a few minutes, every thrust giving her the full length of your cock from base to tip. You groan at her tightness. She moans at your size.

“Treat me… treat me like the fucking whore I am,” she snaps, the vulgarity of her words momentarily stealing your attention away from the tightness of her body. “Choke me. Slap me. Hurt me!”

You normally weren’t one to indulge in such kinks aside from relatively tame hair pulling or ass slapping, and so her demands for rougher treatment surprise you somewhat. But there was something in Kim Taeyeon that enticed you in a way other women didn’t - perhaps it was her youthful appearance, perhaps it was the fact that she was so confident and demanding about what she wanted. Perhaps it was that she knew who and what she was, and she revelled in it, enjoyed every moment of what she was hired to do.

Your hand moves - again, almost of its own volition - to grasp a bouncing, soft breast, squeezing it none-too-gently, enjoying the feel of her warm flesh in your hand and the stiffness of the nipple poking into your palm. Not breaking contact with her milky skin for a moment, your hand travels up her chest, until it closes tightly around her thin, pale throat.

A wicked smile appears at the corners of her mouth as your fingers close around her windpipe, as though she were happy to see you give in to her desires. You grunt as you pump harder into her body, feeling more and more of your self-control erode with every thrust. Her moans rise in volume until they become shrieks.

And then she slaps you hard on the cheek with an open hand.

“You fuck like a pussy,” she snaps, the words dulled somewhat by the hand clasped around her throat. You stop thrusting into her for a second. Her words sting - your pride hurt as much as the side of your reddened cheek; in your mouth you can taste the coppery twang of blood. Your fingers tighten somewhat around her neck, as though wanting to exact some measure of revenge for the pain she has inflicted.

Never in your life had you hit a woman before. But before you know it your free hand has reached up and slapped Taeyeon across the cheek.

You expect a look of pained shock to appear on her flushed cheeks. 

Instead there is only a wicked smile, as though she were proud of having made you do something you never would have done otherwise. Her hand moves to slap you in return, but you catch her by the wrist, and pin her hand down onto the table. With one hand still around her throat and the other holding down her struggling wrist, you resume fucking the helpless young woman atop the desk. You are afraid for a moment that she would slap you with her free hand, but instead it reaches up to your skull, fingers digging deeply into your skin. Soon you feel a warm liquid in your scalp, and you know she has drawn blood from you for the second time.

You are in a frenzy now, your cock slamming in and out of her body with a reckless abandon, using the young woman’s pussy like it were a toy, and object to be used for your pleasure. The pain you have caused each other only heightens each sensation, focuses it and makes it more pure, more intense.

Taeyeon not only allows it but welcomes it, if the look of sheer bliss on her face and the continued tightening and pulsating of her wet, slick tunnel is anything to go by. She squirms and quivers and writhes atop the desk, fingers digging ever deeper into your increasingly painful scalp - but your hands at her throat and wrist keep her pinned down onto it as your cock continues to nail her onto it like some obscene piece of art.

“Fuck!” she moans inbetween wordless gasps of pleasure, “Fuck, yes, own me, use me like this- fuck me like the little whore I am, fuck me like your little whore!”

Satisfied that you’d broken her, you release her throat and wrist - and she lets out a whimper of disappointment as you do so. But the whimper is soon replaced by a wicked sigh as you grasp her by the hips and pull her off the desk, before turning her around and pushing her roughly back onto it with a hand in the middle of her back.

No teasing, no build up or prelude. As soon as you are able you grasp the base of your cock with your right hand, line it up with her dripping opening, and then you are fucking Kim Taeyeon again, this time from behind, with her small, tight little body bent over the creaking desk.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps, “Fuck, you’re so big like this, fuck, you’re so big you’re stretching me out you’re filling me so much oh fuck, oh fuck oh I’m gonna, I’m close, I’m gonna-”

The string of profanity leaving her mouth is cut short abruptly when your hand grasps the back of her head - and slams it down onto the table.

“Shut up and just take my dick, Taeyeon,” you hiss as you continue to fuck her roughly into the table. “Take it like a good little whore.”

Your words, and your implicit surrender to the darker needs, seem to push her over the edge. Her pussy pulsates and quivers and tightens so much around your cock that it drives you dizzy with pleasure. Her limbs shake so violently with her orgasm that you fear she would have fallen from the table had she not been pinned to it by your hands at her head and shoulder.

Throughout it all you are fucking her into the desk, relishing in the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each entry and exit. Your hand tightens around her skull, your teeth gritting with effort as the pleasure builds in your loins, making you feel light headed and dizzy.

“Beg for it, Taeyeon,” you spit. Your pace quickens as you reach your peak, hammering hard and fast into her pussy. “Fucking beg for my cum. Beg me to cum in you. Beg for it like a good little slut. Like a good little whore.” 

“Cum in me already,” she manages to say, turning her head enough to hiss at you despite your hand still pushing her onto the table. “Fucking cum inside your dirty little whore! Fill my dirty little pussy with cum!”

Just as your words broke her, hers break you - and you bury yourself as deeply as you can inside Kim Taeyeon’s wet, hot body before you finally orgasm. Your cock pulsates as it sends thick, white cum into her pussy, your entire body jerking involuntarily with each spurt. Taeyeon moans deeply with each rope of semen that fills her, her pussy squeezing tightly around your spurting cock, welcoming each and every drop of your seed.

You keep her pressed onto the table throughout the length of your orgasm, your hands at her skull and her shoulder not loosening until your strength finally gives out with the last few ropes of cum that you manage to force from your spent, tired cock. Finally releasing her, you lean over the young woman’s body on the desk, breathing heavily, suddenly exhausted.

After a few more seconds trying to catch your breath, you eventually straighten up, enjoying one last glance at Taeyeon’s body bent over the desk, her round, full ass still pressed against your crotch. Giving her a soft smack on the ass cheek, you grasp her hips as you slowly draw your spent cock out of her body, enjoying the sight of glistening cum that quickly appears from her well-used pussy. It flows wetly down her thighs and onto the floor in thick drops, forming a small puddle between her still shaky legs.

You expect her to say something filthy, something vulgar about the mess you’d made of her body. But to your surprise she says nothing as she bites her lip slightly, shooting you a sensual, wicked smile from over her shoulder.

You begin to tuck yourself back into your pants, and she does the same, adjusting her wrinkled black dress as best she could around her body, it having been twisted around by your frenzied movements. 

For a split second, just before she pulls it back down over her hips, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo at the small of her back - one that had been covered by the dress while you were fucking. 

It is the outline of a chess piece - a queen.

As if on cue, one of the black vehicles her crew arrived in pulls into the hangar. You are momentarily alarmed, but there is nothing in Taeyeon’s movements that suggests you are in any sort of danger, so you do nothing but watch as it pulls up next to the both of you. Out of the passenger side hops Tiffany, who quickly moves to open the rear door for Taeyeon. There is no trace of the confident, brash persona the Californian had displayed not even an hour ago - she seemed more like an obedient servant now, eager to please her superior.

Taeyeon shoots you a sweet smile, her secret identity having been revealed.

You want to say something, something clever or witty in response to the little charade that you had just walked into and played an unknowing part in. 

“I hope I can call on your services again in the near future,” Taeyeon says - in a formal British accent.

Unexpected accent shift aside, her tone was clear and confident, showing no hint of the rough, wanton woman she’d been just a few moments before. There is a grace and elegance around her now - were you to ignore the wrinkled dress and slightly frazzled hair she would not have looked out of place at a fancy cocktail party. With her perfect posture and confident smile, she seemed, suddenly, more like the royalty suggested by her codename.

“I hope you do,” you answer, unable to really come up with anything else to say.

Shooting you one last smile upon soft, perfect lips, Taeyeon steps into the waiting vehicle. Tiffany closes the door behind her and hops back into the passenger seat before it speeds away, leaving you alone and speechless.

---

When you approach Ryujin’s vehicle the driver’s side window is open, a lazy trail of smoke is rising from it.

Inside, the young woman is lazily cradling a cigarette in one hand, taking a long drag from it as you open the door and sit in the passenger seat. From her undone button, lowered zipper of her pants, and her wrinkled shirt it was obvious what she was up to while you were with Taeyeon.

“It wasn’t fair that only you got that bonus,” she says, answering your unspoken question. “Besides, that hangar isn’t exactly soundproof.”

You smile slyly at her as you place the briefcase with your fees into the backseat. “When we get back to the hotel you’ll get your cut of the money.”

“I better be getting more than just money,” she answers as she tosses her cigarette butt out the window and starts up the car. “I’m charging you an additional fee for making me wait.”

“I can’t wait to pay it,” you say with a smile. Ryujin gives you a sly smile of her own before she puts the car into drive and you both screech away from the hangar.

