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nichuuu · 1 year ago

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Beats Me - 4: Settle Down

Tags: Mommy kink, orgasm denial, cumshot, rough sex, Anal

The meat sizzled on the grill, grease splattering all over the place. With a pair of thongs, Eunbi flipped the slice of pork over and let it sit for a little more. The rest of the band was engaged in conversation, their chatter becoming a faint buzz in your ears as you stared off into space.

Practice hadn’t gone well that day. After Chaewon stormed out of the room, yelling about how she’d refuse to play for your band for as long as you were in it, the pugnacious brat seemed to be the only thing your mind could focus on. Memories of her came flooding back at random intervals, making you lose focus in the midst of song. You earned a record high of 6 death glares from Yeji that afternoon.

After practice, Eunbi pushed the idea of going to eat as a band. Everyone enthusiastically jumped on the bandwagon, including Yeji—Who was peer pressured by Ryujin to come—and you wound up at a barbeque place just down the street.

Someone tapped you on your hand. You looked up and found Eunbi staring at you. Concern was written all over her face.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked quietly, careful not to alert the other band members. You smiled and sat up in your seat.

“I-I’m fine,” You assured her.

“You sure? You’ve been out of it since this afternoon,” The singer pressed.

“I’m okay Eunbi,” You reiterated. Eunbi sighed and picked up the pork slice. She placed it down on your plate.

“If there’s anything you need to talk about… I’m here. In fact, we’re here,” Eunbi smiled, gesturing towards the other band members.

“I-I’m really fine Eunbi…” You stated. “I’m just… Thinking…”

Eunbi nodded thoughtfully and got another serving of meat going on the grill. She stared into the fire for a moment.

“Look I… I’m sorry that I brought Chaewon in,” She muttered. “I… I should’ve known…”

“It’s alright Eunbi… I didn’t expect you to,” You comforted your singer.

The girl sighed. She took a sip from her cup.

“When did you guys start?” Eunbi asked.

“Dating?” You confirmed. She nodded.

“Start of highschool,” You told her.

“When did you guys break up?” She continued.

“About a month or two after graduation,” You replied.

Eunbi drew in a breath.

“Damn… Two years together… That’s quite a bit of history,” She mused. You chuckled bitterly.

“I guess…” You mused.

“Yo Squeaker!” Ryujin called out to you. “Be a darling and hand me the garlic would’ya?”

You grabbed the small dish of sliced garlic and slid it down the table. Your bassist caught it and shot you a wink.

“Thanks babe,” She giggled. She’d gotten bolder with you since you first met her and you knew exactly why.

“Ryujin seems to like you,” Eunbi told you.

“Ryujin likes everyone,” You replied.

“Fair enough,” Your singer hummed. “She is one hell of an extrovert.”

You nodded and took a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid washing down the aftertaste of meat. Eunbi distributed the new batch of freshly grilled beef.

“So…” She continued, dragging both of you back to the original topic—Chaewon.

“Let me guess… Why did you guys break up?” You predicted. When it came to Exes, this was a common question that was always thrown out.

“Yea…” Eunbi muttered bashfully.

“I’d… I’d rather not talk about it,” You told her frankly. She understood and didn’t press any further into your history with Chaewon. She knew better than to re-open old wounds.

Yeji shoved the last piece of meat on her plate into her mouth. After wiping her greasy lips, she rose from her seat and shouldered her guitar bag.

“It’s late, I’ll get going,” The guitarist declared.

“It’s eight p.m. Yeji,” Ryujin pointed out. Yeji stepped out and pushed her chair in.

“That’s late enough for me. I have things to do. Bye guys.”

The girl turned tail and left, leaving the five of you behind. Ryujin sighed.

“That girl is too uptight,” The bassist remarked. “Someday, I’ll bring her to a party and get the fun back in her…”

“I’m sure she has her reasons for being the way she is,” Karina reasoned. “Maybe she lives in a really serious environment.”

“Girl, she lives with her sister,” Ryujin countered. “Yeju’s the embodiment of a crackhead, and her husband is even better!”

“Who’s Yeju?” Eunbi inquired.

“Yeji’s older sister,” Ryujin replied. “Yeji’s been living with her and her husband since she was in highschool, they got a really cosy place not too far from here. I love crashing there.”

Ryujin popped a beef slice wrapped in lettuce into her mouth and chewed it rather loudly.

“How do you know this much about Yeji?” Sakura piped. Ryujin swallowed.

“I’ve known her since middle school. She’s changed a lot since then, but the old Yeji’s somewhere in there,” Ryujin said. She took a sip from her cup then stared at the golden-yellow liquid inside it.

“Sometimes I wonder what happened to old Yeji…” The bassist muttered. “She wasn’t like this before…”

You silently ate your slice of meat, silently observing Ryujin in her moment of thought that only lasted for a little over a second. Ryujin eventually pouted and set her glass back down.

“Oh well… I guess we’ll never know,” She sighed. She proceeded to raise her hand and call for another round of beer.

You only left the barbeque place a little past midnight. Thanks to your self control, you managed to stay sober along with Eunbi, who had been too busy cooking for the band to take a sip out of her own glass. You held the door open for Karina, letting her walk out of the door with Ryujin straddling her back. Your bassist had once again gone to town with the alcohol, but she got knocked out this time around.

“Jesus christ… She’s heavier than I remembered,” Karina grunted.

“N-Need me to help?” You offered. Your pianist shook her head.

“It’s alright Myeong-seok. I can manage her,” Karina assured you. “Kkura! Help me hail a cab will you?”

“N-Ne!” Sakura squeaked.

“Let me give you guys a lift,” Eunbi offered.

“It’s good Eunbi… There’s a cab right there,” Karina declined, using her head to gesture to the taxi that happened to be cruising down the street. Sakura quickly ran to the sidewalk and stuck out her hand to flag it down. The vehicle came to a stop before the Japanese girl. Karina shot you and Eunbi a smile before hustling over to the cab.

“Be safe! Text when you guys are back!” Eunbi hollered. Karina yelled something in reply, but her words were muffled by the wind that blew by. Sakura opted to hop in with Karina and Ryujin at the last second, and the cab took off into the night. You stood next to Eunbi, watching as the tail light of the taxi moved further and further away till they disappeared from sight.

“So… How are you getting home?” Eunbi asked you.

“I’ll probably walk back to campus to catch a bus,” You answered.

“Let me send you home,” She offered.

“I-It’s okay Eunbi… I can get home on my own,” You assured her.

“Fine… Suit yourself I guess,” She sighed. “Come on… We both gotta walk back to campus to get home don’t we?”

You smiled awkwardly and nodded. The two of you set off into the night, walking side by side as you made your way back to campus. Admittedly, it was a little awkward walking back with your singer. Even though you’d slept with her that one time, you still were a little tense around Eunbi. Maybe it was her demeanour, or maybe it was that dazzling face… You didn’t know why you still got nervous around her.

“Weather’s nice tonight, isn’t it?” She mused.

“Y-Yea… I-I guess…” You answered.

“Do you always answer questions with ‘Yea’ and ‘I guess’? I swear that’s the only thing I hear out of you sometimes.”

You blushed.

“S-Sorry,” You apologised. Eunbi chuckled and playfully smacked your arm.

“Relax Myeong-seok, just having some fun with you,” She clarified. “Jeez… You’re really tense sometimes you know?”

You chuckled nervously.

“I uh… I’m not really an extrovert,” You admitted.

“I can tell,” Eunbi replied. “Knew it from the moment you stepped into the studio.”

You managed a sheepish laugh.

“D-Didn’t know it was that obvious,” You mused.

“Oh it’s painfully obvious,” She told you. “You always look so shocked whenever any of us speak to you. It’s kinda cute to be honest.”

Eunbi laughed softly to herself, kicking aside a small pebble on the pavement.

“So… How have your first few weeks with us been?” She asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

“It’s… It’s been fun so far,” You said.

“Are the practices too intense at times?” She continued.

“Sometimes…” You answered carefully. “But uh… I-I can cope with it…”

Eunbi fixed you with a look.

“You sure? Cause that glove on your hand really isn’t helping your case,” She remarked. You hid your blistered hand behind your back.

“T-That’s my fault… I… Pushed myself a little too hard,” You replied. Eunbi chuckled.

“Alright, alright… Whatever you say Mr Drummer,” She joked. “Just let me know if you feel a little overwhelmed, okay? I’ll help you out as much as I can.”

“I uh… Thanks…” You managed to reply her. She gave you a pat on your shoulder.

“No problem,” Eunbi said. “I wanna make sure that you’re having a great time with us. Fun first, musicality second. No exceptions.”

She gave you a bright smile. Your breath hitched for a second. You turned away to hide the blush on your cheeks.

The two of you stopped at a traffic junction to wait for the green man to make his appearance. Eunbi started to hum a soft tune to herself, rocking back and forth on her heels while she looked around her. It was an old song, one of those upbeat 80s rock songs that your Mom used to play over the small CD player in your apartment. You couldn’t figure out which song it was, but the tune brought a small smile to your face as bits of nostalgia set in.

Eunbi casted a glance towards you. Noticing the look on your face, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s got you smiling like that?”

“S-Sorry,” You quickly apologised. “The song you were humming… It just reminded me of my Mom…”

“Oh, I see…” She nodded. “Your mom listened to rock?”

“Die hard Van Halen fan. She has all the CDs, treats them better than me,” You disclosed.

“Introduce me to her, I think we’d be great friends,” Eunbi chuckled.

The red man disappeared, and the green man began walking on the display. You crossed the street with Eunbi and continued on your journey back to campus. A slight breeze blew by, ruffling your hair as leaves skidded across the pavement. You silently watched Eunbi from the corner of your eye, your head reeling as you thought of something to talk about. Alas, Eunbi beat you to it.

“You wanna know something?” Eunbi piped.

“What?” You replied, urging her to continue.

“I…” Eunbi trailed off. “Ah nevermind…”

You blinked, a little stunned.

“O-Oh… Okay…”

You walked in silence for a little more.

“How are your parents?” She suddenly inquired.

“O-Oh… They’re good, busy running their Vet clinic in the city,” You told her.

“Your parents are Vets?” Eunbi mused.

“Yea… It’s kinda sweet,” You remarked.

“Sounds kinda romantic doesn’t it? A husband and wife in the same profession and they run a clinic together,” She chuckled. “That’s some wholesome stuff… Love it.”

You let out a soft laugh.

“I guess you could say that…” You said. “How about you Eunbi? How are your parents?”

Eunbi went silent for a little.

“They’re uh… They’re good,” She answered after a second or two.

“Are they still working?” you inquired.

“I uh… Don’t know,” Eunbi shrugged. “I haven’t heard from them in a while. Last I checked, they were fine.”

Judging from her answer, you had a feeling that further questioning wasn’t the best idea. You weren’t the best person to confide in when it came to other people’s personal issues, you let more qualified people handle those. You could never really think of what to say to comfort someone having an absolute breakdown before you, nor did you have the skills to offer any sort of advice to them. You tried to help once—It didn’t go well.

The mood seemed to dampen after your attempt to make conversation with Eunbi. In your heart, you could sense that something happened to her over the course of your questioning. You weren’t sure what happened, but you were certain that it was your fault.

“H-Hey… I-I’m sorry if I brought up a touchy subject,” You began to apologise.

“O-Oh i-it’s fine,” Eunbi allayed you. “You did nothing wrong… The beer’s just kicking in… Getting a little woozy, you know?”

A strong gut feeling told you that she was lying her ass off, but you knew better than to pry into her personal life. The rest of the walk was filled with the awkward silence that you originally started the walk with. The joy seemed to have been sapped out of Eunbi. You silently cussed yourself out for asking the wrong questions.

It didn’t take long for the both of you to get back to campus. The bus stop was in sight, and you subconsciously quickened your pace to get to the stop.

“Oh… Are you leaving already?” Eunbi asked. You turned to face her.

“S-Sort of? The bus stop’s right there…” You answered. Her face visibly fell a little.

“Oh… Alright then… See you around,” She said with a wave. A pang of shame twisted your heart, but You returned the gesture and turned tail to walk away.

The lights of the bus stop were getting closer and closer. You could feel Eunbi’s presence grow further and further from you. It was like the lingering fuzz in your arm after you woke up from sleeping on it, slowly fading till it disappeared. As you stepped under the shelter of the bus stop, an odd sense of emptiness filled your core. Your attempts to shake it off were futile.

Your bus was coming towards the stop. You turned to look at Eunbi’s figuring getting smaller and smaller as she walked back into the campus.

The bus came to a screeching stop before you, the doors sliding open to welcome you in. The soft lights within the vehicle cajoled you, urging you to stop in and have a seat in the empty bus, but the usual pull to enter wasn’t there.

“Hey! You getting on?” the bus captain asked you, looking rather ticked off. You looked him in the eye.

You turned and ran back towards the campus. Your legs carried you with renewed energy, an invisible rope pulling you towards your destination. You managed to catch Eunbi just as she was about to enter the turnstyle.

“Eunbi!” You called her. She whipped around.

“The fuck? Why are you back?” she questioned. You rested your hands on your knees.

“I… I think… I could use a lift,” You panted. Eunbi blinked, looking a little taken aback. The look of shock didn’t last too long, the corners of her lips pulled up into a gleaming smile.

