#y​ou should shut your bitch mouth

[panakina]

It means so much to me that Jason is both very much a victim, and he is so loud and hurt and unrepentant over it. He isn’t interested in silently enduring like some kind of romantic martyr. There is no nobility in pain. It is not beautiful.

And the harder different writers have tried to retroactively make him mean and unsympathetic the more i love him. Yes! He’s angry and mean because his life has been cruel and unjust and that is worth getting angry about.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 2 - 1.2K WC

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here!)

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, blood eating/drinking (BRIEF AF), sword/knife fighting, reader is just built different, she is THAT bitch, slow burn, this man is falling slowly for your ruthless ass

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

You walked into the training arena. A large black room with a plethora of weapons to choose from. Everything was of Harkonnen design, curved heavy blades with thicker handles. You preferred your own Cruor weapons, thin balanced straight blades that were easy to move quickly so your nails could also become improvised weapons. You took your personal blades from your maid before dismissing them, wanting to be alone to train. You readied yourself before slashing expertly at the training dummies, practicing a technique taught to you by the monks of Succo. 

House Cruor had occupied the planet Succo long before you were born; all ancient teachings were still taught. Especially to you as the sole heir. You were just as deadly as you were intelligent. Legend has it that the Sardaukar held only a fraction of the battle knowledge the monks of Succo had. Such a powerful but secretive house, you were almost forgotten as your planet was at the far reaches of the universe. Nobody went there unless they had a purpose. The cold dark planet shrouded in red darkness full of blood magic. You thought of your home, how you already missed its ethereal red glow. How you were now stuck on Geidi Prime, promised to a man who was rumored to be psychotic. From what you gathered, he found himself to be impenetrable. Arrogant. You would not bring shame to your house by refusing the marriage, Harkonnens are formidable in battle and useful allies. But that did not mean you had to become some cowering pup. You would show them all just how strong House Cruor is. 

Lost in your training you barely heard the door open and shut. You threw your smaller blade behind you without looking, defense mode taking over your brain. When you turned, poising yourself with your larger blade, ready to attack, you saw Feyd with your knife in his hand. Blood trickled down his hand but he didn’t seem to mind it. You could smell it across the room, it was tart but somehow sweet. It made your mouth water in anticipation of tasting it. Feyd lowered his hand, looking at your knife before tossing it aside. He pulled one of the Harkonnen swords off the nearby wall before walking towards you. You grunted, sharpening your eyes and standing your ground when he got to close. You listened to his blood pump, his heart beat quickly. 

“Are you afraid to fight?” you asked him.

He answered with a scoff, “Afraid? Of you?”

“You should be.” you said, “Your heart beat tells me you are.” you smirked, egging him on.

His face hardened, he struck out at you multiple times, you dodged each strike without even lifting your blade. You laughed at him, moving fluidly as if this were child's play for you. His face grew angrier with each strike that missed.

“Fight if you are going to fight!” he yelled, “Or is it you who is afraid?” he spat.

Wrong words. You lunged at him, slashing wildly but with expert precision. He did his best to dodge your blows but you were faster, more skilled. You kicked out his leg before slashing his hand with your nails, causing him to drop his sword. You went down with him, straddling his chest so your legs could hold his arms down. You held your sword behind you while holding your nails to his throat. Little pin pricks left a droplet trail of blood down his neck. 

Both of you were breathing heavily, “I have you.” you said mere inches away from his face.

He looked at you, bewildered. Amazed by your skill, nobody had ever bested him so quickly. 

“Yield?” you asked, pressing your nails slightly harder.

Feyd groaned, but not out of pain. Out of sheer arousal. He did his best to hide it, alter it. After a moment he nodded. You stood quickly, holding out a hand to help him up. He looked at you for a moment before grabbing your hand with his bleeding one and hoisting himself up with your aid. You looked at the crimson on your hand before licking the dribble up. Your eyes fluttered shut, he was sweet. Like some sort of rich, deep wine that you wanted to drown in. Your fangs ached for more. 

“Do I taste good?” he asked with a smirk.

You opened your eyes to see his arrogant face, how you loathed that face. You quickly spat the blood on the floor, “Absolutely vile.” you replied to him. 

You picked up your knife before heading towards the door. 

“Wait!” he said with urgency. 

You turned to look at him, giving him a quizzical look. 

“Train me.” he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please… train me… you are a worthy opponent.” he said with sincerity.

Your heart softened a bit at his wanting to learn from you and admitting you were a great warrior. You nodded at him before leaving.

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

You stayed in your room for the day, the blinding light of the black sun on Geidi Prime was getting tiring walking in every day. You had black out curtains installed to somewhat resemble home. Light was not deadly to the Cruor but it was irritating; like a pebble in your shoe. 

You heard a knock on your door, thinking it was one of your maids you allowed them to enter. You laid on your bed with your eyes closed in a lengthy black robe that was ever so slightly sheer. 

“What is it?” you asked.

“I have something for you.” said a gruff voice. 

You shot up, “What do you want?” you asked, surprised he was in your chambers. 

Feyd held out a small disc. “What’s that?” you said moving slightly closer to him.

He moved to your bed, standing almost chest to chest with you at the end of it. He set the disc down before activating it. The room filled with stars and a familiar red glow, the red supergiant your people referred to as Rubrum glowing in the corner. 

You looked around amazed, surprisingly happy to be with Feyd at this moment. Feyd watched as you looked around, admiring your beautifully striking features. He was growing to like you and thought this olive branch might soften you towards him a bit. For some reason, the setup brought a few tears to your eyes.

“What is it?” Feyd asked.

“I miss Succo… I miss home…” you said, looking on at the stars and Rubrum. You used to get this view everyday, yet it almost felt like a distant memory looking at it now. 

Feyd’s heart dropped a little, “Geidi Prime is not to your liking?” he asked, looking on at the stars with you. 

“It is too bright… and lonely.” you said, mumbling the last bit.

Feyd softly turned you to face him with a finger under your chin, “Keep this, enjoy your home view whenever you wish it.” 

You locked your eyes with his, his eyes glancing to your lips then back up repeatedly. You softly dragged one of your claws over his cheek bones. Turning his head, you gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you Feyd.” you said with sincerity. 

His name sounded so perfect on your lips, he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. “Feyd huh?” he remarked.

“Do you expect me to call you Lord Na-Baron Feyd Rautha? Because I will not be doing that.” you said, backing away from him. 

Feyd smiled, amused with your attitude. He had never met someone so sure of themself.

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

Naboo's Note:

Yeeeeee were getting into it!! This series is gonna be so fun I just know it. I'm gonna try to make it a slow burn but I have never been great those so here's to hoping. Thanks for all the love around my idea, I really have a lot of hope and ideas for it so its nice to see other people think my weird space vampires are cool. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO, talk soon!

[gimmethatagustd]

Taejoon!?!?! Oh boooooyyyyyy 🥵🥵🥵🥵

y'know, since i forgot to post a wip wednesday yesterday... 😌

warnings: smut, degradation, ohts!taehyung is on his nasty, fuckboy behavior 25/8 (you all should already know this)

“Y’know, next time, I think we should invite your pretty princess over, don’t you think?” Taehyung usually isn’t the type to talk during sex, but a sick part of him enjoys how Namjoon tenses with… embarrassment? Humiliation? Something, every time Taehyung mentions his ex-girlfriend. “Could fuck her and make you watch.” 

Namjoon lets out a whimper in response, his eyes squeezed shut.  

“No? Not into that?” Taehyung lets go of his hair to hook his middle and ring fingers into the corner of Namjoon’s mouth. “Of course, you’re a greedy little bitch. You can’t just sit back and watch. That’s fine. Maybe she’d like two cocks up her pussy.” 

Taehyung brings a stinging slap to Namjoon’s ass. By this point, he’s drooling around his fingers. “She’s pretty tight, though. Not sure she could handle it.” 

“F-Fuck y-y-ou,” Namjooon stutters. Taehyung is sure it’s meant to be biting, but he says it through the most debauched moan once Taehyung slips his fingers out of his mouth that all the statement does is turn Taehyung on more. 

“You’re the only one getting fucked,” he says with a grin Namjoon can only catch out of the corner of his eye. 

“T-Then, d-do it, you piece of s-shit,” Namjoon says with a shallow breath.

[hotwings0203]

I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

[bunnykawa]

hungry (osamu miya x f. reader)

summary: You have a big crush on the handsome owner of an onigiri shop. He thinks it’s annoying. Or does he?

a/n: eh idk what this is. timeskip love haha. but this might be a triggering so please keep that in mind and read the warnings

warnings: 18+, yandere themes, noncon/dubcon/rape, raw sex, kinda public sex?, some degradation, little bit of spanking and hairpulling, abusive language, violence, stalking, mentions of past sexual abuse, you vomit but it's not sexualized it's trauma-induced, timeskip!osamu :)

The energy of the restaurant is oddly calm tonight. Nights are almost never tranquil at Onigiri Miya with the constant parade of people coming in, so you hum in satisfaction when you scan the restaurant and there's barely anyone here. You stare down at your half-eaten onigiri and the loyalty stamp card that you filled up from how often you come here. After nine visits, you get a free onigiri on your tenth one as long as you show them your stamp card. 

This is your hundredth visit—you remember because the first time you entered Onigiri Miya was ten stamp cards ago. The staff already know your name, if not by your face and your timid behavior that makes you stutter when ordering the same thing every time they see you. As peculiar as they think you are (for coming to Onigiri Miya at the same time on Fridays and Saturdays for the past six months and sitting alone quietly until they close), they warmly welcome you.

It's only you in the dining area tonight. The few employees that Onigri Miya has must have left earlier than usual. You suddenly tense up in your seat and grip onto your cup of freshly-poured hot tea tightly between tremulous fingers. The familiar male figure, standing at over six feet tall with beautiful broad shoulders, passes by the front counter, disappearing as he makes his way to the back. 

After you let out a harsh breath, you adjust your phone from behind your purse on the table. Your phone is propped up behind it, the camera lens slightly peeking over the faux leather. Butterflies form in your stomach when you see that you were still recording and you caught him on camera. 

Yes, you go to Onigiri Miya because the food is amazing. Somehow, they make a dish as simple as a rice ball so delectable and appetizing and you adore them because of it. But hyperfixation is a fucking bitch, your thought process is a little flawed, and the real reason why you frequent the establishment is because Osamu Miya is absolutely gorgeous. Every time you see him, you're left wondering what it would be like to run your fingers through his dark hair or how his lips feel pressed against yours. Your thoughts run wild. How does he like his eggs in the morning? What's his family like? Does he sleep on the right side of the bed? Left side? In the middle? Does he have space for you on his bed? 

How does it feel to be loved by Osamu Miya?

Every time you visit the restaurant, visibly nervous with anxiety beating in your chest and your throat closing as you try to speak, you feel that you're one step close to finding out. And maybe you did feel it once. Just once. You're unsure if that one special moment you shared with Osamu was genuine from his heart with good intentions, but you would do anything for that feeling to last forever. And if that made your whole being feel as if you were floating, then why wouldn't it be the same for him?

So, that's why you're here. To relive that special moment in the way that you fantasized about—something that can become a fond memory instead of a dream deep inside your head that leaves you yearning for physicality. Desire is the only sensation that you've felt for the past six months and it's torture to watch the man that you've fallen in love with barely acknowledge you as a person even if he's seen your face in his restaurant consistently every week since you first met. Since he saved you. 

Six months later. Six months to move on. Six months to get help and yet you're still digging your hands into your panties and biting onto your sheets to gag yourself because of one man after every visit to his restaurant.

"Hey."

Oh, that voice makes your thighs tremble every time you hear it. As stoic and impassive as it is, it's the same voice that gave you solace when you were beaten down in the dark to bleed on concrete. You're gritting your teeth—nearly moaning at the sweet sound—as that voice almost breaks you out of your thoughts. Almost. 

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Osamu asks in a deadpan tone from his place behind the counter. You jolt suddenly. For someone who's so obsessive with small details, you sure don't pay much attention to your surroundings. You quickly shake your head when you realize that he's talking to you. 

"Y-yes. I'm...I'm fine, O...samu," you squeak in embarrassment. You don't realize it, but you're clutching onto your stamp card with white knuckles. His gray hooded eyes seem to be staring right through you, as if he knows why you're here tonight, what you're looking for. But whatever he does notice, he doesn't mention. His eyes dart down to your purse before he maintains eye contact with you. 

He places his hand on the counter to lean on it. The small action makes your mouth dry. He's so fucking beautiful. "It's almost ten-o'clock. I'm gonna close up. You should leave soon." 

But you don't want to leave yet. Tonight was supposed to be the night that you finally made your dreams come true. It's only him and you in the restaurant tonight, so it must mean something.

"Where...where's the rest of the c-crew?" you ask shakily. Fuck, get yourself together. You just need an excuse not to leave. And he might know your name, but he doesn't know you. Not yet.

He raises a thick eyebrow at your question before answering, "Left early tonight. Just me taking care of the shop." You should have noticed. This is why you leave your phone recording while you're there—you don't want to miss anything in case you get distracted.

But does he want you to leave? Your heart aches at the thought of him not wanting your presence when you've been craving his for so long. "I see," you mutter awkwardly.

What do I do now?

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?" he says after a few seconds of awkward silence. You haven't moved from your seat and neither has Osamu moved from his spot to "close up" as he said he would. You wonder if the door is already locked.

"What do you mean?" Your heart is thumping more now than it has in the past three hours you've been here. Osamu lives in your brain rent-free yet you can barely breathe around him. Now he's speaking to you. Actually speaking to you.

"You know exactly what I mean," he calmly accuses you. The unexpected shift in his tone makes your blood run cold. "Wonder if your phone has run out of storage yet. Funny you go out of your way to come here twice a week just to record me."

"What?!" you cry out, suddenly shooting up from your seat. Your chair skids a few inches across the floor behind you before it tilts and hits the ground with a crash. The quick movement causes the table in front of you to shake and make your phone to fall back as well, the screen smashing against the wood and the camera lens facing up towards the ceiling. You feel like you're about to have a heart attack. Your vision goes blurry from tears suddenly threatening to overflow because were you that obvious?

"I noticed. A long time ago. Remember you from that night back in the alley. Very unique face you got there," Osamu hums. He steps around the counter to make his way towards you. You cower into the wall beside your table, your eyes darting from your phone and Osamu's threatening figure.

Back in the alley. The image of the back alley behind Onigiri Miya flashes in your mind. Dark, wet, and sadly gray. That's where you first met him.

"Didn't expect to see you back here. Thought you might've developed PTSD or something with how you were crying. Now you're stalking me." 

"No," you loudly plead, shaking your head side to side, "I don't know what you're talking about!" You're lying straight through your teeth. That's funny—you've been coming to his restaurant for a chance to see him again, but he's coming closer and closer and you're terrified instead of happy. Your knees buckle as you press your back against the wall. You squeeze your eyes shut as the memories come flooding back into your system in vivid detail. 

He continues on, "Don't even lie to me. Stalking me like a crazy bitch. I wasn't sure what I should do about you. I felt bad for you and let you continue doing this, even thought about calling the police for a little bit, but…"

Osamu almost never talks to you, maybe a few times where he's handling the register and the orders and he has to talk to you, but he's always in the open kitchen where you can freely admire him when you want to, always an arm's length away. When you would think about what your first conversation together would be like, you always imagined his words to be kind. Sweet. Maybe he'd say he admired you—

"...you're a little fucked up in the head, huh?" 

His tone is hostile. There's no love laced in any of the syllables falling from his tongue. He's annoyed. He hates the fact that you want him—it's that obvious but you don't want to believe it, especially when you think you worked so hard. It's not fair.

Your mind is hazy as he's coming closer and closer to your trembling form. You see his lips moving and the calm expression on his face turn into hard evil, but your ears can't decipher what he's saying. His words have faded into white noise. And you've seen him multiple times, traced his face through the screen of your phone, admired him from afar at the same spot in his restaurant for months, but his face is sharper, harsher, and almost unrecognizable. Is this really the man that saved you? Is this really Osamu Miya?

Your blood is pumping loudly in your ears. It's the only sound that you can make out other than your heavy breathing. God, if he gets any closer...

Then, the adrenaline kicks in and you're lunging at him with your arms outstretched towards his large frame. You don't know what you're going to do and sure as hell you're no match for him, but your body is screaming at you. Your senses are running wild, like the aura that Osamu is emitting is lighting you on fire and making you act on primal instinct. It's telling you to fight. 

To fight him. To bash your tiny fists against his handsome face because he should have fallen in love with you the moment that you fell in love with him, but he has the audacity to leave you hanging for half a year and call you a stalker.

And it's painful. You're not sure which hurts more, but at this moment, the physical pain is excruciating. You can't breathe anymore, not when his calloused hands (from years of training on the court, which you found out from the internet, and in the kitchen) are wrapped around your throat. You can't think straight either—your head hit the ground a little too hard and the world is spinning. Osamu's face is contorted in anger and even if your world is spinning, his features are as clear as day. 

Your memories start crashing down inside your brain in fragments. The pain, frustration, and sadness hit you all at once—it’s nauseating. It’s as if Osamu can sense this, too, because as soon as he notices your sick expression, he flips you over to force you on your knees with one arm around your waist, his hand in your scalp to hold your head in place towards the floor and then you’re heaving and gagging out the rice balls you consumed earlier. Your throat is on fire and you're still coughing up pieces of rice.

“You gross bitch,” he mutters.

You gross bitch.

It's bouncing around in your ear drum until it fades into cotton, a familiar set of words that cut you deep that you were able to pick up on easily among the other curses he's been throwing at you. The same words from six months ago. A trigger? Yeah, that's what the internet calls it. You almost died, or at least that's what it felt like. That's the only way you can describe it, the only way you were able to make sense of what happened, because you feel that you might as well have. 

It was from someone else's mouth—a disgusting, grimy man whose face haunted your dreams for months, a man with greasy fingers that put his hands on you, who beat you until you were nearly unconscious with blood dripping down your chin, who ripped you away of your pride and worth until you were nothing. The concrete was wet and cold, scraping against your sensitive skin and breaking through layers as he rutted into you. His breath fucking stunk and for fuck's sake, you don't know if you've seen anyone uglier, but as fucked up as it is, he made you feel ugly. 

You thought you saw an angel that day. The backdoor to Onigiri Miya opened up and when you finally opened your eyes and looked up, there he was—with blank gray eyes that stared down at the scene before him in slight disgust, and then he ripped the repulsive body off of your half-naked form. You were too weak. 

While you were weak and scared and incoherent, Osamu saw you and didn't hesitate to protect you. At the end of every dream you've had since then, Osamu always came to help you. 

And that should've been the end of it. That should've been the last time. You can't go through that again. No, no, no. You don't deserve to go through that again. 

You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it.

You're more responsive and awake once Osamu bends you over the table you were sitting at, then your senses are overloading, telling you to resist, to keep fighting. You're so tired, at this point you're completely heartbroken, but you can't—you can't just give up yet. He's holding you down, restraining your wrists with one hand while his other hand is at your waistband pulling your shorts down your thighs. You're kicking at him with whatever strength you have left even if the taste in your mouth is vile, he's much stronger than you, and your head is pounding from the anxiety. You're grateful that you can even breathe.

But it feels like your body has failed you, once again, and for a second you think that you do deserve it. The adrenaline is almost gone, you can barely lift a finger, you feel like passing out, and—fuck—you're so stupid, so dependent on one person to make you feel high. With Osamu...you don't even know what to think. The image you dreamed of is long gone. It's sad that reality can crash over you so easily and ruin everything. 

"Get off of me!" you scream. Over and over again. Until your voice cracks and your throat is on the brink of bleeding, coughing out your poor lungs. Until it's nothing but the essence of your torment. Your cup of tea, now warm, has spilled all over the table and is slowly seeping into your hair as your cheek rubs against the wood. And there's nothing else you can do, because Osamu is still behind you with your hands trapped by his. Your shorts and your panties are around your ankles. His jeans are unbuttoned and it's out. 

You don't want to fight anymore, you're fucking terrified. So terrified that you can't bring yourself to move. As soon as you stop fighting, his breathing becomes steady and he's using less force on you. Sobs rack through your body hysterically when you feel it.

It's throbbing against your thigh—warm, leaking precum, long, and thick. The skin-to-skin contact in such an intimate area is making the hairs on the back of your neck rise. That tiny voice inside of your head is telling you to look back at it to see if his dick matches the image you made up in your head. Is it exactly how you pictured it? Is it as pretty?