---

Author’s Note: *preps holy water bath to cleanse himself of that filth*

Been wanting to write Taeyeon (and at least mention SNSD) for a long time, and I finally came up with an interesting scenario for it. The driver was initially going to be Seohyun but I couldn’t resist putting Ryujin in it as a cameo (and maybe as a sequel hook for part 2 lol).

Hope you all enjoyed it. Stay cool and stay safe, fellow sickdirtyfreaks!

[choptop-sawyer]

Ok, honestly and without romanticising, how do you think would it go if one lf the Sawyer boys fell in love with a victim? Like, would they kidnap them but convince the rest of the family not to kill them? How would the others react, would we get more of " ____'s got a girl/boyfriend"? It's just a question that has been bugging me for quite a while, as most of them don't really encounter any people outside the family, with the exception of victims.

Sincerely, the anon who thirsted over your icon

Hello icon thirst anon!!! Ohhhh... this ask has so much potential. I love digging into more realistic interpretations of the Sawyers. Of course, there's always going to be an element of unreality with scenarios where you end up with one of them. But close as possible to the source material, I mean.

But what source material? TCM 1 and 2 are obviously the superior movies (for me) and the best of the Sawyers are in them. No extended family or some shit, I can stomach a twin of Nubbins, especially since he's so fun. But they both have extremely different vibes, and different characterizations of the Sawyers. (Except Nubbins. RIP man).

It also, obviously, depends on the Sawyer.

Um... anyway. Sorry for going on too long. Under the cut.

TW: Canon Typical mentions of violence, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

With Bubba, if we're going TCM 1 wise, I hope you're good at running. The only likely way he's going to meet you is as a victim, and if he meets you on your own at first? He's going to do his job, no matter how attractive you might be to him. Leatherface won't even acknowledge you as more than meat if you're in his sights. Run. And run fast. There's almost no chance Bubba would fall for you with the saw in his hands.

Now, if you were brought back as a VICTIM by another brother, then you have a chance. Bubba has time to see you as a "guest" for a while rather than simply meat. But your time window is limited. Once the others get tired of you, you're meat again. Most likely, Bubba would be attracted to your appearance right away. But that wouldn't be enough to save you, you could easily be another mask. The key is, the thing that would give you the highest chance of survival and a relationship, is to not scream. To not flinch away from his touch when he pets your head. Maybe even say some nice words to him.

Then, there's something that would be gone if you were butchered. That's how you get Bubba invested.

If we're going with the most non romanticized version, you'd still die. Bubba's desires never mattered much anyway to the rest, because he really never expresses it out of subservience. But... if there is something worked out, you'd be his pet of sorts. Drayton would be completely disinterested unless it affects him or the finances. Nubbins might poke at you for a while, then leave you alone once you become a normal thing. What business of it is theirs?

Bubba is the one who tries the most to love you. It might not even be love, at the beginning. More a fascination. But I do believe that he'd care the most. Being with him, I think, would feel the... most gentle? Idk. He wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose if you're in that situation.

Nubbins is hard to nail down, character wise. All of the Sawyers are pretty mysterious, but he's really up there in mysteriousness to the viewer. Franklin thought him an omen, the others thought him a freak, and the audience sees what the audience sees, but no one really knows for sure.

I imagine it would be like a mirage, meeting him. He definitely meets at least a few strangers, with his hitchhiking. You'd either be kind (or foolish enough) to pick him up, or if you were a local, you'd meet him in the endless expanses, terrible and shimmering in the heat. Maybe he'd be quiet at first, stammering out answers with a small smile, like he's trying to remember his lines, but if you excite him in some way, you're in for it.

It would probably just strike him out of the blue that he likes you, and he wouldn't waste any time. He's not really scheming and mischievous, despite his impression. He rolls with whatever he feels. Extremely realistically, you'd get hurt in some way. Possibly really badly. But if you were to be his S/O, it's gonna be a kidnapping. (You might be able to overpower him though. Twig.)

He wouldn't keep you in the house. He might not even think to introduce you to Drayton, because Drayton would be very displeased. But luckily, there's quite a few secret places he's found in his explorations. He might take you there.

It would be very odd. Once the initial terror wears down, you'd realize that Nubbins is a raw and open wound. Repulsive, but honest. He doesn't quite belong anywhere. You think he hoped you'd belong to him, and him to you. The only way out is to be locked in a death grip. I don't think it'd last very long.

The second movie' wacky atmosphere fits Chop Top very well, but we still don't know much about the details of his life. We know the backstory, that he listens to the radio every night, and that he has a love for music and smashing skulls. You could meet him anywhere, as long as you aren't looking for him. He seems to be the kind of guy who was everywhere wherever he was, at least once. If he invites you back to his place after some flirtations traded, don't accept. That would probably mean death for you, not at the hands of a regal and somber grim reaper, but the kind of death that not many wish to think about. He'll come back to the same place to see you again, if he likes you enough. And maybe, he'll even ask you out for real. Chop Top likes the idea of being in a relationship, because all the songs on the radio were written about it. He wants to live them. And you... you're perfect.

If he really cares for you, he'd keep you a secret from his family. There's two lives he leads, the one formed by radio and wild living, and the other formed by the tight, insular environment of his childhood. Chop Top might whisper about you to corpse Nubbins, giggling as he recounts how good-looking you are, and ain't he lucky? But that's it, unless you're foolish. If you get to curious well... he'll invite you to dinner. It's sink or swim then. Good luck.

Drayton is the least likely to find someone he cares enough about not to kill. He's thinking of self-preservation above all, and an S/O complicates too many things. But you'd have to be a local, he doesn't trust strangers. He's loathe to introduce you to his family though. As important as they are in how much they define his very life, they would throw off too many red flags.

He might try to deny his attraction to you at first, as a consequence. But if you won him over, he'd hide the Sawyer's "special diet" as well as he could. Drayton is used to painting over everything, throwing a rug over the mess. When you go to the house? Bone furniture has to be stashed away, hide the meat hooks, hide the horrors, hide away the brothers.

The twins would probably find out somehow, and mercilessly tease him. He feels shameful, somehow, when they do, and that makes him angry. He feels, deep down, that he's betraying the way of life. Don't expect much.

(Sorry if this was rambly)

[faistfics]

part 2!

riff x latina!oc

word count: 2.7k

plot summary: When Valentina leaves Isabella in charge of the diner for the day, she receives some unexpected company…

I wake up to find Tony is already gone. The sun is shining through the little window in our room. I turn off the alarm clock and stretch. Today is my first day of work. I get out of bed and rummage through my suitcase before I decide on an outfit. Nothing too special, just a plain white blouse to go underneath my apron. I brush my teeth and comb out my hair before I throw on my clothes and head up the stairs. Today is a big day. In one week, I start classes. I need to find another job by then, because at this rate I won’t be making nearly enough. Maybe I could ask Tony, I wouldn’t really want my grandmother to know I’m hunting for a second job, she might get suspicious. I tie an apron around my waist and before I walk out from the hallway, I notice Tony’s sitting there at the counter, but he isn’t alone. Sitting next to him on one of the bar stools is Riff. They appear to be arguing.

‘’Come on, man. You acted like a complete idiot last night. If you want me to show up tonight, or at all, for that matter, you’re going to have to apologize to her.’’ Tony’s saying. I continue to quietly listen in on their conversation.

‘’Tony, you of all people know apologies ain’t my thing. Now, I know she’s your girl or whatever and for that reason I’ll respect her from now on, but-‘’

‘’She’s not my girl, Riff. And even if she was, you shouldn’t respect her just because she’s my girl, you should respect her because that’s how it should be. She’s just like you and me, Riff, she deserves respect no matter what.’’ Tony says firmly and a small smile tugs at my lips.

‘’See, you can’t go around saying things like that, Tony. She ain’t like you and me and that’s the problem, but hey, believe whatever you wanna believe but you know I ain’t ever done apologies and I ain’t gonna start now. But I’ll leave the girl be, if you say so.’’ Riff says, while getting up to leave. ‘’And you know, we don’t need you tonight, anyway.’’ And with that, he walks out the door.

I see that as my que to step in. ‘’What’s going on tonight?’’ I ask, earning Tony’s attention. He stares at me for a moment.

‘’Oh, you heard all that?’’ He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

‘’Just that last part,’’ I lie, stepping behind the counter and tending to the register.

‘’Nothing you should worry about.’’ He says shortly and joins me behind the counter.

I want to ask him more questions but it’s at that moment that Valentina comes in through the door.

‘’Isabella, good, you’re awake! Starting your first day not a minute too late, that’s wonderful, mija!’’ Valentina chimes and I smile at her.

‘’Yes, everything’s going well.’’ I assure her.

‘’I’m sure it is. Which is why, I’m leaving you in charge, today. See, Tony and I need to make a trip out of town today, it’s very important and we won’t be back until tomorrow.’’ She says and I take a moment to process her words.