“Cool,” She said. “Let’s get you home then.”

~~~

You’d expected her to ask to come into your place from the moment she pulled into the parking lot of your Apartment complex, yet her question still caught you off guard. You didn’t have the heart to turn her down.

“Hm… Looks cozy,” Eunbi mused as she strolled into your apartment.

“I-It’s not much…” You chuckled shamefully. You weren’t expecting guests any time soon, so you hadn’t really done much of a clean up. One of your hoodies was strewn over the sole chair at your foldable table that functioned as your dining table. Unwashed plates and cups were in your kitchen sink, and you were half certain that that spot where you spilled some apple juice on the floor was still kind of sticky.

“You look like you don’t receive guests often…” Eunbi mused, picking up your ACDC shirt that was strewn across your beanbag. You’d thrifted it a couple of days ago but hadn’t washed it yet.

“W-Well I uh…” You struggled to answer. “I… Don’t invite people in… At all…”

Eunbi giggled and set the shirt back down.

“So am I the first person to enter your place?” She inquired. You rubbed the back of your neck.

“If you don’t count my parents? Yea…” You blushed.

“Hm… Cool.”

Eunbi proceeded to do a little more exploration. She entered your bedroom, which you’d thankfully packed a couple of nights before due to a sudden motivation to do so at 3 in the morning. She casually looked through most of your things, skimming through folders and examining photos like she was given the permission to do so. You trusted her enough to not protest against her actions.

“You know… You’re neater than I expected,” Your singer mused.

“Thanks,” You replied. Eunbi set down the photo album in her hand and turned to face you.

“So… When can we get to fucking?”

Her blunt choice of words combined with her too casual tone threw you completely off guard.

“H-Huh?” You couldn’t help but stutter.

“Damn… I thought you’d take the hint when I asked to come up,” Eunbi sighed.

“I… What?”

Eunbi folded her arms.

“Jesus Christ Myeong-seok… Have I not dropped enough hints on the ride back?”

Admittedly, you weren’t paying attention for about 90% of the ride. You simply nodded and hummed in response to most of Eunbi’s questions and said “oh… cool” to a majority of her statements. In hindsight, you should’ve paid a little more attention.

Eunbi walked towards you, a slight sway in her hips.

“Get on the bed sweetie,” She purred.

“E-Eunbi—”

“Don’t talk back to mommy.”

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as Eunbi stared you down. The power dynamic had shifted, the balance tipping towards Eunbi. This was no longer a friend-to-friend bonding moment. Eunbi wanted you, here and now. There was nothing you could say or do to change her resolve.

You were hesitant, but you slowly walked over to your own bed and sat down on the edge of it. Eunbi walked over to the door and closed it, then she strutted over to you.

“You know what to do, don’t you?” She asked.

“Yes… Mommy,” You answered.

“Good. Now strip.”

You complied somewhat willingly, your arms and hand moving on their own to pull your t-shirt off your body. Eunbi was gracious enough to help you out of your pants and underwear, pulling the articles of clothing right off your legs and tossing them into a corner of your room. She settled next to you and gripped your semi-hard shaft. She squeezed it not too gently and slowly pumped you to full measure.

“Fuck… I forgot just how big you were,” She whispered right into your ear. Her breath tingled your skin. Her hand quickly set itself into a rhythm.

“You know… I should’ve called you for a booty call sooner,” Eunbi mused, her free hand beginning to explore your body. “Searching for a trumpet player’s gotten mommy so pent up, should’ve called you for some form of… relief.”

You let a soft sigh escape from your lips. Eunbi giggled next to you.

“Shall I play with you for a bit? Or should I just get right to it like I did last time?” She asked you. Her nails traced shapes on the nape of your neck. She was slowly breaking you down and weaving herself in the holes of your resolve, taking control of you. You knew it, but you couldn’t stop it. Her hand sped up, delivering full long strokes to your throbbing length while Eunbi began her assault on your ear. She nibbled, she licked and kissed, slowly tuning your senses into overdrive. You were her toy to play with.

“I think… I should play with you for a little,” Eunbi finally decided. “Get you all riled up, then dMake you cum all over me… How does that sound?”

You weren’t in a good state to give her a reply, but Eunbi took the soft whimper that left your throat as a reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Her hand stopped abruptly, freeing you from the spikes of pleasure that’d begun to surge from your crotch area. Eunbi gracefully slipped off the bed, deftly positioning herself on her knees before your twitching shaft. She stroked with consideration, taking her time with you as she let her forefinger and thumb apply pressure to your tip before letting her hand glide to the base of your cock. You stifled a moan, your hands stiff at your sides. The pinkness of her tongue poked out from between her lips. She lowered her head, letting you feel the heat against the tip of your cock. Ou squirmed. She smirked.

Her tongue made contact, teasing your tip with the moistness of her tongue. Every muscle in your body seemed to seize up, responding to her toying. Eunbi made sure to keep your eyes locked on hers as she licked the underside of your length. The softness and warmth made you grit your teeth as you watched her lather up the bottom side of your member. You’d slept with her once, yet she somehow seemed to have found an optimal way to bend you to her will. It was cruel of her—yet something about the way she took her time to paint your length in her spit aroused you to new extents. You twitched wildly in her grasp, each small flick of her tongue sending you gasping and grunting in ways you had no idea you were capable of.

Once your singer was satisfied with the control she’d established over you, she released your cock from the grip of her slender fingers. Spreading your legs further apart to allow for better access, she drawled, “Relax baby… Let Mommy please you.”

She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and rested her palms on your thighs. Before you could even process what was going on, the warmth of Eunbi’s little mouth surrounded your length, lips wrapping around your shaft. You couldn’t fight back a groan.

Sloppy… No, incredibly fucking sloppy was the best way to describe the way Eunbi pleasured you with her mouth. She let the drool flow freely from the corners of her mouth, the frothy fluid sliding down your cock unchallenged as Eunbi had her way with the hard, throbbing meat in her mouth. Glossy pink lips followed a strict path—up, down, up, down—relentlessly slobbering over your shaft while applying a near perfect amount of suction around you as she kept her pace. She was a deadly woman of consistency, each bottom of her stroke aiming to take in more and more of your member into the back of her throat. Her eyes visibly watered, but her resolve remained.

You knew better than to rest your hands anywhere on her body, opting to crumple your sheets with a knuckle-white grip. You could possibly choke the life out of a grown man in seconds. She knew her way around you, the lustful fire in her eyes conveying the joy she derived from making you squirm in your seat while her not too gentle hands fondled with your spit covered sack. Spots danced before your eyes, your world spinning in the handling of Eunbi.

Your cock popped out of her mouth, a mix of pre-cum and spit dripping from your tip.

“You’re awfully quiet baby,” She told you, hand lazily pumping your slippery shaft with full strokes. “How will Mommy know if she’s doing a good job if you don’t moan for me?”

She was a playfully cruel woman. A dark part of you enjoyed this side of your singer…

When she took your cock back into the willing depths of her mouth, you made sure to vocalise your pleasure as much as you could. You caught the faint trace of a smirk on her face as she resumed her work. In and out; disappearing and reappearing—You couldn’t get enough of the way Eunbi blew you.

When she decided that she’d played with you for long enough, Eunbi sadly released your throbbing length from the warmth of her mouth. Wordlessly, she rose to her knees and ridded herself of her clothes. No teasing, no antics. Eunbi was horny and she needed cock, your cock.

She pushed you back, your shoulders impacting your mattress as Eunbi straddled you. She lifted herself up slightly, her hand reaching back to grab your swollen length and line it up with the entrance to her slit. She wasted no time in hilting you inside of her, a soft cry leaving her lips as she planted her hands on your chest.

“Fuck… Your cock feels so fucking good inside of me,” She hissed. She raised her hips slightly and slammed herself back down onto you, earning a sharp gasp from you. Eunbi smiled wickedly.

“Let’s see how long you last inside Mommy’s pussy… Don’t cum till I let you”

She took off. Eunbi rode you fiercely, roughly, taking you in and out of her tight wet slick. She was oblivious to your comfort, the only thing concerning her being filling herself over and over with your thick, hard cock. Eunbi’s nails dug into your chest, her face wild and brimming with need. Beads of sweat had begun decorating her curvaceous body, milky skin glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom.

“Fuck baby… So… Fucking… Full!”

She leaned down and crashed her lips against yours. Her tongue invades your month. You let her in. You were helpless, completely unable to resist Eunbi as she took her pleasure from your body. In a weird, twisted way—you were savouring every second of it. The way her pussy clenched tightly around you, so slick and so tight. The way she ripped her gaze from your eyes to cast her head back, sending locks of jet-black hair flying as she sighed and moaned her pleasure. The way her hips and thighs never slowed nor lost their rhythm… So much to take in; so much to feel.

“You love… My pussy don’t you? Do you like… how I fuck your cock with it?” Eunbi hissed between lustful moans. She thrusted her hips against yours, thighs crashing against your hips while your cock speared through her folds.

“Y-Yes Mommy… I-I love your pussy so much!” Came your reply. Eunbi pulled you upright aggressively.

“Suck my tits baby,” She commanded. You were more than happy to obey.

Her hands gripped your hair and pulled you into her chest. Your face crashed against her breasts, the warm, delicious cleavage between them filled with her sweat. You quickly latched your mouth onto her left nipple and sucked greedily. Eunbi let out a strangled gasp of pleasure.

“That’s it baby… Just like that…” Eunbi spurred you.

You feasted on her breasts, tongue licking and swirling—Giving her the works. Her hips moved a little quicker, no longer taking your entire length into her pussy. Instead, she withdrew only half way before plunging down again to drive you faster and harder inside her tight, drenched pussy. Her juices flowed freely, coating the insides of her thighs and your crotch. Her sighs became shallower and shallower by the minute.

“Baby… You’re gonna make Mommy… Oh god… Oh fucking go—”

Ironically enough, the one who wanted to test how long you could last came first. Her entire body is struck by a bolt of pleasure, quivering, shaking and trembling involuntarily. Cusses spill out of her mouth, paired with intermittent cries of pleasure and other exclamations. From between her tits you could see Eunbi’s features twist, face wracked with pleasure as she holds you firmly against her chest. You yourself were fighting back your own orgasm. Rules set by Eunbi were rules that must be followed.

It took forever for Eunbi to wind down, but the wait was worth it as her hands slackened, allowing you to pull back and witness her bask in the glow of her orgasm. The need for control disappeared for just a little bit, the natural softness behind those eyes returning for a second while she gazed passionately into her eyes. You pulled her in for a kiss, earning yourself a soft moan into your mouth.

When she pulled away, you could sense the slight change in her demeanour. She smiled warmly and cradled your face in her hands.

“You okay?” She whispered. You nodded, she giggled.

“Good, cause I still need more.”

Your living room was the next location. She tossed away the ACDC shirt on the beanbag and bent herself over it, looking back to catch your gaze.

“Don’t keep Mommy waiting,” Eunbi rasped. You weren’t one to make a woman wait. You got down on your knees behind her, your tip lined up with her dripping slit.

“Wait,” She stopped you. “My ass. Fuck my ass.”

She reached back and spread her ample ass cheeks apart for you. You lined your tip up with her asshole.

“Be quick,” Eunbi instructed. You nodded and pushed right in. Your shaft, lubricated with Eunbi’s juices and saliva, slipped seamlessly into her warm, tight hole. Eunbi yelped, her hand gripping your beanbag.

“Fuck…” She hissed. “Forgot… How that felt like…”

You gave Eunbi a moment to adjust, content with fondling her ass cheeks as Eunbi drew deep breaths.

“Okay,” She finally sighed after a minute or two. “Go.”

One word was all you needed to know how she wanted to be fucked. You pumped in and out of her tight little hole, Eunbi rocking back into you with each thrust you made into her body. For what felt like hours, you continued to fuck Eunbi’s hot ass, shaft drilling in and out from between her asscheeks as sighs of pleasure escaped her throat. You took the risk and let your hands roam the curves of Eunbi’s body, reaching around her to grab ahold of her full tits and playing with the soft flesh of her butt. She let you do as you please, focusing on pounding back onto your cock. Her sighs filled your ears, hypnotising you in the sound of her sensual voice. The warmth of her ass roped you deeper into your lust, the scent of her perfume mixing with the smell of her sweat.

“Oh fuck… Oh fuck fuck fuck,” She let the filth spill forth. “God I feel so fucking full… Your cock always fills me up just the way I like…”

She propped herself up on her hands, her slim tummy resting on the bean bag.

“Keep going baby… You’re… You’re doing such a good job,” she praised between gasps. It was taking everything in your body to keep you from unloading into Eunbi’s ass right there and then. Nonetheless, you persevered.

Eunbi’s moans coaxed you, her soft sighs spurring you—Every little thing she did while you fucked her drove you wild. You could feel your cock pulsing inside of her, aching to release rope after rope of cum into that tight little ass of hers. All that riding done by Eunbi had already driven you close.

Eunbi definitely knew that you were at your upper limit, but that didn’t stop her from making things harder for you.

“Speed up,” She prompted with a smirk. “And don’t you dare cum till I let you.”

“But—”

She shot you a glare that silenced you.

“One more word and I’ll make sure that you’ll never cum tonight,” She warned. Not taking her seriously would be a stupid decision, but you weren’t certain how much longer you could last inside of her.

Following orders, you picked up the semi-frantic pace. Eunbi tilted her head back, spine arching in a delicious curve. You could see the smirk on her face. It was killing you.

You couldn’t hold on anymore. Your thrusts into her ass shallowed, your breath quickening as you prepared to let loose.

“M-Mommy,” You groaned.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I-I… I can’t!”

Eunbi abruptly slid forward, withdrawing herself from your cock. She whipped around and gripped your cock tightly, squeezing it in a vice grip as she stared right into your soul.

“Don’t,” She whispered flatly. “Don’t make Mommy punish you baby…”

Her grip on your member was not helping to reduce the pressure in your cock. You could feel yourself leaking, your length twitching wildly in Eunbi’s hand. She laid a hand on your chest.

“Good boy,” She praised once your breathing had settled. “Mommy will let you cum when she’s satisfied, so you better be at your best performance for the rest of the night.”

You gulped and nodded, knowing full well that she meant every word she said. You were in for a rough time.

She tortured you for the rest of the night, making you fuck her in all sorts of positions that drove you insanely close to the edge. Each time she sensed your impending orgasm, she forced you out of her and squeezed your member rather painfully. She made you fuck her over the sink, rail her on the bed, eat her out on the desk… The list went on and on. She kept you painfully close to the edge the whole time, making sure to put on an increasing lewd display of pleasure as you progressed into the night. It got to a point where a perpetual tingle lingered in your crotch area. It was like an itch that you couldn’t scratch.

Your torture amounted to something at the end of it all. As Eunbi laid on your floor, spent from her nth orgasm of the night, she coaxed you towards her. With your jelly like legs, you somehow managed to waddle on your knees towards her.

“Kneel… Over me,” She rasped. You did as you were told. With what remaining strength she had left, she reached up and began pumping away at your shaft. With satisfaction written all over her face, she uttered two words.

“Paint me.”

The orgasm that you experienced would go down in your records as the definition of an explosive orgasm. You felt every burst of semen that shot out from your shaft, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth in streams as Eunbi milked every last drop out of you. Rope after rope painted her tight body, your seed leaving no bit of skin uncovered. Even when the orgasm subsided, warm spurts of cum still leaked out of you, oozing from your tip and dripping onto your singer below you.

Your legs eventually gave way. You crashed down next to her. With a face and body full of cum, she smiled and whispered into your ear.

“Next time… I’ll let you cum in me…”

~~~

You both collectively decided to skip classes the next day. Eunbi spent the morning at your place, sauntering around your apartment in nothing but her panties and one of your Led Zeppelin shirts. She proved to be an excellent cook, whipping up an excellent breakfast with what you had in the fridge. Pairing Eunbi’s masterful cooking with a rather pathetic cup of instant coffee, you sat down on the floor with Eunbi to have one of the best meals you’d ever eat.

“God… This is so good,” You told her. Eunbi giggled.

“Please, it’s just a simple meal,” She humbly replied.

“Simplicity is good sometimes,” You shrugged. Eunbi smiled warmly.

“Glad you like it.”

It felt like the distance between the two of you had closed after last night. You found yourself feeling oddly comfortable around her, finding that you could hold a conversation with her without ever descending into awkward silence. You were glad that you got the sudden urge to run after her the night before.

Before she left, she helped you to clean up the mess you’d both made. Surfaces were scrubbed clean, floors wiped till it sparked. Only when she’d made the place cleaner than when she first arrived did she dress herself in her jeans from last night.

“I’ll return your shirt to you next practice,” She assured you, slipping on her sneakers. “Or maybe you could call me over again…”

You blushed.

“I think I uh… I think I’ll lay off for a bit,” You muttered. Eunbi giggled mischievously.

“Suit yourself,” She shrugged. “See you next practice then.”

Eunbi left your place, leaving you alone for the rest of the day. You used the rest of the daytime to catch up on some work. Somewhere in the evening, a knock came on your door. You set your pen down and hurried over to open it. When you did, a kind-looking young lady greeted you enthusiastically.

“Hello! I’m Yeju, pleased to meet you!” She beamed. You could feel the positive energy radiating off her. She looked familiar for some reason.

“O-Oh… Hi,” You greeted her.

“I’m your new neighbour. I just moved into the apartment down the hall yesterday,” She explained to you. “Just wanted to drop by and say a quick hello! Hope we can be great friends!”

It felt like you were the only introvert in this world. You smiled awkwardly and nodded.

“N-Nice to meet you Yeju… I-I’m Myeong-seok,” You smiled.

“Wow! You share the same name as my husband!” Yeju laughed loudly. “Small world huh?”

“I-I guess…” You chuckled.

The lady’s name rang a bell in your head, but you couldn’t remember when and where you heard the name from. Fortunately for you, your memory was about to get jogged.

“Oh! And before I forget,” The lady continued. “Let me introduce you to my sister!”

She stepped aside. Hwang Yeji stared right back at you, fixing you with her signature death glare. You felt like you were about to shit yourself.

With an icy cold look, she locked eyes with you and said, “I can’t fucking believe that we’re neighbours now…”

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

Hai. Wats popping kings and queens.

This was long overdue and I apologies for my procrastination. Hope ya'll enjoy this fic that I re-wrote 4 times because it was funk at the start. Thanks for stopping by to read and have a nice day :).

#eunbi smut #kwon eunbi #kpop #smut #fanfic

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burnednotburied · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into something different. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

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

March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x seraphite

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thatsatricky1 · 19 days ago

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𝐎𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐥.𝐣𝐧

“Jeno we’re here.” Y/n whispered gently, shaking his shoulder not wanting a plastic knife coming her way from waking him up.