He's wiping his precum against your tense skin. When you flinch at the tip of his cock rubbing against you, he bites his lip and kneads one of your ass cheeks with his free hand, spreading your holes open and ever so gently brushing his thumb over your pussy. 

"You're...wet," he comments. You hear it. He dips his thumb between your folds and swipes it up and down and you hear the squelching of your cunt over your heavy breathing. That's—that's not right. No, you shouldn't be feeling this way. He pushes his thumb deeper into your cunt and slowly pulls it back out. You flinch and arch your back slightly at the sudden sensation, making you push your ass towards him. He lets out a breathy laugh at your reaction. 

His thumb disappears for a second but it's instantly replaced with his dick probing at your entrance. With a roll of his hips, he breaks through your squishy flesh with some difficulty. 

A loud yelp and a slurry of protests falls from your wet desperate lips. You wriggle your bottom, trying to create space between your two bodies, jerking away from him with whatever strength you have left. However, Osamu keeps going until he's completely bottomed out, filling you up until his tip is flush against your cervix. He lets go of your wrists so he could keep a firm grip on your hips instead. Whenever you moved, it burned.

Stop.

The stretch is unbearable—it's been half a year since you've had someone else inside you. The burn of having your hole forcefully split open wide again against your will has your head going delirious with so many mixed emotions. Fuck's sake, this isn't right and it's been heavily engraved in your brain for months that you have every right to fight back. Although you haven't been thinking straight for a long time, you're still lucid enough for your ears to work and soak up information like a sponge. He's moving, rutting his hips into your hot cunt cruelly. You can still fight him off, maybe you'd win if you tried again. 

But this is Osamu. Your heart fucking aches for him and you want to get away, but it's Osamu drilling into your heat and it's just not fair. It's not fair because your body is still responding to his malicious touch. It's not fair because even if it hurts—and fuck, it hurts so damn much—you're involuntarily grinding your ass into him. It's not fucking fair because you can't hate him.

Why is life never fair?

"No," you sob, "No, no, no. It hurts. It hurts. Please stop." Your hot tears are mixing with the puddle of tea that's pooling underneath your cheek and your tongue still tastes foul from your little episode. You’re scared you might start gagging again.

"Stop?" he muses, "Haven't you been loitering in my restaurant because you've been craving my cock? You wanted this for months and the one time I give it to you, you're telling me to stop?" Osamu slams into your poor little cunt despite your pained cries and babbling. Your pussy is clamping around him, your body trying to accommodate his length and girth breaking into you so suddenly.

"Osamu." His name would've tasted so good if the situation was different. Little did you know that you pushed him passed his breaking point a long time ago. But Osamu knew that you were beyond yours ever since he met you. If only you weren't so fucking weird, maybe then he would've pitied you—maybe he would've genuinely felt something for you. 

What a shame that you fell in love with a man who wouldn't be able to understand you. 

"I'm tired of you coming into my restaurant," he grunts, snapping his hips against yours roughly, "-and treating me like I'm some kind of animal. Do I look like a fucking animal to you?"

You choke, “No. You don’t—that’s not why—please. You don’t understand.” 

“Then tell me," he coaxes. But how do you tell him? Are you supposed to be honest? You're afraid that if you are honest, Osamu will treat you just as badly as he is now. It's also hard for you to collect your thoughts and find a sincere explanation that he could listen to—you're too focused on the many sensations pulsing through you. He raises a bulky arm only bring it down instantly to smack your ass with rough hands. The sudden impact forces you forward for a split second. Then he brings his hand down a few more times, until he's satisfied with the dark red hand print with tiny splotches dotted across your skin. 

Is this a punishment for everything that you've done within the last six months? Punishment for admiring him through sneaky videos and pictures? Punishment for thinking about him all the time? You feel like a criminal, caught red-handed and forced to go through torture and suffer for your ungodly sins. Each time he hits you, you're twitching from the painful sting and praying for forgiveness. 

"Stop it!" you beg through tears, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It hurts so much." Apologies start spilling from your sore throat impulsively. 

I'm sorry, Osamu. 

Please stop, Osamu.

It really hurts, Osamu.

But nothing that comes out of your mouth convinces him, and after awhile it's more like you're trying to convince yourself more. Suddenly the burning in your sensitive cunt is replaced with the inebriating desire and hunger for more friction between your two bodies and it leaves a shameful tint to bloom over you. You're salivating over his dick—you wanna see it so bad even if you're scared—and the guilt is eating at you on the inside. It feels good, actually enough to have you gripping onto the edge of the table and sucking Osamu into your cunt so that he doesn't pull back too far. 

"Don't tell me that it hurts," he groans, "Your pussy is creaming all over me. You can't lie to me anymore."

He's right. You're lying more to yourself than him, though. You don't tell him to stop anymore, settling with swear words and a chorus of Osamu! Osamu! Osamu! It's amazing, intoxicating, and it also makes you feel disgusting. The way his cock fills up your tight pussy perfectly and how his balls are consistently smacking your clit and stimulating it—you're drooling from the pleasure.

"Does it feel good?" he huffs, "Is this what you wanted? To be a cockwhore for me?" 

Your body betrays you and you're left moaning and crying at the same time with breathy words that Osamu can't decipher because you're a complete mess, but he swears he can hear you agree without hesitation. "Y-yes, fuck yes! Your cock is s-so amazing," you cry out, "Hurts so good, Osamu!"

It's not enough. Although you're gradually submitting to him, it's still not enough for the sadistic side of him. He wants to hear more of you, to push you until you're braindead and nothing more than a hole to stretch and tear apart just for the hell of it. He leans over you just to grab you by the disheveled hair on your scalp. Another scream leaves you as he pulls you up to be able to growl in your ear.

"Tell me everything, you whore," he breathes, softly yet maliciously. You try to answer him but the angle he has your neck at from the grip on your hair is choking you. 

"Why'd you keep coming here? Obsessive little bitch. Why're you still here?" It's like he's laughing in your face even if his voice and expression say otherwise. He's mocking your pain, making you relive your trauma as if it was all a fucking joke. As if you’re incapable of feeling pain.

This isn't even supposed to feel as good as it does, yet it does. The way he calls you an obsessive little bitch has your stomach doing flips and your cheeks to flush even more. Then you're confused. You're enjoying his cock forced inside you and it's damn confusing. 

Fuck, it’s enough to further damage your overstimulated psyche and turn you into someone you never thought you would be. An empty shell of the person you used to be because your body doesn’t even fucking feel like your body anymore. Nothing feels real anymore, like you're shifting through universes and living lifetimes but you're stuck in one place at the same time. Why do you always come back here? 

You turn your head to the side, enough for you to see his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, probably from concentration on your slick pussy, and then he notices you staring at him. You don't utter another word, you might just choke and spew if you even open your mouth to attempt to (and holy shit, you don't want to embarrass yourself anymore), but your eyes—they answer his question in heavy silence. It’s enough for him to understand and see right through you. Loud and clear although you don't speak. 

Because you saved me.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out another sob, but this cry is full of guilty pleasure instead with barely any tears. It has you nearly passing out and feeling sick to your stomach and just please—make it stop hurting. But it feels so damn good at the same time, to have the tip of his swelling cock kissing your cervix every time he slams into you, grinding his hips against your sweet cunt. Your body contracts violently as you release your liquids all around Osamu's cock, pushing your ass against his pelvis and knocking your empty tea cup and purse off the table. Intitially, the loud crash makes you jolt but it's nothing compared to how your orgasm crashing over you has you screaming and thrashing around pathetically. 

You're cumming. You're cumming. You can't believe you're fucking cumming. You've never felt this way before and you always believed that sex was painful but you're still cumming long and hard on Osamu's cock. Your juices are being forced out of you.

And you didn't even want it.

You're embarrassed and oddly satisfied at the same time. Your cum is dribbling down your legs and there's no doubt that it's dripping down Osamu's pelvis and thighs, too. He lets go of your hair and your head drops forward onto the table with a thump. You wince at the contact, but you don't move.

After a few silent minutes (silent other than your audible panting) exhaustion finally hits you, and with a heavy breath you completely collapse against the table. You finally stop your death grip on the sides of the table to let them dangle off the edge. Your scalp is sore, it makes your head pound when you move your head even slightly. 

A soft tired gasp escapes your throat in surprise; you feel little pecks going up your back and across your shoulders.

Then there’s feather-light kisses tickling your shoulder that leaves an agitated tingle in your nerves and—why? Why bother being gentle at this point? But the fluttering in your pelvis doesn't stop. He slips out of you just to turn your weak body over so you're laying on your back. You instantly move your eyes further down and—

It's pretty. Prettier than you imagined. His cock is fucking pretty. It's hypnotizing as you scan the vein running underneath the skin and the pink swollen head oozing clear liquid. It's glistening, dripping, with juices. 

Holy shit, those are your juices. 

It dawns on you that you both connected. Although not in the way that you had hoped, definitely not, but...you connected in the most physically intimate way possible. You felt him, his warmth, his damp skin, everything. Your eyes drift upwards. He's breathing heavily, his chest visibly moving. He has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you in place—you're not going anywhere. You don't want to go anywhere. Examining his face, you can see everything, every single detail. His lips, his lidded eyes, his cute nose, the shape of his face, and—wow—Osamu is pretty. So pretty. He's nearly angelic when you take a closer look. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him before.

You hope you're not imagining it, because you see something different behind his blank stare as if he's in as much of an awe as you are while you look up at him lovingly, like he didn't just hurt you. He took you against your will and yet you're staring at him like he just told you that you were his world. Are you a fucking idiot? Are you delusional?

"Do you love me?"

The question leaves him before he realizes his lips are forming the words. Osamu looks down at you, no other emotion laced in any of his handsome features except for distaste and...curiosity? With parted puffy lips and despair etched onto your cheeks, you slowly nod. The glazed look in your eyes draws him closer to your face, scrutinizing every part of your soft skin. He braces his hands on both sides of your trembling form. One part of your cheek is still wet from the tea that spilled earlier and your hair is disgustingly moist from a mixture of sweat and earl grey and you feel anxious again. 

"Okay," he says, voice as monotonous and dead as usual, but also worn out and accompanied with heavy breathing. You tense when he leans even closer, but quickly relax when you feel him kiss your forehead. It's a delicate kiss that makes your heart flutter. Then he trails further and connects your lips. It's short, but wet and sweet. He hadn't kissed you on your mouth the whole night, it probably would have been too weird for him to kiss a sad stalker he didn't know, especially when you vomited on his otherwise spotless floor. The taste of him is lingering on your skin—you're almost afraid to lick your lips in case this'll be the last time you ever have his against yours.

He pulls you into his chest. Your heart might just jump out of yours. His cock is brushing against your shuddering core, hard and sticky, but he doesn't enter you. Osamu simply holds you close, one of his hands in your hair and the other flat against your back. You weakly bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders and dig your face into the crook of his neck. 

Then you cry. You let out a harsh breath and let yourself cry again, shoulders violently shaking and your chest tightening uncomfortably, for the thousandth time tonight even if you're tired and yearning for the comfort of your bed. Slowly, wet tears seep into his t-shirt. Osamu smells good—musky, sweaty, like a man. You don't understand what just happened—it brought you back to six months ago yet it feels entirely indifferent. He smells like a man, but he doesn't smell dirty like the last one who destroyed you.

He continues to hold you as you break down. Osamu thinks he understands, but you—you're more confused now more than ever.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

____________________________

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rapid change of POV, angry makeout, hate sex, smut 18+ (very rough sex btw), smart ass reader, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control)

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: sorry if the pov change got too crazy i was imagining it as if it was like a scene from a movie; just tried something new to spice things up :) also thank you guys so much for the love from only the first chapter?! you guys are literally awesome! i do have a taglist so let me know if you wanna be tagged in future parts! there’s only five chapters by the way!!!!

Taglist _____________________________

(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)

You were hanging out with Peter after you found out that your fight with Bucky made him cry. You two had taken a walk to grab some coffee from the cafe down the street. 

“Why do you and Bucky hate each other?” Peter asked you as you two were walking home.

“Oh, I don’t- I, uh… I don’t hate him,” you stuttered and hesitated, in truth you couldn’t care less what happened to the ass.

“Y/n, you say mean things to each other all the time, and you fight a lot.”

“I know. Peter, sometimes people just don’t get along. I don’t personally think Buck’s a bad guy.”

“Then why do you always fight?”

“I don’t know.”

You two got to the compound and Peter went straight to Tony and Bruce who were in the lab. You went to look for Natasha who was on a step ladder changing a bulb. 

“Why are you changing a bulb? Doesn’t Vision usually do that?”

“He and Wanda… are on… and date,” she huffed trying to reach the screw.

“Do you need help?” you laughed at her struggling.

“Yeah, you’re taller than me right? You try.”

You stepped on the ladder with the bulb in hand reaching to screw it in. Steve and Bucky walked in coming up to you with concerned looks on their faces. You reached up and could barely fit the bulb in so you opted to stand on your toes. That very quickly went south however.  

You fell forward on Nat making the step ladder fly sideways from under you. She grabbed you and rolled you both so you would land on the floor with minimal injury. Steve and Bucky both widened their eyes rushing to you two lay laughing loudly on the floor.

“You guys ok?” Steve asked, grabbing the step ladder.

“Yeah we’re ok-” you cut off, your laughter immediately dying from Bucky grabbing your arm and pulling you up. He grabbed your face and checked to see if you might’ve scratched yourself. 

You pulled away confused.

“Why are you so fucking careless? Ask us next time,” Bucky growled.

“Careful Barnes, don’t want people to think you actually care for me,” you rolled your eyes.

That pissed off Bucky who lunged at you pushing your shoulders. You used your powers to expand a black ball of mist before thrusting it at Bucky making him stumble back. Nat and Steve dove in to stop what could be another potential disaster between you two.

“Can you two stop fighting for five fucking seconds?” Nat yelled. 

“He started it!” you shouted.

“Enough! Barnes, L/n. Asses in the conference room. Now,” Fury found you guys.

You looked at Buck, who had nostrils flared breathing heavily in anger. He was fuming; and for what? 

“You two have a mission,” Fury said when you two entered the conference room.

“Is that really the smartest thing to do. We don’t work well together,” Bucky said.

“The only thing smart about you is your mouth. Go on this mission, together. Any casualties will come out of your paycheck and field time.”

“What?” you both said in shock.

“I said what I said; wheels are up in 20.” 

You grabbed the files handed to you by Maria and walked to your rooms to pack. Nat came into your room to ask what happened. Same with Steve and Bucky.

“What happened?” Nat asked you.

=

“Fury, sent us on a mission,” Bucky told Steve.

=

“I can’t imagine how quickly shit will the fan. I can’t stand him!” you told Nat, talking about the upcoming mission.

=

“I can’t stand her.”

“Why?” Steve asked Buck.

=

“He’s so infuriating. Like everything pisses him off…”

=

“She’s always angry and wants to fight.”

=

“Do you think maybe you like him and you’re convincing yourself you don’t by being mean?” Nat asked you.

There was a long pause as you two stared at each other before you guys burst in laughter.

“Good one,” you laughed, “Anyways, I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back.”

=

“I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back,” Bucky said to Steve patting him on the shoulder. 

You both got to the quinjet, not even thinking about talking to each other. The file you both had basically said there was a fundraiser being held to mask an underground meeting for Hydra agents to meet in secret. 

Not a secret anymore though.

You two arrived at the hotel still haven’t spoken a word each. All that was heard in the elevator on your way up was both your breathing echoing off the metal walls. You got in and set your stuff on the couch. 

“We should set up a game plan,” you huffed.

“Ok,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes but began setting up what should be the tactic to approach the mission. You didn’t want to be too aggressive but being too stealth might take too long. Bucky came out of the bathroom after what seems to be having taken a shower. 

“Come up with anything yet?”

“No,” you responded.

“Seriously?” 

“What? It’s not like your fucking helping.”

“Watch your fucking attitude. I didn’t do anything so knock it off.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna help me or are you gonna sit there and watch me do all the work just to take credit?”

“Why would I take credit for your shitty plan that’s gonna get compromised.”

“Can you not be a dick for two seconds and be helpful for once?”

“I’m not helpful?” he stood up getting angrier every passing second. 

“God, Bucky get your head out of your ass! Stop taking everything so negatively; this is why I can’t stand you!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, princess,” Bucky walked up to you, pulling you close by wrapping his metal hand around your throat.

“Am I turning you on?” you mocked.

“Shut up!” 

“Or what? You’ll spank me?” you whispered.

“Fucking bitch,” Bucky said before smashing his lips to yours.

He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you burtally. Your lips were swelling as Bucky trailed rough kisses down your throat. You wanted to moan because Bucky’s rough hands touching your body was overwhelming. 

There was a harsh contrast between his hot flesh hand and his cold metal one. You finally gave in after feeling Bucky’s hard dick brushing against your thigh considering he still had only a towel around his waist from his shower. 

“Does that feel good? God you fucking slut; falling apart under a man you hate,” Bucky whispered roughly in your ear.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “Fuck you, Bucky.”

He lifted your shirt and you lifted your arms so he could take it off. You stood up and Bucky fell to his knees in front of you taking your pants while you unclasped your bra. 

Bucky let his poorly wrapped towel fall to the floor as he pushed you down roughly onto the couch once again. Bruising kisses were exchanged and Bucky’s hand traced your stomach following down to between your thighs.

He rubbed roughly but slowly at your clit making your hips wiggle under him. 

“Fucking stay still,” Bucky said. 

“God Bucky, I already don’t like you so teasing me will just make me fume.”

“Then I guess I’ll enjoy every second I get to tease you and pisssed you off.”

“Bucky,” you grunted bucking your hips into his roughly.

“Knock it off,” Bucky grabbed your throat, squeezing gently; sure he hated you and wanted you be quiet but he wasn’t trying to kill. 

“You want me to fuck this pussy? Want it rough? I’ll give it to you rough then,” Bucky said hoarsely, “I'll make you scream and cry from how good my cock is. I’m gonna ruin you, babygirl.”

You whimpered and nearly screamed when Bucky thrusted into you hard and fast. Your hands  held his forearms not in fear but to steady yourself when his hips started moving faster and faster. His hips dug into yours; you were getting sore already from his manic thrusts. 

You moaned loudly and Bucky kepting thrusting into you ferociously chasing his orgasm. You breached the edge yourself, tears forming in your eyes. You sniffled making Bucky look at you with the slightest bit of concern on his face. 

“Is it too much? I thought this is how you wanted it, you fucking cockwhore.”

“Ugh Bucky,” you moaned.

“Come on, Y/n. Cum. Let it go,” he said.

You nearly screamed in euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Bucky came inside you then collapsed on you knocking the air out of your system momentarily. You pushed him off then practically ran to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

Bucky came in you and you could feel the mixtures of both your cum dripping down your thighs. You were on the pill so you just cleaned yourself and quickly showered. When you came up Bucky had dressed himself and was writing stuff on a piece of paper; as if he hadn’t choked the shit out of ou and made you cum so hard you almost passed out. 

“I came up with a plan,” he said, so normally.

“Ok.”

“Look, Y/n-”

“This never happened. We don’t fucking like each other ok? If you tell goddamn soul I will rip you apart limb by limb.”

“Then you can’t tell anyone either,” he pushed.

“As if I’d tell anyone about this.”

“Are you that repulsed by me? Admit it! That the best sex either have had, probably ever.”

“Enough, Bucky. We hate each other.”

“But-”

“James, stop!” you yelled, quieting Bucky.

“Fuck you,” he said walking out.

“The plan’s on the table, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before going to sleep.

You breathed out heavily before grabbing the paper. There was little room to make mistakes but all in all it was a good plan. You went to your own bed seeing Bucky already asleep in the other. You turned off the light and prepared yourself for what was to come tomorrow.

TAGLIST FOR SERIES:

@hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sweetlikesugar9  @thefifthweasley @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @perfectlymaximumphilosopher @kenopsiababe  @montypythonsholysnail

[ac3id]

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pairings: Sub! Kaminari Denki x Dom! FemReader

warnings: characters in this story are 18+, crackfic if you squint, sharing of risqué pictures, phone sex, mutual masturbation, porn with a plot basically  dom yn, sub denki

word count: 2.6k

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we hope you  like it!!! 

masterlist

You stretched your arms behind your back. After a long day of paperwork, you were tired. You bent your fingers one by one until they released that satisfying ‘pop’ sound. Relaxing yourself in your chair you reach for your phone. You go through your social media, text a few friends and then your eyes fall onto boyfriend’s contacts.