‘’You’re leaving me alone? On my first day?’’ I ask.

‘’Yes, mi niña, I trust you. Think of this as a way to prove to me you are responsible. I wish it could be any other day, but we need to get this done today.’’ She says, giving Tony a knowing look.

I stare between the two of them, not sure what they’re up to.

‘’Come on, Tony.’’ Valentina says and heads for the door.

‘’Where is it you’re going?’’ I ask, as Tony takes his apron off.

‘’Maybe I’ll explain when we get back.’’ He replies and tosses me the key. ‘’Lock up at 10, okay?’’

I nod and the two of them exit the diner. I can’t help but wonder where they’re off too, but I’m more curious to know what’s going on tonight and why Riff needed Tony to be there so badly.

The hours slip by and only a few customers walk in throughout the day. I find myself bored and tired, but the job isn’t too hard. I lock up by 10 and finish cleaning the tables and sorting out the cash register. Some more time passes and I get ready to take out the trash. I remember there are some dumpsters behind the building and make my way out through the backdoor. Outside, it’s dark but there’s a flickering streetlight just by the dumpsters. I feel a slight breeze and hurry to toss the trashbag away. That’s when I hear it. A groan. It seems to be coming from the corner and I’m not sure wether or not I imagined it. But, before I have time to decide there it is again. Someone’s here and they sound in pain. I take a few cautious steps toward the sound. Maybe I should just go back inside. But what if someone’s hurt? If it were me or somebody I cared about I know I’d want someone to help. I peak behind the corner and there, lying against the brick wall, is Riff. I gasp when I see the wound in his side. He’s placed his hand over it and he looks terrible. All pale and beat up. I notice the few bruises on his face when he turns his head to look at me.

‘’Hey, señorita, it’s you.’’ He says weakly. ‘’Listen, I’d love to dance, but I’m kinda busy right now.’’ He mumbles and I don’t even know how to react.

‘’Unbelievable,’’ I say, ‘’you’re fatally wounded with only me around to help you and you still have the nerve to make stupid comments?’’

He presents a half smile and looks up at me. No fear whatsoever is visible in his eyes. It’s almost as if wether he lives or dies is completely irrelevant to him.

‘’I don’t need your help.’’ He states.

I roll my eyes. I’d love nothing more than to just walk away from him right now, but of course I’m not going to do that. It doesn’t matter who he is. No one deserves to die alone behind a dumpster. Not even Riff. Not if I can help it.

I put on a brave face before kneeling down next to him.

‘’Listen, I know you don’t like me and I sure as hell don’t like you, but neither of us wants you to die, so I’m going to help you.’’

‘’it’s all the same to me,’’ he mutters.

‘’Are you really going to make this harder than it is?’’ I ask, staring at him with a sort of urgency in my eyes.

‘’Do your worst.’’ He says, surrendering.

I begin to think of what I know about things like this. Valentina must have a first aid kit and probably a few other things in the shop, so I pull Riff up and hear him groaning as he gets on his feet.

‘’Come on, you need to walk to the door.’’ I say, struggling to carry his weight.

‘’You’re really doing this, huh?’’ He asks and I can’t believe he still has it in him to act smart.

I turn to him and find myself staring at him almost pleadingly, something which I can’t help, but I feel very urged to help him. I think about if it was one of my brothers and I know I would pray for someone to care enough and do something.

‘’Riff, please.’’ I say slowly.

He looks up at me, eyes tired and heavy.

‘’Please.’’ I repeat, hearing my voice cracking and biting my lip to stop the tears that are welling up in my eyes. I don’t even know if I can save him, but I need to at least try. What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t at least try?

He keeps looking at me and his expression seems to soften for a brief moment until I feel but him lifting his weight and begin to limp against me. He doesn’t say a word. We somehow make our way to the door and down the stairs. I lay him down on the bed and immidiately take a look at the wound. In order to do that, I instruct him to lift his shirt. The cut is just above his torso, next to some stupid tattoo I don’t bother to wonder about. He flinches when my fingers graze over his bare skin, as I’m trying to determine the severity of the wound.

‘’You really don’t gotta do this.’’ He goes on and I sigh.

‘’So what exactly is the plan, then? Just let you bleed to death in my bedroom?’’ I ask, grabbing a cloth and dousing it with disinfectant alcohol.

‘’Hey, you’re the one who brought me to your bedroom.’’

‘’Exactly. I brought you here so that I could help you.’’ I say and begin cleaning the wound.

I shake my head, trying to clean as much as I can.

‘’I need you to take your shirt off.’’ I say, as it’s getting in my way.

He smiles stupidly. ‘’Well, I ain’t gonna say no to that.’’

‘’Oh Dios mío’’ I say under my breath as he takes the shirt off, revealing a few more tattoos and some scars. He inhales sharply as I get back to work on the wound. It isn’t deep, it seems as if somebody only grazed him a bit.

‘’Who did this to you?’’ I ask, wondering what he could’ve possibly been doing tonight and thinking back to this morning when he had asked Tony to join.

‘’You wouldn’t know him.’’ He stated shortly.

‘’Well, what happened?’’ I press, wanting to know.

‘’Where’s Tony tonight?’’ He asks intentionally.

‘’He’s out of town.’’ I reply, applying pressure to the wound which results in him seething in pain and his hand flying over my own where the wound is.

‘’Easy.’’ He warns and I almost laugh.

‘’Don’t be such a baby,’’ I say, throwing the cloth away. ‘’Sit back.’’ I instruct.

He looks annoyed but obliges. ‘’So, why’s Tony out of town?’’

‘’I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.’’ I say and begin pulling out the bandages.

‘’He didn’t tell you? Don’t he know keeping secrets in a relationship ain’t no good?’’

‘’Good thing we’re not in a relationship.’’ I remind him.

‘’Right. Tony sure is one dumb son-of-a-bitch for not trying it with you. Hey, you two sleep in here together?’’ He says, before coughing a bit.

‘’Tony’s not like that.’’ I simply say, before getting down on my knees so that I can wrap the bandage around him.

‘’All guys are like that, sweetheart.’’ He says.

I stare at him, before tightening the bandage.

‘’No, Riff,’’ I say, ‘’not all guys are as disrespectful and ill-mannered as you are.’’

‘’Ouch. I’m hurt that you think that.’’ He puts his hand over his heart. ‘’In fact, I always wait for the girl to make the first move.’’ He says, leaning in a bit closer to me, that stupid smile not leaving his face.

‘’Oh, I’m sure you do.’’ I say, tightening the bandage one last time, before finishing up.

‘’Yeah, which is why I’m wondering what’s taking you so long, señorita.’’ He says and I raise my eyebrows at him because he can’t be serious.

‘’You’re funny.’’ I say.

‘’I can be a lot more than just funny. I can be whatever you want me to be.’’ He says and this time I laugh.

‘’Oh, please! Will you stop with the stupid lines? Just say something real for once.’’ I say, turning to put the bandages back in the first aid kit.

‘’Real, huh?’’ I hear him say behind me. ‘’I don’t think you’d like the real me.’’

‘’Ay, there you go again! Cliché after cliché.’’ I continue teasing.

‘’Fine, you want real, I’ll tell you where I was, tonight. I was in a fight. With people like you. Puerto Ricans. And one of ‘em got me really good, as you can see.’’ He says.

I stare at him, not knowing what to say.

‘’There was supposed to be a rumble, tonight. I wanted Tony to be there, too. But while I was on my way, some of those Sharks caught me off guard, without my guys, and they just jumped me.’’

I listen to him as he goes on.

‘’See, for me, this whole rivalry is more about territory than it is about anything else.’’ He says. ‘’You know I wake up to everything I know either being sold, or wrecked, or being taken over by people that I don’t like. And they don’t like me.’’

I continue to watch him silently as he talks. That was as real as I could hope for.

He looks at me and for the first time I think he’s really looking at me. No stupid smile or smirk or dumb comment coming out of his mouth.

‘’And then there’s you.’’ He says. ‘’You see me lying in the street, good for nothing, nobody’d care if I was gone, and, without a second thought, you help me. After everything you heard about me. After what I said about your people and how I feel about the world, you still helped me. That ain’t something I was planning on. Now, what do I do with that?’’ His voice has somehow softened and he’s waiting for me to answer him now.

‘’See, you stop speaking like an idiot and for a minute there I may have even liked you.’’ I say and the stupid smile is back. But this time it’s warmer. Or maybe I’m just imagining things.

‘’You liked me, huh?’’ He’s smiling with his teeth now and I can’t look away. He has a nice smile.

‘’Don’t let it get to your head.’’ I can’t help but return the smile. He stares into my eyes, as if searching for something in them.

‘’You should get some rest. I’ll wake you up tomorrow before Tony and Valentina get back.’’ I tell him, breaking the tension by moving to get up. I feel his hand wrap around my wrist and he holds me back.