“What?” Came Jeno’s muffled and groggy response, eyes barely opening trying to recall the last couple of hours.

“You basically decided you’d had enough of socialising at the party, hiding upstairs and trying to sleep. Thought it might be best to at least let you crash somewhere that didn’t involve loud music.”

Jeno only let out a tired hum as she helped unbuckle his seatbelt. Somehow managing to help him all the way inside.

If there was one thing to describe Jeno when he was tired, it was that he was clingy. Y/n barely managed to chuck the ghostface mask and fake plastic knife on her nightstand before being shoved onto the bed.

Jeno’s body entirely encased her on top of the bed as he wanted to fall asleep as soon as possible again.

“Nono, as much as this is adorable and perfect blackmail material to hold over you tomorrow you’re going to suffocate me.” Y/n wheezed out tapping his back gently.

Jeno’s bright idea was to roll over onto the empty side of the bed, Y/n taking in a very welcoming breath of air before hands tugged against her waist pulling her back against his chest.

“I probably should have expected that.” She breathed out a small laugh resting her head backwards.

“Shhhh.” Jeno hushed out, holding her tighter against his chest like his own personal teddy bear.

“You’re usually cuddly when tired, and touchy when tipsy but both make a dangerous combo.” Y/n spoke anyway.

“I said shhhh.” Jeno whispered back, moving to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

“You’ll fall asleep even if I speak Jeno.”

Jeno didn’t even bother to hush her again instead gripping her waist tighter moving to graze his lips against her neck, nudging her jaw with his nose. Deciding to get bolder when she didn’t complain. Soft kisses being place have hazardly across her neck closest to his lips.

“Definetly a dangerous combo.” She spoke closing her eyes.

“I told you to stop talking no I’m waking up.” He mumbled out against her neck.

“You’ll be horrified tomorrow morning you know.”

“I won’t, I’ve been thinking about this all night.” He didn’t have a filter right now.

“How about we talk about it in the morning Jeno.” Y/n spoke not wanting him to do something he’d regret, even if it wasn’t the tiredness or tipsy part of him talking.

“If you let me kiss you tomorrow then yeah.” He mumbled back eyes blinking rapidly to stay awake.

Though a hand starting to card through his hair made his eyes slip closed again this time not opening again as he drifted back to sleep.

🔪

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

Jeno tiredly sat on the counter island stool, hair messy as he watched Y/n stood on the other side of the counter holding up his ghostface mask from the night beforehand against her face.

“I don’t know.” Jeno replied using Carey’s line before adding his own spin on it “I like scary stories more.”

Putting the mask down on the counter, Y/n leaned over it resting the palm of her hand on top of her chin.

“Remember anything from last night Jeno?” She was already grinning with that look in her eyes ready to embarrass him.

Jeno only shrugged as he got up to grab something to drink from the fridge much to her disappointment, she didn’t think he’d drank that much.

Though a hand cupping her face turning her to the left and soft lips touching hers for the briefest moment answered the question properly for her.

“Just that you owed me a kiss.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun @bluedbliss @haechansbbg @officiallyjaehyuns @bunnychui @audreybub

(This Taglist is used for all my nct context so if you’d like to be tagged in my nct content please comment or write to me to be added)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I am on a cuddly Jeno agenda and you can’t stop me. You cannot tell me Jeno does not become a puddle when it comes to whoever his partner would be, I will not be taking any other answer on that lol.

𝐁𝐨𝐨 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐰:

Tap

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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multiplicity-positivity · 6 months ago

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Living with the Haters

Hey folks - we had made a post not long after the influx of TikTokers came over with our thoughts on the situation and some advice and encouragement. In that post, we mentioned that they would probably get bored and leave. We still think this could happen, but as time goes on and they dig their claws in, it seems more and more likely that they might be here to stay. So here’s our thoughts on things as they are now and how we can work together to keep our community safe.

1. Do Not engage with them!

We’ve seen that a lot of these users are gaining traction and having a hearty laugh due to others sending them asks inciting violence, calling them out, or begging them to change.

Let us say right now that sending someone threats or suicide bait is NEVER okay, no matter how bad of a person you think they are. No exceptions. It’s not good to try and build ourselves up by tearing others down. Not only will this tactic just not work, it will only inspire these folks to be bolder, brasher, and more unkind. Hate from others does not inspire change - it only strengthens resolve.

So please, refrain from sending hate to any anti-endo posting in the #pluralgang tag! Give these people the attention they deserve - absolutely none at all!

2. Keep yourself safe and BLOCK!

Someone posting in the tags wishing violence on endos? Block!

Someone making cutesy “endos you’re not real and will never be valid uwu” posts? Block!

Someone posting in our tags “Why I think endos aren’t real/Why endos are harmful”? Block!

Someone making fun of endos, plurals, our community, and the labels we’ve coined to describe our experiences? Block!

Someone angrily slinging slurs in our tags? Block!

Someone crossposting their posts with plural inclusive tags (#pluralgang, #actually plural, etc) and also endo hate tags (#endos fuck off, #anti endo, #kys endos, etc)? Block!

Block anyone who makes you uncomfortable! Block anyone who denies you the right to define your own experiences in language that works best for you and your system! Block anyone who uses our inclusive tags to spread hateful ideas! Block liberally, block without remorse!

If you have any sideblogs, make sure to block these users from those blogs so that they cannot access any of your posts! Blocking a user from your main will not keep that user from viewing your other blogs. You can block on a sideblog through your Account Settings on Tumblr desktop version - reach out if you need any help with this!

3. Stay positive and active in our tags!

Don’t stop using #pluralgang and other inclusive tags because they’re getting overrun with TikTokers. Keep using them! In fact, use them even more! Post positivity, gush about your system, have discussions and conversations about plurality, post art, post poetry and personal experiences, just keep posting! We can reclaim our tags if we work together to fill them with posts that spread warmth, kindness, and earnest experiences. Make plural prompts! Ask questions! Post doodles! Take part in ask games! Make shoutouts for your headmates! Be your most authentic self, and don’t be ashamed for loudly and boldly being who you are!

In conclusion:

As more and more users block those who are spreading hate, they’ll find they have less and less content to hate on and interact with. They’ll be posting only for each other, and it won’t be as fun for them because there won’t be anyone to offend and trigger. This is what we’re aiming for!

And in the mean time, we can celebrate plurality how we choose! We can boost each other and lift each other up while simultaneously ignoring and avoiding those who seek to drag us down. Let’s work together to keep the plural community on Tumblr a beautiful, vibrant, and uplifting space!

Thank you so much for reading this! Stay safe out there, and take care!

#plurality #pluralgang #actually plural #endogenic #endo safe #endo friendly #pro endo #violence #threats #suicide #suicide baiting

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cleolinda · 2 years ago

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Update (content: discussion of healed injuries and scars, nothing gory):

I have seen a Legit Eye Doctor and My Actual Dentist, and they say the parts of my face that I landed on, on concrete, actually look pretty good and undamaged; it was just gnarly on the outside.

My face is almost entirely back to normal; diluted vinegar really cleared up the last of the bruising. My cheekbone is still swollen and lumpy, but I’m not sure you really see it; I’ll be seeing my GP as soon as she can work me in (it’s time for a checkup anyway).

The biggest problem (besides my busted shin) is that I now have a pretty deep scar right above the corner of my mouth. It’s the perfect placement for a Marilyn Monroe beauty mark, and if it were small and cute and round, I’d just go with it. Unfortunately, it’s a distracting little mustache flick. Disrespectful, unideal.

Fortunately, scar treatment is something of a hobby in my family. Normally we swear by Palmer’s cocoa butter, but I’m not sure if that would be good for my pores here. They do have a face oil I used to use; right now I’m using some rosehip oil and a tube of Scar Away that I used for my spinal surgery scar. The actual process of rubbing in your oil or your cocoa butter particularly helps; the scars on my wrist and arm are already looking relatively good. My shin is still pretty painfully fucked up, so we’re not to the scar treatment point yet.

I am wearing glasses at the moment, which helps a lot; the downside is, they’re my old wire frames with one nose piece snapped off. But the cheek swelling has gone down enough that I can cram a vision aid onto my face, and I picked out some new glasses on Saturday. I mean, it’ll take them TWO WEEKS to make the new ones (progressive lenses), but we persevere. The new frames are reasonably similar to the ones I broke in the fall (black, a little “bolder” than the wire frames you would have seen if you met me at conventions), and LensCrafters has a 50% sale going. Preferable, ideal.

Now that I can actually see, I will be getting back to writing those posts I was planning. I purposefully haven’t gone on the Dracula tags here, but posts sometimes end up on my dash anyway, and… I just really feel like the Discourse is ahead of anything I was going to say about it. There are still a few things I’d like to bring up, but in terms of consistent, recap-level posting, I think I’ll go straight on to Varney. And I have some perfume posts drafted already.

#injury cw #tribulations #face smash 2023 #welcome to hell it’s my blog #me for some reason

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wwilloww · 3 years ago

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sh. | chapter eleven | ot7

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 6k WARNINGS AND TAGS reference to reader with she/her pronouns. kissing. food play. discussions of sexual boundaries/expectations. discussions of kink culture.

← || series m.list || →

AN: this chapter has been so long in the making and i couldn't have done it without the possums sprinting with me or without the support of @calixwrites @xjoonchildx @thatlongspringnight and @illneverrecover who helped me pull together the mess that is this chapter. thank you so much to them. if you enjoy this chapter, i'd love to hear from you!

CHAPTER ELEVEN: PERSEPHONE'S TABLE

“I’m in.”

Seven pairs of eyes widen as you stand in the door, your red dress flowing around you, hair a little ruffled from the wind, face stinging from the cold. You look like a spirit of winter, flown in from the storm.

“Are you okay—” Hoseok begins to say, but Jungkook quickly stands up to speak.

“Fuck yeah,” Jungkook interrupts, clapping his hands together. “I mean, I thought we were going to eat first,” he adds with a sigh, looking longingly at the food at the table. “But me too. I’m in.”

“There’s no doubt I’m in,” Jimin adds. “I’m not about to pass up the opportunity to get my hands on seven lovely people.”

A giggle escapes Yoongi, a sound so foreign that you have to double check it's him. “This is a lot easier than expected—” Easy is not the word you would use to describe the last 36 hours. “But I think it’s pretty obvious where I stand considering I suggested it. Namjoon?”

Namjoon looks a little flustered that he’s been called on, but nonetheless, nods. “I think… I thought it through—” His eyes flick up to yours. “And think this might be a good idea. After all…” When he begins to trail off, you nod encouragingly, goading him on. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. And more than that, being cramped up here with you lot—” someone snorts at the word cramped. “—has brought back things I thought were in the past.” Before you can linger on what that might mean, Namjoon is already spiraling off in another direction, “And I’ve read! I’ve read so many things about the multiplicity of romance and, ahem, sex, and how the capitalisticstructureofoursociety really reliesuponthetwofamilyunit to produce workers and continue the cycle of poverty, and polyamory—” his eyes widen at the word. Is what’s happening between all of you polyamory? That sounds so… official. “Or just sex, sex with multiple partners can be an active way of pushing against the patriarchy and impending capitalistic doomsday.” And then more quietly, as if he’s only just realized that he is in a room with seven people but needs to get the final word in: “Plus, the stigma against multipartner sex is historical, not biological.”

“Reading is nice,” Jimin says. “But you can’t have a book tell you what you ought to do in this situation.

Namjoon nods. “Yeah, um.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well. I do, um, want this.” And then a second time, but bolder: “I do. Really. It’s… important to me.”

Yoongi and Jimin nod eagerly. Taehyung seems contemplative as he reads Namjoon’s features carefully. Jin keeps glancing at the food. Jungkook, who looks a little nervous at first, whispers something to his neighbor, Jimin, a big dopey grin spreading across his face. Hoseok, however, holds a blank expression.

Taehyung looks to Jin. “Well, we’re both in, based on our discussion last night.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Uh, yes, of course we’re in. But I just thought we would eat first before all of this.”

That’s seven yes’s. And one unanswered. Seven pairs of eyes turn their attention to the one man who has been silent since you entered the room: Hoseok.

The man stands there, hands in his pockets. Out of all of you, Hoseok has always been the one to laugh first, crack a joke first, get on the dance floor first. And yet in this moment, he’s the only one who holds back. The look on his face is one that you know well, if not frequently: that expression he gets when he’s entirely focused. To an outsider, it might look like anger. But to one who knows, they understand that his features are drawn close in perfect concentration, his eyes locking on the center of his attention, his mouth pursing into a set line. It was one of the many things that you loved about him, these moments of intense focus that sat so opposite to his usually playful mannerisms.

Shouldn’t it be you in his place, hesitating, worrying that this step is going to fuck everything and everyone over? Instead, it feels like the cold wind from outside has cleared out your insides and left you with nothing but want.

When Hoseok still hasn’t answered, Jimin pulls him aside to whisper something in his ear, his hand stroking over Hoseok’s back in a sign of comfort. You try to make out what he is saying with no luck.

“I can’t—” Hoseok says, looking directly at you, heartbreak written across his face. And he turns on his heel and steps out of the room.

You watch the house of cards you’d carefully built up in your mind tumble to the ground, unaware that failure was even an option. If all eight of you weren’t in, none of you were in. But you didn’t imagine it going this way. Not really. There was some part of you that thought it could just be this easy, really, this easy, that everyone would say yes and all of you would just fall into it in one swift, simple motion. That all the tension that’s been living in this house, strung between the lot of you would simply cease, like it was cut through with a hot knife.

A collective gasp shudders through the group. Your friends turn to one another, expressions of concern dancing across their features.

“What—” Jungkook begins, his brow furrowing as he watches Hoseok disappear. “Is he okay?” The others mumble in alarm.

“I’ll take care of it,” you say, though, truly you have no idea how you’ll take care of this.

You follow Hoseok out of the room, but he seems so lost in his thoughts that it’s not until you catch up to him as he’s crossing the glass bridge and reach for his shoulder that he stops.

At first he seems surprised that it’s you, but he wraps you up in a hug that shocks you. It’s not until a moment later that you wrap your arms around him too and squeeze back.

“What’s going on?” you murmur into his chest.

He’s quiet for a moment before answering, pulling back and swiping a hand through his hair.

“It’s just ridiculous. The whole thing’s ridiculous.”

Ridiculous? Just last night he had said it hadn’t been so wild of an idea.

“What? I thought you said—”

“I remember what I said and I just, I got to thinking today and I’m not going to make you do something horrific like this.”

“Horrific? What the hell do you mean?”

Horrific is the last word you would use to describe any of this.

“I’m not going to force you to become some sort of concubine to seven men,” he says.

You laugh, thinking he can’t be serious. But when you see the frown on his face, you quiet. He is serious.

“Is that what you think this is?” you ask softly.

“Of course that’s what this is—”

“No—”

“Of course that’s what this is!” He grabs your shoulders and stares into your eyes. “But the thing is, you don’t have to do it just because you think that they’re, what? Horny after all this time stuck in quarantine? Like you’re just supposed to go along with it, like some kind of sex slave or something, reduced to nothing but a set of holes to be used by seven horny men?! What are you going to do? Lay around the house all day just waiting… waiting to be….used? Like a sexual vending machine?”

“Hoseok.”

It’s clear he’s spent an absurd amount of time in his head, sinking deeper and deeper into his anxiety. And while the image he’s painted, well, it might not be the reality of the situation, it’s also not the worst idea he’s ever had. You, at the whim and will of seven beautiful men. Still, the man needs some course correction. He’s still gripping your shoulders, and you gently wrangle out of his grasp to step closer to him. You reach out and place a hand on his arm, trying to bring him back to you, to this, to reality.

“No, no.”

“No, really, they’ve pressured you into this and…” His brow furrows, as if he’s hearing his own words for the first time and speculating at their reality.

“Hoseok.” He finally stops, his lips setting into a firm line. “No one is pressuring me.”