Kaminari Denki or better know as Chargebolt. The aspiring Pro-Hero who  graduated from U.A and now the 23 year old was on his journey to becoming a memorable hero. But right now, he was on his bed resting. The blonde had been hit by an energy draining quirk which made it impossible to do athletic tasks. He was advised to rest and that’s what he had been doing for the past three days.

                                                 Dankie

You[23:31]:

You[23:31]: hOWS my FAV BOI DOINGGG ???????????????

Dankie[23:31]: >:(

Dankie[23:31]: traitor ass biTCH

You[23:32]: DENKI LMFAO I SAID I WAS SORRY SILHAKD

Dankie[23:32]: u didnt come visit me today:'''(

You[23:32]: yeah,sorry about that:(((if u werent so fucking clumsy i wouldnt be stuck doing extra hours of EXTRA paperwork>:(

Dankie[23:32]: gO GET THAT BAG Y/NNIE BBIE

Dankie[23:32]: n e ways

Dankie[23:32]: ei missed juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Dankie[23:32]:

You[23:32]: didnt kiri visit tho

Dankie[23:33]: he did but :( ur better

You[23:33]: dfjhskjfd ik i am

Dankie[23:33]: playing uno with him isnt that fun cuz that bitch ALWAYS wins , u lose all the time lmfao i leik winning against u

You[23:33]:

You[23:33]: hows your injury tho bb<3

Dankie[23:33]: idk im gonna go to work like day after tommorrow

Dankie[23:34]: n e ways

Dankie[23:34]: how was your day, beautiful

You[23:34]: terrible, old hag keeps piling me up with work.i dont get paid enough to deal with her shit

You[23:34]: i stg gonna murder her one day.

Dankie[23:34]: awwww my poor ynnie here have a picture of your beautiful boyfriend to light up ur day:)

You[23:35]: its 11 in the night denki

Dankie[23:35]: just let me have this one thing please,

Dankie[23:35]: I HAVE A PICTUER SOMEWHERE IN MY GALLERY WAIT lOOK

Dankie[23:35]: admit it,u ken not resist ur beautiful boyfriend

You were about to text out a sarcastic reply, your fingers hovering over the send key when you noticed Denki had sent a disappearing photo.

Dankie[23:35]: [image8166.jpeg]

You press your thumb over the button to view it in full size,

probably one of his dumbass selfies again

you thought to yourself.

“The fuck!?” you almost scream, eyes blown wide at the sight.

Before you knew it you were confronted by the sight of a dick, his hand wrapped around it resting against his abdomen, spurts of cum decorating the head of his cock and onto his flushed body.

It looked so inviting, so hard and sexy waiting to be played with. It turned you on.

You gulped as you took it all in.

In all honesty the sight made your mouth water, your tongue reaching out to wet you lips as your breathing quickened, your core heating with arousal. Your thoughts running wildly as you inspect the picture, fingers trembling ever so slightly as you work your fingers to quickly take a screenshot of the picture

Dankie[23:35]: u still there yn?

Dankie[23:35]: o shit.yn im so SORRY

Dankie[23:36]:SHIT SHIT IM SO SORRY YN I DIDNT MEAN TO MY FINGER SLIPPED FUCKFUCK IM SO SORRY I UNDERSTAND IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE

Oh Fuck!

Sucking his lips into his mouth, fear took over his senses as he realized that you were about to receive his nude out of nowhere.

nonononononono nO! This couldn't be happening. No!'

Denki quickly pressed the power off button at least eight times, hoping that would change something, but he knew very well it wouldn't. His entire face flamed with embarrassment.

He opened the chat again just to check if it actually sent. Maybe he still had the chance to delete it. He was met with disappointment, the air surrounding him growing heavier, your prolonged silence was making him freak out even more DAMMIT DENKI !!

Dankie[23:36]: Y/N please say soemthing please,

The dreaded 'typing' box appeared on the bottom of the screen, he mentally prepared himself for rejection. Maybe if you ask about it, he could just pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about. Fuck, how did he manage to fuck up this bad?Just then, the sound of his notification stirred him from his thoughts, indicating a reply from you. He reached for the phone,

You[23:37]: that’s a pretty dick, denki

You[23:37]: mommy would love to play with it.

OH My God. Denki internally screamed. He did not know what he was expecting. Granted you both had started going out just recently, a slip up like that was bound to set you off. He expected you being  reluctant about the situation and brushing it of.

He thought of what he should reply and stared texting. His fingers smashed against the keyboard as butterflies danced in his stomach. He could feel himself get hard.

Dankie[23:37]: you’re making me horny, mommy

You[23:37]: fuck, you’re such a naughty boy

You[23:37]: tell me how badly you want me.

Dankie[23:38]: please, my dick is so hard for you right now. I can’t think straight.

Denki’s heart beat quickens whilst he wait for you to reply. His hand slips down his sweats as he starts palming his cock through the cotton of his sweats.

You[23:38]: you like it when mommy talks to you like this, don’t you babyboy?

Dankie[23:38]: yes i do. please don’t stop

You[23:38]: you think you can send these pictures and not face consequences?

You[23:38]: is this turning you on?

Dankie[23:38]: yes. goddamn.

It was a moment before he responded and when he did, he sent an image. Upon opening it, your throat dries out. You see the outline of his erection through his boxers you gulp again as your eyes feast on the main focus of the picture. It made your pussy throb. You couldn’t stop staring, not even when another loud 'ping' sounded through the room.

Dankie[23:39]: Oh God, please fuck me.

You[23:39]: are you teasing me?

Dankie[23:39]: ...what if I am?

Dankie[23:39]: y/n i want you so bad. are you alone right now?

You[23:39]: yes i am.

You[23:39]: such a little slut, aren’t you?

Dankie[23:39]: yes, only for you

Dankie[23:40]: God, you're good at this.

His fingers were pressing the ‘call’ button before he processed his move, thick arousal mixed with frustration clouded his thoughts. His hand palming himself through his boxers and his leg bouncing up and down in anticipation as his phone rang for you.

Your phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Hey, babyboy,” you spoke as soon as he picked up, teasing him. Your voice sultry and low making Denki gulp. The dirty talk was really getting him going.

“Just hearing my voice has gotten you so bothered, huh?” you smirk, feeling your nipples hardening and poking through the fabric of your work shirt

“I'm so lonely and needy right now-”  He shyly admitted, “I need you so bad.” finding himself blush bashfully for you. Flattered and embarrassed at his blunt confession, but still desperate for you. He could hear your breathing on the other side of the phone, it was quick, excited. You heard him take in a deep breath; you could almost see the pink painting his cheeks.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, sending me pictures like that. Tell me when did you take it? Who were you thinking of when you touched yourself?” you rasp into the phone making him gasp.

God, this was like a dream

“It was for you! Everything, You!” He sounded desperate, clinging to release as his member throbbed harder. Biting down on his lower lip, inching to hear your commanding voice over the static.

“Is that so? Well, I am flattered.” Denki smiled to himself hearing the praise. “But, do you seriously think you should be allowed to cum? After all, you touched yourself like a shameless whore. Not to mention, without my permission?”

Denki’s smile fell as he started mumbling apologizes into the phone. He promised he’d never do anything like that ever again. Please, just let him cum.

“You heard me,” You taunted, “Bad boys don’t deserve mommy’s help.” you say, your voice faking disinterest. “Please.”  he begged pathetically. Trying to convince you to help him out.

“Please help me cum.”

“Really?” You scoff, a teasing smirk appearing on your lips. “You seem to be doing just fine on your own.” apologies come rushing over the phone,  “No, no, please! I’ll be good. I’ll be a good boy! I’ll do anything!” he pants, biting the corner of his lip as his hand hovered over his erect shaft. “P-Please, Mommy!’’

You bit back a whine as you clench your thighs together “Okay,” you start, voice as smooth as silk. “Why don’t you reach down and touch yourself for me? Make yourself feel good,”

Denki relishes as hearing your command. He quickly puts the caller on speaker and places it on the stool next to his bed. His fingers pull his sweats down to his thigh, his boxers soon following. His hard cock rest against his stomach, the tip flushed and angry; pre-cum leaking from the slit. His right hand firmly grasp it while his left reaches for his phone.

He moans your name as he pumps his cock using the pre-cum as lube, he hisses and groans lost in utopia until he hears your voice again. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.” you smirk at him failing to stifle his whimpers, clenching his eyes shut as he took a deep, steadying breath before he responding. “Okay, Mommy.” he blushes, submitting himself to you.

Taking the base of his length into his hand, putting the phone closer to his mouth so you could hear his heavy breathing as he traced a finger along the vein decorating his shaft, he moans softly feeling sparks of pleasure erupting throughout his body. Moving his thumb to his drenched tip, vigorously rubbing himself the way you had instructed him to — the action making him crazy, Denki didn't even try to hold back the moans erupting from his mouth as he fucked his hand, wishing it was you.

“You sound so good jerking off to Mommy’s voice.”

“Feels good, huh, babyboy?” you ask. He hums nodding his head. “Feels so damn good.” His hand leaves his dick, coming up to his mouth and spitting on it. Using spit as lube as he began to rub himself, hips bucking against his hand; whimpering your name as his back arches up slightly, the pre-cum and spit making it easier to move his hand quicker moaning and hearing you doing the same. He could hear your breathing get heavier,the anticipation of you masturbating too made his even harder if that were possible.

“There’s a good little slut.” you say with a normal, leveled voice while he struggled on the other side of the phone. You listen to him jerk off, pumping his shaft and moaning out your name. Hearing him pump his cock up and down, you pictured his sitting on his bed, flushed face hand stroking his cock cum oozing out of his slit. Maybe you’ll ask him to lick it up later.

“Are you wet, Mommy?” His voice is soft followed by heavy breathing. “So wet. You have no idea.” your raspy voice filled the empty room.

“I want to taste your pussy, Y/N.” he moaned into the phone. You slip your hand down over your clothed cunt, rubbing against your swollen clit. “Is that so, Denki? Wouldn't you like that? Me sitting on your face? You can eat all you want.”

“God, your pussy sounds so good.” Denki moaned as you adjust the phone closer. “Oh fuck, Denki!" you moan as you sunk down onto your fingers. The scent of sweat and lust lingered through his nose, he scrunched his eyes shut and his head pressed back into his pillow. His mouth was gape open, breathing heavily as he moaned loudly into the phone. “Shit. Mommy." he cursed.

“Mommy, I need your pussy.” you hear him beg, “W-wanna feel it a-around me. Milking my cock s-so good, wanna f-fuck you until you scream,” he speaks between choked moans. You wonder how he’s gotten so bold. “I would fuck your tight pussy so good.” you don’t doubt him at all.

Your fingers rub against your velvety walls, your hips bucking into your hand as you rolled your clit swiftly between your nimble fingers. “I’m gonna fuck you so good once i get my hands on you, babyboy.”

Speeding up his pace, imaging your face Denki let out a growl. Imagining you hovering over his pinned body as you whispered the most dirty words into his ear while pleasuring him. “F-fuck, Y/N.” he whispered, dropping his head back against the pillows as his eyes squeezed shut, his back arching wildly. There was no way he was going to last much longer.

The familiar feeling soon washed over you, your pussy pulsing and clenching around nothing with each delicious rub of your fingers against your clit. Your heart beat fast, your body tingling from the sensation it gave you. Your nether regions throbbing in pleasure. You almost fell, your legs quivering going limp

His stomach was clenching and he knew he was going to cum any second now “Please keep talking. Just a little more, please,” he begged breathlessly, continuing his thrusts for just a little while longer to get over the edge and you did just that.

“I- I’m so close mommy. Can I c-cum?” He bits his lower lip, trying to control his breathing. “Since you've been such a good boy. You can cum, baby.” you said breathlessly.

“Thank you so much, Mommy.”

“I want to hear you while you cum, baby. I want you to feel good, I want to feel good with you.” you choke out.

You wait patiently for his response but it doesn't come. After seconds of silence, you pulls your device away from your ear only to be greeted by the dark screen.

“Oh. He hung up?” you murmur out loud, a bit sad but you decide on not to dwell on it as you slip the phone back into your pocket, figuring his battery might have given up on him. After minutes you hear you phone start buzzing.

Dankie[01:20]: Baby NO. I’M SO SORRY MY PHONE DIED

Dankie[01:20]: Y/N PLEASE SOME BACK I DIDN’T MEAN TOOO

Dankie[01:20]: Y/N PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE COME BAC

You[01:21]: im here!

Dankie[01:21]: i m so sorry my phone died

You[01:22]: did you cum?

Denki feels his cheeks heat up again.

Dankie[01:23]:

A few moments later. A video clip appeared in the chat, you opened it much too quickly.

In the video, Denki had his hand wrapped around his shaft while his other hand was palming over his balls. He pumped himself, “I’m gonna come for you, Mommy.” It appeared he had situated the phone so his entire body was captured by the camera. Your eyes traveled down to his toned body, drinking the sight in. Moan escaped his parted lips, opening his eyes and staring at the camera with playful eyes. His jaw hangs open as he finally releases all he had over his stomach, chanting a string of your name and curses.

“Fuck, I really wish you were here now.” You heard him hiss “Really wish this was your mouth instead of my hand.” he whispered, his agile fingers move swiftly as he collected the white substance and then moving his hand upto his lips. Parting his lips swirling his tongue around his digits, sucking off the creamy substance and moaning louder for you. His eyes darkened with lust and hunger as he swallowed down every last drop, moaning at the taste of his warm cum causing your breath to hitch as much as he let out a series of seductive,soft pants.

“Why don't you come here and ride my cock?”

Your walls tighten around nothing and you immediately got up, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath.

You[01:43]:im coming over. gonna make sure you end up in the hospital for weeks after i'm done with you kaminari denki.

Dankie[01:44]: osiht (｡+･｀ω･´ )

Dankie[01:45]:

@mylovelyreblogs  @amahzing004 @thoughtfulpandazine2 @the-one-who-ate-god @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @villain-hotline @dabiisdaddy @annimalq @reader-stash @rcjackie @leeladebris @expn @vocaloidinlove @edgycactus @neon-tries-writing @shiggydiggydicked​ @yandereguysgalsandmonsterpals @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​ @chxrryvibes​ @yanderesmemory @purple-rabanito @amajikistan99​@the-grimm-writer​ @n4dhii​ @imkumichan​  @akura-ous-lady​ @dabicakes​ @leeknowstoomuch​ @nereida19​ @sahrafinee​ @uwubba​@anime-girl-nikki​ @rekoii​ @badtimechara​ @peachyashell​ @weirdr-artiest​ @prince-zukohere​ @deliciousstar​ @murderfesto​  @mltcp​  @alunafort​  @mrsllawliet​  @babayaga67​ @supernaturaldreamergirl1130​  

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack

Full Moon Run

Summary- 7.3k Alpha!Steve x You. Next day is the full moon run, a ritual important to bonding of wolf packs. Steve learns a bit more of what you dealt with. Warning- Violence and mentions of abuse.  

A/N- Mood Board made by @omega-nicole Thank you babes! Its beautiful and perfect ❤🐺

Chapter One  / Pack Master List

Steve was gone before you even made your way out of bed and in the shower. But the scent of coffee had your nose lead you to the kitchen, and there was a handwritten note set under an empty mug, words scribbled on it in a rush. 

‘Make yourself to home Y/N, be back sometime tonight for the run. ~Steve.’ 

Simple and to the point, your finger brushed over the letters and they were well dry. He's been gone some time, the coffee has a bit of burnt smell from being on the brewer for a while. It didn't matter, you got to indulge a bit. Who would have known something like a ready-made cup of coffee would make you excited. 

Your little wolf lolled on her back and stretched her legs out, twisting her body back and forth like she was scratching her back. <Because you weren't allowed these basic things before Y/N> 

I remember, trust me I haven't forgotten. You thought back as you lifted the mug to sip the black coffee, and searched out for a sugar bowl. Once you found it, you scooped in enough for a taste and looked around the cabin. Alone once again, you smiled to yourself. Honestly, this kind of life you could get used to. Morning coffee out on the deck, have the freedom to be in your human side or wolf side. Not have your old alpha breathing down your neck, controlling all your movements. Your hand absently came to an old scar on your shoulder, rubbing at it as it started to ache. One of the many bites you've been issued from your old pack. Although never properly claimed, you would never lose any of them. 

Shaking it off, you popped open the door and came out to see that The Compound was bustling, trucks coming and going from the large garage at the other end of the clearing, a bunch of kids were herded into another vehicle, and across the lot, Sara headed over with a greeting, a wave of her hand before she got close enough to speak. “Hey, I was heading into town, you wanted to come? Can hook you up with some clothes and such.” 

You look down at your outfit. Wearing a woman's named Wanda's shorts, and wearing the oversized tee that you had a feeling belonged to Steve, knotted at your side so it wouldn't fall almost to your knees. “I would but... well I didn't come with anything. I don't have any cash or such.” You tried to shrug off your situation and Sara dug in her pocket pulling out a card. “Steve dropped this off to me this morning, and we know Alphas don't take no for an answer. Might as well come along and get what you want.” 

“I don't know...” You started, rubbing at your arm. “Steve didn't exactly say I could leave the grounds. And I don't want to upset the Alpha already.” Sara frowned and shook her head, smiling. “Trust me, Steve isn't like that at all. He won't mind, I know he wants you to have what you need while you're here. If you want, I can call him? I know Sams got his phone on him, and they went up together to the lot.” 

You finally give in, and finish off the last swallow of your coffee. “Okay, I trust you. Give me five and I will be ready to go.” You pop back in the house and Sara comes up the steps, following you in to wait. Going to the bathroom, your finger brushes your hair, glancing around to see if Steve happened to keep a comb or something. Probably in his room, but you weren't risking that again. 

<Chicken shit> your little wolf snickered, and you rolled your eyes at your reflection, muttering under your breath. “your such a bitch.” 

<Sure we are> sharp yips echoing in your mind as laughter. Deeming yourself looking fine, you come back out, lifting the back of your shorts back up as they slid down a bit, scowling. “Clothes are desperately needed. These are just too big.” 

“That's the spirit” Sara loped and arm through yours, and ou two headed out of the cabin and to a vehicle that Sara dug keys out of her back pocket. You two headed out of the compound, and you couldn't help a bit of the panicked feeling, which Sara must have picked up on. Your breathing and heart race both lifting slightly. “Hey, I promise he's okay with this. Giving a nod, and taking a deep breath, your little wolf shook out her nerves before settling back down. 

<Steve won't hurt us.> Stated so sincerely and with conviction, you let yourself agree, and settled in the seat, taking in the scenery and Saras talking about how she and Sam met. You couldn't help but smile to yourself listening, it was apparent how much she loved her mate. For the first time in a long time, you just did something as normal as hanging out and shopping. You were happy, as well as your little wolf, although there was the occasional pining for Steve, which you promptly continued shutting that down with frustration. If you don't stop, I'm throwing up the maze for you to work through... 

<You got enough, let's go home.> prancing in places, her tail wagging at the idea. You couldn't help but smile at how happy your wolf side was now. There wasn't cowering aggression constantly rippling through you anymore. Soon, we will head back to the cabin. 

<Home.>

Maybe home. Were not sure yet. 

<After tonights run, it will be home.> you're yanking a shirt off over your head, retorting back. Its been a whole day, and who knows if we're still being hunted? You are so damn ready to bond with this male, and then what? That's it. This is where we will always belong.

<What's wrong with that?>

Before you could even answer your wolf, or pause Sara at the dressing room door since you were distracted between the two simultaneous happenings at the same time, the door open. "So I thought this color- oh sweetie" she gasped at your back. Grabbing the shirt you had just pulled off and holding it to your front, trying to spin out of sight, but this is a dressing room, and there was no hiding from all the mirrors behind you. 

"Are you okay?" Sara is sure to close the door and you still clutching the shirt. "Who did that to you?"

"It doesn't matter.... " shame floods your face and your little wolf whines while wrapping around herself, a soft quivering ball in your mind going down your spine. "Please... Don't say anything, I don't want anyone knowing." I don't want Steve knowing. 