‘’You’re not staying?’’ There’s a hint of trouble in his voice. Like he’s daring me to.

‘’No.’’ I say, fighting back another smile.

‘’Why not?’’ He almost whines.

I think about it. Why not? Sure, Riff was an asshole and there’s not really any good reason I should stay with him tonight, but then again it’s not like I haven’t been with guys who are assholes before and I was in America now, why not have a little fun?

I shook my head.

‘’Riff, I know you think that us Latina girls will just sleep with anyone and even if that were true, I still wouldn’t want to do it with you.’’ I say, turning back around to face him fully.

‘’Damn,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘’Listen, I’m sorry for saying that last night, okay? It was out of line.’’ He says softly and if I didn’t know any better I’d think it even sounded genuine.

I almost can’t believe what I just heard him say. He’s sorry? That must be a first for him.

‘’Well, that’s nice, but I still stand by what I said.’’

‘’Hey, I didn’t say nothing about fooling around, all I want is you to say down here with me. Sit by the bed ’til I fall asleep?’’ He says it like a little kid.

I roll my eyes, but ultimately find no harm in doing what he says. As soon as I sit on the bed by him, he rests his head in my lap. Before I can object, he begins talking again.

‘’You know, this is how my ‘ma used to get me to sleep when I was little. There wasn’t no way I could fall asleep without her.’’ His words take me by surprise. I don’t say anything back, instead, I rest my hand on top of his head gently.

’’She used to sing to me, you know?’’ He tells me and a small smile escapes my lips.

‘’Ay, alright. I’ll sing for you, Riff.’’ I say, before beginning to sing a calm tune. It’s a lullaby in Spanish that Valentina used to sing to me when I was a little girl.

‘’Buenas noches mi amor

Cierra bien tus ojitos

Que la noche viene ya

Su canción te arrullará…’’

(‘’Goodnight My Love

Close your eyes well

The the night is coming

Her song will lull you…’’)

I begin to stroke his hair slowly and continue singing to him, noticing his breathing getting heavier and feeling how he has relaxed in my arms. He’s asleep.

*

hey everyone, here is part 2 as promised! i’m glad ya’ll are liking the story!! let me know if you want to be tagged in updates and thanks for reading:)

part 3:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Here’s part two and things are getting aggressive fast.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: Either it'll move me

💀💀💀

Usually your work kept you busy and if you were busy, you were content. Not that day. Not since that man ruined your lunch. You were so worked up that when you got back to the garage, you didn’t even finish your sandwich. You barely got anything done as what you did had to be redone in your distraction.

The night was little better as you planned to get the car done so the next time Loki bothered you, you could tell him to fuck off. If his headlight did come in before he left town, you’d send it down to Carl’s to have the work done. You would take the cost from what Bucky gave you to cover your time.

You were on your second coffee by the time you headed down to the garage, your apartment conveniently above as your existence was relegated to that single lot in Birch. At the bottom step you paused as you sipped from the travel mug and listened to the unexpected noise from behind the black door.

You locked all the doors at night, even that between the entryway and the garage that you kept propped open during the day. You stepped closer and tested the handle and bent to examine the lock. You glanced over at the painted front door and found that both had been picked.

Your fingers tightened on the mug. The last person to break into your garage, well, they weren’t around to bother you anymore after Jerome found out. You swung the door open and hauled the hot coffee across the garage towards the only sign of movement.

Loki sidestepped the splash, a few drops along his dark jacket, and continued to tighten and untighten the wrench. He looked at you nonchalantly and his mouth slanted. He shook his head as he let the tool hang perilously from his hand.

“Is this how you treat all your customers? This ungainly assault,” he peered down at the overturned cup beside his car.

“What the fuck are you doing in my garage?” you huffed as you marched over to him and reached for the wrench.

He gripped it tighter as you tried to snatch it from him and held you close as he sneered down at you.

“Two days,” he said “correct?”

“Tomorrow by my count,” you rebuked and pulled harder on the wrench, “not that it gives you any right to break into my garage and touch my stuff.” He let you yank the metal free of your grasp and you pointed it at his chin, “so leave or this time I won’t miss.”

He chuckled, barely bothered by the tool pointed at him as his green eyes sparkled, “your count is incorrect. I might be early but your work is due this evening so I will wait.”

“Not here,” you waved the wrench at him and grabbed his arm, “so get out and come back later then.”

His hand covered yours and he pried your fingers from him. He twisted your hand back and you gasped and swung the wrench with your other. You hit his shoulder as he raised his arm in defense and grunted at the sharp impact. He let you go and you swung again. He dodged and shoved you away from him.

“Do not presume to put your hands on me,” he warned, “you know who my brother is, that I associate with your cute local chapter--”

“I’m not one of them and I don’t report to them,” you snarled, “so get out now or you won’t be associating with anyone.”

“Mouthy little bitch,” he slithered, “you touch me again, or even attempt it--”

“I said get out,” you hit the hood of his car and left a dent, “It’ll be another day at least.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He fixed his jacket and sighed. He raised his chin and stiffly strode across the garage and through the black door. You followed feet behind him and made sure he continued outside. You cranked the lock behind him and listened to his footsteps crunch through the snow.

You might not report to Bucky and his goons but he was going to keep the rabble in line.

💀

It was just after noon but you knew Bucky would already be at The Asp. You ventured down the street in your heavy boots, your jacket flapping open in the wind as you were set on your destination and the conversation that awaited you. You nodded at the man who leaned a few feet from the door and sucked on a cigarette.

You entered and shook the snow off your lined denim jacket and kicked off your boots. You looked around at the mostly empty bar. You rarely went there as it was more trouble than you needed. The men were drunk and dirty and like many places in Birch, you just didn’t fit. You didn’t want to fit.

Bucky sat at his usual table, a woman you recognized beside him. She had been a year or two ahead of you in school and a couple behind Bucky himself. You knew she was his new girl but she never really looked happy about it. Knowing him, it didn’t surprise you. He always wanted more than he got.

You crossed to him and stood in front of the round table as his right-hand thug watched you curiously. You raised a brow at Steve and focused on the boss.

“We need to talk,” you said plainly.

“We do?” he asked genuinely confused, “I owe you something?”

“You do and you don’t. I’m not here about money,” you replied, “but it’s important.”

“Alright,” he pointed to the chair in front of you and gestured to his companions, planting a kiss on the woman’s lips before she stood, her lips slightly curled at the corner, and left you. He shifted in his chair as they went and nodded when he was ready, “sorry, if I knew you were on your way, I would’ve kept her in the back.”

You scoffed and shook your head. He was always obtusely arrogant. “I stopped fucking you, Buck, I don’t care who you’re with now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he inhaled and placed his hand against the table, “so what is it?”

“This guy, Loki,” you began, “brought his car to me two nights ago.”

“Mhmm, I sent him down. I know I should come down myself but--”

“Please, you hate going down there,” you waved his words away, “it’s not about the car, it’s about him.”

“What about him?”

“He broke into my shop this morning. There was… well, I got a few licks in and for the sake of you I’ve held back but you need to keep him away from me. I’ll fix his car but I’m not dealing with him anymore. He’s a pompous asshole who thinks he can just do whatever he wants.” You stopped yourself, usually not one to go on at length, “he’s your… associate, as he would say it, so he can deal with you, not me.”

He considered you and pulled his hand back to scratch the stubble along his jaw. His blue eyes were intrigued if not surprised.

“He… coming onto you?” he asked.

“No,” you blinked at him dully, “no, he’s just annoying me. You promised me the shop would be my space. He picked my locks, Buck, so you let him know what’s what.”

“He’s new in town,” Bucky sighed, “but I’ll talk to him.”

“You better,” you stood, “because I don’t care about whatever business you got going on, the next time, I’m gonna pop his eye out with a--”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snipped, “I’ll take care of him, alright?”

“You better,” you said as you backed away, “or you can find someone else to fix up your bikes.”

“Really? You know it won’t come to that,” he sat forward in irritation, “go, he won’t bother you.”

💀

The next day you looked over the front of the car. Aside from the cracked headlight, it was as good as new. You rolled up the garage door and took the keys from the hook. You drove the car out and steered it along the snowy street and parked just outside The Asp. You got out and headed inside to hand off the keys to Bucky with a promise that you would take care of the light when it came in as long as he kept Loki away.

You returned to the garage to close the door and checked the time. You were overdue for lunch and hadn’t been back to The Chipped Saucer since that eventful day. You were hungry and too lazy to climb up to your apartment and dig through your fridge. 

You crossed the street and entered the diner as Kimmie looked up from the harlequin novel she hid behind as she stood by the till. She marked her page and closed it before she grabbed the carafe from the machine and crossed to your table. She poured you a mug and confirmed your usual order.

There were a few of the older residents enjoying pie and coffee at the other tables but the snow still kept many in their own houses. You might try the strawberry rhubarb before you went. You didn’t indulge in sweets often but it smelled good.