He frowns at you, contemplating what you’ve said. Gaging whether to trust it or not.

“What’s really going on up here?” you say, tapping on his forehead. But when you begin to withdraw your hand, he grabs your wrist and presses your palm to his face.

You blink.

He’s warm beneath your touch, but you can feel a slight tremor when he speaks. But now, now, all there is are his eyes, brown and wide and searching.

“It’s happening so fast,” he says hurriedly, the words whispered into the ever narrowing space between you two. “I can’t keep up.”

“What’s happening so fast?”

“Everything. Everyone. I thought—I thought I had more time.”

“More time for what? Nothing’s ending tonight, Hoseok.” He flinches under the formal name as if he’s finally heard it, but it’s too late to correct. If anything, tonight feels like a grand beginning. For you, tonight is the opening of the door to a whole new world. But when he looks at you, you know what you’ve said isn’t true for him. Loss, heartbreak, flutters behind the warmth in his eyes. He’s losing something. Someone.

Still, he shakes himself out of his thoughts. His gaze comes back to you.

“You’re sure there’s no one, no expectations or anything, that others are putting on you—You’re sure this is something you want?”

“Of course I want you, Hoseok—”

“What?”

It’s only when it’s too late that you realize what you’ve said.

“You want me?”

“I want you…” You say slowly, like testing the words on your tongue.

“And you want the others.” He’s so quick to jump to the next thing. You just want to linger on what you’ve already said, how big it feels, hovering between you both.

“Can’t you just listen to what I’ve said?”

Sure, of course, it’s been a long time without sex. And even with the introduction of your nightly romps with Jungkook and Jimin — and your quiet moments with Namjoon — you’re still left wanting more. Your time with Jungkook and Jimin didn’t erase any of the rest of the longing that lived in your chest. If anything, it merely stoked the flame higher. A flame that yearned for Hoseok, too, with a particular kind of ache.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck.

“Why should I?”

He’s so thick, he’s so frustrating, you have no idea how you’re going to get through to him.

So instead, you reach up, press your hands to his cheeks, and kiss him.

It feels like a mistake the moment you’ve done it. It’s like walking across a bridge, without knowing that there’s an end in sight. You don’t know how he feels, and for all you know, he could be saying all this bullshit about you being a concubine because he just needs a way out, and it’s easier to turn it back on you than it is to look within. He’s always been this way. It’s been a long history of him keeping his emotions just beyond reach of you. Just beyond reach of himself, too. Even his thoughts, which felt less threatening to him than his own feelings, those too he kept caged up and hidden out of sight from you.

Hoseok is shocked, you can feel his shock shoot like ice through his body, like a bad memory,

All of a sudden it feels like that cab ride again, back in January, the silence sliding like a winter storm between you as you both stare out of opposite windows.

But his hands are gliding gently up your waist.

And he’s stepping closer.

It’s awkward, fumbling, like re-learning to walk.

But then the ice of his shock begins to melt as your lips meet his, sublimating into something explosive. Something that sings of fire ravaging through a frozen forest, flames licking at icicles, ice vaporizing beneath touch.

Your chest burns with desire larger than you know how to name, how to know. It burns like a winter sun, shining through the trees on a dark day. Like eyes, aching as they adjust to the light.

His hands fumble across your skin, he presses in closer.

The burn intensifies.

And so abruptly, you pull away, like you’ve been scalded. And force a soft smile to your face, despite the way you are quaking inside. And say:

“I wanted to do that. Does that say anything?”

He nods, swallowing quickly and tugs at the hem of his shirt. “Yes.”

Silence hangs between you as he searches your face, looking for an answer to a question you don’t know.

“Do you—did you… want? Want me to do that?” You stumble over the words.

He nods. “Yes. Yes, I—” He grips your hand in his and pulls you closer. “I did.” For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you again. Breath is the only thing that hangs between you. But then he says, “Are you sure this is something you want?” and nods back towards where the others are waiting.

“Yes,” you say.

He looks down and swings your hand back and forth, his gaze locked on your interlaced fingers.

“Alright,” he says.

Part of you wants to linger, wants to kiss him again and give it a real shot and make it right. Not some fumbling, half-burnt mess of a kiss. But you see the thoughts spinning in his mind and so you say: “I’ll give you a moment,” and step back. The walk back to the dining room blurs in the mess of your pounding heartbeat. The boys are waiting for you.

Most of them are ogling the food greedily, Jungkook is even licking something off of his pinky finger. The rest are kind of lounging around, the chairs scattered, and that same warm feeling from before cuts right through your chest and warms you from the inside out. Whatever that was, back in the hallway, this, here, is at least familiar.

Even as a blanket of tension hangs about, which is fair, considering Hoseok had just run out of the room, there is a groundedness to the group. They take turns glancing at the door, picking nervously at the food, and mumbling to one another. But beneath it all, familiarity. Even if Hoseok is missing.

Your fingers unconsciously drift up to your lips, tracing over the skin where his lips were just a moment ago.

Jimin’s eyes follow your movements, attempting to parse together what’s just happened. Your gaze catches his and you smile softly. He nods towards the hallway with a raised eyebrow and you shrug. I’ve done my best.

Though, you’re not sure that kissing the man who’s been swirling through your head all week was your best. Or in your best interest, let alone his.

Finally, Hoseok returns back to the group, face set and determined. For a just a second, his gaze flicks to you before he sets his face sternly and speaks:

He clears his throat. “Sorry about that.” And you know it’s an apology directly to you, though, in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure what for. “And, um, me too,” he states, his voice soft. “I’m in.”

A collective sigh echoes around the room, like a breath that’s been held has finally released.

“Well that’s settled, we can just get straight to it—” Jungkook says, slapping his thighs and standing up. He gazes around the group while everyone stares back in silence.

Oh. Oh!

Get straight into it meant nothing other than sex. It feels scandalizing in a sense, that the lot of you would just jump right in, no preamble, no introductions — though, in a way, you all have been playing around the edge of foreplay for days now.

And what would follow?

Touch. Kiss. Dampness gathering. Fingers swiped through slick, brought to greedy mouth.

What would the lean muscle in Jin’s shoulder feel like under your fingertips? Would the soft skin of Yoongi’s neck taste the same after all that time? Would Taehyung be the same kind of lover as before, quick-witted and starving for pleasure? And what about the others, the ones who you haven’t touched, haven’t seen bare, haven’t taken within you — what would they be like? Gentle? Greedy?

Who would taste you? Who would want to taste you?

Everyone in this room apparently, and the thought is confirmed by the hungry looks that are passed around the room.

Jin sighs. “Sit down, Jungkook.” JK looks at him with a confused face. “We need to have a conversation first, don’t we?”

Jungkook nods.

“We’ll eat and talk at the same time,” Jin says. “So much for a composed dinner.”

“Jin, you didn’t really believe you were going to get any kind of composure out of this lot, did you?” you chide.

You all gather around the table. Jin and Namjoon take either side of you, the two broad shouldered men squeezing you into your seat. Not that you mind.

The food is already prepped and waiting on the table, like some glorious feast. The table is heaping with food, rice piled high in what must be the house’s finest bowls, and brightly colored vegetables.

Plates are filled with the bounty that Jin and Yoongi had prepared during the day. The piles and piles of food almost seems like too much, but then again you know that nothing goes to waste with this eternally-hungry group. Your gaze roves over the feast: the table is laden with meats and noodles and variations of stir fried vegetables sat among beautiful arrays of autumn squash, both cooked and on display. And at the end of the table sat what you can only describe as an overfilled cream pie.

“Champagne?” Yoongi asks, and the room fills with enthusiastic agreement.

Yoongi stands at the head of the table, a stark reminder of where he sat just yesterday morning, sleepy and propositioning the rest of the group. It feels like it has been years since that moment.

When he twists the champagne bottle open with a dramatic pop!, it feels like a representation of tonight. The tension building, bubbling beneath the surface and ready to explode at any moment. Though as you watch him gracefully pour into several champagne flutes, laughing and chatting with his friends, you realize that even with your communal agreeal, the cork hasn’t loosened yet.

There is more to come. Abundance. Warmth. Like the food on the table. Like the men around you.

Hoseok, under Jin’s guidance, begins to carve the meat. The way he handles the knife, his knuckles tense, and you feel it in your core. As your cheeks warm at the thought, his graceful hands expertly carving, you glance back down at your empty plate, trying to shake your mind of the images that fly through.

Hoseok, his fingers dancing over your back. Hoseok, leaning over you as he slips his hands down your pants, gliding along the delicate skin before plunging—

“Can I get you something?” Hoseok’s voice breaks through your thoughts as he stares at you with a note of concern in his voice. That’s when you realize you’ve been spacing out, mouth hanging open, staring at him.

“Um, yes please.”

Your plate is passed around the table and quickly filled with the help of your friends.

“To… us.” Yoongi raises a glass and you all cheer, warmth spreading through the room as you all smile at one another, reaching across the table to toast each person individually.

“Hey, hey,” Jin says, when you clink his glass. “You know what it means if you don’t make eye contact when cheersing?”

“Hm?”

“It means seven years of bad sex.”

“Oh.”

He holds his glass up again, and you do it properly this time, a sly smile spilling over his lips as he lets his gaze linger on you.

“Though I wonder, if you’re septupling your sexual partners overnight if you might be able to make up for that bad luck in a seventh of the time.” He shrugs. “We’ll leave the math up to the fates.”

As you settle into dinner, a comfortable clatter of eating fills the room. Hums and cries of delight rise from the table as everyone exclaims at the deliciousness of the food.

“Thank you, Jin,” you say, reaching over to pat him on the leg. “And Yoongi,” you raise your glass to your friend at the head of the table.

As everyone settles into dinner, Namjoon is the first one to speak, getting straight to the point. “The first thing we should do,” Namjoon coughs, “Is address the elephant in the room.”

Jin nods. “We can’t keep secrets around each other — we should have privacy in our own lives, yes, absolutely — but this whole sneaking around thing is no good for any sense of trust in our relationship.”

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest. He knows. How could he not, when you nearly told him everything yesterday? You just thought you’d be able to tell everyone that you, Jungkook, and Jimin had been fucking on your terms, not like this. But too, there’s a kind of relief in it finally coming out.

Jungkook hangs his head but doesn’t say anything.

“Anyone?”

A long silence hangs over the group. Jimin catches your gaze from across the table.

“Jungkook? Anything you’d like to share with us?”

The young man’s head snaps up as he takes in the room around him and the weight of all of his friends’ eyes upon him. His body is tense, but he takes a deep breath, and on the exhale, his shoulders fall. “Fine. I admit it,” Jungkook grumbles at a barely audible level. “We’ve been fucking.”

The room explodes.

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fucking?”

Someone’s chair screeches backwards and a glass of wine tips over, staining the white table cloth. Hands dart out quickly to dab it up.

“I thought you were just planning a surprise party?” Someone says.

“I thought this was some kind of flashmob thing?” Hoseok says.

“Me too!” Namjoon chimes in. “That’s, that’s what we talked about.”

“Flashmob?” you snort.

“The sweat, I mean, come on!” Namjoon fades into silence as the realization dawns on him. “Oh. The sweat. The fuck?!”

“How could we not?” Jungkook continues. “Goddamn I hadn’t come in someone coming up on a year and here are two very very attractive—”

“Two?!” Namjoon exclaims.

“Two?!” Yoongi cries. “And you didn’t include me?? And who?”

“Well, we’re including you now!” Jungkook says back.

“Me,” Jimin says softly from his seat.

“Fair enough,” Yoongi says, sitting down again. Hoseok is quiet. Namjoon however, is still wildly flustered.

“And here I was thinking it was the right thing to hold back…” he grumbles.

“You were a perfect gentleman, Joon,” you reassure him. “It’s quite a flattering look on you.” He catches your gaze and flushes at the compliment, looking down at his hands.

“Still, I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

The room quiets as the knowledge and understanding settles on all of you.

You slip your hand underneath the table, letting your palm settle on his knee before gliding up to rest on his thigh. Namjoon looks shocked but composes himself and throws you a sheepish smile. After a moment, his hand drifts down and settles atop yours. Not holding it, just, just resting.

“If anyone cares to know, we were fucking,” Taehyung says, gesturing between himself and his boyfriend.

“Shut up Tae,” everyone echoes.

“But on a more serious note,” Jin cuts in. “Does that information change anything for anyone? That some of us have already been sleeping together?”

You can’t help it. Your gaze flickers to Yoongi. For a moment, you feel like it’s January again, his dark eyes shining at you from across a dark room, a secret shared between the both of you. But you tear your gaze away from him when his flickers up to you.

Everyone is looking at one another, reading for Jin’s question: does this change anything? Yoongi seems unfazed, but beneath it you know he’s curious. Jimin looks cool and collected, lounging on his chair, examining something on his palm. Namjoon looks a little nervous but reflective. Jungkook, waiting. Jin and Tae, playful as ever. And Hobi, well. He seems to be in complete and utter shock.

You wonder what kind of shock. If he’s still reeling from the information that you, Jimin, and Jungkook have been playing the beast with two, well, three backs. Perhaps he’s still processing this whole change in relationship between all of you. Or maybe he’s still in shock from the kiss. You stop yourself there. Either way, he doesn’t look too pleased, staring into his wine glass, unspoken words brewing behind his gaze.

So you give him a minute, shushing Jungkook by nudging him with your foot beneath the table when he starts to say something.

“I guess it doesn’t change anything,” Hoesok says, finally. “We all have pasts. We all have… needs.”

That’s the word. That’s what it feels like, wanting him. It feels like a need. His gaze catches yours and you smile reassuringly. You hope the layer of worry that hides beneath your smile doesn’t show through.

Lost in thought, you’re surprised when Namjoon interlaces your fingers beneath the table. He gives you a little squeeze, as if to say You alright? You squeeze back, throwing him a soft smile, a reply of Better, now.

“The next thing,” Yoongi cuts in. “Before we go any further with this—We need rules.”

“Rules?”

Namjoon’s grip on your hand tightens beneath the table.

“Expectations, understandings. Boundaries.”

“Well the most obvious one: is anyone straight?”

Silence settles in the room.

“Jungkook? I thought you were—”

“Uh no.” Jungkook says sheepishly. “Not, um, anymore.” Anymore? “Quarantine might have changed more than one thing.”

Some of your friends look surprised, while others just nod along, like they expected this the whole time. Taehyung is one of the former, taking the news sincerely and chewing over. But the conversation quickly moves on.

“No blanket consent statements,” Taehyung adds thoughtfully to the conversation.

Yoongi pouts. “Really? None?”

“Only if you’re the one giving them out,” Taehyung corrects. “I don’t know, it just seems too messy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi says, though there’s a note of disappointment in his voice.

“Everything should be negotiated day-of, moment-of. With eight people, there’s too many moving parts.”

You all nod in agreement.

Yoongi takes a long drink of his wine and you watch as his throat moves as he gulps, and as a little bit of the red liquid dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. He swipes it away with his thumb, catches your glance and sends you a wink. You smile and look away quickly.

Jeez. How the hell are you supposed to be doing serious thinking right now when all of your friends somehow look like sex gods doing nothing more normal than eating their dinners?

“Any hard boundaries?” Jimin asks.

“Oh my god please no vore,” Jungkook blurts. Seven pairs of eyes blink back at him. “Please don’t eat me,” he adds softly.

“What kind of deep dark internet hole did you go down? ” Yoongi asks. “That’s even darker than where I go.” Hoseok leans over to Yoongi and you catch a whispered: Where do you go?

Jungkook flushes a deep shade of red before hiding his head in the crook of his arm.

“Quarantine was a long time,” he says, in place of explanation. “And reddit is a vast resource.”

The rest of you share some of your hard limits one by one. There’s the usual: no poop, no punching or kicking, nothing non-consensual. You insist on no anal fisting. There are a couple that surprise you though. When Jin states that he, under no circumstance, will engage in cock and ball torture, Jungkook pipes up and says he’s willing to try it. Hoseok shares that he has never bottomed, but when asked, he says he wouldn’t mind giving it a shot under the right kind of circumstances. Though someone reminds him that that’s a soft limit, the boys exchange glances, as if fighting over who will be the first to top their friend.