Sara breathed out and her gaze went from the mirror to your face, that looks of sadness just bringing more shame. Her hands came up to cup your face and make you look at her. “I won't say anything, it is your story to tell. But if you want to, I'm right here. Steve too, he would want to know.” You wolf whined at his name, the feeling of yearning rolling through your chest, to have him see you and not turn away. But your last Alpha deemed you useless to mate, to marked with bites to bond with anyone. Why being collared and sold was your only option. 

“Thanks Sara... I think I'm ready to head back.” You say softly and go to pick up your shirt and slip it back on, all the memories and feelings slipping back darkly in your eyes. 

Sara gathered up the clothing you had picked, worried features pinching her face. “Let me just ring these up sweetie and we will head on home.” 

Miles away Steve stood to survey the damn delimber they used to clean the logs, arms folded over his chest until he lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing. Sam, he's underneath it, hands up in the machine, looking at parts. 

“Mmmhh, Just as I thought, they stuck that oversized pine into it and jammed it all up. These parts are gonna take at least a couple weeks to replace.” He rolled out from underneath and stood, brushing off his backside. 

“Standstill?” Steve asked, his headache starting to form at his temples. Not that they would be financially strapped, but there was a large order coming in, and they had won the bid to fulfill it. Steve always made sure to deliver on time, and this set back might be pushing that back, in any business, it was all about the name and word of mouth. Something he had worked fucking hard on in the years he's been Alpha. 

“Not quite, gonna be a bitch though. Clean them up by hand, it will be slow though.” Sam stated honestly, and rubbed the back of his neck, a slight bit of hesitation in his voice. “Or, you can contact Stark, see if he has the parts on hand. I know you've been wanting to drive up there to discuss Nat and Clint coming back from there internship in New York.” 

Steve remained silent, staring at the broken piece of machinery, willing it to be fixed. <If you study that thing any harder, you are gonna give us a migraine.> His wolf huffed, impatient. The beast didn't like staying still, studying, thinking. Wanting action, to do something, anything besides just staring. Well what do you think we should do, wait on the parts, or ask Stark Towers for help? 

<I think you should just get done this crap and let's go home to our mate. I bet shes back now, and just as ready to see you.> The wolf stated smugly, is no help in his current predicament. 

You know what... So am I. Checking his watch, he decided it was time to just call it a day. All of this, well it would be a problem to deal with in the morning. Maybe that would bring him the answer he needed. “Let's pack it up Sam, it's getting late, and I can think about which we should do.” 

Sam broke out in a relieved grin, grabbing some of the tools he had used, and tossed them in the back of the pickup. “I'm not gonna say no to that. Sara sent me a message that she was done shopping with Y/N, and they were headed back.” Grabbing the walkie off the passenger seat, he pushed the button, hearing it crackle then turn to a hollow soft hum, he spoke telling everyone they were knocking off early and shut it all down. The woods slowly stopped humming with the sound of machines miles away in another lot. Another cackle with a “Sure thing Wilson” and it went silent. 

Hearing that You had spent a day out shopping made Steve warm, blossoming with soft happiness swirling from his stomach and up to his neck, turning his ears red at the thought of you twisting in a mirror to see all of you. Now he wished he was there handing you the clothes, have you model for him, see the way your eyes would light up and your cheeks bloom pink with his compliments. Of course his wolf appreciated the visual image, pressing for more control, making Steve get behind the wheel with Sam and drive just a bit faster back. 

When is the last time we've been excited to return home? Steve considered, fingers thrumming on the steering wheel as they pulled off the logging road to Route 2, speeding along to The Compounds entrance. 

<It's been a while since life's been this good.> The large wolf shook himself out, itching for the little wolf at home. <Full Moon run we will get to see her set free for the first time.> 

That made Steve smile more thinking about getting to see you shift. Having only seen you once, your wolf had been a beauty to him. Long-legged for swift travels that wolves in the south typically had. You were still smaller in size next to the northern packs such as there pack was, with a long slender muzzle that ended in a pointed nose. Large eyes that at the time were fearful. This time he hoped to see the joy in them. 

When Steve and Sam parked the truck, the two men stepping out and discussing tomorrow's plans for the crew tomorrow, Steve inhaled your scent, and whipped his head around, searching. Upon the front porch, both You and Sara are lounging in the deck chairs, feet kicked up on the railing, and a glass of iced tea in each of your hands, laughing together. Neither of you realized that that the men were back, but as they approached, Sara dropped her feet and jumped up to lean over the railing, see them. “Well look what old mutts finally arrived back! we've been waiting for you.” Sam paused and his hands went to his hips. 

“Woman, you gonna come say hello, or am I gonna have to come up there and drag you down?” A wide grin flashed her teasing, and she skipped down the stairs and raced over to him, jumping in his arms to give him a racy kiss and playful ones all over his face. “Missed you Stud.” That just made Sam grin, and let her fall back to her feet, her arm wrapping around him. Steve in the meantime walked up the steps, and you to had come to a stand to welcome the Alpha home. 

<I can tell you how to welcome him home. Look at him! He wants you to be all his like those two.>

Please give it a rest! You plead as you take in the sight of Steve coming up the porch steps, his hair a mess, they tee clung to his chest where he must have sweated at some point. Yes, yes he did, cause that just barely hit you too. Normally someone's scent would make you pull back a bit, but not his. It warmed through you, screaming MAN in your mind. Healthy and strong, your Little Wolf appreciated it, rumbling out. <Alpha, even in human form. He certainly wouldn't tire easily...> Teasing lilt to her tone. 

God your really a bitch.

Steve was looking you up and down, once he saw your outfit, his gaze seemed pleased at the choice you made, and although simple, nothing more than a pair of denim shorts, and still that men's tee tied in a knot just a few inches above the top of your shorts, he seems to fully approve of the relaxed look. “Do you want me to go get you a beer? Or make an iced tea like Sara and I are having?” 

“No, I got it. I heard you went out with Sara. I hope you were able to get everything you needed?” 

“Oh yes, thank you... you didn't have to do that Steve. But I appreciate it.” his wolf rumbled happily hearing you, and although the two of you weren't touching, you were close enough that Steve could just reach out, brush fingers along the curve of your face, grasp your chin... Enough! 

<Shes close, see the way her eyes are taking us in? She sees were strong and would protect her. If you would just make the first fucking move!>

“It was not a problem Y/N, nothing I wouldn't do for anyone.” and your eyes seemed to shut off a bit, pull back at Steve's words, leaving his wolf growling and snapping at Steves behavior. Giving an awkward nod as he reached for the door, Steve escaped inside, and you breathed out a held breath, a bit taken aback from his comment. 

Your Little Wolf paces now unsettled, nuzzling into you as she knows your upset feeling. <He cares, he's just afraid of pushing you.> so calmly said, you sink into your thoughts. I don't know, maybe I misread the situation. Besides, this is what I wanted. Nobody special, I'm just a member of this pack. You glance at the closed door. <No you haven't! Just wait, the run will prove it. I feel his wolf calling to me. Why do you keep lying to me?> You have nothing to respond with, and turn your attention to Sam and Sara coming up on the porch. Sam sat in Sara's previous chair, and Sara perching on his lap, falling right back into conversation with You. You make yourself pay attention, ignoring Steve's comment from earlier. Or trying to. 

On the other side of the door, Steve leaned against it, cursing under his breath. “Son of a fucking bitch, why did I say that?” he pulls away and tugs off his dirty shirt, balling it up and as he went into the bedroom, he tossed it with frustration at the hamper, still mentally cursing himself out for the sheer awkwardness that made him up. 

<I don't know either, I mean you just let me take over, your mate wouldn't be out on the stoop now trying to figure out your mixed fucking signals.> 

Opening his closet door, Steve grabbed a plain grey tee and tugged it on. And what do you know about any of this? She's here for protection, not to be my next anything. He snapped back as he headed into the bathroom, and ran the water to let it warm up. Soaping his hands and scrubbing vigorously before cupping to splash water in his face. <Well I know enough not to let her think she's not wanted> The large wolf roared back in frustration and as Steve dried his face, and looked up in the mirror, he stared back at yellow eyes staring back at him, not his usual blue. The wolf was pissed off, and threatening to finish taking control. Grasping the edge of the sink, he let his head dip so he didn't have to see it anymore, dragging in air deeply and letting it out slowly. The next time he glanced at himself, all was normal. The wall he slammed up in this mind would control his beast... for now. 

On his way back out, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and stepping out on the porch, he rejoined the three of them, handing Sam the beer before leaning back against the railing. The two women were animated talkers, telling Sam all about there shopping trip. Steve admired how your hands would wave in the air, and your head would tip back, long tresses of hair falling down your back as you laughed. The anger he felt dissipated in your presence, and you would look up at him with a grin, and what he wouldn't do to be the one making you feel this way. 

“And here we are.” Sara leaned back against Sam's chest, taking his beer bottle and taking a drag off it. “Y/N, how you feeling about the run tonight?” The Little Wolf pranced joyfully to be able to run in a pack again, and you hug around yourself for a moment, Steves eyes flicking to see the defensive move you made, even your scent changed slightly to him. Tinged with fear, although your smile remained on your face. “Excited, it has been a while since I've been able to do something like that. A long while... “ You drifted off and picked up the iced tea glasses. “Excuse me please.” You dipped inside and Steve pushed off the railing, taking another drag of beer. 

“Meet up with you two later?” Steve went towards the door, and Sam picked up on what he was saying, tapping Sara's thighs. “Come on Baby, how about you come to show me what you bought.” The two of them standing, Sara bit her lip and looked towards where you had disappeared. “Steve....” Sara drifted off, and Steve looked over his shoulder with an arched brow at the woman. She waved it off suddenly and went down the remaining stairs. “See you later.” Taking Sam's hand, the two-headed off. 

Weird... Steve popped open the door and went inside to see you remaking more teas. “They headed on back home till later tonight.” He let his elbows leaning on the counter while you paused. “Don't worry, I will take Saras.” Reaching out to take it, you chuckle just as he took a swallow and winced. 

“I haven't put the bit of sugar in it yet Steve.” Chuckling as you took it back and sprinkled some in. “I would have said goodbye if I known.” 

“You will see her again in just a bit,” Steve started and watched as you finished making yours. “Y/N earlier when we were discussing the run, were you okay?” The wolf perked back up at this, his ears straining towards the woman, silent though. They were both vividly aware of her nervousness at the question. 

“Sure Steve. Wh-Why do you ask?” You are not looking at him, seeming to avoid his gaze, watching with interest at the glass before you, the spoon spinning the liquid around and around. Steve reached forward once more and took the glass from you, and set it aside. 

“Y/N, please look at me.” His voice was different this time, and Steve could see the inner battle crossing your face. A bit stubborn? You have been nothing but compliant since you've arrived, and this surprised him a bit. <Tell her again, we have to find out what's wrong.> Steve tilted his head though instead and tried to catch your gaze, his tone sterner this time. This was absolute. Your Little Wolf wouldn't let you disobey him anymore. “Y/N, look at me?” This time he saw your features smooth and you did look up at him. “because you smelled of fear, If you are afraid to do this, You don't have to.” Pushing off the bar, he instinctively circled the counter to stand near you, a hand lightly touching your arm, hoping that you would be able to answer him. 

“Sorry, yes, I'm very excited about this. I haven't... I haven't been allowed to run with a pack in over a year.” You tried explaining, and Steve frowned at this. Being denied to run with your pack? It was everything a wolf craved, the closeness, working together. Steve had never thought of denying any of the packs the right to run together, and his wolf growled with a bristle of fur along his spine. <What kind of Alpha is this? He doesn't lead a pack with honor, denying his wolves the run.> Steve let it sink in that you've been semi-isolated as a wolf. 

<We need her to tell us everything that this Alpha is doing, selling wolves, denying the run... what else could the Alpha have done to her?> 

We will see if she tells us. 

“Y/N, why would he deny that to you?” Steve asked and you wrinkled your nose to keep from letting your emotions take over. Picking up your glass and taking a swallow, you set it back down, your nails tapping against it. “Because I was to be collared and sold. I was kept away from the pack with the other unmated wolves. That way we wouldn't find a partner in the run. He would lose his income.” You wipe at your face and ask softly. “Please... can you release me? Let me look away.” 

It took a minute till it clicked for Steve that you were serious, your eyes big and round staring at him, shining with held back tears, he suspected now from being forced to listen. “Of course, you can do whatever you want Y/N, you don't have to look at me anymore.” And you lost the rigid attention, seeming to sink in on yourself. Head bowed, shoulders dropped a bit with a shudder. Taking your glass of iced tea, you skirted around Steve, keeping your voice low “Was there anything else you needed right now Alpha?” 

“No... no. We will come to find you for the run in a couple of hours.” How hard did he restrain himself from reaching out to touch you, give comfort at your unease. But you didn't seek it, and he wasn't going to force it on you. Promptly you disappeared to your room. Once you were out of sight, Steve didn't look away from your door, processing everything he had just learned. 

<Her free will had been taken away... She would have obeyed us if we told her to harm herself.> His wolf whined out, ears pinned back against his skull at the unease of the situation.  

Why we will not use that on her again if we can help it... and it's time to find out more about this pack. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, and sent a text to Bucky explaining what he needed to be done. He received a simple text back with a “Done” and set his phone aside. It also reminded Steve he needed to get back with Stark about his wolves on an intern with him. If the twins Natasha and Clint were back, he would have sent them. Glancing outside, Steve noticed the moon starting to edge over the lake, and he found solace in that. At least he could be the one to give her the first run in over a year. And tonight's moon looked like a Super Moon, large glowing orb that would recharge them. Tonight will be a good night... 

Later you heard a knock on your door and you stirred in your bed. “Y/N, it's time... “ Steve poked his head in and flashed a grin of excitement that made him almost child-like. Swinging your legs off the bed, you can't help but catch that excitement, and stretch out any kinks in your back. Your Little Wolf started hopping and slapping her front paws in anticipation, just feeding your mood. 

“I'm kinda nervous” You breath out as you pass Steve, and head for the door, you're biting your lip as you look over your shoulder at him, grinning. Any discomfort from your earlier conversation just seems magically gone as both of you slip more into the wolves personas. As you opened the door, Steve came up behind you, tickling along your hips. Laughing, you sprang out of reach and leaped off the porch, and spun on your feet in the soft grass to face him, smirking as you looked up at him tugging off his shirt to toss it aside. Your breath sucked in, and fingers flexed wanting to drag your hands across his pecs, through the hair dusting down beyond his slightly softer stomach. Even your Little Wolf stopped her exciting dance, licking her muzzle with a sweep of her tongue, whimpering. 

<Y/N....> whining out and you whimpered yourself inwards, taking a teasing step back from the Alpha who started to stalk you playfully down the steps. Trust me, I see... You bolt away before he can even reach you, racing down the path where you see other people similarly playing with each other, Steve was quick to catch you, and swinging you up where he grasped your waist, your feet kicking out and laughing. Prying at his fingers, you growled at him with flashing wolf eyes. “You don't seem too nervous right now Y/N, growling at your Alpha,” Steve stated against your ear, inhaling deeply against your neck while setting you down, and your dancing away from him, your legs stretching and twisting, making you itch to shift. Your breathing was coming out in rushes at being so close, pressed against the wall of his chest, his scent having washed over you and making your body ache for so much more. 

<You can have more if you let him. I told you he wanted you.>

He's caught up like I am in the full moon, that's all it is. The Little Wolf snaps a bit at you in frustration.  

Steve pulled up quick to admire you dancing through the moonlight, your head tipped back to be washed in the light, your eyes shimmering in the wolfish way as they reflected the moonlight when you looked back at him. <Shes so beautiful Steve, this is the way she's supposed to be. Your mate, dancing in the moonlight.> And Steve really couldn't rebut the Wolf's observation at this moment. “You haven't given me a reason to be.” You turn and say simply, and before he could respond, Sara came jogging over, Wanda in tow. “Were stealing out girl here!” Sara sass's while booking an arm through Your arm, and Wanda takes over the other side, smirking at Steve, who's folding his arms over his chest. 

“Oh really, and what if I say no?” Steve retorts. Leaving Sara snorting at him, the two women already dragging you away. “Since when do we listen to you?” Slight amount of panic races through you. <He didn't say we could go Y/N, you have to go back before he gets angry!> and you're about to pull away from the women to return to the Alpha. 

Steve watched as Sara and Wanda started to lead you away when he saw your back tense up and the way you glanced at him over your shoulder. Even your scent was once more tinged with fear, now picking up that sharp sting in his inhale that mingled with your usual honeysuckle softness. Before his wolf could point out the obvious to him, he nodded at you, letting you know it was okay, you were safe to go. It was immediate, the change of relief, and you turned back to follow along with Wanda and Sara to join other women, as was how their pack started to run. 

Breathing in deeply, it surprised Steve how easily he was able to follow you, easily picking you out of the other mingled scents that made up the pack, and content that you were safe, excited and he would be seeing you within a few minutes, he decided it was officially time to start. Not bothering to go down to the lower field where the males were showing off moments of bravado and boasting as large groups of the male species did, Steve lost the last of his clothing and started to let the wolf take over. Although uncomfortable, it was fairly quick for shifters. Their bodies melding from human to wolf. When he opened his eyes again, the world was different, the night now belonged to him and he was more than ready to claim it. The silver beast tossed his head back and paid homage to the moon, officially starting the pack run. Answers called back, some as sharp yips and others as low dragged out songs. 

You had never met Wanda, but her scent was familiar as the borrowed clothes. Just as with anyone you've met so far aside from Bucky, she introduced herself and that was it, you were her packmate and she treated you as if she's known you for years. “We better be quick.” She states as she lets you go and starts tugging at her clothing, yanking it off without any hesitation, and the others around you are doing the same. A bit more tentative, trying to keep your back hidden you start doing the same. Tossing a shirt and dragging down your pants, already Sara has shifted, a sleek black wolf and Wanda is right behind her, and red wolf stretching out with long front legs stretching behind her, head was thrown back to the moon. Sara tilts her head towards you waiting as Steves howl starts. Soon you're surrounded by howling wolves, and your own Little Wolf is pushing to join. 

Releasing her, she was quick to take over and your howls are dipping right in with the rest. A ripple went through the pack, as haunches coiled underneath and a wave of wolves leaped forward, moving into the forest beyond The Compound. Sara waved her tail, and you to stretched out to run alongside her, brushing up against her as the two of you worked in sync, soon passing others on your left and right. It's not long before the larger males join, weaving among the females, snapping at them in play, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Sara pull up, and twist into a mottled brown wolf. Recognizing Sam from the day before. She leaped at her mate, brushing up against him and nipping under his chin. The pair weaved around each other, fondly biting each other's ruffs and showing affection in the way wolves do. 

Your fast run slowed to a jog, letting your nose lead you now. Once in awhile another wolf would brush up against you, enticing you in play. Slapping front paws against the pine needles, tail high in the air, waving above you like a flag before you two would charge at one another. This, this is what you missed when with your previous pack. How your Little Wolf leads you two through the night with fleeting bursts of speed. Your howl, rang clear as a bell being struck through the night. 

Steve cocked his head listening to the wolves' cries, picking you out right away, the large Alpha spun in place, his nose high in the air, seeking... until he found you. With a loose jog, he followed the tail like bread crumbs, his tongue lolling out to taste the air, and a swipe over his muzzle like a beast getting ready for dinner. Finally he saw you, teasing another packmate with leaps and bounds, back and forth chasing one another through the brush. You twisted away from yawning jaws and snapped back in play till you saw Steve. Shaking out your fur vigorously, your ears perked at him, yellow eyes flashing in the darkness at him. Rolling forward into a lope, you packed up to him, and lowered to your belly in submission to your Alpha, sidling up underneath his chin, and licking nibbling at him. The wolf softened, and nuzzled back, gentle as he bit the top of your muzzle, accepting that you now belonged to him, his packmate as well.

So easily the wolves accepted each other, now if only the humans could as well.  

Once he let go, you nipped playfully at his ear, tugging it and brushing alongside, the two of you bounding off as a pair, soon catching up with the rest and bypassing them as well. The only other pair matching you two was Sara and Sam, long-legged leaps eating up the ground, you couldn't pass up the challenge that the two of them gave, and with a burst of speed, you pulled away from the large silver wolf matching you, your legs stretching and claws barely grazing the pine needles before they flew out again, Sam huffed at being beaten watching your tail whisk at him with a laughing bark from you. 