Kimmie brought your sandwich and as you finished the first triangle, you were disturbed by the last voice you wanted to hear. You didn’t look back as the door chimed behind the new patron and you continued chewing as you once more reviewed the newsletter. 

To your chagrin but not unexpectedly, the figure appeared at your table side. You bit into the next portion of your club sandwich and ignored him.

“Hello, darling,” Loki sat across from you as he had days before, “I saw that you attended to my vehicle at last. Fine work, I must say. I do hope the headlight arrives soon.”

You said nothing and kept eating as you looked out the window and slid the newsletter aside with your other hand. You took the last gulp of your coffee and swallowed. You raised your cup and looked around, “‘scuse me,” you called out, “when you have a second.”

He laughed to himself and you felt his gaze on you. You pushed aside your uneaten crust and went about your meal as if he wasn’t there. When Kimmie refilled your coffee, he ordered a tea and a bowl of the daily soup. 

You barely withheld your grimace as you watched Babs across the street by her bakery. She dusted snow off the open sign before she retreated back inside.

“I’m pleasantly surprised by the food here,” he mused as he stirred a plume of milk into his tea.

“Can’t you take a hint?” you snapped, “I don’t want you near me.”

“Believe me, at first, the feeling was mutual, darling,” he said.

“I told you not to call me that,” you frowned at him directly and he smirked.

“I like the way it makes your eyes go,” he taunted, “admittedly, that first meeting I would’ve liked nothing other than to never encounter you again but the more I poke and prod you, the more intrigued I am.”

“If you don’t stop--”

“You’ll go back to Barnes, hmm?” he intoned, “yes, he did speak with me but I might enlighten you on one fact. The man requires my business more than a mechanic, especially as there seems to be healthy competition in town.”

“You have your car, you’ll have the headlight done, and you can be on your way out of town,” you growled, “and you can be far away from me. Whatever stupid game you’re playing at, I’m not biting. I meant it when I said I won’t miss--”

“Darling, this is not an invitation,” his eyes strayed from your face for just a moment and he considered the buttons of your flannel shirt, “a man like me doesn’t ask, he expects.”

Your eyes rolled so hard it hurt. You pushed your plate away and pulled out your wallet. You left your tab on the table and stood. You shrugged into your jacket and glanced out the window at the white main street.

“Whatever you expect, it’s not going to happen,” you rebuffed, “but I told you what you can expect if you come around me again.”

You left as you had days before and stormed across the street without looking. You dodged out of the way of a slow rolling Ford as it honked and you waved them off. You stomped up to the front of your shop and realised too late you were being followed.

You spun around at the door to face Loki as he slid to a stop. He grabbed your arm and drew you back from the painted wood. You hit his chest and he barely flinched as he flicked your chin with his finger.

“Oh, darling, let’s not drag this out, I do love that temper--”

“Get off--” you pushed him and he nearly slipped and took you down with him as his leather soles held no traction on the frozen ground.

He threw you back and you hit the corner of the doorframe and gasped out as it forced the air from you. 

“I promise you, it won’t last. I will damp out that flame and bask in the smoke,” he neared again and you kicked out. He fell to his knees as the force of it had you on your ass. 

You crawled away from the wall as he tried to stand and you grabbed onto his leg and pulled him back down. He slid back to his kneeS and gripped the collar of your coat. You hooked your arm around his neck and he jabbed your stomach, not as hard as he could, but a warning.

You brought your other arm up as you struggled to get a foothold and you managed to push you both back. You fell in tandem into the snow, your arms locked as he forced his fingers under them to keep them from snaking tighter. He was strong and you knew you could only do so much. You had to keep him on the ground.

He elbowed your ribs and you released him sharply. You rolled away from him as you panted and scrambled on your hands and knees. The frigid snow seeped through your jeans and burned your palms. You heard him behind you and you turned as you climbed to your feet unsteadily.

He was half-keeled as he got his feet set and his dark hair hung over his forehead as he glared through the strands. He stood straight and pushed back the mess of tangles and you faced him, ready for another brawl.

“Oh, this will be fun, darling,” he brushed the powder from his suit and his cheek twitched, “You needn’t worry about Barnes, you should be more worried about me.”

He puffed out a breath and spun swiftly, nearly slipping again on the icy walk. He headed back down to the street and you saw the tension between his shoulders as he pulled his jacket straight. He hurried across the road and you turned back to the garage.

It was a brief retreat, a chance to plot, you knew that much. You only had to outlast him and if you were anything, it was stubborn.

[hxseok-honee]

blossom || part 20

blossom [part 20] || "Closure..."

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : welcome to another 'is this a hobi chapter or is this a yoongi chapter' chapter!!!

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When Y/n leaves Gryffindor common room, her bottom lip is quivering. She’s not sure why, and she’s definitely not sure what to do about it. So she just walks. She doesn’t make the active choice to head in a certain direction, but before she knows it she’s heading downstairs toward the kitchens — she only realizes that she’d been walking to Hoseok when she turns the corner toward Hufflepuff common room and finds him there, sitting in the corridor, exactly where he said he’d be.

He looks up when he hears her shoes on the cement, his face lighting up when he sees that it’s her.

“Y/n! I was wondering if you were gonna come find me. That’s actually the reason I told you where I was-- wait, what’s wrong?” The excited rambling dies in his throat when he looks up at her properly and sees her face -- the loss in her eyes, the way she’s pursing her lips to stop them from shaking. She looks so unbelievably sad, but it clearly hasn’t registered in her own mind that she is, because she’s looking at him in confusion now.

“What do you mean?” Assessing the situation in the split-second way only someone as observant as him could, Hoseok pats the ground beside him, deciding not to be so up-front about his concerns. She settles onto the cold ground, scooting in close to press her side against his, seeking warmth. He says nothing about it, but he’s grateful -- it gets cold in the corridors in winter, and he likes the feelings she gives him when she’s close more than he’d care to admit.

“Did something happen today?” He asks while he’s looping a flower through the twine and taping it down, the same one he’d been working on when she’d arrived. When she doesn’t respond right away, he glances over at her, taking in the faraway look in her eyes -- and then he leaves her be. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

“I talked to Jungkook tonight… we just finished talking, actually.” Hoseok isn’t sure why he’s tensing -- whether it’s because he’s worried about how she’s doing or whether Jungkook had said something to upset her. Or maybe it’s because of the little irrational voice in the back of his head telling him that somehow, Jungkook had convinced her to get back together with him. The idea of that makes him vaguely nauseous, but he does his best not to show it when he responds.

“Oh… How did it go?” He can see her nodding slowly out of the corner of his eye, meaning that it went well.

“He apologized. Said he would leave me alone and do his best to work on himself before trying to be my friend again… I guess he really wants to do things the right way this time… So that’s good…” Hoseok doesn’t say anything, staring at the ground in front of them as he waits for something else from her, any indication of how she’s feeling because all she’s done so far is give an objective retelling of the conversation. But she doesn’t speak again, so he turns to her slowly, suddenly apprehensive.

“Are you okay?” Blinking rapidly until she’s able to focus on Hoseok again, she nods, turning to him with a small smile.

“I’m okay, Hobi… relieved… sad… but okay.” He feels glad that she trusts him enough to tell him that she’s upset, but he’s not sure how to help. So he sets the unfinished flower crown on the floor in front of him, reaching over and pulling her hand into his lap so he can interlock his fingers with hers. He doesn’t say anything -- he’s not sure why she’s sad, but he knows there has to be a really good reason for her to not be overwhelmed by the happiness of finally having gotten the closure she needed--

“Closure…” He whispers to himself, realizing with a small shake of his head that he’d taken too long to put it together. Y/n looks up at him from where she’s just rested her head on his shoulder, wondering where his thoughts have gone. He squeezes her hand, meeting her eyes with a small smile. “It’s the closure… isn’t it?”

Y/n frowns, unsure what he’s getting at. And then she thinks about it -- the amount of time she’d spent being annoyed with Jungkook for not letting her have exactly that. The summer spent crying over him and then deciding that she needed to be over him by the time school started again, never giving herself a chance to reach her own form of acceptance. Closure’s exactly what she’d needed this whole time, and months later, she’s got it at last. But for some reason, knowing that she and Jungkook are finally done -- knowing that now they needed to work on their friendship more than anything — it brings her a sense of incredible loss, like finally tossing the key to the door she’d locked up so long ago and moving on from it for good.

She eventually nods, laying her head against Hoseok’s shoulder again. She doesn’t want to say more, still trying to work through her own emotions, but she knows he won’t mind -- he’s always known what she needs without her saying it aloud. But she wants to make sure he knows that she’s fully aware of him, that he’s not just the boy she runs to when she’s an emotional wreck. Because it’s starting to worry her, and she would hate for him to think that about their relationship.