The reality is, that at the end of the conversation, there is a broad range of exploratory space between you and your friends. A space so large it nearly frightens you.

That’s when you notice across the table, a shining, waxy red fruit.

“Where on earth did you find pomegranate?” you ask Jin, bewildered.

“I knew it was your favorite.” Jin grins back at you, and Jungkook tosses the red fruit to you from across the table.

“Catch!”

You toss Jin a brilliant smile as the red fruit lands in your hands.

An imperial orb, Jimin had once described it as.

And holding it, you feel the weight of not only its flesh, but its significance. For a moment, the image of Persephone, reaching for the pomegranate flits across your memory. Reaching for the dangling fruit, it was the sweetness that had sealed her fate.

You dig your fingers into the hard skin of the vibrant fruit and—oh—it squirts out, staining the white table cloth and, you quickly realize, your neighbor.

Namjoon has already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, his chest smooth and shining in the candlelight. And now, pomegranate juice drips from his chin, rolling down his neck, about to stain that beautiful white shirt—

“Lick it up,” someone calls, probably Jimin, and before you know what you’re doing, you reach for the broad man, running your tongue first along the hard planes of his chest and trailing up, up, up to his neck. He shivers when your tongue traces his throat, the skin especially sensitive. You smile at that, and he looks down at you, brown eyes gleaming with amusement. And more.

“Me too,” Jin says, and you feel a hand on your back. With regret, you lift your lips from Namjoon’s neck and turn towards him.

Jin has smeared pomegranate across the cut of his chin, and it dribbles down his neck, already staining his collar. But you’re not one to refuse a beautiful man, and so with care—and leaving a hand on one of Namjoon’s thighs—you press your lips to Jin’s neck. The juice stains your lips, turning them a bloodied color.

You take your time kissing up the column of his throat, painting the smallest of caresses against the soft skin of his neck. Unlike Namjoon, he doesn’t tremble beneath your touch. Instead, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. You gasp when you are pressed skin to skin against his chest, your hands reaching to his collar for stability, nearly falling into his lap.

“You can use more than your lips, darling,” Jin murmurs in your ear. “I never did mind a little nibble.” And so with that, you skate your teeth along the hard edge of his jaw, drawing a sharp his from the tall man. You end it with a peck to the corner of his jaw.

When you look back at the table, everyone is staring at you, mouths hanging open.

“That was hot as fuck,” Jimin says, throwing a wink at you.

Jungkook, though, looks a little miffed. The table is dressed with both main courses, side dishes, and desserts, and as Jungkook reaches for a baklava, you realize just how delightful it is to eat sweets with the main course.

He frowns as he takes a bite, honey spilling down his lip. Jimin, next to him, leans over and swipes the golden liquid from the younger man’s pouting lip. Jungkook watches in awe as Jimin sucks the finger into his mouth, a sly grin spreading across his features.

“What else?” Yoongi asks, clearing his throat, and finally all sets of eyes are on him.

“No leaving anyone out,” Jungkook says a little too quickly, glancing at you, Namjoon and Jin. Namjoon beside you is a little stiff and breathing hard. His hand fumbles for you under the table, and finally falls on your knee. You smile up at him.

“How does that work? What does that look like?”

“Say, for example, someone wants to have sex with six out of the seven other people in this house? That just seems like a setup for drama,” Namjoon adds.

“Fair enough,” Jin echoes.

“So no more than five in a group.”

Five. Wow. Five still seems marginally larger than you know how to coordinate.

Jungkook chuckles nefariously. “That means that we could split up, hyungs, maknaes, and—” he waggles his eyebrows as a sign of what he means to fill in the blank with. Group sex, with different iterations of the group. Your stomach tightens in anticipation of the hundreds of different arrangements there might be.

Namjoon and Jin pressing you up against a shelf of books.

Jimin and Taehyung fucking you in the pool.

Yoongi, Jungkook, and Hobi having their way with you on the dinner table. You, spread out like some garnished and carefully prepared delight.

Frankly, the possibilities are endless. And you have a feeling that your day-to-day life might finally surpass the fantasies of your dreams, the ones that have come to haunt you with desire for months now.

Taehyung’s voice breaks through your reverie. “It feels a little unfair that she gets to sleep in Hobi’s bed every night,” he says quickly, his eyes flashing up towards you.

You bristle. “It’s my bed too!” you say before you can consider the implications of what he’s just said. Taehyung wants you in his bed. Again.

“You know what he means,” Jungkook corrects.

“I suppose I could see what he means by that,” Namjoon adds, just a little too casually. You raise an eyebrow at him. You hadn’t pegged him as the jealous type.

“I’ll choose where I sleep,” you say.

“Like a wandering bed ghost,” Yoongi cuts in.

You glare at him. “The other option is that I get my own room. Who’s willing to give theirs up?”

The room falls silent. One person raises their hand.

“Put your hand down, Namjoon,” you sigh. “I’ll be the wandering bed ghost of the Kim manor.”

“Do we have to do a seance to summon you?” Hoseok chirps.

You light up at his humor. It has felt like a long moment since he cracked any jokes.

“You’ll have to sing a mating call,” you joke back.

But the reality of your words finally hits you when no one laughs. Instead you find all of your friends staring back at you, a mixture of shy and blank and yearning expressions splayed across their faces.

In reality, you’ve all just agreed to add a big long mating dance to your friendship and there’s only one thing left to do: dance the dance of the beast with, well, eight backs.

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Congrats on your one month tumblr anniversary!! Could you please do prompts 30 and 49 with tfatws!bucky x reader? Thank you!

♡ Hi! Thank you so much!! I've been taking my time with these requests in hopes of making each of them special, so I appreciate your patience. In this one, Bucky and the reader travel down to Delacroix, Louisiana to meet up with Sam, Sarah, and the boys at a nice vacation rental on the lake. There's road trip vibes and reunion vibes with cute moments sprinkled in throughout. I hope you enjoy!

♡ Prompt 30: "How many of my hoodies have you snatched up at this point, hmm?"

♡ Prompt 49: "I've never noticed these freckles on your back."

♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)

I Can Feel It Too

Moment after moment, the world outside passed by in a colorful blur; everything from cityscapes, to green pastures, to the low, rolling mountains of the Appalachian. Evening had fallen, and the two of you were approximately two hours away from Delacroix. As you gazed out the passenger window, the clouds above appeared to be rosy as the sun crept further towards the horizon. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. You guys had been taking turns driving the entire way.

Upon reaching the halfway point the previous night, the two of you had booked a hotel room to rejuvenate before setting back out for second day of traveling. Despite how endless the journey had grown to seem, nothing beat being on the road with Bucky. Perhaps, it would’ve been easier to hop on a plane, but there was an undeniable intimacy to only having the road and each other for miles on end.

A few weeks prior, Sam had told him that he was going to Louisiana come the end of the month. That’s what sparked the idea of meeting him there. It had been a while since the two men had seen each other, and even longer since Bucky had been around the community he carried so much gratitude for. The people of Delacroix had lifted his spirits and made him feel at home when he needed it the most. So after you and Bucky confirmed that you’d be driving down as well, Sam booked a vacation rental to accommodate everyone.

Looking away from the pink clouds, you began to play with Bucky’s fingers. There were a couple of rings adorning them—rings you had gotten him. You twisted them idly. For the longest time, the only “jewelry” he wore were his dog tags. You insisted that he started wearing other small pieces, so he wore the rings to appease you. They looked good on him. Enough so that he grew to like them himself after a while.

You brought his hand to your lips and kissed over his knuckles. “Love you,” you spoke into his skin.

He briefly looked over at you. “Love you too, doll.”

The sound of the tires spinning against the asphalt eventually lulled you into a dreamless sleep. Bucky no longer had anyone to talk or point things out to, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Especially if it meant that you’d be getting some extra rest. He simply listened to the soft music playing from the stereo and watched the scenery continue to shift. Later, when more marshy bodies of water began to appear alongside the road, it was evident that you two had made it into Delacroix.

When your eyes fluttered open, it was darker than before. The headlights were illuminating a dirt driveway that winded towards a colonial-style home. A few of the curtained windows glowed with warm light coming from the inside. There were also a couple of lights on the porch to prevent the property from looking too dim.

Upon getting closer, Bucky slowed the vehicle to a stop, and cut the engine with a sigh. Then, he looked over at you with a small smile. “We made it,” he said softly.

You returned his smile. “We made it.”

The front door of the house opened when the two of you got out of the car and began stretching. A familiar face appeared, and his voice pierced the symphony of chirping bugs. “Aye! The Brooklyn crew’s here!”

“What’s up, man?” Bucky called back. You gave a happy wave.

Sam jogged over and pulled Bucky into a hug, patting him on the back. Then he wrapped you in a more gentle embrace, giving you a squeeze. He was warm and smelled earthy. The night air was crisp and there was a pleasant stillness to being out in the woods.

Sam shook his head as he looked over the two of you. “It’s been too long.”

“Tell me about it.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Then his gaze turned curious, more genuine. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, man. You know I can’t complain,” he said, nodding along with his words. “How ‘bout you two?”

Bucky pulled you closer to his side. “Never better, thanks to this one.”

“Ditto,” you said. That earned a laugh from them.

“But, for real though,” Bucky continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” You gave a hum of agreement.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Sam said. A couple seconds passed before he clapped his hands together. “Well, let me go ahead and help y’all bring your stuff inside. You guys probably wanna turn in early tonight.” He looked between you and Bucky with a smile. “I know that drive from New York was no joke.”

“It definitely felt like forever,” you agreed, laughing. “But it feels so good to finally be here.”

Sam sighed. “Well, hey. We appreciate you guys for making the trip. It’s gonna be a chill two weeks,” he promised. “Sarah’s making breakfast in the morning and we’re gonna eat out back on the lake. It’s gonna be great.”

Upon entering the house with your bags and suitcases, you and Bucky were greeted by Sarah, AJ, and Cass, who had been awaiting you in the living room. They’d already changed into their pajamas. A loving round of hello’s and hugs were exchanged. In the background, a cartoon show that the boys had been watching ran quietly. The interior of the house was furnished beautifully with neutral tones and pops of bolder colors.

“I’m so glad you two made it in alright,” Sarah said afterwards. “I’ll go ahead and show you which room is yours.”

The bedroom was at the back of the house with a view of the lake. The pale moonlight reflected in the water with a sparkle. Later, after everyone had retreated to their own rooms for the night, and you and Bucky were alone, you gazed out at it. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Isn’t it pretty?” You asked.

“Mhm.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Wait a minute…”

“What?” You turned around to face him. His eyes looked over you.

“Is this mine?” He gently pulled the drawstrings of the dark gray hoodie you were wearing. You had dug it out of your suitcase to ride out the slight chill passing through the house. Someone had set the AC a notch too low.

Bucky didn’t seem to mind the temperature, however. He had yet to pair a shirt with his black basketball shorts.

“It’s yours,” you admitted, giving him a playful bat of your eyelashes.

He cupped your chin with his real hand. “How many of my hoodies have you snatched up at this point, hmm?” You couldn’t help a little laugh. And you were humming a second later when he leaned in to kiss you.

“I don’t know,” you said after he pulled away. “I had to pack at least one of them. They’re cozy and they smell like you.”

“And I bet it’s never gonna find its way back onto my side of the closet.” He tapped your nose.

You grabbed his hand and kissed his finger. “It might.”

“We’ll see about that, pretty girl.” You watched as he went to start pulling back the covers on the bed in preparation for you two going sleep. The comforter was a deep olive that matched the color of the abstract leaf painting that hung over the wooden headboard.

When he finished, he laid horizontally across the bed, letting his head fall lax. “Mmm. It's as comfy as it looks,” he murmured. “M’gonna sleep so good tonight.”

You crawled onto the bed to lay beside him. It was extremely comfortable. When he gave you a tired smile, you propped yourself up and began tracing sweeping lines along his broad back. His muscles relaxed even more beneath your touch. You smiled when your fingers came to a particular place near the bottom of his spine.

“Aww,” you cooed. Bucky lifted his brows. “I’ve never noticed these freckles on your back before.” You brushed your fingertips over the tiny brown spots.

“Surprise,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled wider. “You’re annoying,” you quipped lightheartedly. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a few moments. The sound of the bugs chirping outside was faint but audible. Finally, you said, “Being here is gonna be so much fun. I can already feel it.”

“I can feel it too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #winter soldier #tfaws bucky #fatws bucky #marvel #marvel fic #tfaws fic

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noforkingclue · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Could I request a soulmate fic with a dark!Zemo?

Of course you can! I do love a good soulmate fic! This turned out a lot longer than I was planning so I hope you enjoy it!

Title: No Escape

MCU tag list: @geocookie21, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou

When you opened your eyes you realised that you weren’t in your room. Panic settled in the pit of your stomach and you tried to move but with a sickening realisation you found that you couldn’t. You were locked in your body, in a strange place with no hope of escape. That last fact was solidified when your eyes flicked to the side.

Glass. A thick panel of glass blocked any chance of escape. Guards walked around and occasionally looked into your cell as you tried to struggle free. You closed your eyes and tried to take several deep breaths but this body wasn’t cooperating. When you opened your eyes again you saw it, the thing that replaced the panic with something far, far worse- dread.

You weren’t in your body, a strangers face was reflected in the glass. A sickening smile spread across his face as you realised with increasing horror whose body you were in. Your soulmate, the person you were destined to be with, was a criminal.

“So we finally meet.”

You woke up with a gasp, your sheets soaked in your sweat. On weak legs you stumbled out of bed and turned on your light. You looked at yourself in your mirror and touched your face. You were back in your own body, it was just a nightmare.

“A nightmare? You wound me, my dear.”

A just like that your life changed forever.

The second time you met your soulmate was in a dream. He stalked around you as you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed in your summer pyjamas. He looked you up and down as you avoided eye contact.

“So young,” he said, “What have I done to deserve you?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, “You’re the one in prison. I’m just wondering what I did in a past life to be stuck with you.”

“Don’t be rude,” he stopped in front of you, “You’ll find me more agreeable if you behave.”

“Agreeable,” you looked up sharply, “I don’t even want a soulmate.”

He was handsome, that fact you couldn’t deny. His brown eyes hardened at your words and a hand moved to cup your cheek.

“It would be wise not to test my patience,” he said coldly, “I wouldn’t like our meeting to be soured by your disobedience.”

“Disobedience?” you spat, “I’m a person not a dog.”

He looked at you in amusement but you could see a flash of displeasure run across his eyes. His grip tightened for a second before he quickly let go of you. You stumbled back and almost fell over before you glared back at him.

“How interesting,” he said, “You aren’t afraid.”

“You’re in prison,” you said, “You can’t hurt me.”

“I have no intention of ever hurting you.”

You gritted you teeth as your saw your soulmate again. This time you were out of the prison and walking along the streets of Vienna. You stuck your hands in your pockets as you looked around the city, fond memories emerging as you looked around. You and your ex used to visit the city regularly.

“I would appreciate it if you did not think of other men.”

You spun around and saw him sitting down by a café. He took a sip from his coffee and pointed to the seat opposite him. After a moment’s hesitation you reluctantly took the seat.

“You can’t control my thoughts,” you said, “What are you, the thought police.”

He just gave you a sharp smile before turning back to his coffee.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “You mind is a much more pleasant place than mine. I’m going to enjoy visiting it more often.”

“Unlikely.”

“You think those books you’ve been reading will prevent me?”

“How did-“

“We’re soulmates,” he said, “Our minds are linked.”

“Then why can’t I see into yours? Why can’t I see your memories?”

He gave you a soft smile and for some reason you found it oddly sad. You shifted in your seat and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You also can’t prevent me from thinking about people I cared about,” you said bitterly, “You’re older than me. Surely you hadn’t been saving yourself for your soulmate.”