The Alpha had never seen anything quite like it, Sam had many years ago earned the nickname Falcon for his speed, but here you were, outpacing him easily. Your sleek fur brushing back, and your muzzle sharp and streamlined you. Like a bird of prey spiraling into a dive, you twisted in the air once you got to the border, paralleling yourself along no man's land, the rest of the pack came up from behind. Soon you eased up, falling back to pace with Steve, your nose low to the ground, tracking the border scent. Half the pack weaved out to the right, the large group ominous to any that might challenge them. Steve relaxed into your touch every time you weaved back into him, your scents now intermingling, becoming as much as an imprint on others as it was on you. You were now officially part of the mountains, losing the scent of your old pack life. 

It was early hours when the pack returned to The Compound, weaving among each other, tiredly pacing with each other. Adults carried pups from the scruff if they were small enough, heads hanging low enough that the pups backsides would bounce a time or two off the soft grass, even Steve is carrying one back, the pups yawning, and blue eyes blinking sleepily up at him, licking at his chin before his head flops down to give a tiny snore. You follow along next to Steve, chuckling at the dangling pup. Soon his mother comes and collects him, bounding off towards home. 

Home... what a thought for you. You never really expected any place to feel like home, but as you pause going up the wooden steps, Steve not far behind, you watch as the rest of the pack settle down wherever they were content. A few stayed outside, circling one another in mismatched pairs, tucking head over another's back, and giving a sigh. Some returned home, Sara and Sam trotted past, still playfully nipping at one another and giving a yip in greeting before they went towards there own cabin. Steve brushed past you, mouthing your ear with affection before he went inside, you right behind, and to your room. The human persona edging for control again and a leap sent you into bed. 

You were laying there, right on the edge of a deep sleep when a hand muffled over your mouth and a sneering face loomed over you, whispering. “Make a fucking noise, and your throat is ripped out before I die.” Your eyes go wide in panic, and your hands go to claw at his chest, trying to push away. Where was Steve?!?! Your Little Wolf is snarling, pushing to shift but to exhausted from the run earlier, and your body ripples in the frustration and pain, causing you to tell out before your back to your human self. Outside you hear loud snarls of wolves fighting each other and the man cursed, that's when it clicks it's the Tracker on your trail just a couple of days ago. Grabbing you by the arm to drag you out. 

Steve is sound asleep when his senses tingle. <Intruder... someone is in the house.> His eyes shot open, and quiet as he moves to get up, yanking on a pair of sweats near the bed. Soft steps send him to the door, and his wolf is bristling in silence, honed in for any noise that might be made by the individual. It certainly wasn't anyone he knew but did carry your old scent. That's when he heard the scramble in your room, and he burst into the hallway, your scream of pain making his fist slam against the door. The door was thrown to embed into the wall, and the man had his arm fisted around your neck, wrenching your head back, you're trying to connect a fist or foot at him to release you, and Steve takes this all in a glance before he's tackling at the man, ripping him to release you, where you fall to the ground, trying to drag air back in your lungs and coughing. 

Now Steve has the upper hand, dragging the man from his house, his oversized hands wrapped along the back of his neck, ready to snap it with a twist the other fisted in his shift to haul him along. Kicking his front door open, outside was a whole other scene. Bucky must have caught the second intruder, the lookout outside the cabin as he was returning home from his time in the town. Blood streaked down his white chest and along the side of his muzzles, the wolf at his feet dead. Steve snarled in the man's ear. “You better start fucking talking or that's going to be you in five seconds.” Fingers digging in threat along the back of his neck just above the spine, the man tried twisting in his hold at an attempt to save his life. “NOW TRESPASSER" 

“She's not yours! My brother and I were told to bring her back to our Alpha. He didn't release her, you cant lay any kind of claim to her. “ The man's voice panicked, eyes rolling up at Steve looming above him. “It's our job, our Alphas command.” Just as he's saying this, you step out onto the porch, tears streaming down your face. You knew this was what would happen, Pierce never let anyone get away from him, not unless it was with death or from a sale. Steve happened to see you, and lowly growled out. “Go back inside Y/N....” But you took another step forward to descend the stairs. His anger at the situation left Steve roaring out. “Right Now" and you had to listen. Your wolf couldn't disobey her Alpha, and you raced back inside, the door yawning open to show the darkness of the interior. Now that Steve was sure you were away from the men, the pack coming out to gather around, Sam racing up alongside Bucky to kneel near the dead wolf and inspect him. 

“I have a message for your Alpha, the only reason I'm not killing you,” Steve growled out as he twisted his hand, strength making the man cry out. How easy would it be to snap his neck right now. “Tell your Alpha if he wants her, he has to come to get her from me.” Tossing him away to sprawl against his dead brother, Bucky snapping right at his face, spit and blood scattering across the man's face like splatter, leaving him blinking in shock at the white wolf. Steve snarled out. “Get out of here, and be sure to haul your brother away to. Count yourself fucking lucky. If you come back, I will rip your throat out.” Sam and a few others ready to escort them right out of town. Bucky sighed almost wearily as they marched away, and Steve dropped a hand to his friends back. “Thank you Buck.” The white wolf eased away, leaving Steve alone. 

Inside your panicking, your chest aching and pacing around. Steve came in to find you wide-eyed, his shift hanging loosely whipping around you as you snap back and forth between the kitchen and living room, there wasn't much space in between so if you went like that for long, sure to wear a hole in the floor. 

<Go to her... she needs to know it's okay, that you are here to protect her.>

“Y/N... “ Steve starts, but you snap out instead. 

“I knew, I knew this would happen. I didn't go far enough, I should have gone further north. He's coming, he's coming to destroy you all and drag me back. I can't fucking believe I caused this, Fuck fuck fuck, Steve I'm so sorry I brought this on.” 

Before you could continue, you twist to go the other way and slam into Steve's bare chest, his hands wrapping around you. You are momentarily struck into confusion, pulling away, but his voice is soft against your ear, calling you to attention. “Hush, you didn't do anything wrong, and nothing is going to happen to us. Let him come... the man needs to be removed from what he did to you what he is doing.” Your panting as your forehead least against the center of his chest, and he loosens his hold now that you are not fighting him, keeping it loose around you. 

“I shouldn't have brought it to your doorstep, Steve.” You cry out softly, unable to hold it back anymore. Warm tears fall on his chest, and he rumbles softly. 

“I'm fucking glad you did Y/N.” He allowed himself to let his head drop to press a kiss at the crown of your head. Let them try to claim you...  

<Oh yes... please let them try.> The Silver Wolf grinned in the darkness of his mind, wickedly curved canines flashing white, just waiting to be used. 

Tags- @what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @official-and-unstable-satan @kimisama1989 @stardancerluv @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @alexakeyloveloki @ayamenimthiriel @irishflutiegirl @fallenoutofrose @caffiend-queen @southerngracela​ @bigandprettyyyy @djeniiscorner​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater  @rinkashirikitateku

[flamencodiva]

Hunter Encyclopedia: 2 in the Morning

Description:  Y/N has traveled the world and faced every kind of monster imaginable which is why the nickname Hunter Encyclopedia, or H.E. for short has stuck.  She grew up in the hunting business and knew all about the Winchesters and read the Carver Edlund books before they came to ask her for help. Sam is the researcher and Dean is the action man, or at least that is what she thought, but could she have been wrong?

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventual), Sam x Reader (Platonic Friendship)

Warnings: Supernatural level Violence.

A/N:  written for @spndeanbingo​

Square filled: 2 in the Morning 

Word Count: 6717

This is also for @supernatural-jackles​ Bi-weekly Challenge. 

Prompts I used:  I dare you to kiss me and  I don’t owe you an explanation

A/N 2: Border by @talesmaniac89​ Beta’d by @emoryhemsworth​ and a special thanks to @waywardbeanie​ for the amazing summary!

Dean paced at the foot of the motel beds with his cell phone in his hands. It had been a few weeks since he talked to Y/N “Hunter Encyclopedia” Y/L/N. Even after the conversation they had last time they met, she still seemed to put Dean in a very peculiar box. It annoyed the elder hunter when Sam would get a phone call from her asking about specific research topics she would need, but never seemed to ask about him. Honestly, what made him hesitate to call was how she would react to it, but right now he and Sam were desperate. 

Right now they were dealing with some form of Chinese monster that they stumbled upon. Dean got excited because the witness they were talking to had said the word Mogwai. The first thing that popped into Dean’s head was the movie Gremlins, but he had to be careful. He, more than anyone else, knew that sometimes stories changed over time. Naturally, one only had to look at the vampire lore to know that garlic did jack shit to them. Lifting his head from the phone in his hand, he looked at the clock on one of the motel nightstands. 

2:00 am 

Would she even be awake? If she was a hunter, most likely, but could he really risk calling her and waking her up from the rest she needed? He could feel Sam’s eyes on him before the movement made Dean turn his head. 

“Don’t you dare,” he called out, finger pointing at his younger brother. “I’m going to call, I just need to know what to tell her.” 

“You mean you need to figure out how you’re going to flirt with her,” Sam sighed as he flipped the page of the book he was reading. “Can you just call her and tell her we have an unknown Chinese monster and so far all we got is the word Mogwai?” 

“I was not thinking of a way to flirt with her, I just… shut up,” Dean huffed. “I know what I need to say so I’ll call her,” he declared looking down at his phone once the screen awoke from its slumber. 

Sam watched as Dean started the call, placing his phone to his ear. The younger Winchester couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of how his older brother was acting. It was rare to see Dean stumble over a girl, let alone someone who brushed him off easily. Sam chuckled when Dean’s back straightened. He figured that Y/N answered his call. 

“Y/N, Dean Winchester,” Dean said as he smiled brightly. “Sorry for calling so late, Sam and I—” Sam watched as he paused and tilted his head in amusement. “Is that the Thundercats theme song?” Dean sounded like a kid being told he was getting ice cream. “Right, sorry, I just—yeah, about my call…Sam is a bit tied up at the moment, we have a very strange case going on.” Sam shook his head as Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain, I think it’d be great if you could meet us where we are.” 

“Dean, if you could describe what’s going on it would save me the trip,” Y/N’s voice rang in Dean’s ear. He could hear the hesitation in her voice at meeting up with them again. 

“Y/N, we really need fresh eyes on this. I mean, all we got is one word out of one of the witnesses, an elderly Asian man,” Dean turned his back on Sam and bit his lip. “I’m not sure what it means or how to even say it, the guy spelled it out in Chinese,” he lied through his teeth. 

“I mean, my Chinese isn’t the best,” he heard her sigh. “You know you can send me the picture of the word and I can have an expert look it up for you if you can’t find one.”

God, she was being difficult. 

“Y/N,” Dean practically whined, “Sam and I could really use your help here. You helped us out with Ladon, you were quick on your feet,” Dean pleaded. “We could really use you. I mean, what better team could you have to hunt an unknown Chinese monster than the Winchesters and the Human Encyclopedia, Y/N Y/L/N, huh?” 

“Dean,” he heard her all but whimper. “Fine,” she gave in, “give me your location, but so help me, if this is information you could have just given me over the phone I will kick you in your balls.”

“Come on,” Dean chuckled, “you know you’re dying to get to know the real me, I can tell. Besides, who says we can’t have a fun little adventure figuring this thing out? You can write about it in your journal for future generations to find.” 

“I’d prefer it if this ended up as artifacts of things we never have to do anymore,” she grumbled. “Hunting is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy.” 

Dean let out a low whistle. “You have a heart of gold, sweetheart,” he licked his lips. “Sam and I are in LA. Seems this thing decided to hit up Chinatown,” Dean let out a soft chuckle. “You know they have great food here, not to mention all the iconic places.” 

“Are you asking me to be there for a hunt or to treat me like a tourist?” she asked. 

Dean heard when she stopped packing her things to go join them. 

“The hunt, of course!” Dean scoffed in mock offense, “After we take this thing down we can just kick back a bit and enjoy the scenery, you, Sam, and me,” he croaked out pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh,” she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I guess hanging out with friends once this hunt is successful sounds fun.”

Dean could hear the hesitation in her voice but stifled the groan at the fact that he had to include Sam in their outing. He turned to glance at Sam and waved his arms while his brother mouthed what? at him and shook his head. Dean put his finger to his lips, signaling Sam to stay quiet as he continued his conversation with Y/N. He gave her their current location with the hope that they would see her tomorrow since it was already past 2 am. Knowing that Y/N was coming made Dean a bit more relaxed. 

“Come on,” he sighed before shedding his jacket, button-up shirt, and t-shirt to get ready for bed. “We should get some shut-eye before Y/N gets here tomorrow. Maybe we can talk to some more people and see if we can figure some things out on our own.” 

“Dean,” Sam sighed, “why did you ask her to come? We could have—” 

“You saw how she helped us with the Greek monster case,” Dean reminded him. “She’s a valuable asset and she can help us in a tight pinch! She helped your ass when the nymphs got a hold of you.” 

“True,” Sam smiled, “but then that would mean they liked me more than you. Night, jerk.” 

Dean scoffed. “They didn’t like you more than me, they saw me and knew they couldn’t entrap me,” Dean muttered. “Night, bitch.” 

Later that same day, after Dean and Sam got at least four hours of good rest, the brothers continued with their investigation. So far, Sam had been able to acquire a book on Mogwai, and unfortunately for Sam, it was all in Chinese. 

“Good thing Y/N’s on her way, right?” Dean smiled at Sam, who seemed to have a scowl on his face. “What?” 

“Dean,” Sam turned to face his brother. “What are we going to do once she gets here? I mean, we know the name of the damn thing. I can find a professor and you can call Y/N and tell her not to come.” 

“Not to come? Sam, we need her,” Dean said as he raised an eyebrow. “She could be an extra set of eyes.” 

“Why do you want her here so bad?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. 

“She’s a good hunter, and she helped us out the last time we went up against something we didn’t know about. I mean, do you know what a Mogwai is?” 

“No,” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, “but it’s not that hard to figure out. I mean, I can research!” 

“Awwwww,” Dean mocked, “are you jealous that I’m calling H.E. for help?” 

“H.E.?” Sam asked. 

“Short for ‘“Hunter Encyclopedia,” Dean shrugged. “I mean, you’re still going to do the thing you love, but she’s coming in as a fresh pair of eyes. Besides, we know she travels all over the world, so why not have her help us out?” 

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean. “You’re right, she can help us out.” 

“Knew you’d see it my way,” Dean leaned over and gave his brother a playful punch on the shoulder. “Let’s head back to the motel with the book and grab some food. I’m starving.” 

Sam stayed silent as they made their way back, but as they got closer, he noticed the familiar car. With a smirk, he slapped Dean on his chest and pointed to the compact 2005 Honda Civic. Dean rolled his eyes at the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, not in the slightest, it was just something he never thought a hunter would ever drive, let alone someone like Y/N. He would have pegged her for a convertible girl, a nice Mustang in her favorite color. Dean reached under his seat and pulled out a small package, ignoring  Sam’s call as he made his way towards the grey Civic.

Dean adjusted his jacket and knocked on the window watching as Y/N rolled it down. “Gotta say, H.E., I never pegged you as one to drive a Japanese sardine can,” he chuckled softly. “How about I take you out to a car lot after we gank whatever this is and get you a real car?” 

“Compared to your very sexy car,” Y/N smiled, “I don’t have to stop every few miles to gas up. Are you going to let me get out or keep leaning on my door all day?” 

Dean jumped back slightly and blushed in embarrassment, the package he had for her behind his back. “Sorry,” he waited for her to close the window and climb out of the car. “Gotta say, I didn’t really expect you to get here until tomorrow. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed as she turned around to flip her chair forward to reach for her bag, missing the way Dean tilted his head as he checked out her ass. “I sorta drove as fast as I could to get here, kinda stayed up all night.” 

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean cursed as he reached for her bag. “You can stay with us in our room. You should take a nap.” 

Y/N shook her head stifling a soft yawn. “This is nothing. I’ve done all-nighters before, and you said it was urgent.” 

Dean kicked himself mentally for doing this. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he should have just told her what they had found and sent her pictures of the text. 

“Were you on a hunt?” Dean asked curiously. 

“More like hunting for more artifacts,” Y/N sighed. “Got a tip on some more resources and books on some ancient things. I do have a trip to Turkey planned in the next couple of months. I have a contact who says he got some information on a different kind of Djinn, a real-life Genie. They’re not the ones we encounter here, but they seem more like a dying breed than anything else.” 

“So they actually grant wishes?” Dean asked as he led her to their room. “Because I can say I was captured by𑁋” 

“Djinn, yeah, I heard. How was that? I mean, I know they put you in an induced dream state that reflects your innermost desires,” she started to ramble, “but I know other Djinns induce fear and panic or just give you a recurring nightmare.” 

“You could say that,” Dean sighed as he placed her bag on his bed. “You can use my bed, I’ll take the couch.” 

“What? No, I can take the couch. I don’t want to take your bed away𑁋” 

“You’re not, I promise.” Dean held up his hand and walked over to the small table, placing the package on top of it. “You go ahead and nap, Sam and I will order food and show you what we found.” 

Y/N nodded reluctantly and let Dean help her into his bed. Something about the way the huntress curled up onto the pillow had Dean yearning to caress her cheek, but he thought better of it. They were just starting to become friends, he didn’t want her to think that she was a conquest. Then again, he wouldn’t mind if he was able to steal a few kisses from her, or more. Dean was amazed at how fast she fell asleep. 

Dean and Sam ordered Chinese food from a local place close by, making sure to save some for Y/N for when she woke up. It didn’t take long for the aroma of food to rouse the sleeping huntress. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean joked. “Sleep okay?” 

Y/N simply nodded as she let out a small groan and stretched. Dean couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at how adorable she looked, her hair a mess, and her shirt slightly askew. With one last stretch and a roll of her neck and shoulders, Y/N got up from the bed and made her way towards the table where Dean helped her to her seat. He offered her a container of food, which she happily accepted while grabbing a pair of chopsticks to use. 

Sam and Dean seemed to have a silent conversation as she ate. She could feel the tension building between the brothers. She had read countless times how the brothers seemed to be able to have a telepathic conversation. She could tell it was from years of having to take care of each other. Y/N, on the other hand, never had siblings. She’d always been alone, having to fend for herself. Her father didn’t get into hunting later as John Winchester did, he was bred for it. Her mother was killed by a shifter pretending to be him, which led him on a crusade to end all the shifters he could. 

Her father every now and then remembered he had a daughter who needed him. Not to say he didn’t have his moments, but Y/N learned to be compliant and become a good soldier. The way he spoke of her mother and the heartbreak he endured caused her to turn to books and lore for solace. It also helped keep her father alive when she found information that he could use to his advantage. 

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of food, Y/N put down the container and took a sip of the beer Dean had placed in front of her. “So, what have you got so far in terms of information?” she asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, you guys are having trouble identifying the thing right? Are there any characteristics that you can tell me? Things that this thing might do that seem like a habit?” 

 “Oh, it’s called a Mogwai,” Sam said before his smile fell and he looked over at Dean who was ready to murder him. 

“Really?” Y/N turned to look at Dean and raised her eyebrow at him. “How did you figure it out?” 

“Well, H.E., you see,” Dean let out a small nervous chuckle, “we were coming back from talking to more people and found someone who could translate the word we got,” he let out beautifully, mentally patting himself in the back for being so smooth. “I mean, I was going to call you when we got back but then, well𑁋” he broke off and motioned to the bed and smiled. 

“Right,” Y/N gave him a suspicious glare and nodded while clicking her tongue, “ you know it’s a thing called a Mogwai, so what does it do?” 

“We don’t know,” Sam spoke up. “So far we’ve come across a shit ton of mischievous encounters and accidents that don’t seem normal.”  

“Okay,” Y/N turned to Sam and smiled, “did you guys find anything useful on your second go-around with witnesses?” 

“We found a book,” Sam answered, getting up from his chair and walking over to the bag on his bed and procuring the book. “We can’t really read it because it’s all in Chinese.” 

“You know,” Y/N said as she turned to Dean, “you owe me big time for getting me out here. You know you guys are more than capable of handling this thing on your own.”

“Y/N, come on!” Dean whined. “You know as well as I do that if it wasn’t for your sharp senses Sam would be under the influence of nymphs and Ladon would have made me his dinner if I went to attack him head-on.” 