Hoseok seems like a really good guy. I hope he makes you happy.

The memory of Jungkook’s text shakes her, and her stomach’s alight with nerves when she realizes that, yeah, Hoseok does make her happy. Even when he thinks he’s not doing anything at all, he’s making her happier than she’d felt in a long time. He makes her happy even when she doesn’t realize that happy’s the one thing she’s been longing for.

“Thank you, Hobi. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” Hoseok stills when she whispers it, never lifting her head from his shoulder. He almost feels like he imagined it. But she’s pulling away from him now, craning her neck so she can find his eyes. He turns to her, too, eyes wide and a breathless laugh of disbelief leaving him.

“But I didn’t do anything…” She smiles then, having known he’d say that.

“You’re perfect as you are. Right next to me like this.” It makes her nervous, saying something like that to his face, but she means it. Because Jung Hoseok never believes he’s enough, even if he hides it well. And she needs him to know that he’s not just enough -- he’s perfect. To her, he’s perfect.

Apparently, saying it so blatantly like that has sent a shock through him, because his eyes are blown wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open. She thinks maybe she’s gone too far, but she can also see that his ears are turning red the longer he looks at her, his cheeks coloring in the same way soon after.

“I-- no one’s ever…” He trails off, nowhere near done with his thought but unable to get the rest of the words out. No one’s ever thought of me as important. The way Y/n’s looking at him, he knows that she’s aware of where his thoughts had gone, that she can see him even when he’s hiding. It’s scary, being vulnerable to someone the way he is right now. But he can’t say he would have it any other way, not if it’s her that’s seeing right through him.

“Y/n… I think… I think I--” I think I have feelings for you. It should have been so easy to say -- he almost has all the words out, he just has to finish saying them. But he can’t. Because he’d already told her the kiss had meant nothing. He’d already told her they could keep going as they are now. That nothing had to change. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their friendship, not when things between her and her ex were so precarious. He’d been too happy beside her like he is now, and he hadn’t been willing to risk it. But now he wishes he had. And he has no idea, but she wishes he had, too.

Before he can gather the courage to start again -- to say it again, clearly this time -- her phone is buzzing, Yoongi’s face and contact lighting up the screen when she pulls it out of her pocket. Hoseok swallows whatever awkward confession he’d been about to make, watching as Y/n frowns at her phone.

She’d texted him over an hour ago, and when he hadn’t responded right away, she’d just assumed he was in the midst of his usual nighttime business -- there’s no way he could already be done. It’s not even 11pm yet. Lifting the phone to her ear, she answers with confusion.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice is calm, and she can tell he’s aiming to keep it that way, but his breathlessness is coming through the speaker against his will.

“Uh… by Hufflepuff -- why?” She hears him sigh, a huff of irritation that’s somehow also him trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I came all the way to Gryffindor Tower for nothing? So many fucking stairs--” He cuts off again, and she can hear his feet hitting the ground in quick succession, so she knows he’s running. He keeps talking, but it’s mostly to himself. “Fucking magical moving staircase, never where I need it when I need it most-- your text was really vague. You good?” Y/n blinks, not having expected to be addressed so suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine--”

“Liar.” Y/n scoffs, not appreciating his tone.

“Then why ask if you already know, hm?” He chuckles deeply, knowing he’s pissed her off.

“I always like to check if you’ll be honest with me when I ask. You never are.”

“Then stop asking!” Hoseok looks to her then, eyebrows hiding behind his fringe as he watches her expression turn to empty rage. She’s annoyed, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll last. In fact, it’s already gone, because at the end of the corridor, Yoongi’s rounding the corner, phone pressed against his ear as he locates her, sitting there on the ground with Hoseok. When she sees him, her face becomes one of surprise, and she’s lowering her phone when he does, sliding the device into his pocket as he approaches them.

He’s only half-dressed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his sneakers completely untied, the shoelaces dragging across the floor while he walks. How did he not trip on his way here, Hoseok wonders, because that is really an impressive feat in a school as big as Hogwarts. But there are a few things that catch his eye while Yoongi flops down on the ground in front of them and levels Y/n with a hard stare when he finally settles into his spot.

“Why are you guys out here on the cold ass floor?”

“Hobi’s doing flower crowns.”

“That didn’t even come close to answering my question.”

Hoseok doesn’t react to the conversation he’s clearly now a part of, too distracted as his eyes roam the shirtless boy’s form curiously. Because there on Yoongi’s left ribcage is Y/n’s name — not the full thing, just her given name, scribbled in black ink across the expanse of his ribs. Right under his heart. Simple and to the point, much like everything uncomplicated about Min Yoongi, Hoseok’s coming to realize. It’s interesting to him that Yoongi has Y/n’s name tattooed on his body, mostly because he’s wondering how many of Yoongi’s ‘late night visitors’ would have had a problem with it -- just how many times Yoongi’s had to make it clear that he doesn’t care what they think.

The other thing to catch Hoseok’s eye is the necklace that Yoongi wears, a thin silver chain with a simple charm, a black star that sits comfortably between his collarbones. It’s something that otherwise would never have gotten Hoseok’s attention, but he’s seen it before. In fact, he knows that if he’d just turn his head, he’d see its double peeking out from beneath Y/n’s sweater. He thinks that if their bond is this tight, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that Y/n has Yoongi’s name tattooed somewhere on her body, too. It’s a curious thing, their relationship, but he’d said it that day in the forest with her, and he’d meant it. He’s grateful for Yoongi, because he would never have met this version of Y/n without him.

“--checking me out right now, I just know it.”

“He’s not checking you out, dumbass.” Hoseok blinks, coming back to reality at the sound of Y/n’s voice, clear as day. When he looks up from Yoongi’s chest, he finds the boy smirking at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“If you’re interested, I am very free tomorrow night.” Hoseok makes a noise of surprise, eyes wide, before he realizes that he’d just been looking Yoongi up and down for at least a full minute. Immediately he’s flushing red because Yoongi’s just propositioned him over a misunderstanding, and the Slytherin is now chuckling at how flustered he is, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Actually, I’m not so sure Y/n would be okay with that -- sorry, Flower Boy. Maybe in another life, when Best Friend Rule 32 doesn’t exist.” Hoseok has no idea what any of the words Yoongi’s just said means, so he’s shaking his head and looking to Y/n for help. She smiles, laying a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

“You’ll have to forgive him -- he reached his sexual awakening way too young in life and now his internal wiring’s a little wonky.” She says it with sarcastic pity, and Yoongi only rolls his eyes before standing.

“Well, I���d love to sit here all night freezing my balls off, but that sounds like something I would definitely not love to do. You gonna be alright here, man? You’re welcome to use Slytherin common room for your flowering if you want.” Hoseok had guessed when Yoongi arrived that he’d come to pick up Y/n, but he hadn’t been expecting the Slytherin to do much more than bid him goodnight. Although warmed by the kindness that Yoongi probably doesn’t even think twice about, he shakes his head with a smile anyway.

“I’m good! I’m just gonna finish this crown and then go to bed — hopefully the party’s dying down a little.” He gestures toward the door to his common room innocently, like he can’t hear the music still blaring loudly even from here. Yoongi raises an eyebrow but nods, reaching out and lifting Y/n to her feet when she takes his hand. He doesn’t let her go, only leading her slowly down the corridor as she turns back to Hoseok.

“Let me know if you get too cold! And make sure you get inside soon, it’s late and you might get sick, and—“

“Oh my God, let the boy live his life, Y/n — you’re not his mom!” Hoseok chuckles when they round the corner, the sounds of their bickering fading into the night.

--

“Weren’t you busy? You’re impossible to get to after the sun goes down, especially when we first get back to school and you have ‘lost time to make up for’ or whatever your crazy logic is.” Yoongi shakes his head with a snicker, pulling her into his bedroom and shutting the door behind them. Jin’s not back yet, and Y/n turns to Yoongi in confusion. He only shrugs.

“Probably with Jimin.” He says nothing more, gesturing to his bed while he slips his shoes off. She does the same, climbing onto the mattress and scooting over to give him room. He’s not telling her something, so she pries because that’s what they do — nothing goes unsaid between them.

“So if you weren’t sleeping with someone…” Yoongi sighs as he turns the light off, making his way to her in the dark.

“I was with Jimin, but we weren’t fucking. My phone died — that’s why I didn’t see your text until I was getting ready for bed, waiting for it to charge.” That explains his state of undress, but it doesn’t explain literally anything else.

“What happened with Jimin? Did you get into a fight or something?” She hears Yoongi snort beside her, and he wiggles an arm under her head so he can be more comfortable.

“Actually, yeah.” Y/n sits up right away, and Yoongi sighs, thinking about how much time he’d just wasted getting his arm under her neck.

“What happened?!” Reaching out, he takes hold of her upper arm, pulling her back down onto the bed.