You didn’t expect your words to have had any effect of him. You heard the clink of the coffee cup being put down before a strong hand reach over and grabbed your arm. You let out a cry as you were yanked to your feet and pulled roughly against his chest. You raised a hand to try and free yourself but it was no use.

“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” he warned quietly, “Or when I finally have you I won’t be gentle.”

“You’ll never have me,” you spat, “You’re in prison.”

“We’ll just have to see about that then won’t we?”

“You know,” you leant against the wall as you looked out at the prison, “I don’t even know your name.”

This caused your soulmate to look up at you curiously.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Why, have you forgotten?”

“Helmut Zemo.” He said

“Y/n l/n.” you said

Zemo looked at you over the top of his book before looking away again. You just clicked you tongue in annoyance before walking around.

“Did I say you can leave?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Zemo moved and tapped the space next to him on the bed. You just snorted and shook your head.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? You’re going to have to get used to me once I finally have you in my arms.”

“Like that’ll happen any time soon.”

Zemo’s smile sent chills down your spin but you still refused to move. He stood up slowly and closed his book as he walked towards you. You stood your ground and held your head up high as he stopped directly in front of you. Even though this was just a dream you were becoming increasingly uneasy under his intense stare. This time you were in his dream so you knew that you couldn’t escape until he woke up.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “As long as you behave you’ll find our time together most pleasurable.”

“And if I don’t behave.”

“Well than,” he smiled, “I’m going to have fun breaking you in.”

“I had a wife.”

You looked over at Zemo in shock. He was looking outside your bedroom window and you had a feeling that he was deliberately avoiding your gaze.

“And a son.” He continued

“Had?”

“They’re gone.”

“Gone?”

“They were killed.”

“Oh,” you swung your legs off of your bed, “I’m sorry.”

Zemo looked over at you, a sad smile on his face. You looked at him but quickly averted your gaze. You could see the pain and love for them etched in his face. You weren’t jealous, that was his wife and child that he was telling you about. You couldn’t replace the love he held for them, soulmate or not.

“You mean that,” he said, “You genuinely mean that.”

“Of course.”

“Even though we are destined to be together.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You will.”

You shook your head. You had no desire of ever getting to know Zemo and his eyes narrowed at your thoughts. You felt awkward having him inside your room even if this was just a dream. You were thankful that the view from your windows was just a white space. You didn’t want to give him any more clues on where you lived. If you did you might have to move.

“I’ll find you.”

“Huh?”

“Whether you go I will find you. I’ve already lost one woman I loved I do not plan on losing you.”

“I cannot and will not replace your wife.”

“You’re not going to have a choice.”

You stood up quickly and marched towards him. Zemo looked up calmly at you, a sharp contrast to the rage coursing through your veins.

“I’ll fight you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“And you’re still going through with this? Why?”

“Because,” Zemo stood up, “You are mine. You will be mine. I have no desire to break you but if you continue to resist me,” he leant towards you, “You’ll give me no choice.”

Before you had a chance to answer Zemo cupped your face and pressed a gently kiss against your lips. It was a brief kiss but you felt the intention behind it. The dark promise that you’ll never escape, his true plans for you and the certainty that one day he was going to escape and then there’ll be no place for you to run.

“Soon my dear,” he said as he rested his forehead against you, “We’re going to be very happy.”

You should’ve seen this coming. Ever since Zemo kissed you in your dream his had become a lot bolder. He openly stared at you, touched your more and always kissed you. He was never rough with you, he was always a gentleman, but tonight his demeanour changed.

As soon as you appeared in his dream he had grabbed your shoulders and pressed you against the wall of the grand house. You barely had a chance to look around before he had pulled you into a bruising kiss. You let out a gasp of surprise which allowed him to utterly dominate the kiss, harshly biting your lips when you tried to resist. Eventually he broke the kiss, the two of you gasping for air.

“Do you know how hard it’s been to resist you,” he said, “Seeing you in my dreams, my soulmate, so close and yet so far away. I’ve been patient for you to come around and now I need you.”

“Zemo, wait-“

“I’ve been waiting,” he said, “I’ve been waiting for long enough. Please don’t make it any harder.”

He hands grasped your wrists and pinned then next to your head as he delved back in. He was a skilled kisser and you found it harder and harder to resist. You felt him smile against your lips as he stepped in closer, trapping you firmly against the wall and his body. You moaned softly as you felt yourself melt against him.

“That’s it,” Zemo said as he broke the kiss, “Give in and I will give you everything.”

You whimpered softly as he trailed kisses down your neck before one again capturing you in a dizzyingly gently kiss. He let go of your wrists and held your hips in place. If wasn’t until he grinded his hips against yours that you realised the position you were in. Without hesitation you bit Zemo’s tongue causing him to let out a cry of shock and jump away. You slipped out from under his arms and took off running down the halls. You heard Zemo’s laugh echo after you. You weren’t going to give in.

“Do you think you can hide?” he asked, “In my house? I look forward to our games of cat and mouse. Although I should warn you, I rarely lose.”

You turned a corner and came face to face with a long corridor. You tried to open some of the doors but to your increasing dread they were all locked. You heard soft whistling follow you and you became increasingly desperate to try and find a place to hide. The soft click of shoes at the end of the corridor showed you that the game was up sooner than you wanted. You looked over your shoulder and Zemo just shook his head in disappointment.

“This is my dream,” he said, “I have control here and, if you don’t behave yourself, when you’re eventually mine.”

He walked towards you and you looked around for a place to run to. Zemo gave you a pitying look and when he was directly in front of you trailed a hand down your cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you. I should’ve remembered that you are so young. Forgive me?”

He pressed a kiss against your shoulder as he pressed you against the door.

“I’ll be patient,” he said, “It won’t be long now until I can hold you properly.”

You woke up with a gasp, your sheets soaked in your sweat. Rain pounded against your window and you ran a hand through your hair. Another dream about Zemo but this time it wasn’t your typical soulmate dream. It unnerved you, you hadn’t had a dream with him in several weeks and you were becoming nervous. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness then you saw it, the figure by the door. For a moment time stood still then you both lunged at the same time.

“Go effort,” said a smooth voice, “But not quick enough.”

Zemo held your wrists in one hand as he switched on your bedside lamp with his other. He was just as handsome in real life as he was in your dreams. He smiled down at you as he took your position in. You felt the blush creep up your neck. He sighed and rest his head against your shoulder.

“I told you it wouldn’t be long. Have you missed me?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Hmm.”

He looked up at you as his gaze darkened.

“Now then,” he said, “Shall we continue from where we left off? I don’t like leaving things half finished.”

#fanfiction #mcu #fatws #reader insert #request #dark!zemo #dark!zemo x reader #zemo #zemo x reader #dark

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whumperooni · 4 years ago

Note

Hii!! If you're up for it, could you write something about Katsuki-nii? I just wanna be his wittle wife, stealing his clothes, being bred full of his cum, constantly hanging of his arm and talking about how much I love him. People might think we're too close for siblings, but they know better than to say anything, just like i know better than to be anything but Katsuki-nii's good little sister-wife.👉👈💕

Despite being one of my favorite characters, I haven’t written Katsuki before so please be gentle! o( _ _ )o

tags/warnings: tw incest, a smidge of jealousy and possessiveness and insecurity, aged up characters

You hear the whispers. You always do.

“She’s here again?”

“What kind of adult woman still makes lunch for her older brother?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird? I mean...why is she always over him like that? And the way she dresses...it’s like...”

“Don’t they live with each other? That’s a bit strange, right?”

They whisper. They whisper, but they never really give voice to the uncomfortable thoughts and suspicions clouding their minds and filling their drum, dull days with the scandals they crave.

They whisper and you? You don’t listen.

You don’t need to listen- they don’t matter, their opinions don’t matter, the stares and gossip and mindless speculation don’t matter.

The only person who matters is Katsuki and, to a lesser degree, yourself.

Why should you care about others when your shining light- your sun, your heart, your darling big brother- is there to eclipse them with all his love and adoration?

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Don’t you think they’re a little too close?”

More whispers, more gossip, more nosy busybodies trying to forget their own troubles by trying to bury themselves in you and your brother’s life.

It’s sad, really.

You ignore the raised brows and mouths hidden by hands and snuggle a little closer to your nii-san. He rolls his eyes, huffs, but his arm wraps around your waist a bit more firmly and his hand squeezes your waist, his fingers dig into your hip with a little flex.

“Nii-san, should I make curry or yakisoba tonight?”

“Mabo Dofu.”

You hum and you nod, mentally tack on the chore of going to the grocery store after you’re done here. You need to pick up his dry cleaning, too, and you need to remember to press Katsuki’s suit for his meeting with the hero commission in the morning.

Oh, and you need to lay out your dress for the dinner with the Todoroki’s tomorrow night.

Ah, tomorrow is going to be busy.

“Oh my gosh is that Dynamight?!”

Fingers dig into your hip again and you know that your big brother is irritated without having to look. He’s tired today- annoyed- and you know that the squealing call of a fangirl is not exactly what he wants to hear.

Poor nii-san- it must be tough having to deal with so much attention sometimes.

(Though, he does deserve the attention- he’s such a good hero; strong and handsome and eye catching without even having to try.

He’s perfect.)

“Dynamight! Dynamight! Will you sign my planner?!”

Two girls pop up right in front of- eyes sparkling and wonder on their faces, their proximity much too close. They don’t seem to notice you at first, but that’s okay- nii-san is the one who deserves the attention after all.

“Oh my gosh, I just love you so much! You’re so- oh.”

Ah, and now there’s disappointment on both their faces- expressions falling and pouts pushing rouged lips out, something almost irritated crossing over them.

Again, that’s okay- you’re used to it.

One of them- clearly the bolder of the two- eyes you without restraint. Her head cocks and her arms fold across her chest, her brows furrow.

“Is this- I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Oh, that’s cute.

You’re much more than a girlfriend.

Before your big brother’s temper can snap, you fix a sweet smile on your face- head resting on Katsuki’s shoulder and a giggle slipping from you.

“Oh, no- I’m his sister!”

“Sister...?” the other one asks, brows knitting together to match her friend’s.

Her eyes dart to the strong arm keeping you firmly against your big brother and you let your smile grow when she looks back up at you, give her a nod.

“Yep! Dynamight’s one and only little sister,” you chirp.

Katsuki snorts and you have to stifle a giggle when the girls exchange a look between them. Before they can say anything else, you nudge your big brother- smile softening when you feel him pull you just a little bit closer.

“Katsuki, sign her planner!” you urge him. You smile at the girl who hadn’t asked for any autographs and she seems to startle a little, flush whenever you prompt her with, “Do you have anything you want signed?”

She hesitates before giving a small nod and you watch as she starts digging around in her purse, detach yourself gently from your brother so he can carry out his duty to his fans.

He does so, with some grumbles and huffs, and the girls are aware enough not to push for a photo- scurry away with eyes lit up once again and excited squeals leaving them. You watch them with a smile and then reward your brother with a kiss to his cheek.

That gets him relaxing, just slightly, but you make a mental note of being extra attentive to him once he gets home from work.

“Nii-san,” you murmur, “I’m going to head off, okay? I need to pick up groceries.”

“Fine,” he grunts. “Just make sure to get some sansho.”

“I know, nii-san,” you huff, fondly. Another press of your lips to his cheek and then you squeeze his hand, smile at him with all the warm love you have. “I love you.”

“...love you.”

It’s rough, quiet, but it still has you beaming all the same.

You flounce off to run your errands- mind swirling with all the ways you can make your big brother happy.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

It’s not too big of a surprise whenever you run into Sero at the store- he works in the same city as your big brother and you do run into him every once in a while.

What is a surprise is the way he rubs his neck sheepishly in the middle of chatting, when he smiles at you with a spark of hope in his eyes and a nervousness you’re not quite used to from him.

“Hey, I was wondering- are you free on Saturday? I thought maybe we could grab dinner or something...”

Your head tilts and you blink at him- surprised by the question.

Is he asking you out on a date?

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sero- on Saturday Katsuki and I are going to the movies. And we have a lunch with Kirishima planned.”

For a moment, Sero looks a little dejected. But then he’s smiling again and nodding.

“Oh, yeah, I get that. What about Sunday?” he asks- persistent but not quite pushy.

You smile at him and it’s guilty, a little apologetic.

Sero is nice. Friendly. You’re sure he’d make for a great date.

Maybe in another life...

No, in another life you’d still find your way back to Katsuki.

You shake your head, fingers flexing on your shopping cart and your expression softens even when his own smile wanes.

“Sunday we’re having lunch with the family. And Katsuki promised he’d take me shopping...”

“Ah...”

It’s quiet for a moment, awkward. Sero scratches his cheek and he forces his lips back up, rubs the back of his neck again in a way that seems a little...frustrated.

“You, uh, you spend a lot of time with your brother,” he says, words coming out in a near mumble. “Don’t you ever have time to yourself? Time for a boyfriend or anything?”

A boyfriend?

You almost huff, but you just smile instead- big and sweet as you shake your head with a soft laugh.

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have my nii-chan?”

And, with that, Sero’s face falls completely- features distorting with something that you can’t quite name, something that almost almost has you feeling ashamed.

“Right...”

More awkwardness after that. Sero makes his excuses to leave and he detracts himself- a frown on his face as he leaves you all alone with your shopping cart and a faint, quiet sadness that you quickly push away.

You shake your head and clear your thoughts, look down at your shopping list.

Right, you still need to get the sansho. And you should pick up some beer for Katsuki, too.

With a hum, you continue your shopping- the exchange forgotten for thoughts of domesticity and all the plans you have with your big brother instead.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Fuck.”

Your lips quirk into a smile at Katsuki’s groan and you wander over to him with a beer in hand, press a doting kiss to his cheek before sliding into his lap.

“Long day?” you ask in a murmur, hands running over his chest.

You get a grunt in response- Katsuki’s head lolling back with another groan whenever your hands begin to knead at his shoulders, soothe tight knots.

“Fuckin’ reporters got the jump on me,” he huffs. “And goddamn Deku wouldn’t stop talkin’ to ‘em.”

You make a sympathetic little noise and run a hand up until you can stroke your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. Something close to a sigh leaves him when you begin to massage there and you feel your heart melting a little as you watch the tension so very slowly begin to bleed from him.

“I’m sorry, nii-san,” you tell him- sincere, voice soft. “That sounds like a pain.”

Another grunt and you hum, drape your arms over your big brother’s shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You need to relax, nii-san,” you mumble, pressing closer when his hands grip your waist. “I wanna help...”

“Then help.”

It comes out as a growl and you shiver from it, rock yourself against your big brother and slot your lips against his.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

You blink and look over your shoulder at your big brother, look down at your dress.

It’s simple- form fitting, yes, but not overly tight. A pretty dress with pretty flaring pleats and a cute sweetheart neckline, heels and stockings to match. You’re wearing one of the necklaces Katsuki has bought you- a copper choker with an o-ring in the middle, tiny and shining rubies dotting along the copper band.

It’s one of your favorites- something he had bought you when he first started the agency. The dress is new, but it’s a favorite, too.

“You don’t like it?” you ask him, frowning just a tiny bit.

Katsuki huffs and he walks over to you, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head with a scowl.

“I like it,” he grumbles. “I’m sure Icyhot will like it too.”

Ah, now you see what the problem is.

A sigh leaves you and you gently place your hands over his, look him over in the mirror.

Slacks, a button up that’s not quite buttoned up. Simple and not his style, but something that makes him look so very handsome. You love it when he’s dressed up a little and you know that he likes it when you dress up, too.

“Nii-san,” you murmur. “I don’t care if Shoto likes it or not- I only care if you do.”

It’s true- it really is.

The words have Katsuki’s scowl softening, just a little, and you turn your head so you can press a kiss to his jawline, hum whenever he tilts his head back so you can lay another on his neck.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he huffs- still so grumpy, his arms tightening around you. “Don’t like the way fuckin’ Natsuo looks at you either.”

“Katsuki...”