“Dean𑁋” 

“Y/N, what’s so wrong with you giving us a bit of extra hunter power, huh?” Dean asked, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Y/N tilted her head at Dean before shifting her attention to Sam and giving him a silent look. When Sam shrugged she sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed at her temples. When she opened her eyes she gave a nod and stood from her seat, grabbing the container and chopsticks. Dean watched as she paced at the foot of the two beds, shoveling the food into her mouth. Her face was pensive,  different from when they had to hunt Ladon. 

“Fine,” she let out, “I will help you out.” She pointed to Dean before speaking again. “The only reason why I am helping you is that for some reason, some of these monsters from outside the States seem to be coming here, and since I have been traveling quite a bit recently, I can be useful in getting things straightened out.” 

Dean happily slapped the table and let out a small cheer. “Yes! Thank you! See, you hunting with us, we are going to make an awesome team!”  

“Winchester,” Y/N shook her head and placed her now empty container in the trash before turning to the green-eyed hunter. “You are not to call me for Shifters, Vamps, Rugarus, Werewolves, Djinns, Vetala, Leviathan, or any other supernatural creature that I know you know how to gank.” 

By the end of her list, Y/N had walked over to him, poking his chest with every creature she named. Dean couldn’t help but swallow thickly as he gazed into her eyes. There was something there, he could see it, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When she backed away, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He continued to observe her as she went to her bag and began ruffling through it. Y/N had taken out her scanner, a portable printer, her laptop, and her battered up, almost full journal. 

“Okay, do you have anything that I may need to scan to try to run it through my translator app on my laptop?” She asked looking at Sam. “I can’t guarantee success, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam snapped out of his trance having watched her handle his brother. “A guy gave us this book; he said it would tell us what we needed to know about the Mogwai.” 

“You know,” Dean let out trying to join the conversation, “that damn name sounds familiar to me.” 

“What? Mogwai?” Y/N let out a scoff. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize it. It’s what the fluffy gremlin was named in the movie Gremlins.” 

“Holy shit! That’s it!” Dean clapped his hands. “So is it anything like the movie? I mean, what, uh𑁋no getting it wet or feeding it after midnight right?”

“Not everything is like the movie genius,” Y/N almost sneered before taking a deep breath. “Look, it might be the same thing, there could be some truth to it, but who knows.” 

Dean was taken a bit aback at her tone and licked his lips, bowing his head. “So what do you need?” 

“Why?” Y/N asked him as she looked up from her laptop. “From you? Nothing, Sam and I’ve got it.” 

“Don’t do this again, Y/N,” Dean groaned. “I can help.” 

“Can you read Cantonese?” She asked, leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“No, but Sam can’t either,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, but Sam knows his way around a good computer program,” Y/N shot back trying to get back to setting up her program. 

“Hey,” Dean slammed his hand on the table making her jump, “I’ll have you know I was shown how to hack and how to look through back doors by one of the best hackers I knew. His name was Frank, and he helped us stay low when the Leviathans were after us.” 

“I heard about that,” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to be helpful, “but this isn’t hacking. If you want to help, do you think once the pages are printed and translated you can start reading?” 

“I𑁋yeah, I can do that! I mean, I can read,” Dean let out before groaning in embarrassment. 

Y/N reached over and patted his cheek. “I know you can, big guy, you must be so proud.” 

Dean frowned and shot Sam an angry glare when he let out a laugh before coughing to try and hide it. Dean watched as Y/N put Sam to work scanning the pages of the book and waiting for the translated pages to pop up. 

“Okay, I’m not going to waste what little paper I have. Once I see the word, I’ll start printing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes. 

It took an hour before Dean heard the printer come to life and start printing. Once the page was done, Y/N reached over and held it out to Dean. 

“It won’t bite,” she let out, “just don’t expect me to keep handing you the pages. I need to do my own reading to make sure I’m giving you the right pages.” 

Dean nodded as he took the page and began reading. For the most part, it gave a history of the different Chinese legends. He smiled when he read the next paragraph. 

“Looks like there was some truth to how the movie went,” he said. “Listen to this: ‘The Mogwai is a demon that reproduces during the rainy season but is careful not to reproduce when it rains as to not bring good fortune. It likes to cause mischief and self-destruction upon any unsuspecting humans they find as their prey.’”

“Okay, so the whole thing about getting wet is because they don’t want to bring good luck while they screw?” Y/N said as she nodded. “Okay, anything on where they might hang out?” 

“Sounds like it’s in every monster’s favorite place to hide,” Dean said with a smile, “any place dark and dank.”

“We’re in LA,” Y/N scoffed, “might as well say the whole city is its playground.”

“Well, let’s not waste time,” Dean said grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go and find it in Chinatown,” he suggested. “I mean, it’s where everything has been going wrong.” 

The trio had left the motel room heading right back to Chinatown for their search. It took another few hours before they found the demon: a woman with red eyes and sharp teeth, her ears pointy and her fingers long. Y/N and Dean both used the idea that fire could kill it, much like the gremlins in the movie. Once it was over, Dean pulled Sam aside and cleared his throat. 

“Okay, you are going to go back to the motel room and Y/N and I are going to stay out and hang out,” Dean said to Sam, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.   

“What? Why?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion, “I want to hang out with Y/N too!” 

“You two will have plenty of time to talk later,” Dean insisted, “so just tell her you’re not feeling too hot after I suggest we go out and explore the city.” 

“You want me to lie to her?” Sam said in disbelief. “You know she could have helped us over the phone and you dragged her here for what? Because you want her to not have this ‘man whore’ image of you?”

“Tell ‘er you’ve got a tummy ache,” Dean suggested giving his brother a pleading look.  

“A tummy ache, Dean? I’m not saying that.” Sam gave his brother his best bitchface.  

Dean ran a hand across his face before putting both hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Then tell her you’ve got intestinal distress, something, man! Tell her you can’t go!” He gave Sam a pleading look. “Please? Sam come on, let me just have alone time with her. If I’m going to have a chance to show her that I’m more than just a ruggedly handsome face, I need to spend time with her, please.” 

Sam looked at Dean’s face and sighed. His brother clearly had a thing for the huntress that had been given the title Encyclopedia. It was one of the few times Sam had seen Dean desperate to impress a girl. 

“Fine,” he conceded, “but you fucking owe me, big time.” 

“Absolutely!” Dean agreed, “But for now, you need to vamoose!” 

Sam gave Dean a smile shaking his head before turning to Y/N and saying his goodbyes. Dean wasn’t sure what Sammy had said, but he could see Y/N’s face grow with concern. 

“So, since Sammy is going back to rest,” Dean offered her a smile, “want to find a good place to hang out, eat some good food and drink?” 

“I appreciate it, but I should head back and pack,” she turned to walk away from him. “Thanks for this, it was fun.” 

Dean ran after her. “Whoa, wait there H.E.,” he said, cutting off her path and putting his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with one drink, an arcade game, or a midnight snack?” 

“I𑁋” Y/N looked into his eyes and could see he really wanted her to stay. “I guess it could give me a chance to know the real you. I mean,” she offered him a small smile, “you did recognize the theme song to Thundercats, so I’m sure we can talk about a few things.” 

“See,” Dean pointed out, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to talk and you can know the real me.” 

The two of them walked down around Chinatown before finding a Korean barbecue spot that was open. The conversation flowed and they talked about their favorite books to read, To Y/N’s surprise,  aside from Vonnegut and Tolstoy, Dean actually had an extensive collection of books. 

“So how come no one knows this side of you?” She asked as she grabbed her chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat that was grilling between them. 

Dean gave a shrug before downing the soju Y/N had served him. “I mean, I never really thought about it. I always tried to make sure Sam was the smart one.  School for me was just a placeholder until I could hunt,” he said, grabbing a piece of meat from the grill. “I tried, don’t get me wrong, but then we’d move again and I’d have to start over and it just wasn’t my thing. I like being the cool guy, you know?” 

“I get that,” she nodded, “but who said you can’t be the cool guy and smart?” 

“You got a point there,” Dean said. “At the same time, I don’t really see myself doing anything else but hunting.” 

“Yeah, I hear you there,” she knocked back her own shot of soju and hissed as the liquid was warm going down her throat. “I mean, I dove into my books because it was all I thought I was good for, that and my dad didn’t want me to end up like my mom. I𑁋” she paused and offered him a smile, “you’re lucky to have Sam, and he’s lucky to have you.” 

“No siblings?” Dean asked and frowned when she shook her head. 

“It sucks I know, but Dad really did try his best. I mean, he wasn’t perfect, but he tried.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the hot burning coals through the metal grate. 

Dean rushed over to her side and pulled her in for a hug. “I know better than anyone about dads and their revenge kicks,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” she echoed and pulled away, “thanks.” 

“So,” Dean decided to change the subject, “play any video games?” 

That threw them into a conversation about arcades and about trying to get as many prizes from the crane machine and learning all the different tricks to win. Y/N was letting go a little more around him, the handsome hunter who she never thought she could ever talk to,  yet here she was swapping stories and having a good time. The conversation turned to hunting and Y/N was laughing at a few of Dean’s stories. 

“So your brother is closing up the grave and he𑁋” she stopped to giggle. 

“He split his pants open, yup,” Dean chuckled. “Needless to say, I took a nice picture of it. I had to, it’s blackmail material.” 

“Of course it is,” Y/N laughed. 

Dean turned to look at her and his heart pounded in his chest. The way she put her whole body into it as she laughed really had him feeling something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Y/N that had him wanting to spend more time with her. 

“I dare you to kiss me,” he said with a cocky smirk and a wink. “See if any of the stories gave you the right info about how I kiss.”

Y/N let out a snort, turning her face to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks. She blamed the soju for that. When she turned to face Dean, his face was slightly closer to her. Lifting her hand, she playfully pushed it away with a giggle. “You’re such a dork,” she let out shaking her head. “I’m not going to kiss you. Besides, you don’t want to kiss me.” 

“Who says I don’t?” Dean asked as he smirked at her. 

Y/N rolled her eyes before pointing to Dean and saying, “Fred Jones,” then pointed to herself, “Velma Dinkley.” She poured herself another small shot of soju. “We had this discussion before, remember?” 

“Oh, I remember,” Dean chuckled, “but I think you’re wrong.” Dean poured himself some more soju and smiled. “You really know how to kill a guy who’s trying.”

“Trying to what?” Y/N snorted, grabbing another piece of meat from the hot grill before placing some more on it.

“Trying to have a chance of getting a date?” Dean said casually and quickly moved to pat her back when she started coughing. “You okay?” 

Y/N nodded, swatting him away. She must have heard wrong; there was no way that Dean Winchester wanted to go out on a date with her. Her, the nerd of all nerds. The nerd whose head was filled with nothing but brainy information that would turn any guy away. She looked over at Dean, whose green eyes seemed to be awaiting an answer. It was a joke, right? So Y/N did the only thing she could, laugh. 

Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. She was laughing? What was so funny about what he said? 

“Sorry,” she let out after her laughter subsided, “it just sounded like you were trying to ask me out?” 

“I, um,” Dean gave her an awkward smile, “I was. I mean, is the idea that funny?”

His words sobered her up really quickly. “Oh, oh gosh,” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.” Putting her hands down, she seemed to be focusing on a spot on the table. “That’s a bad idea.” 

“To go out with me? Why?” Dean asked, “I mean, we’re out right now.” 

“Yeah, as hunting partners, celebrating a hunt that was successful,” she pointed out. “Look, I agreed to get to know you so that I could shed the misconceptions I had about you, but right now, you seem to be trying to prove me right.”

“What?” Dean tilted his head in confusion. “Me asking you out on a date is proving the misconceptions right? How?” 

“Look, you’re a flirt by nature and I can’t fault you for that,” she grabbed a glass full of water and took a huge gulp, “but right now, you flirting with me is,” she took a small pause, “let’s just say that we are not each other’s type.” 

Dean let out a small scoff, shoulder slumping forward. “You’re still thinking that I’m just a playboy, huh?” 

Y/N swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, “I don’t owe you an explanation, that’s how it is sometimes Dean,” she grabbed her wallet from her bag and pulled a few bills from it. 

“Put it away, it’s on me,” Dean said as he placed his hand on hers forcing her to put away her wallet. “Look, I will tone the flirting down if I need to but, I do want to be your friend Y/N,” he looked up at her. 

“Dean,” she found herself staring into his eyes. She couldn’t help but get lost in them. She could swear there was a small glint in his eyes, but she was imagining things. “Friends is all I can do. I’ve been burned before.” 

“You tell me who he is and I can guarantee I can kick his ass,” Dean offered with a smile. 

“That’s sweet, Fred,” she smiled back at him. “All I can say is that he used me for nothing more than my brains and said that my looks were nothing compared to the other huntresses he’s been with.” 

“Yeah, he’s a douche,” Dean huffed. “I can promise you, H.E.𑁋” he paused and snapped his fingers shaking his head, “nope, you called me Fred, only fair I call you Velma,” he declared. “Velma, I can promise you that, and I am totally saying this as a friend, you are beautiful, and if you let me I could be your wingman!”  

“My wingman?” she raised her eyebrow at him. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Why not? I can filter out the assholes from the good guys,” Dean said. “I mean, you’ve read Chuck’s account of me. Tell me, has he ever written me as some of the douches you know?” 

Y/N thought for a moment, and he was right: every story she read, every account she had heard all pointed to Dean being a playboy, but never in any of the stories did she ever hear of Dean treating a woman with disrespect. In fact, in some of her travels, she had encountered girls who had Dean for one night and they all said the same thing: he was a gentleman the whole night and a god in the sheets. 

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “I’m not really looking for anything. I mean, you know this life, it’s not very conducive for having a healthy relationship.” 

Dean couldn’t help but nod at that. “Yeah, I know, but doesn’t mean we have to hide and hole ourselves away from having some fun, right?” 

Y/N had to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess we should head back to the motel. I hope Sam is doing okay. Kind of sad he missed out.” 

“Yeah, he’s got a very weak constitution,” Dean sighed. “Poor guy eats healthy just to keep his body from falling apart, unlike me,” he gave her his best Dean Winchester smoulder. “I’m just stronger and fitter. It’s why the ladies love me.” 

“Can’t argue with you there,” Y/N muttered. 

“Why, Velma,” Dean acted in mock surprise, “are you saying you find me attractive?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and bumped her hip with his. “Shut up, Fred.” 

When they got to the motel, Dean let Y/N change in the bathroom while he changed out in the room. Sam was laying in bed and awoke when they arrived. 

“So, what happened?” Sam asked as he sat up. 

“We talked,” Dean shrugged, “got to understand one another. We’re friends. Oh, and I hope you can still feel that tummy ache in the morning because you do have a weak constitution, Mr. Health Nut,” Dean said as he gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before grabbing an extra blanket and a pillow from Sam’s bed and made his way to the couch. 

“What? Dean, you𑁋” Sam stopped mid-sentence when the door to the bathroom opened and Y/N walked out. 

“Hey Sam, are you still feeling sick?” She asked softly, giving him a warm smile. 

“Had some ginger tea, so I’m feeling slightly better,” he forced out with a thin-lipped smile. 

“We should get some sleep, I have a long drive back home and I’m sure you guys have somewhere to be,” she climbed into the bed and laid down to sleep. 

The next morning as they packed their things, Dean couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N. There was just something about her that Dean just couldn’t put his finger on. Sure she was easy on the eyes, but there was something else, something that kept nagging him about the way she talked badly about herself. Shaking off his thoughts, he finished packing the last of his things and zipped up his bag. 

“So I guess you head to Turkey in a few days, huh?” He asked, walking over towards her once she zipped up her bag. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, “but I’m sure I’ll be able to grab some good information and artifacts to bring back,” she smiled brightly, her voice giving off a hint of excitement. 

“If I wasn’t afraid of flying I’d definitely love to join you,” Dean said. “I mean, it’s the Mediterranean, so I’d love to see if you know how to belly dance,” he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on his chest from her. 

“Can you turn off the charm for two seconds?” She let out a soft giggle.   

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “I wouldn’t be me if I did.” 

“Touché,” she muttered. “I’ll see you guys around,” Y/N said as she was about to turn to climb into her car when she stopped and turned back to poke a finger to Dean’s chest. “Remember our deal, only monsters that you have never hunted before mister.” 

“I’ll try,” Dean shrugged. “I make no guarantees. I might just want to hang out with you again.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes leaving Dean to chuckle by himself as he watched her climb into her car. Once she had started to pull away from the parking lot, he turned to the Impala and Sam who was leaning against the car waving at Y/N who waved back. 

“So, are you finally going to call her just to talk or will you only call her when you need her help again?” Sam asked, earning him a punch. 

“Baby steps, Sammy,” he sighed, “baby steps.” 

Watching the Honda Civic turn away from the motel, Dean found himself itching to call her again. He already missed the sound of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she was excited about a hunt. He swore to himself that he would call her the next day, even if it was just to check in. After all, the way to build a friendship was to take baby steps. 

HE: Impala

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@rach5ive​

[mimithings97]

How to Make Him Cum 101 (M)

Summary: You’ll love each other in sickness and health, hungover or hangry, sexless or… well, it’s becoming a little harder for the pants to stay on despite the calls of ‘let’s take this slow’ on the first date.

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

Genre: University AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst (tiny bit), Crack

Warnings: (Plenty my friend) Handjob, Fingering, Squirting, Sex without protection, Tongue fucking, Jungkook being whipped, Chocking (brief), Dry Humping, Jungkook cumming in his pants, lots of swearing, lots of alcohol consumption, consumption of weed

Word Count: 15k (it was meant to be 10k, but I fucked it)

A/N: I love Jungkook in this, he’s a sweetheart who has no fucking idea what he’s doing. Took me way too long to write this and I’m sorry if it drags, but I split it into little scenes to make it more manageable. It’s also pretty casual - no real storyline. Enjoy and suggestions always welcome x

“I swear to fuck, if he throws up my £2000 bourbon...” 

And by some miracle, neither the end of Taehyung’s sentence nor the £150 shot Namjoon halfheartedly threw back makes an appearance.

“Nah big man can handle his shit right Joon,” is the mere drunken support offered by Jimin. It’s also accompanied by an all-too heavy hand to the back that has the elder spluttering on air, the shot well and truly burning a hole in his stomach by now.

You observe from the distance of the kitchen, fortunately barricaded from the testosterone fest by the island and several misplaced sofas. It was Jimin’s idea to upgrade the sofa scheme to one that was more ‘drinking and smoking friendly’ so he liked to call it, taking a sufficient 30 minutes just to manoeuvre several pieces of furniture into a circle that centred around all too expensive liquors and cheap weed - the irony of the contrast had most certainly dawned on you. 

Your unexpected appearance to the gathering was on the account of boyfriends hazy state. He was all ‘come save me’ and ‘i’m dying’ over your texted conversation but upon arrival, the boy was all over that tequila bottle like he was downing chocolate milk. 

Despite your best intentions of remaining inconspicuous and merely Jungkook’s driver for the night went to shit when Jimin, unapologetic and somewhere between happily stoned and confident drunk demanded you join their escapades. 

“Booze or bud but not neither Y/N.” Nothing like a typical Taehyung to welcome you to the action.

“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t have both,” is your reply that’s laced with a brazen tone and paired with a smirk.

You’re met with Taehyung tonguing his cheek.

“That’s my girl,” Jungkook shouts mid-laugh and gives you a smack to the ass for good measure. You find comfort in the gesture, so following his drifting hand to the point that you settle in his lap.  

Jungkook must have drunk his weight in alcohol because it’s all touches from behind you, cold hands finding their way under cloth and onto warm skin, lips clamping down on your neck and teeth unforgiving on your ear lobe. Your boyfriend’s a modest guy even at worst, so his provoking actions are met with raised eyebrows on your behalf.

Slowly but surely, with the burn of smoke in your lungs and the even harsher burn of rich whiskey (because £2000 bourbon is a harsh no), Jungkook’s hands roam freely.

“Jesus mate, if you’d have fucked her the second time you would’ve had that pussy on hold, swear down.” Somewhere between your silent touches and unauthorized smoking of all of Namjoon’s weed, the conversation had delved into the topic of Jimin’s overly privileged sex life.

“That’s exactly what I said but the bitch pussied out,” Hobi pipes up from the corner where he’d faded away from being too legit faded - boy never could handle his smoke.

“Fuck off did I pussy ou-”

“Nahhh she had you whipped babe, that second shag wasn’t even on the cards,” you mouth speaks for you. Or more like your high speaks for you at this point.

You feel Kook smile into your shoulder from where his head was perched.