“Calm down, dork. Nothing’s gonna happen to our group.” She had actually been worried about Yoongi himself, but now that he mentions it, she’s starting to stress about the group dynamic again. Of course something would happen as soon as she and Jungkook resolve their issues.

“He said he didn’t want me coming around just to fuck anymore — that he wasn’t going to be ‘one of many’, whatever that means…” She can see him now that she’s so close to his face, so she catches the way he rolls his eyes in frustration and holds back another sigh. He’s obviously worked up over this, regardless of how he acts.

“But you haven’t been sleeping with anyone else since the first time you slept with Jimin… right?” He’d never actually told her that, and she hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d picked up on his behavior since getting back to school — he’d started avoiding making eye contact with people he sleeps with regularly, ignoring texts from numbers he hasn’t saved. It’s all very unlike the Yoongi she knows, so it must be because he’s changing. And it’s confirmed so easily, when he looks into her eyes for a long moment, finally giving an almost imperceptible nod, one that she only picks up on because he’s breaking eye contact, embarrassed.

“Yeah… it’s just Jimin…” She tries so hard to hide her smile, but she fails — this is the first time Yoongi’s ever slept with only one person consistently, if sleeping with Jimin twice could be considered ‘consistent’. She can’t help that she’s a little proud of him.

When he sees the edges of her lips turning up, he rolls his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her away from him until she’s facing the other direction.

“Enough about me. What happened with Jungkook? Did he apologize or do I have to put him in the Hospital Wing?” She turns back around to face him, smiling when he rolls his eyes again, a habit when they’re together.

“He apologized. Said he would work on himself. That he doesn’t want to lose me or the group.” She keeps it short, gives him the cliffnotes because she knows he’ll fill in the gaps himself. And he does, nodding slowly as he looks her over.

“Relieved because you’re free of his demonic badgering — sad because you actually have to cut the cord with him this time?” She purses her lips, finding it interesting that both Hoseok and Yoongi had reached the same conclusion but had delivered their findings in comically different ways. Nodding, she reaches out to play with his piercings while she thinks, fiddling with the rings on his ear just as she has nearly every day since he’d gotten the double helix.

“I’m just happy that things are finally looking up… but yeah, it hurts a little to let go for good. But I’m okay, I promise.” He nods, the piercings slipping from her fingers. She drops her hand to his shoulder with a small sigh, waiting for his response.

“I know you’re okay — you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Suddenly overcome with emotion, Y/n finds herself frowning deeply, her bottom lip starting to quiver just as it had when she’d left Gryffindor. Yoongi sees it, changing the conversation before the waterworks can start.

“Okay, so we talked about Jungkook. Now let’s talk about Hoseok.” Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving at his shoulder this time and forcing him to turn onto his other side.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re not going to cuff that man, let me know. Because he really was giving me ‘the eyes’ earlier, if you catch my drift—“

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

[bokutoslittlebird]

Your Place

Akaashi x sister!reader

Author’s Note : This was originally gonna just be a short drabble but like.. I’ve thought of this before. So I changed it into a full fledged fic; Fukurōdani has a girls’ volleyball club ; Love hotels in Japan are pretty popular, especially in Tokyo, and happen to have kiosks to keep up the anonymity, while also offering options of staying overnight or for a few hours (generally 2-4). The rooms offer lots of options, including room service (including food and toys), such as jacuzzi, showers, massage chairs, King-sized bed, as well as a box of free condoms ; okay I don’t know if a butt plug can actually plug up a vagina and if it is even safe (it should be) so don’t take my words as fact! Please!

Warnings : Incest, noncon/dubcon, gaslighting, naïve and innocent reader, manipulation, alcohol, underaged drinking [legal age in Japan is 20], love hotels, Keiji wants lil sis to be his housewife, mating press, pussyjob, orgasm denial, overstimulation, sex toys [butt/anal plug, egg vibrator, hitachi wand vibrator], lots of Nii-sans used, breeding kink, no actual pregnancy (yet), fingering (f. receiving)

The roars of the crowd enters your ears as the ball bounces against the floor of the large stadium, the opposing players diving to receive the ball only to fail. Your team screams and cheers, everyone running to envelope the ace of your team, Akari, as she hugs everyone back. Screaming hurts your ears, yet you’re still doing it. Adrenaline rushes through you as the announcer claims your team with the victory and the announcement that you’ll be moving onto the next round, the finals of Nationals.

Your team lines up, shaking hands with the opposing team as congrats is shared between members. Once that is done, you all face the seats on both sides, bowing and thanking them for cheering you all on. When your eyes look into the stadium seats, they immediately catch the lidded eyes of Keiji, his hands clasped together as he smiles. The simple motion has your chest puffing with pride, tears sliding down your cheeks as you know you made him proud. With your position on the team, he’s the one who trained you to be the best setter the Fukurōdani girls’ volleyball club has ever had these last three years.

Once the moment is over, everyone is back at the hotel room and either on their laptops, phones, television, or asleep. When you exit the bathroom, your hair has been brushed and styled with a nice dress, accompanying the leggings and boots Keiji gifted you to wear. Akari whistles, her arm over your shoulder as she talks to you.

“Who you lookin’ so good for?” She pries, eyes tracing the lip gloss you put on.

“My brother. He requested me to wear something nice. He’s taking me to dinner,” a bit of heat is in your voice as you say that. Keiji’s always pampering you, he loves seeing you dolled up. It’s been like that since you were playing dress-up when he was 10 and you were 5. Akari’s gaze takes on a confused look, pursed lips as she processes your words.

“He’s always taking you somewhere nice after a good game, it feels like. Why don’t you ever invite us?” She finally says. Your head snaps up, looking in the mirror at yourself compared to Akari who is also looking at your face and outfit. It wasn’t glamorous in your eyes, but it suddenly dawns on you that it’s more than a brother should expect. The twist in your gut is ignored, your head shaking as you clear your head.

“He doesn’t know any of you guys. Plus, he’s an alumni. He’s always at our games,” your response isn’t what she was expecting, you’re sure of it. But the truth is, you don’t know why Keiji takes you out to nice restaurants or just on nice walks after games. It’s the few times he has off, always requesting off to be with you, cheering you on, his full support as your brother. Occasionally, he even brings along Bokuto, his best friend, who always congratulates you and asks to have you visit his own team someday. It’s a request that you always turn down, Keiji’s eyes taking on a dark glint that sends shivers down your spine at just the mere memory of them.

Akari leaves you alone after that, your time to get ready slowly coming to an end as your phone rings. It’s Keiji, of course, asking if you’re ready yet. “Almost, nii-san! I just need to get my coat and then I’ll head down.”

He’s at the lobby of the hotel, lounging in a chair as he swipes on his phone. He’s dressed as nicely as you are, black slacks with a nice white dress shirt, all under a large coat to keep out the cold. You bounce up to him, excited for the dinner. “You look beautiful, [Y/N],”

“Thank you! You know me so well, so it’s really all your doing,” you giggle, linking your hand in his offered elbow. It felt so right, being beside as you had been these past few years. Walking towards the restaurant, you didn’t even feel the ache in your ankles and balls of your feet from the heels nor the unmistakeable tension between the two of you. It just felt familiar and right to be in this position, sitting across from Keiji as he lets you gush about all the stuff going through your head during the match or even when you happened to be getting ready for the dinner. A shadow seems to settle over his face as you refer to it as such, just a dinner. You almost referred to it as a date, but quickly corrected yourself.

Tension hangs between you two, you having to force it away by breaking the silence Keiji brings. He’s usually much more talkative, praising you as he talks about what you did right and correcting you on things you did wrong, but never criticizing you too hard. Dinner ends, with Keiji paying the full bill without ever letting you know, saying that he simply cannot let a woman pay, regardless of situation. The champagne and wine he let you have a taste of lingers in your mouth, a burn in your throat from the bitter taste of alcohol. It’s not enough to get you drunk, but you do find yourself clinging to Keiji tighter, feet unstable and legs unreliable as he brings you back to the hotel.

He stops and even in your bubbly and hazy state, you can tell the hotel isn’t the same. “Come on, you need to rest,” he says, lips next to you ear as he ushers you inside. Upon entering the room, the lobby, you know it’s not the same. You panic, the alcohol making you less restrained in your actions as you go to tug on Keiji’s arm.

“Nii—��

“Ah, ah, Keiji, dear. Until we get back to your room,”

His usage of ‘your room’ has your nerves calming down, even as he uses his card to pay the kiosk and tap on the screen, buying something. A metal jingle comes from the bottom of the electronic, Keiji picking up the key to a room. Urging you along, you follow him to the elevator. The lack of people seems to enter your mind, confusing you as you glance around the spotlessly clean black elevator. A small voice enters your mind, telling you that the hotel’s elevators are supposed to be silver, shimmering in the light that shines down.