You turn around before he can grumble any more and you cup his face, kiss him and try to show him just how much you care for him and no one else.

“Nii-san,” you tell him, soft and adoring and sincere as can be, “it doesn’t matter if they look at me. I don’t care. I love you. You’re all that matters to me.”

Katsuki’s expression flickers with something fond, with something near vulnerable. It’s gone in a second, though, and then you’re backed against the wall, your brother’s lips are meeting yours.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against you, fingers digging into your hips and your dress bunching up underneath them. “Mine.”

His lips find your neck and you’re left mewling, clinging to him and rocking against a thick thigh whenever he slips it between yours.

“Yours,” you gasp out- Katsuki’s teeth nipping at you, his hands dragging you up and down his leg. “I’m- oh- I’m all yours!”

Katsuki grunts and then one of his hands are gone, then there’s the sound of a zipper being pulled down. He lifts you and you moan at the display of strength, wrap your legs around him when his cock ruts against you. It takes just a quick second for him to push your panties to the side and you shudder when you feel him pressing against your entrance, cling to him and claw your nails into his back.

“So fucking wet.”

You are- you really are. How can you not be when you’re held up like this- your big brother lifting you like you weigh nothing, vermilion gaze burning as he takes in how quick your cheeks flushed and how fast your face falls needy and hazy? How can you not be when he looks at you as if you’re everything- a beautiful bounty, a delicious treat, a darling little sister, a perfect wife?

“Please, nii-san,” you mewl, beg. “Please- I need you!”

A growl and then your big brother is sliding into you- stretching you open with his big cock and making you moan, whine his name.

“Gonna fuckin’- shit- gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he grunts- no time wasted as he starts to thrust, sends your head spinning as he fucks you against the wall. “Fill up my girl’s cunt.”

It’s a promise as strong and sure as anything. You whimper, nod, and press a needy, clumsy kiss to his lips, clench around his cock at the thought.

“Gonna rip off these panties,” he growls- near snarls. “Fuckin’ drip my cum all over the Todoroki’s house- show them who you belong to!”

Oh, fuck.

The thought of that has you keening and you nod along to the words, gasp and hold onto him desperately as heat sears through you- as overwhelming pleasure has you choking up, almost sobbing.

“Yes! Nii-san, please! I’m- please- show them-”

Katsuki moans and it’s hot against your neck, broken up by an open mouthed kiss and his lips sucking a deep bruise over your flesh. You start to come- lashes fluttering and a sob slipping past your lips- and his teeth dig in deeper to your throat, the snapping of his hips gets faster, harder.

“Good- fuck- good girl. My good girl- comin’ on nii-san’s cock like a good lil slut- you’re so fuckin’- shit- say you’re- say you’re-”

“I’m yours, nii-san! Yours! Yours! I love you!”

A growl, a groan, a slam of his hips and then Katsuki is coming coming coming- filling you up to the brim and over it. You’re pushed over the edge and then you’re coming with him- mewling and clawing at him, pressing desperate and frantic kisses to him.

You only stop when his hips slow down, when he’s finished humping his seed into you. You’re both left panting then- his forehead pressed against yours and his cock softening inside of you, his eyes muddied and soft as they look over your dreamy, fucked out expression.

He slips out of you and he sets you on your feet- big hands landing on your waist to keep you steady and his lips finding yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Katsuki straightens your dress for you and he swipes smeared mascara out from under your eyes, presses a kiss to your forehead and has you sighing, letting out a soft and sweet noise of contentment.

“Mmm, I love you, nii-san...I love you so much...”

Katsuki huffs and he kisses you again- hand cupping your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek and you’re graced with a mumble in return- a quiet little “I love you too.”

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

Twenty minutes later you’re sitting in the Todoroki’s living room- your big brother’s arm thrown over your shoulder, your panties stuffed in his pocket, his cum drying on your thighs and the last of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt as you sit there and smile, lean against Katsuki.

You love your brother, you do.

You’ll always love your brother. You’ll always be his.

#rooni's shit #tw incest #i think i made him too soft but oh well #Anonymous

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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

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PARINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x Prostitute! Female! Reader

CW: yandere, noncon, degradation, choking, somno? somno, prostitutes, unprepared sex, shigaraki has a FAT crush on mirko and decided he needed to take it out on you

AN: my first shiggy fic! please mind the tags and enjoy <3

For @tomurasprincess Shigaraki Birthday Celebration Collab! enjoy bb <33

Turning 21 and still being a virgin? It was pathetic, really. His birthday was not something he was used to celebrating; there were more important things for him to divert his attention to than a petty holiday. It was just another part of society that needed to be eliminated.

But, damn it all, if Dabi wouldn’t stop pestering him about “letting off steam” down on some street corner.

“I already told you, I don’t want some cheap hooker that’s gonna squeal on us.” Tomura sighed, scratching at his neck with a frustrated vigor. “Take Giran with you if you’re that desperate. Hell, Twice might even go too.”

But Dabi didn’t budge. “I’m not doing this for me, boss. It’ll be good to stop being so pent up and pissy.”

His grin was wide and toothy. Tch, of course, this was some kind of game to him. The bastard probably wanted to see how long he would last his first time, which even he knew wouldn’t be too long. Not that he would admit that out loud, least of all to the man sitting across from him at the bar.

“I am not pent up and pissy. I’ll go as long as you’re the one paying.”

“No sweat off my back, boss. I'll take you somewhere nice. Kurogiri said it's where your old man used to go to relax.”

———

The man wasn't lying when he said the place was nice. It was too nice. Made is his skin crawl to see so much money being thrown around so carelessly. They were all disgusting, sniveling pigs who would all bow to him one day, so he paid them no mind as they passed the whores around as quick as they would a used napkin.

“See, told ya I was takin’ you somewhere nice. So pick someone you like and a room to, uh, get to know them in. I'm off.” With that, Dabi stalked off to find his own kill for the night.

But how could Tomura choose just one? There were so many choices. Women, men, those who blurred the gender lines, mutants, both pretty and ugly. But hey, everyone’s got a fetish nowadays. The elaborate costumes and lingerie they wore meant nothing to him; it would just get in the way.

His eyes scanned the room before he did a double-take over the hero section. Heroes were popular, but Christ, would people be so depraved and desperate they would pay to stick themselves in a fake one just to bust? Apparently he was one of those people tonight. When he saw those bunny ears and that bodysuit, Tomura Shigaraki was done for.

A pink flush dusted his cheeks as he approved the vixen, the imitation of the woman of his dreams, more specifically, you dressed in a Mirko cosplay, tail and all. It was naturally unrequited feelings, but damn if his cock didn't get hard at the sight of Rumi viciously tearing through villains like they weren’t even human. She would make a fine one herself. Ah, but only in his fantasies. Or so he thought until tonight.

Lanky, bone dry fingers make their way around your wrist to yank you up out of your seat. Your eyelash had bat up at him as he had walked over, his attraction towards you was obvious. But he wasn't here to play games, so your coquettish flirting did nothing but make him cringe.

“Come on, little bunny.” He tugged you along to a private room. “We’re going to play together.”

Tomura was undoubtedly more excited than when he first entered the brothel. He sat down on the room's velvet couch and spread his legs, patting his bony left thigh.

“Sit. I don't like to repeat myself, so don't make me.”

You sauntered over to him, giving a slow walk to build than anticipation, but he wasn't feeling patient tonight. Tch, hero slut thinking you impress him? You were nothing but a hole for him to corrupt.

Four fingers brought you to his lap roughly, migrating to your neck for good measure.

“Do you know who I am, Mirko?”

Was he delusional? Not really.

Possibly.

Definitely.

But that wasn't the issue at hand.

A meek “no, sir” stuttered out from your bulging eyes and reddened face as he squeezed with bitterness he didn't know he had.

“No? The number five doesn't know who I am?”

It was true then, he was just scum under her shoes. Who was he kidding? That damn rabbit bitch would kill him without a second thought.

“You think you’re so high and might don't you, hero?” He sneered venomously, tightening his grip while your arms weakly hit him. Good, he liked a challenge. “Looks like you need to be put in your place, bunny bitch.”

Your thrashing did nothing to quell his frustrated growls and huffs as he pulled the thong of the cheap bodysuit to the side—no point in disintegrating the whole thing. God, he couldn't wait to get his cock stuffed to the hilt inside you. His hard cock sprung free from his sweatpants as he pulled up the hood to his black sweatshirt.

The scene was already set in his head, a camera pointed directly at her as he corrupted her hero pussy for all of Japan to see what a whore their number five was. Unfortunately, you would have to do, alone with him in the dank room of the brothel.

God, you were just ruining everything weren't you? You hardly looked like her at all, especially with all that crying and squealing. She would never be so pathetic.

“Shut the fuck up; I’ll give you something to cry about.”

With that, he sheathed himself inside of your unprepared pussy. Oh fuck, did your walls clamp down on him perfectly. At least you were good for something.

Tomura wanted it to hurt, relishing in the screams you let out as he inched his way into your resistant cunt.

“Yeah, that's right. Scream for my cock. It's stretching you out nice and good, isn't it?”

He only got a sob as a response.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Ah, an enthusiastic yes. Maybe you weren't such a bad substitute after all. Heavy balls pressed snuggly against your skin as he fought the urge to cum so soon after violating you. The thought of one day being balls deep in Mirko almost sent him over the edge, but looking at your tear-stricken, choked-out expression lulled him back. Ugh, that definitely would keep him busting on the spot.

His pace was brutal as he snapped his hips into yours, snarling and growling all the way.

“You think you're too good for me, Rumi? Think you're hot shit? You're nothing but a breeding bunny for me.”

Your cunt felt heavenly clenching around him, he noticed that the harder he choked you, you squeezed his coco tighter. He quite liked the sound of your crying and pleading for him to stop, it was almost cute. Keyword being almost.

Now he's not one for pain, but damn if they sting on his thighs from slapping against your skin didn't feel just incredible. He has a fleeting thought to wonder how you're feeling, but he supposed it didn’t matter all that much. It was your job to please him, right?

“Cum on this fucking villain cock, Rumi. Show the world you're nothing more than a villain’s whore.”

It was his turn to cry, more so out of frustration as he used your body like a fleshlight, pounding into your now wet cunt mercilessly. God, if this didn't hurt knowing he'd never have her. But you seemed to do the job just fine.

The tail on the back of your bodysuit was bouncing and jumping with his thrust. What he would give just to be able to grab the real thing and hear her squeals of Tomura, more, more!

At some point, you had lost consciousness, and he couldn't find it in himself to care as he continued to chase his pleasure. He moaned louder and bolder now that you were out cold, hell, he even whined a few times. Not that anyone was around, or awake, to hear him.

He couldn't help but sob as he creamed your unresponsive cunt, hunching over your limp body and nuzzling his face into the faux ears you wore. Tomura could imagine how soft the real deal would be as they talked after, saying everything and nothing all at once.

Although it seemed it would be nothing as you were still limp and flushed under his arms. At least you were breathing and had a pulse.

Cleaning himself up, he stuffed a couple of dirty dollars into your still dripping cunt and stalked out of the room.

He’d definitely come back for round two.

#yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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transformsx · 2 years ago

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ʺ BONNIE WINTERBOTTOM ︰ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 .

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @magizian 🫶🏻

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: whoever won’t kick my ass for tagging them in something so long?

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟷 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

NAME : her middle name is jean, if that’s what you’re digging for. not too exciting once you’ve already heard her last name.

EYE COLOR : dark, dark brown. in a lot of lights the iris and pupil just kind of blend and they’ll seem to be pure black.

HAIR STYLE / COLOR : naturally it’s probably best described as light brown, but it’s been dyed blonde since she was about thirty. it progresses from a bob in s1 of the show to like, a pixie cut ‘currently’. it’s very straight and very thick.

HEIGHT : she’s 5′4″ (barely), but if we’re anywhere near the show timeline she’s in heels pretty much always.

CLOTHING STYLE : pant suit in single color (usually bolder, the older she gets). button-up blouse with some crazy print on it. comfy, at home. owns more grandpa cardigans and pj bottoms than most of us will ever see in our lifetimes.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE : her eyes (huge) / lashes (miles), probably. invented being bambi. her skin is also so flawless It Makes Me Sick, but there’s nothing especially noteworthy about the tone or whatever.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟸 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

FEARS : [enneagram vc] Losing Her Support And Stability. also, just in general, anything bad ever happening to anyone she loves that she cannot personally stop in its tracks. and she is a self-proclaimed hypochondriac.

GUILTY PLEASURE : she pretty much thinks enjoying anything is a guilty pleasure. nobody is supposed to know she smokes, though, so probably that, if we’re playing by the rules here.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE : incompetence lol she’s VERY patient in the sense of like, waiting for things to happen, but she can deal with people being bad at their jobs for about two minutes before she just starts doing it herself

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE : retirement. god bless. she wants a family but her boyfriends keep dying and it’s usually kind of her fault if we’re being honest [my actual ‘canon’ is kinder to her but where’s the fun in joking about that]

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟹 : 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP : 1. still here? 2. damn. 3. phone. Where Phone. did anybody have a near death experience while i was sleeping that they personally requested i attend? no? okay. good. 4. what do you mean i have 88 unread text messages and 81 of them came from someone texting me from inside my house 5. [screaming] 6. coooffeeeee

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST : like that list is hard to deduce for anyone who has seen like 6 episodes of htgawm. but also, what her next trauma haircut will be

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED : not shit, baby. she just drinks her bourbon and passes the hell out. she sleeps like a rock.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS : not being a rich guy

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟺 : 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES : you say that like she’s ever been on an actual ‘date’ in her whole life (but single) (you wouldn’t wanna try a group date even if you’re literally all in a poly ship)

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED : um

BEAUTY OR BRAINS : she definitely has her preferences but, she could date somebody she didn’t find Beautiful. she could not date somebody she thought was an idiot. except for that one time

DOGS OR CATS : you’ve met her

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟻 : 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

LIE : astonishingly well? yeah. it’s always intentional, though --- which is to say, if she’s not in the right mind space when she tries, she’ll get flustered (but this only happens when she is very, very comfortable with you).

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES : she’s not unreasonable. she’s pretty aware of what she is and isn’t good at / what she can and can’t change. she gets self-conscious, but she doesn’t stay that way. that said, she will always have an inferiority complex in literally any situation where she feels like she’s being #competed with romantically, so you can imagine the stress she is under

BELIEVE IN LOVE : does she believe in anything else lol DON’T tell her i said that

WANT SOMEONE : it’s kind of her thing. yearning. look up the verb ‘to yearn’ and she will just be there like HEATHCLIFF, IT’S ME, I’M CATHY, I’VE COME HO-O-O-OOOOME and it’s like. a renewable resource. she just keeps being like that

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟼 : 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…

BEEN ON STAGE : most certainly not

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN : i mean, she’s tried before, but she’s [her vc] a grown-ass woman

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟽 : 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.

FAVORITE COLOR : blue

FAVORITE ANIMAL : butterfly. no use for real animals but if you made her go to a zoo she would probably pick something stupid-looking like a penguin

FAVORITE BOOK : she can’t read. she works 26 hours a day

FAVORITE GAME : the american legal system. she’s canonically great at pool

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟾 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE : 30 june.

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE : she’d be 38 if these things worked that way

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟿 : 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

I LOVE : coffee

I FEEL : not caffeinated enough

I HIDE : alcohol from annalise, so i can drink it myself and be a good wife at the same time

I MISS : getting away with it without those meddling kids

I WISH : she’s not that fun. she’s an istj

#study.

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 4 years ago

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Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!

Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”

Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission.

Calculated Risk

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: None, I don’t think!

“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.

“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him.

“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.

“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.

“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”

“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.

“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.

“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.

Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics.

“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.

“Well-”

“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.

“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.

“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.

“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.

“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.

“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.

“What?”

“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.

“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.

“You’re telling me that?” You ask.

“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.

“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.

~+~

Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down.

As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.

You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew.

You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.

“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.

“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.

“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.

He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.

“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.

“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.

It’s only a moment later when you speak again.