“This’ll be good,” it’s under Taehyung’s breath but not inaudible.

“Fuck do you mean, ‘she had me whipped’, she was all over me that night at Joon’s...” Jimin swigs mid-sentence, flushed from the buzz of liquor and his overly defensive tone, “had her wrapped around my little finger.”

… the opportunity was too good to miss.

“What little finger?” You refrain from laughing at your own remark for dramatic effect but Jungkook’s squeezing your sides and the lightness of your head betrays you. 

Jimin’s eye contact with your falters as if his ego broken, and the others pass around comments along the lines of ‘fucking brilliant’ and ‘unlucky mate’. 

You take a final drag before passing it behind you to the already seeking hand of your boyfriend who’s still amused by your smart-mouth.

“Jimin, I’m just saying,” you elaborate in hopes of restoring his cracked masculinity somewhat, “from what Stephanie told me, Mina had four guys on hold at that party and wasn’t inclined to let any of them stick in on her cos she’s got a full-on guy waiting for her away from uni.”

He huffs, throwing himself and his bottle backwards onto the sofa, causing it to slosh around and out. You peer over at Taehyung, waiting for the boy to morph into an expression of disgust because god knows, this sofa cover costs more than your rent, but he never does - eyes glazed and a small smile instead.

“Fucking brilliant, I was fifth on a girls ‘need to shag’ list.” You almost feel bad for the sod, but one thing Jimin could never do was keep his mouth shut when it needed to be. “At least I’m doing better than you, Y/N, you can’t even get a fuck off your boyfriend and you’ve been together for months.” 

Taehyung’s smile drifts, Hobi shifts in his seat and Jungkook stiffens from behind you - the air dries up.

“Jimin, mate, come on,” Joon tries to reason, but as per usual Jimin keeps his mouth moving.

“I said what I said.”

Yeh, he sure fucking did. And if one thing was known to be uncharted conversation between the lot of you, then that was your and Jungkook’s abstinence. But in true style, Jimin just had to pry.

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

“Fuck it, maybe we should just have sex,” he finally says as you stall over wiping off your eyeliner to laugh at his exasperation. Jungkook wasn’t insecure but he was easily influenced when something hurt his pride - and you could tell, from Jimin’s comment, throughout the awkward air that lingered in the car, to just now, that he had been stewing on the dent to his ego from the moment it was spoken. 

You want to tell him with all the sarcasm in the world how ‘romantic’ he’s being about it all, but you refrain to save further damage.

“Kook-”

“Nah, seriously Y/N, I’m tired of this shit…” you want to diffuse his state, but he persists, “and- I don’t really know what I’m waiting on now.”

“Baby,” you finally get a grip on his attention as he lets out a huff and welcomes you onto his lap. “You’ve had your reasons to wait on this, I’ve always respected that. But…” he groans and you lean into him as a warning to let you finish, “buttt, I’m not gonna respect any shit when you’re letting Jimin decide for you. Just cos the boy can’t get his dick wet doesn’t mean you have to.”

You feel him snicker against your shoulder as he lowers his head in frustration.

“You do this on your own time. Not mine,” you weave your fingers through his locks and anchor him to you, “not Jimin’s, not anyone but yours,” and finalise your sentiment by situating your lips on his temple.

With eyes fluttering shut into your touch and a heavy breath out he indulges in his insecurity. “I just can’t afford to lose you.” And you know it takes his booze-filled conscience to let you in.

You have to admit that there was some level of hurt you managed to hide at this point. That even after relishing in one another's company for 5 months, Jungkook still couldn’t find it in himself to trust you in that way. It was a mental thing, an emotional instinct of too many failed relationships where he was a victim to being cheated on, left after being used for sex and prayed on for good looks and unfortunate vulnerability. You knew within yourself you would never and could never do what so many have done before you. Fuck, you couldn’t even see yourself being sane and capable without him, ever, period. For that, you respected his decision - whilst frustratingly prolonged - because you knew he was worth the wait.

“I need you just as much as you need me.” You sense the slump in his shoulders, the heaviness of too many pressures and burdens weighing them down. That and his drug-induced state causing unwanted fatigue. “Hmm?” So you lift his chin and search his eyes till they meet yours, passing on a reassurance that he finally accepts with a curt nod.

“Yeh, I know.” 

You press a kiss, or two to his lips and lean back to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Now are you gonna keep sulking to yourself like a bitch or let me make you cum?” His instant response is his eyes blowing out in shock of your statement before laughing into your chest. You know him well enough that he is using your chest to hide the blush in his cheeks but you don’t mention it. 

Instead, you wiggle your hips with no subtlety into the twitch of his groin that seeks your mouth so desperately, laughing when he grabs you at the cheeks and pulls you away to say, “You’re fucking mental.” But against his lips you can’t help the, “-Nd you love me for it,” that is mumbled.

Yeah, this boy was definitely worth the wait.

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

Weekends seem to roll around at a quickening pace when you have a needy boyfriend and even more demanding party schedule to fill the gaps. And by some freak of nature, you hadn’t managed to drop your education off a cliff in the meantime - in fact, you had begun to make a living off having beer in one hand and highlighter in the other.

University wasn’t a walk in the park, but you’d been enough of a devoted intellect in your first two years of it to allow yourself to drop off the map a little. So, after becoming a co-captain of the swim team somewhere into your second year, it was only a natural, human instinct kind of reaction that your fellow captain, the hunk of abs who graced poolside, would slip a few too many flirty remarks at you before you called him your boyfriend. He’d pined and you’d fallen - simple as.

He came with baggage though. Six boys and a whole lot of booze and weed. You were no saint before Jungkook, hell, you almost weren’t allowed swim captain because you’d slept in one too many of the guys beds. But as soon as you’d said ‘yes’ to the going out for drinks invitation he offered, you had also said ‘yes’ to the party on Saturday at Hoseok’s, and the one on Sunday down at the river, and for every weekend for the next 5 months. And slowly but surely, it was no longer, ‘this is my girlfriend’ as an introduction, but you asking the familiar face around the party with all urgency where the nearest bottle of tequila was.

It’s also how you’d landed yourself filthily hungover in your Monday lecture, listening to Professor Snape (nah, it’s his real name and all) with a noticeable shake in your hand and last nights mascara somewhere down your face. 

“If you look that shit, then what the hell does Kook look like.” Mina, the best friend, the only one allowed to hold back your hair whilst you would throw up in a second-floor bathroom, and the roommate who made student life just a bit more bearable than the shit show it was.

She takes the seat next to you, her question probably rhetorical but you make the effort to reply, all the same.

“Still asleep in the bathtub I reckon.” Ah, yes, the boyfriend. At somewhere between 1 in the morning and blackout drunk you, Jungkook and your infamous competitiveness called for beer pong - minus the beer, add the vodka. So it was only gonna be a certain amount of time before both you and him were pushed into a cab on top of one another and drafted back to his flat so he could throw up in his bathtub. 

“Jesus,” Mina mutters with a laugh, probably just relieved someone ordered your taxi to go to his and not your shared apartment - like hell was she listening to Jungkook throw up at 5 in the morning.

“Honestly, why does Yoongi host that shit on Sunday,” you groan into your laptop, turning down the brightness because you can already feel the afternoon hangover headache arising. 

“He doesn’t have a 9am like the rest of us.”

“Fucker.” 

Good host though, Yoongi. A postgrad, with his own two-storey apartment and too much time on his hands. You’d known him before the boyfriend too, working shifts with him in your first year at a music production company, both in the catering section because you had time to fill and tuition to pay and he was hoping to find his break into the industry. He fucked it though and has ended up with some crazy paid apprenticeship at a financial branch in the city centre. 

“Oi, Bob’s this weekend?” Mina poses the question as the lights brighten in the lecture room and everyone starts shutting laptops - yours was shut ten minutes ago when you stopped listening and started wallowing in self-pity.

“Bob’s?” Bermuda Bobs. A club in the centre of town, and somewhat of a regular for Friday nights, when Hoseok had had just about enough of hosting. “Yeh. Yeh, I can do Bobs.”

Mina’s up and off before you can even open the zip on your bag, something about she’ll miss her lift to training, but you mumble that you’ll see her at the apartment later before you can see the back of her head. 

All you can think as you conquer the steps to the exit of the hall is how much of a blessing a shower and a cup of tea would be - ‘so easily pleased’ Mina would say. So, when you look up from your phone to see Jungkook opposite where you walk out, a cup of tea in hand, you might just believe in fate.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, throat hoarse as he takes you bag from your shoulder and places the coffee into your welcoming hands. You laugh at him, a snort because it’s ironic considering the bloodshot eyes and beer-stained hair he sports.

“You were passed out in the bath legit an hour ago,” his hand finds yours despite your teasing and when you finally take the first sip of tea as you walk, anyone would think the noise you made was nothing short of an orgasm - Jungkook certainly takes notice. “Did you bring the car?” 

He snorts, “Like fuck did I bring the car, I’m still drunk.”

“Babbbyy,” it’s a whine as you throw your head back and pull his hand to make your point into a tantrum. 

“It’s literally a 5 minute walk babe, suck it up.” He continues ahead, but you go full 5 year old tactics on him, stopping in your tracks and whacking on your face the biggest pout your lips will allow.

He merely rolls his eyes and kisses it away before presenting his back to you, arms out, legs bent and you hop onto him like the spoilt girlfriend you are.

“You’re a brat, you know that.” Is all he says as he starts the walk out of the building and towards his, so you kiss behind his ear. 

“Mmm, call me that again, it kinda turns me on.”

“Fucking filty,” but you see the crinkle in his eyes that lets you know that he loves you for it.

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

Friday nights roll around quicker than you know when Bob’s is calling. They start earlier than most nights as well - lecture leads to swim training, swim training calls for afternoon drinks at Warehouse and then Warehouse blurs into Pre’s that blurs into Bob’s. 

So with beer curdling in your stomach, trying to flick the wing of your eyeliner and failing for the fifteenth time is as funny as Jimin’s pinkie to you and Mina. 

She is, of course, ready. Has been for almost 2 hours, so whilst you struggle to slip into your dress, she finishes your eyeliner for you.

The buzz of your phone has both of you looking to the vibrating device in confusion, having to double-take with each other because the taxi isn’t supposed to be here until Jungkook is and he isn’t supposed to be here for another half an hour. 

Your fumbling with a zip so it’s Mina who reaches for it, and when the screen lights her face, her features go from confused to ‘for fucks sake’ in less than a second. She turns it and that god awful photo of Jungkook and his swimming goggles on lights up the display. 

“I’ll get the door.” She’s exasperated. He’s early and she can’t stand that - all it took was him showing up at the wrong time on a Wednesday whilst she was naked on the sofa with a girl between her legs that caused the ‘come when you’re fucking asked to come’ attitude - poor boy didn’t even know she was gay.

You do a once over in the mirror before the door swings open, Mina has a scowl but your boyfriend has a lime in one hand and tequila in the other, so you don’t care.

“Shit, you look hot,” Fuck, so does he, but he’s pressing a kiss to your lips before you can drink him in fully, “s’that dress new?”

“I did the makeup, thank me.” Mina was always loud, and speaking at the wrong places and in the wrong conversations. 

“Kindly fuck off, you did the eyeliner and shit all else.” You turn back to Kook, now leaning against your wall, eyes still trained on you, or at least, your legs, and he looks fucking thirsty that’s for sure. “And yeh, got it when I went in the city the other week.” He replies with a nod and a smirk. Those damn bedroom eyes, they hold your gaze, as you fiddle with the clasp on the side of your dress. 

Mine pipes up from the sidelines, “God, it’s like I’m watching a fucking mating ritual or something.” Jungkook scoffs and his shoulders ease as though he’s calming himself down, “Well, I’m ready so shots it is.” She grabs the bottle of tequila from Jungkook’s hand and is off into the kitchen without looking back.

“Who put a foot up her ass then?” He only says it once the door is closed, knowing he’ll get a whacking if Mina heard him, so you scowl at him, albeit through a smile.

“Oi, watch it,” you’re in front of him now, leaning into the arm he stretched out to embrace you in.

“Sorry,” and he means it. He genuinely likes Mina, you’re sure of it, but they go at each other like cats in an alley when you’re not there to referee it.

He’s warm around you, his shirt with buttons undone at the top so that the cologne he’s wearing goes right to your head - and to your core - either one. The proximity does the same to him as he takes a handful of your ass, groping so that when you gasp and try to pull away, he administers a slap. 

You can’t deny you’re horny for him, and the way his trousers frame his bulge perfectly - you lick your lips subconsciously at the thought - but you can almost hear the sadness of Mina pouring and downing Tequila shots by herself.

“Fucker,” you whisper and lean out of his hold almost, only to see that fire in his eyes. 

“I love this ass,” hands now sneaking underneath the fabric of your dress - like it was covering much anyway, but that doesn’t change the way his cold fingers spread across your behind and almost make you moan out. It’s when he takes your bottom lip in his teeth and pulls back agonizing slowly until it pops back into place that the moan you were stifling releases, slowly, seductively, and his crotch stirs at the thought of you making the same noise around his dick. 

But if Kook can restrain himself enough into denying you a fuck for 5 months, then you can be just as disciplined now - whether the wetness on your thighs tells you something different or not.

You toy with him though.

At a pace nothing short of tormenting, you lean your leg into the space between his, drag your lips across his cheek to his ear and let your fingers draw a line from the gap in his shirt, underneath and across his chest, “But you know what’s better than this ass, baby?” You play the seductress with you voice, and you know it does bits to him. 

Your question was rhetoric, but when he doesn’t reply, you can’t help but grab at his belt with a hand and tug his crotch into your leg. He sputters out breathily into your neck, “W-what?”

You lean back, wait for his eyes to open and gage the lust and excitement brewing within them before opening your mouth against his…

“...Tequila shots.” You smack his thigh, turn and are out the door before his erection can say ‘shit’.

Two can play at his game of denial. 

Your all kinds of worked up despite your best efforts, but Mina’s got lime in her mouth and her face crinkled into an expression of disgust as you eye the empty shot glass on the counter, so it’s not like she’s gonna be sniffing out your hormones any time soon. 

“Fucking shit, rancid, I hate it, don’t wanna drink ever, absolutely not,” you laugh at her outburst as you refill her shot glass for yourself. 

“Lightweight,” you tease her as you throw it all back, wincing internally as you feel the hole burn in your throat, but suck it up for the sake of your competitive streak. She merely scoffs at you as the bedroom door swings open, Jungkook - still a fine piece of ass right now - tucking his shirt into his trousers. No way did he just finish himself off in that time, but your eyes travel down to his hard on that is very much still there. You can’t help the smirk.

“Kook, get your shot down you then we’re off,” Mina announces.

“Taxi here already?” he questions but she shakes her head as she now sports a wine bottle in her hand, and clearly a mouth full of wine as she fails to verbalise. 

Shots are down, wine is drunk, and heads are well and truly dizzy when you reach the club. The cab was early much to Mina’s dismay, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the tequila bottle from Jungkook and downing a healthy portion of the liquid before collapsing in instant regret - ‘we’ve all been there Min’ was your only advice. As for Jungkook. Well, the boy never showed when he was drunk until he would take his shirt off and shout he was wasted, so the only way you could gauge his state was by the way his fingers dug into your thigh the entire journey - you just couldn’t work out whether it was the alcohol or his dick talking.

“Y/NNN!” you hear before see Jimin, despite the music that reverberates through the floor and up your body. As always, he has bottle in hand and a girl in the other, but he releases her to embrace you.

It’s a love, hate with Jimin, but he was Jungkook’s best friend, so there was and could not be bad blood between the two of you - much the same to Jungkook and Mina. Jimin swam as well, so you were no strangers to sharing situations that required great comfort with one alone - such as you in a swimming costume and him in his damn speedos. There was only one thing better than Jimin in speedos though, and that was Jungkook in speedos.

“Where’s your boyfriend, he owes me a fucking drink,” and you point to the bar, where he leans over the counter in all his glory and much to the fortune of your eyes. Jimin escorts himself and the girl he’s with over to the bar before you can catch her name - she’s pretty, though, which is no surprise with Jimin’s taste. 

It takes the next 30 minutes, or possibly longer because alcohol tends to blur hours to minutes before you’ve made conversation with everyone there. It’s almost admin now, having to do the rounds when all the people from swimming go out - a swim captain apparently has certain obligations of seeing everyone had a drink in hand and a ride to go home in. Kook was doing the same too, across the club, slowly but surely making his way towards you as he talked to some of the guys. He’d winked one too many times at you for it to be coincidence, and the alcohol you’d been consuming was screaming out to you now to fuck the pointless conversation and grind on your damn fit boyfriend.

“Fuck Josh, Mel, the boy can’t even get it up, and you’re too much of a hot piece of ass to waste on him,” Mina’s on one of her motivational talks with the social sec, Mel - absolute sweetheart, heart of gold and awful taste in men. Also the subject of Mina’s subconscious flirting for the last hour or so, but you don’t have the heart to tell Mina to stop - she’s drunk and probably horny knowing her.

“Y/N,” you’re face first in your vodka red bull (double), to hear Mina, having zoned out from her pining after she started getting emotional. “Y/N!” You finally ease up on the drink when you hear her this time. 

“Hmm?” mouth half full.

“Have you ever seen someone get eye fucked?” Her eyes flicker from you to something else, but you’re too caught up in the absurdity of her question to notice.

“The fuck?”

“Because I’m watching it happen right now,” and it’s a nod that finally directs your questioning gaze away from your best friend and to a figure at the bar, elbows tucked behind him, a bottle of beer at his side, legs to die for and eyes boring right into yours. He’s playing dirty tonight, is all you think. So despite the way your core tightens and the hair on your neck unknowingly rises, you feed into his game, the cat and mouse kind of thing he seems to be grabbing at, and put up your facade.

You're slow to get to him, but it’s deliberate. And instead of giving in to his gaze or his touch, you place your feet right beside his, leaning towards the bar and into the sight of the bartender. 

It’s the raise of her eyebrows at you and the curt smile that prompts you to talk, “two shots of tequila please,” she begins to spin but you stop her, “oh, and plenty of salt and lime.” 

It takes physical energy not to give in to human instinct - to touch and to grab him, to let go of the role play. 

“Anyone would think you’re ordering for two,” his voice is gravely, and fuck if it doesn’t shoot straight down you. But his comment makes you smile, smirk actually.

“You say that as if I can’t handle my alcohol,” you raise an eyebrow to yourself, still feigning your confidence by not looking his way.

Two shots are lined up in front of you, limes perched on top, and a generously filled salt shaker to the left of them. 

“Well tequila is a dangerous game to play,” you pick up either shot in your hand, and fight the urge to shiver as his words that are breathed against your ear. You round from the side of him, eyes finally lifting to his and filling some void that was there, but by no means lifting any tension between the two of you.

“Then let’s play dangerously,” you say, eyes sultry and him waiting on your every move, “the first one to have their salt, their shot and their lime gone first is the winner..” 

“And what does the winning get?” Damn, he’s eager.

You lean in, but still don’t touch. “That’s for the winner to know, and the loser to find out.” 

You can see a vague pick up in his breathing, a sheen of sweat forming against his brow and a vague smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth. Lifting the lime off your shot, he almost proceeds to do the same, about to take the shot to his lips but you stop him, instead pushing your shot into his vacant hand. The only explanation offered is when you take your lime down the column of your throat and down to your cleavage, before reaching to the salt that’s behind him. You pour a small mound of it onto your finger and follow the path that the lime drew. He eyes you like artwork, and doesn’t lift his gaze from your cleavage where you nestle the lime. 

You pour more salt onto your forefinger, and his eyes finally lift in an expression of confusion, but words evade him - hell, he hasn’t taken a solid breath for the past minute. Slowly, tourturningly, you lean into him, carefully avoiding his shot, and catch his breath hitching as you press the point of your tongue into the base of his neck, dragging it upwards until you meet his jaw. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from proceeding further, drinking in the salty taste of him and eating away at his sanity with your tongue - but you refrain, all in the name of dramatic effect.

“Fuck,” is all he says as he keeps his breath hitched, and you push your finger down the line your tongue drew, spreading salt southwards.

He almost looks tapped out when you take his lime from between you, eyes completely glazed, and fortunately for you they blow out even further when you tug the belt of his trousers and place your lime in the waistband - like his erection wouldn’t have held it up anyways.

Retrieving one of the shots from his grasp, where his knuckles had turned white against the glass, you hold his gaze.