Keiji has to practically drag you into a room, the door shutting and clicking behind you as it locks. The room is spacious, a large tub in the corner of the room as the king-sized bed offers comfort and relaxation. Yet, you falter— unmoving, your voice seems to barely get out as you question your brother. “Where... where are we?”

“My room for the night, dear. You’re drunk, you need to rest,” his comforting words have you slowly shuffling towards the bed. The chair beside the bed seems too fancy for something in a normal hotel room, more adrenaline entering your veins as you panic from unfamiliarity.

“Nii-san, I don’t like this. Take me back to my room. Akari and Hana and-”

“Shut up, you little slut,” the venom in his words has you squeaking, your much smaller frame easily being pinned to the bed by Keiji’s much broader frame. “I’ve been generous this entire evening and all you’ve blabbered about is your team and your friends. What about me, huh? You haven’t even asked how I was doing the entire date,”

“Nii-san, stop!”

“Do I not hold the most importance in your life anymore? You used to be all over me, my sweet little sister that absolutely enjoyed being around me. Now you’re prancing around as if you have not a care in the world. That boy from the boys’ volleyball club seemed awfully close for comfort, don’t you think?”

“He-,” you once more falter, the brief images from after the game when the captain of the boys’ team congratulated all of you on the win. He wasn’t close to you, you were sure of it, but why would Keiji have been there? “He’s barely a friend, nii-san,”

“Not only that, but you always have that giggle and tendency to twirl your hair as you talk to Bokuto-san, your body moving closer to him as he would walk beside you. You barely acknowledge my existence anymore. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“I’m sorry,” the tears spill down your cheeks, a hiccup as he continues to say mean things. “I’m sorry,”

“You’ll be graduating soon and then you’re going to live with me. You’re going to live with me and be my little housewife. I’m going to make you completely mine, inside and out,” his breath is hot as it fans over your face, his grip strong as he continues to squeeze and hold your face. You’re unable to do anything, the fear from his words and actions has you frozen beneath him. As his words settle in, ice crawls through your veins as you realize your gut feeling, the tension between you two, everything you ignored for the past hour and a half had a reason for being there. His entire plan was to bring you here, but you’re unable to do much of anything against him — he’s always been stronger than you. When you were young, it was comforting, his arms holding you after a nightmare or even when your first friend moved to America, but now it just served to bring more tears to you eyes, your body forced to let him do what he wants to you.

Keiji’s quick to undress you, your coat being shed as he pushes your fancy dress up, the leggings, shoes, and panties being pulled off and left to fall on the floor. Tears continue to fall, chest heaving as you’re powerless to do anything. Even if you could find the energy to move and attempt get him off of you, it wouldn’t bring anything to fruition. “You’re so dry, are you not enjoying this?”

“No, nii-san. I’m not,” you’re honest with him, yet he doesn’t stop. Sitting back on his heels, he lets his eyes trail over your form. Before a thought can enter your mind to move, he’s pushing his weight on top of you as he grabs something the table beside him, a long metal rod emerging from the miniature dresser. He keeps you pinned, moving the rubber head down to your clit, pressing a button as it begins to vibrate. “Ah! Nii-san,” your muddled voice comes out, the sensation sending an unfamiliar tingling up your spine.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel even better. All you gotta do is relax, pretty girl,”

“I’m- I’m still- y-your—” your words die on your tongue, your gut twisting into a knot as the sensation turns pleasurable. You’ve never touched yourself, always being told by Keiji that only bad girls touched themselves, that whores and sluts did. Keiji-nii doesn’t like those kinds of girls, so you never dared to go against his wishes.

“Of course you are, baby. You’ll always be my pretty girl, even if I have to remind you exactly where you belong. I’ll remind you of your place,” his words stop there, but in your head his words continue. Silently, the words of ‘if you’ll let me’ enter, an unspoken question that asks for your consent. Yet, you don’t give him anything else. Your moans and mewls are all he gets, a hand grasping at the unbuttoned dress shirt still on him. A small smile paints along his lips, your vision going black as you roll your eyes. Before the knot can release, the vibrations are removed from your clit and you whine, aftershocks coursing through you.

Keiji’s voice is barely a whisper, under his breath, “I’ll give you something much better, don’t worry.” The vibrator is forgotten and discarded, his hands fumbling with his slacks as he pulls them down, along with the dark grey underwear. His cock springs free, hard and thick and long, you unconsciously scoot away as he strokes himself. “Don’t move away,”

“But it’s scary, nii-san,” you whimper, arms close to your chest as your head bumps against the headboard. He doesn’t say anything, using his hand to rub his cock’s tip against your folds. Contrary to earlier, you’re dripping wet as the wet smacks of his appendage against your skin has you clenching around nothing, more juices dripping out. Moving his hips back and forth, he adds another sensation on your clit as he thrusts in between your folds. His tip catches onto the hood of your folds, brushing against the overly sensitive nerves as you whine and mewl at each move he makes.

“You’re so nice and slick for me, it won’t hurt. It just seems scary, look,” he forces you to do just that, hand gripping your hair as he forces you to look at his cock. The underside of it is glistening with your slick, absolutely dripping with you as it slides down to his base and over his balls. “It’s just in your mind, it won’t hurt. Don’t you trust me?”

“But nii-san, I don’t want this,” it’s not what he wants to hear, you’re sure of it. Yet he says nothing. A sigh finally breaks the silent tension as he rubs his finger against your cunt, two fingers slipping in until they can’t anymore. You’re tight, you know you are, clenching around only two of his fingers.

“If you didn’t want this, you would still be dry. You wouldn’t be squeezing my fingers so snugly. This is your body saying it wants this, don’t you remember what I said?”

Of course you don’t, he says a lot to you, so you shake your head. Another sigh.

“You need to listen to your body. It knows you better than you know yourself. I know you better than you do, you know,” his words ring true, his fingers continuing to pump themselves into you as he talks. Eventually, the feeling is no longer unfamiliar, the sensation pleasing as you moan. He smiles at that, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead as his fingers retract themselves. Using the slick on them, he rubs them against his cock to use as lube.

Pushing his tip into you is scary, but it’s not painful. As he sinks further into you, it becomes much more painful. The room must be soundproof, since Keiji keeps pushing in without trying to make you stop your screaming. He does, however, lean down to press his lips to your tear-stained cheeks as you squeeze him. He groans, his hips rutting against you. “You’re fine, stop screaming. Stop being so pathetic,”

His harsh words have your screams silencing, tears and sniffles as your walls flutter around him. It still hurts, it burns, it stings, it’s more painful than anything you’ve ever dealt with before. Before you can manage to get adjusted, Keiji is pushing your legs up to your chest, somehow making himself feel deeper than he actually is. The feeling of being crushed is back once more, his hips rearing back only to come back down against your skin. The scream from your throat is more of a moan, nails digging into the back of Keiji’s neck and teasing the small hairs as he pistons his cock into your cunt.

It’s a tight fit, the way you’re sucking him in and squeezing him with every thrust. Keiji’s balls slap against your slick ass, cunt squelching with each pump of his cock into you as more juices are forced out. His own moans and grunts of pleasure are drowning in the wave of mewls, squeals, and moans spilling from your lips. The feeling from before is back, the knot in your tummy as he rubs his cock against the inside of your walls and instead of being denied once more, the knot finally snaps as you cream all around his cock, accompanying a squeal of his name.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, let me know how good you feel,” he chuckles, picking up his pace as you continue to suck him in. A garbled call of ‘nii-san!’ leaves your lips, the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against you and his thick cock against your fluttering walls has you creaming around him once more. A sound akin to a growl comes from his throat, leaning even further forwards as he gets himself as deep as he can go, the hair at the base of his cock rutting against your sensitive clit. “I’m going to fill you with my seed and you’re going to have my babies, okay?”

“No, nii-san, I don’t want that!” You cries are ignored, your body continuing to clamp around his cock as he shoots his load into you. The feeling of being full and so warm inside has your eyes rolling, drool spilling from your open mouth as you gush around him, clear liquid splashing against his abdomen.

Once the high has passed, he removes his cock from you, keeping you in that position. You don’t dare speak, unsure you’ll be able to as your throat burns from all the screaming and cries. A metal object briefly enters your vision, the object being inserted into your pussy that drips with your brother’s seed, milky white and thick.

“If you keep it all inside, I’ll give you another treat, okay? You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for a response, but he does take out another object. “You need to keep having an orgasm, I’ll make sure you feel real good, okay?” A medium-sized egg-shaped object enters your ass, another stinging pain from the insertion. Another round of vibrations start, your legs shaking as you mewl, head thrown back as you feel another orgasm quickly coming on. “You’ll be a good little housewife for me, won’t you? Swollen with my child and your pussy will be all for me, you know this, don’t you?”

Of course you do, regardless whether your mind agrees with you or not. He’s your nii-san and he knows best.