“Bend down,” You tell him.

“What?”

“Bend down.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.

“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.

“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.

“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.

“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.

“...Touché.”

~+~

Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.

“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.

He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.

“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended.

“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.

“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.

“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.

“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?”

“I didn’t need the help-”

“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.”

“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”

You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.

“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.

“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.

“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.

“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.

“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.

But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.

“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.

“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.

You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.

“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that.

“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist.

Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.

“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.

“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.

“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.

“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.

Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.

Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.

~~~~~

Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin fic #anakin fluff #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x reader fic

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honeytea8 · 4 years ago

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✨✨La Squadra Boyfriend Headcanons✨✨

[Alexa, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush]

Guys, I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about La Squadra, so here are some bf headcanons for the sexiest group of assassins in Naples. No one asked but I am bringing it straight to your dash anyway! (under the cut for length lmao)

I’m going to start with Prosciutto, who has recently fallen on my radar pretty heavy!

He’s a good and decent boyfriend, if not a busy one. Not that he doesn’t care about the relationship, but most of his energy was going to Passione things before you waltzed in and so he’ll struggle a bit between his work responsibilities and maintaining his relationship with you, but only in the beginning.

If you are also a part of Passione, it’s a hell of a lot easier to manage.

I see Prosciutto as the gift-giving type: lingerie, sweets, perfume, designers, etc. His salary isn’t the best, but he manages it as well as he can just to accommodate you!

I just can’t get the idea out of my head that Pro was raised by a strict mama, that’s why he can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He’ll catch you still lounging in bed at nine am, and be like “Why are you still in bed? Get dressed, we’re going out.” Dude!

I’m sorry to say, but Prosciutto is absolutely the ‘lecturing’ type. (He lectured someone in nearly every scene in the anime, Formaggio once and Pesci numerously and Bucci too)

He will lecture you when you make mistakes, especially because as his s/o, he has high expectations for you and believes you’re capable of so much more. It’s never, ever out of hate. He loves you, and that’s why he chides you a bit lol.

This does not negate the fact that he doesn't mind when you lean on him for support. He likes when you count on him, because he always comes through especially for you!

Depending on whether you’re in the mafia or not, I totally see him sparring with you, or working out with you in an effort to make you tough. Prosciutto wants you to be able to defend yourself, just in case. If you complain, he’ll tell you, “Better safe than sorry, tesoro”.

Prosciutto will respect you, period.

A good listener, goddamn! He’s up there with Risotto when it comes to who listens to their s/o more! If you have an issue, he’ll hear you out and offer advice if you want it. If you give him advice, he’ll take it into serious consideration. He’s honestly a good partner, can’t stress that enough.

Finally, sex with Pro is an entire event. Romantic dinner, candles lit, wine, the whole nine yards before he gives you nine inches of something else :) (I’m kidding!! Lmao, kinda).

But as I said, Prosciutto is quite deliberate, and a bit of a perfectionist. He knows what to do and how to do it, you can trust him.

Ghiaccio is next only because he’s my favorite.

The ice gremlin is probably the most interesting (and hilarious) boyfriend out of the bunch (I say this with only a tidbit of bias). He isn’t funny himself, but funny shit just happens to him.

Because of this, he will use you as a soundboard when everyone else refuses to listen to him. He’s got a lot to say, so be prepared for his TEDtalks. LMAO!

It will take some perception on your part to notice when he actually expects a response from you, and other times he’s just ranting to get his point out.

He will correct your grammar when you text, but barely notices when he makes a similar mistake (his brain moves in mph). Please use the proper names like Venezia, Italia, Roma and Napoli when talking to this man; save yourself from the headache.

When it comes to dates, please have mercy on him, he’s a textbook over-thinker! You’ll just have to plan something simple at home for you both to enjoy.

He isn’t incapable of planning dates, but he’ll want everything to be so absolutely perfect for his s/o and will throw a fit when it ultimately isn’t.

Contrary to popular belief, I think that Ghiaccio is a pretty attentive partner. He’s super intelligent and I think a part of it stems from his innate ability to read people (I’m referencing the part in the anime where he deduced what Giorno and Mista had come to look for, while going off very little information).

The more time he spends with you, the better he gets at it.

His form of affection will be shown through the amount of time you both spend together. When it comes to sex or anything related to that, be gentle and slow as Ghiaccio will likely be a flustered mess.

As he becomes more comfortable and confident, he will be bolder and just ask out right if you’ll suck him off tonight or not. The man appreciates directness, so don’t bother being coy. “You want me to give you head? Cool, lay down a towel or something.” is what he’ll probably say.

Very practical 👌🏾👌🏾

Melone, good lord, he’s kind of perfect.

A bit of a doting boyfriend here and there—very much concerned about your health. Expect him to ask if you’ve eaten, or taken your multivitamin. How are your bowel movements? LMAO

It can become a bit much, but he really genuinely cares. He’s not asking to be intrusive or nasty! If he was, you’d know. 🤣

But I seriously consider Melone to be the one (at least among La Squadra) who is way, way invested in his relationships. He will know every little detail about you; will ask you lots of questions and expects you to ask him just as many.

This may be annoying to some, but this dude will definitely bring up your horoscope in an argument. He’ll be like “I honestly can’t fathom why you’re being this way, though it’s to be expected from a libra.”

Peg this bitch so he can shut up.

Melone is also touchy as hell, but not in a clingy way. He loves touching, and just to tag onto the headcanon about his partial blindness, I want to say that he’s so touchy because that’s how he ‘sees’ you best.

Just know that half the time, he isn’t touching you to be lecherous, even if he genuinely does like the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Melone will even encourage you to touch him back.

Rub his thigh or back and he’ll be simping.

He is obsessed with your legs, and will paint your toes if you let him.

LOVES PDA! Melone will also tongue-kiss you in public if you let him!

Notice how I keep saying ‘if you let him’. Give him an inch and he’ll press you for a mile, so if there are boundaries you would like to establish, please do, cuz he sure as hell won’t, just saying!

When it comes to sex, Melone is a dick and coochie sensei. Oral is his favorite thing to do, probably enjoys giving more than receiving to be honest. I’d say he’s pretty much mastered sex for what it is.

That being said, if he’s ever talking out of his neck, just invite him to put his mouth to better use. He’ll even thank you for your gracious request.

Formaggio is next 💀

According to my JoJo compatriots from discord, he’s like the Optimus Prime of fuckboi’s so let’s ride that wave for a bit! LMAO

I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that Formaggio is pretty shameless. He will send you a dick pic on Sunday morning before church and have the audacity to say “Just wanted to bless you real quick”.

@autumn-kouhai mentioned him giving his s/o sickly sweet pet names and I just have to agree.

Expect to be hit upside the head with: baby-boo, sugar plum, honey bunches, sweetums. I can imagine them becoming really ridiculous too like “the last piece of red velvet cake” or “cheddar bae biscuits from Red Lobster”

His catch phrase is “Got nudes?”

Send them, and he won’t be afraid to reply with something equally sexy.

Be warned though, he will stockpile whatever you send him and then be careless with his phone. If you don’t mind Illuso’s snoopy ass seeing your nudes then by all means, have at it. Otherwise, send them through snapchat, so they disappear later.

As far as La Squadra boyfriends go, he’s the most fun! Y’all don’t even go anywhere because man’s is broke. BUT, Formaggio knows how to have a good time without any need to spend money (my kind of dude tbh) you guys just crank up the tunes, dance, and get lit until the neighbors complain.

Formi is also the CEO of jokes/memes, and will have you in absolute tears almost always! I literally tell my friends that funny guys are so dangerous, don’t sleep on them! They will make you laugh until your panties drop, it’s magic, I swear. Formaggio has that same energy.

No matter how bad of a day his s/o is having, rest assured, he will draw the biggest laugh out of you.

Besides his fuckboi tendencies, his most redeeming quality is the fact that he’s super cool and fun to hang with. You’ll literally have a good time, always, because his energy is right! Very good vibes around this man, I swear! It’ll be exactly like dating your best friend, because essentially, he will be your bestie.

Formi has many moments of tenderness that aren’t sexually charged too—moments where the jokes stop and he’ll just rub your back or feet, this is usually when you aren’t feeling well and need some quiet.

However, Formaggio won’t let you mope all day, he’ll pull out the big guns and call you his “sweetie baby” and when you try to resist he’ll say “What, I’m just tryna show you some love.”

He’s a good dude lmao I’d date a guy like him irl 😭

Pesci stans wya??! Let’s get into this baby boy.

Pesci is boyfriend material, idgaf what anyone says.

He is pretty much the least problematic to be with among all of La Squadra, even more so than Risotto (don’t argue with me).

Pesci is hyper aware of your likes and dislikes and will literally go out of his way to make sure that you’re well and okay.

Arguments are basically nonexistent and if they occur it ain’t coming from his side.

I also think that Pesci has a lot of empathy, so when you’re going through something, he’s right there in the thick of it with you. If you’ve seen that meme that goes ‘when my gf is on her period it’s UterUS’ lmao that’s Pesci’s energy 100%.

Sometimes, he’s more of a lover and not a fight, that is perfectly okay!

However, if someone tries up his s/o, say farewell to Mr. Niceguy. He will defend your honor to his dying breath. And with you in his corner, trust me, he’s not going down.

A romantic at heart, Pesci will plan little date trips like picnics in the park or boat trips to Capri, actually, I’d like to point out that he excels in the art of date planning. If you’re the adventurous type, he’ll plan outings where you both will be more active, like biking through the city or renting a mop-ed and going sight-seeing.

Because Pesci has a sensitive stomach, he’s very much considerate of what you both put in your bodies. If you have dietary restrictions or allergies, this guy knows all about it and will cater to you perfectly.

A true gentleman through and through, he will never force himself on you, ever. In fact, he really doesn’t like engaging in anything sexual when you’re drunk or high, sorry if you’re into that!

Pesci is the kind of guy who keeps up with your favorite shows.

If ya’ll have similar taste in media or literature, he will immerse himself in it so that he can relate to you all the more.

If there’s anyone who will entertain anime-related discourse, no matter how nonsensical, it’s Pesci. And he isn’t just putting up with it, he’s actively engaging in the conversation so you are always heard and validated.

He’s an A+ boyfriend, that’s all I gotta say! Haters can stay mad :)

Goddamn Illuso... idk man.

I really feel like you have to have thick/tough skin to handle this guy, for various reasons.

The first being that Illuso can be a bit mean at first. He’ll push your buttons on purpose just to see what’ll make you tick. Will tease the living heck out of you, always, kind of a bully lmao but not to the extreme, it’s just his brand of humor—and the thing is, he won’t be mad when you dish it right back, so it’s cool.

Secondly, Illuso has big dick energy!!

I mean rightfully so, because he is indeed packing! But my word, he ain’t humble about it at all!

He is not above making jokes about ‘splitting you in half’. In fact all of his jokes have hidden, dirty undertones!

His affection is shown through speech mostly. Illuso will drop subtle innuendos and provocations, half to see you flustered and half because he wants you to know how much he wants you.

Illuso isn’t incredibly vocal about his feelings outside of ‘I’m tryna hit that thang’ but you won’t doubt that he loves you because Illuso doesn’t waste his own time.

If he’s spending his time with you, you can rest assured that it’s because he wants to.

Illuso is a voyeur and you’ll just have to understand/accept that and move on.

He loves watching you and will even creep over to your place through the mirror world just to hang or watch you do chores. Loves to surprise you and give you jump scares lmao it’ll make you a tad paranoid but it’s also fun.

Illuso is prone to random bouts of sweetness; it’s very sporadic, very touch-and-go.

One day, you’ll wake up to chocolates on your dresser or new shoes, lingerie, or makeup if you wear it. I imagine that if you’re low on funds, he will even help you buy your groceries that week.

It’ll surprise the hell out of you, but that’s just how Illuso is. He enjoys keeping you on your toes!

He’s prideful and smug as hell, so he will definitely expect a thank you, because even if he does it out of the kindness in his heart, he also wants to hear that you appreciate him

Same goes for the bedroom scene. Illuso loves making you vocal, it’s his favorite thing in the world, so he’ll make a game out of doing the things that get the biggest reaction out of you. Like I said, it's that big dick energy at work here, smh.

Sorbet and Gelato in a polyamorous relationship with you? Let’s get it!

We don’t get anything substantial about these two except that Sorbet follows the money, so these are all personal headcanons for how I see and write them.

Here’s the juice: when it comes to you as their s/o, these two are possessive as hell. You are theirs and that’s that on that! 😭 Don’t ask questions, just go with it.

Sorbet is the chill one of the duo. He can be a bit smug at times, but he’s mostly a laid back dude who doesn’t get bothered by much.

When it comes to you, Sorbet likes to spend quality time with you more than anything, and will ask you to cook for him at your place so he ain’t gotta spend money. Oh? Did I not mention that I kinda think of him as a cheapskate? Lmao cuz I do.

Sorbet will come by your place just to steal your coupons from the mail then head out; you’re not using ‘em so why should he let them go to waste?

Gelato is the complete opposite; personality wise, I headcanon him as a mix between Melone and Formaggio lmao

But it’s not as crazy as it sounds, he’s cute and outspoken like Melone, while maintaining a free-spirit like Formaggio. One quality that I like is that he’s quite devoted to you and Sorbet. If anyone crosses either of you, goodluck to them!

I like to think Gelato’s also just really boujee and high maintenance. He loves to pamper and be pampered. You and him tag-team Sorbet’s wallet and go on spa dates together at his expense (not that he ever really stood a chance)

While Sorbet is cool with just being in the same room as you, Gelato loves hugging/cuddling with you and Sorbet—will definitely fight for the middle spot between the two of you on the couch during movie nights.

He baby, so let him have it lol

In the bedroom, I would salute anyone with the guts to take the two of them on. They both lay down that work, period.

Sorbet gets his kicks from teasing and edging you (his sadistic side comes out a bit), while Gelato loves when you give him extra TLC. To put it short, they know how to take care of you, so there are no issues there.

Last but not least, Mr. Risotto Nero himself.

Man, idc on the lowest of keys, he seems a little bit like a grandpa to me

The type to sit at home and do crosswords, has a bird feeder in his yard and plays old Italian hits while washing the dishes. It’s very domestic 💀 (I find it cute, whatever!)

As a boyfriend, I can’t imagine him suddenly being spontaneous or outgoing unless you drag him out of his home/comfort zone.

Be patient with Mr. Nero, and he can come to surprise you

After a while, it won’t be just you dragging him out and about; one day he’ll ask you to come over and you’ll be greeted with a nice, traditional, homemade meal

Pay attention and you will notice him watching your face to see if you like his cooking 🥺

After seeing his fight with Doppio, I must admit that Risotto is very, very observant, almost scarily so.

I can totally picture him pointing out random things about his s/o that even they don’t know

One night, Risotto may come up to you and say “I talked to your neighbor about the dog, they’ll keep it inside now.” And you’re just staring like 😳 how did he know the barking was keeping you up at night????

He’s sweet, and will take good care of you as a boyfriend should.

Very good listener, won’t talk as much but will hang on to your every word, I promise. He could even recite it to you verbatim.

He’s a big dude, that ain’t news, so expect to be swallowed up in hugs and sometimes even picked up (as a tall girl myself, I simp!!!)

Gives A1 piggyback rides, lol

ALSO RISOTTO IS HUMBLE ASF!

Big dick energy, but on low volume 👏🏾 after all, he doesn’t need to do much talking, because a night with him is more than enough!

Listen babe, you better stretch, do some squats, and prep in whatever way you can before Mr. Nero gives you that work. 🤐

Lowkey a freak, but it’s well hidden behind his ‘quiet giant’ exterior

So, who are y'all dating? Personally, I’m going for Formaggio and Pesci hehe

#jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #vento aureo #la squadra #prosciutto #illuso #formaggio #melone #risotto nero #pesci #ghiaccio #gelato and sorbet #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra di esecuzione #jojo headcanons #la squadra x reader #jojo part 5

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