“I think you should go ahead,” you’re more breathy than you realised, even despite it being your game.

“I-I thought,” he has to clear his throat, “it’s who can do it the fastest,” it’s barely even a question with how quiet he mumbled the words - you’re not even sure he knew what he was saying.

“Who said I wanted to win, baby?” And he lets out a moan, a full blown moan before he encases your throat with his mouth, and he’s almost animalistic in the way he growls against your skin at the taste. He bites down when he reaches just above the lime and your eyes roll back unconsciously before opening to see him throw his head back with the shot, not a single wince in his eyes because they are so driven by desire. The shot glass is slammed behind him before he dives into your cleavage to retrieve the lime, and in some display of masculinity that almost has you keening he rips the lime from his mouth and tosses it behind you, juice rolling down his face and onto his jaw to linger with the line of salt that glistens there.

You don’t even realise you're on his throat until the overly salty taste pricks your mouth and you can feel his jaw tense beneath you. You're almost in a haze when the tequila sets your throat ablaze but you become fully conscious of the way he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushes you to the floor until your dress bunches and has you sucking at the lime that rests mockingly above his hard cock. 

By some miracle you find yourself back up at eye level, chests heaving to the point of almost touching, and if you didn’t have a lime in your mouth right now you’d either be swearing obscenely in some gesture of saying ‘your so fucking hot’ or your lips would be around his dick.

With a gulp and a tilt of his head backwards, he gains a level of composure that allows him to ease the lime from your lips with his fingers, letting them brush at your skin to have you shivering.

It’s almost comical the way you both pant, eyes ablaze in each others, and completely oblivious to the outside world and how many, way too many people have seen your display. But there is nothing but the burn in your bodies right now as he grabs your hand wordlessly and drags you as fast as your heels will allow. 

It’s like a switch had flipped in him somewhere back there. Even if this whole thing was roleplay, at least you knew how to play it with your boyfriend back there, knew the way he ticks and what would make his cock twitch - Jungkook’s normally easy to read like that. But when he almost breaks the disabled toilet door down with his hand, there is no game left to play - the restraints are off and the fire of lustful rage is fueled.

“You-” he slams you back against the door before its even swung shut and you can get a single word in. It’s carnal the way he’s latching onto your mouth, grabbing your hands that try to clasp at his neck and throw them up next to your head, and shoves a knee between your sopping thighs.

“I almost fucking came in my trousers back there when you got on your knees,” you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low and rough before but it courses through you more than the heavy bass of the club music. “You had me stood there ready to fuck your mouth open, but you thought you’d fucking tease your way through it.”  

He’s domineering and your completely and utterly keening for it. Even more so when the grip he has on your wrist tightens and brings it down to his crotch, forcing your latch onto the erection that strains sinfully, painfully in his trousers and you feel intimidated enough at his display that you don’t palm him, don’t give him a pleasureful squeeze like you normally would when you had more control of your emotions. But you're shocked and fucked out - beyond that even.

“You feel that shit. Fuck, I’ve never been this hard before,” you moan out lowly, finding it increasingly difficult to control your breathing, the nature of the lust in your body calling out for some friction on your body. But he stands there, eyes ablaze, panting his taunting remarks into your agape mouth. “You’re making it so damn hard not to fuck you.”

“Do it,” you whisper without even knowing and neither does Jungkook because the ringing in both of your ears is deafening.

“I’ve always wanted to see you fall apart around my cock… lose it as I fuck you,” his crotch starts riveting into your hand and you know he’s imaging what it would feel like with his dick nestled deep in your walls right now, “God I want to pound into you.”

“Fuck.”

Fuck, because never have his words been so dirty before.

“You’re so damn hot I actually can’t control myself right now,” and his dick follows his words. Your hand now acts as your pussy - in his head anyway - as the friction of his trousers begins sending him neck deep in pleasure. 

You actually think you could come from watching it. How his head now bows into your neck and his teeth set into your skin because he can’t even control how slack his jaw has become. The way he’s getting harder and harder against your hand and his movements are constantly seeking more. Fucking hell, you’re both fully clothed, his dicks rock hard in his pants but he’s so pent up on you and the desire you’ve caused that he’s chasing an orgasm basically untouched. 

“I- oh fuck.”

“Come on baby,” you feed him, words moaned against his ear and hand flattening more purposefully against him, “fuck me harder.”

“Argh- fuc-fucking hell,” he’s spurred on by the illusion you offer. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagines the feeling of being balls deep in you. 

“Think how good I’d feel. Fuck, you’d be so deep uhh,” you moan out at the end as the harshness of the way his hips snap into yours causes your hand nestled between you to deliciously rub on your clit. 

You hadn’t realised that your dress had ridden up in the commotion of you sex driven states, that your ass was pressed up against the cool surface and gave you goosebumps despite the way you body oozes heat, that you panties were so wrecked by your arousal that your hand might as well be rubbing you raw. And with Jungkook’s quickening pace, the friction against your clit makes you all too driven to seek your end as well as his. It’s filthy.

“Ko-uh. Fuck, Kook, I need you fingers- ah,” your walls are throbbing at the thought, but his teeth remain deep set in the junction between your neck and shoulder, his hips still thrusting up and into your hand, so you think you’re desire has gone unheard.

But all too quickly, he forgets the end he was chasing. 

Suddenly, he backs away from you, leaving you untouched and leaning forward into the air, whilst his cock screams in the confines of his trousers. He growls at the way he had to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“Baby,” it’s a whine from the back of your throat that you had no plan to release. But the way your chest heaves and your thighs cross one another for friction just spells to you and him just how inflamed your body is. 

His eyes move away from your desperate ones, and his neck reclines back as he swallows - trying with all his strength to keep it together, to not cum from merely watching your cleavage, drenched in his and your sweat, rise and fall with the way your breathing staggers. Watching him is torture for yourself, but you don’t want to miss the way his cock throbs. 

You have no idea how long you’re there, him grappling at his sanity and you watching him.

“Baby, I-”

“Fuck, don’t talk,” his face almost contorts in pain and his head lowers into his chest to halt his urge to look at you. 

But, you’re horny and you're a brat, so you persist.

“Jungkook, I need you right now.”

Silence falls for a mere second.

Like a man possessed he lunges back towards your body, and before you can react he’s on his knees violently pushing the thin fabric of your dress up and ripping your panties down your legs.

“What don’t you understand about shut the fuck up.” And with that he’s on your clit, hands shoving your legs in opposite directions and over his shoulders so you lose your balance and end up speared on his tongue.

“Kook!” It’s a cry that’s shouted into the air when your head is thrown back - a reaction to both the immense feeling that tightens at your core and a warning to the man below you that you might just crush him.

But he’s devouring your pussy whole. He’s no longer tending to your clit, but lapping his tongue up and down the entire expanse of your slit, letting the muscle of his tongue slip into your entrance making your stomach drop every time. He’s hellbent on making you cum that’s for sure, because no matter the tug of your hands at his scalp to let up even just a little, he’s growling into you and plunging deeper. 

You want to pull away, to finally take a break from the intense pressure on your core or maybe to breathe for the first time since he decided to drop to his knees. But you’re feet don’t touch the ground, literally, and he’s suspending you on his tongue. 

His hands push you down further onto him and he growls into you, vibrations coursing through you that almost makes you cum then and there. But he breaks away.

“Fuck,” he sounds fucked out himself, taking in all the air he can, because god knows he was eating your pussy like it was oxygen. “Baby, you gotta cum on my tongue, please.” 

He was the one eating you out, yet you had him pleading. Boy always did submit in the end, whether he liked it or not.

“Fingers then. Use your fingers,” and he obeys, releasing your thigh in favour of thrusting two of his digits deep into you. All your weight goes onto his shoulders and the two fingers set so far into your womb that you were crying out in pleasure. It wasn’t until his mouth resumed sucking on your clit that you lost all control of your tongue and rambled into the air like a mad woman. 

“F-Fuckkk Kook. I want ah- fuck I want your cum inside me. I want your dick so bad,” he’s moaning with you and with your words, being spurred on by the image you paint. He curls his fingers deep inside you, and you lose yourself on the feeling - being so stimulated that you miss the fact you’re grinding on his face, thrusting up as if his fingers were really his cock. He’s moaning at it, at the way your pace picks up on his tongue and you’re seeking your end.

“Don’t stop, oh fuck, oh fuck, please- don’t stop.”

You’re driving yourself deeper and deeper into him and fuckkk if the pleasure hasn’t taken over your senses beyond belief. Your stomach pulls so tight with the need to release that you’re grappling at the strands of hair on the back of your boyfriend’s head and using them to anchor yourself. He’s purely a mouth and two fingers to fuck yourself on at this moment and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried.

“Shit, fuckk,” his fingers start going at a rate, not even your hips can keep up with, and he’s so deep you almost choke like the pressure inside you has reached up into your throat.

“Come on baby, fuck,” his gravelly voice seeks out for you to come all over him.

“Holy fuckin-” the feeling comes on so intense inside of you that you struggle to warn him, your breathing constricted almost into nothingness. You feel like you’re about to cum with such strength that you might die.

“I can’t Kook- oh fuckk.”

“Give it to me.”

His teeth clamp down on your clit at the same time as his fingers curl against that spot inside you that suddenly has everything spiralling at once. 

“Don’t stoppp, don’t stop, oh fuck,” you sputter into the air as a band snaps in your lower stomach, blood pumping everywhere and anywhere in your body so that your hips begin spasming and convulsing on top of his mouth. 

He whines into you as his mouth keep fastening all too strongly against your bud. It’s when the pressure that keeps falling in your stomach and Kook is forced to pull his fingers out of you that you feel your juices spill and keep spilling all over you and him.

“Holy fuck baby… Y/N shit.”

You tumble further and further and miss the noises that are pushed from your throat. In the intensity of the pleasure you also miss the way Jungkook’s body, his tongue on your clit, his fingers on your thigh and the ones lodged deep inside you, all tense up. 

Shit.

You wonder if you’ve blacked out when the slump of your body takes over, the eventual air you take in in one large breath making your senses begin to come back all too strong. You’re broken from the waist down, legs numb to the point you can barely feel Jungkook’s teeth tight on your thigh and breath glazing the skin strongly. Shit, you can’t even feel how wet you are yet.

You know the weight he’s bearing on his shoulders, but you can’t muster the strength to move, merely loosening your hands from how tight they were wound in his locks and instead soothing down to his neck with your trembling fingers. 

Finally, the spin in your head stops and your eyes are open enough so that you can look down at the sight below you.

He’s breathless and wet. Wet from sweat and the way you’d just squirted all over his tongue, fingers and trousers - well that’s what you figure anyways. His eyes are sewn shut though in the aftermath of it all, and your thoughts begin to piece together.

“Baby, you good?” you’re scared he has too much literal weight on his shoulders. You’re also scared he’s still painfully hard. “Kook?” and finally a coherent mumble of ‘yeh’ against your thigh tells you, no, you didn’t just kill your boyfriend by cumming on his face.

It’s a slow process the way he lets your legs down, and you wince as he does so because you swear his fingers just split you open. You also forgot about the heels practically taped to your feet, stumbling a little one foot at a time as he lowers you off his shoulders.

His eyelids still hang low, and he makes no move to join you at eye level, instead, pressing his face into your thigh and running his ragged breath there for too long. 

“Fuck, seriously, you good baby?” your pussy still throbs, but your boyfriend is too still for you to take notice.

And suddenly he’s laughing. Wholeheartedly laughing into your skin, back, that’s slicked with sweat, raising up and down as he does so.

“Shit,” is all he says when his eyes, crinkled in laughter and exhaustion finally meet yours, peering up from his squat. It’s infectious and has you laughing too, albeit half heartedly because your throat hurts and you’re not sure if your lungs can take much more unnatural breathing.

“You literally just made me cum in my pants.”

Fuck. You’re eyes bulge and pass between the look of disbelief of his face, to the, now, very noticeable stain on his crotch, and back again. Boy literally just came untouched because you can still feel the imprint of one hand on your thigh and you’re pretty sure the other hand was occupied if you remember correctly.

“What the fuck!” Is all you can say.

“Yeh, I know ‘what the fuck!’ Sorry but since when could you squirt.” His legs are still shaking beneath him. “It made me just fucking shoot my load on sight.”

You’re laughing, bending at the waist to help the poor boy up to his feet, and he accepts the help as he finally towers over you and meets your eyes - both looking at each other with warmth and a vague emotion of disbelief, because as if he just came in his pants!

“Seriously, don’t know what the hell you just did to me, but I don’t think I’ll ever be that turned on ever in my life again,” he’s sputtering out now like a boy charged on drained hormones and ageing drunkness. 

You laugh at his state and the way his eyes still bulge, grabbing the skin of his neck that’s thick with sweat and push a kiss to his lips. It doesn’t linger because you’re too spent and oxygen is like gold dust to you right now.

“So you enjoyed yourself I’m guessing?”

“Fucking hell did I!” You both can’t stop the way your laughter spills at the situation. 

You see his shoulders eventually relax, his breathing less frequent and the look in his eyes turns soft. 

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you.” Despite your heart still beating like it’s on steroids, you feel it skip a beat, equal to the way you can’t help the tug on the corners of your mouth. 

“Cringy bastard,” you whisper next to his lips, a whole new warmth spreading through you at the way his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Only for you.”

“You make me sick.” But in your head, you’re saying the opposite, because you can’t fight the blush despite how generic his cringe worthy compliments hit.

With clothes vaguely realigned, you’re ready to join society once again, albeit hobbling, but your boyfriend refuses to break the bubble you’re in for just a second longer.

“Say it back.” And when you turn from the door to him, he’s actually pouting, eyes a little less bright as though you’re unspoken words have hit harder than you realised. “Please.”

Your relationship with Kook was built off backhanded compliments and competitive sarcasm, both equally easy-going people with a knack for not taking anything seriously. It was how you two worked. But there’s some things you can’t feign, and the way he said “I love you” with deliberate sadness was one of those things, because hell, you sure loved him too.

His cheeks nestled in both of your palms now as your soft eyes met his ones, vulnerable with the way he’d bared himself and pleaded after you, you spoke softly.

“I love you.”

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

“Fuck you, Kook. Stop acting like you own me.”

“Then don’t try to sleep with the whole swim team.”

Dick.

This shit is rare. Fighting Jungkook is rare. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Because whilst you’re both too easy going for your own good and take most things on the chin, jealousy hurts like a bitch. 

“Jesus you’re fucking testing my patience.” You settle yourself deep in his kitchen, long strides over there because his presence alone is making you want to rip hairs out of your skull. But he’s there soon after, leaning to try to get into your line of sight as you busy yourself with a glass and fuck, where’s that bottle of wine.

“Nah, don’t act like I’m pushing you. I asked you why Jimin’s asking to meet you, and you can’t come up with a damn straight answer or show me your phone.” You find the wine in the fridge, pretending Jungkook is background noise like the petty bitch you are, but his words are ringing in your head louder than you care for. “Don’t treat me like I’m delusional.” 

You slam the bottle down a little too hard on the counter and his eyes jump to the sound. But your expression is dead set, angry, persistent, but he’d say stubborn.

“You’re actually dumb. The whole fucking issue is that I shouldn’t have to tell you why someone texts me or not.” His mouth opens to argue but you’re off on one, “Whether it’s Jimin, whether it’s my mum, whether it was your fucking maintenance guy, it’s my phone, don’t check it, and don’t pretend you’re entitled to.” 

His eyes narrow and you almost think there’s something in him contemplating your words, maybe, just maybe trying to hear you out and understand where you’re coming from. But if you were stubborn, then Jungkook was competitive - he wouldn't stop until you thought he was right.

“Why the fuck did he text you.”

You want to scream. You want to smash his glass against the floor and scream fucking murder. But instead you find your body tensing and you face heating up with the need to cry. He’s getting in your head and you hate it, because he’s never like this. He’s easy. He’s such good company and probably your best friend but why is he making it so hard to like, let alone love him right now.

“Fuck it. Here,” you fish in your pocket, eyes still on his despite the feeling of them heating up and the wetness pooling. You unlock your phone and push it to his chest. “God knows, we were just trying to arrange something for your birthday without you finding out, but you and your fucking jealousy can’t take that, can they Kook?”

You have so much more to say. Your head is spinning with the need to empty your gut of all the words you want to throw at him. About how jealousy is certainly not a virtue in this case, about how you can’t bear that he doesn’t trust you despite all you’ve given up for him, about how damn unfair he is being right now. But you hit his shoulder with yours and are half walking half running to his bathroom before you can contemplate what you’re doing.

“Y/N, fuck,” and of course now he’s apologetic. Calling after you in a tone that screams innocence but to you, he is anything but that right now.

You close the door with haste and push your back against it even faster. 

The worst part is you’re not even that angry anymore. The tears fall in sadness. 

“Baby,” his knock rattles the door but only gently in an attempt to be sensitive with you. He’s fucked up and he knows that, but there’s a combination of not wanting him to see you cry and the need to be away from him for a minute that has you still sitting by the door, not making any attempt to open it.

“Baby, I didn’t know- I wouldn’t have.”

“Jungkook can you give it a rest for one minute,” you sound pained. You feel it as well. Maybe you’re overreacting, you think, as you hear him sigh and mumble an ‘okay’ before his footsteps peter out into another room. 

You cry more and continue to do so as you begin to run the bath, and then more tears flow when you watch yourself in the mirror as you tug at your stained cheeks with a cloth. Your tears are still wet on your cheeks when you lower yourself into the warm water and become absorbed in the feeling of it, melting away until you fall into the slumber of sleep. It’s the same slumber that doesn’t cause you to be startled when the door creaks open, your boyfriend pausing to take in your state before he strips himself down to join you.

You know he’s there when he gently sinks into the water behind you, but you make no attempt to move out of the way his knees encase you. His touch is apprehensive and careful, and you can practically hear the thoughts in his head move at a thousand miles an hour.

You know Jungkook. You know all too well that right now, he’s cut up inside, thinking of every way possible to take back time and to undo the stupid shit he was spouting earlier. He’s thinking about how fucked up he was to let jealousy do that to him, to get the better of his, and he’s thinking of every which way to make it right to you. You know, because you’re the same. We’re all in the wrong at some point, and everyone is more than the worst thing they’ve ever done.

So you grab at his hands that still hover in the air with unspoken uncertainty and you pull them to yourself, tight, and on your neck there is a desperate sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry,” his tone is so apologetic you almost start crying all over again, but exhaustion and the need to forgive are all too strong. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I-”

You know there are more words he wants to say, maybe to show you how bad he feels, maybe he’ll try and justify himself, but either way, you’re pushover ass forgave him before the argument even happened. You also simply like the boy too goddamn much to see him splutter in your neck because he’s scared he’ll lose you.

With your lips pressed to the back of his hands that you’ve encased in yours, you mutter, “Shhh, I know you are.” 

The water sloshes in the distance somewhere as he pulls you tighter to him like you’re an anchor and if he lets you go he’ll be lost. Kisses are placed down your neck gently and you let your eyes flutter shut again because you can’t lie in that he is the most comforting place to you right now.

Silence falls but not uncomfortably, fingers brushing skin like its china and breathing soft as you both give into each others touch.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Maybe you are too forgiving Your mother always told you you were - ‘people won’t be so kind to your patience one day Y/N.’ - that’s what she’d told you. And she’s probably right that one day you’ll come to find that you’ve been used and abused for all the ‘it's okay’s’ and ‘I forgive you’s’ you’d uttered. But you didn’t use forgiveness as an easy way out, you used it when it was deserved. And Jungkook’s jealousy, whilst fucking annoying, was a human instinct - possibly more of a male instinct than female, you think - but it’s a natural reaction all the same. Compromise instead of conclusion.

“You have to start trusting me, you know.”

“I know,” a hasty response, maybe because he actually has realised he needs to trust you or maybe he just doesn’t want to prolong discussion. You hope and believe the first,

“You can’t keep this jealousy thing up. Particularly not with Jimin, I don’t want to be the reason your shit is ruined, it’s too good.”

The two of them best friends from the womb. But boys apparently will be boys and think any dick that goes near their girlfriend is aiming for one place and one place only, whether 21 years into friendship or not.

“I know.” The repeat of words makes you think he’s not listening to you, but then he sighs. “It’s just- I can’t- Fuck! He drives me up the wall, says all kinds of shit behind your back and mine about how fit you are because he knows it grills me.” This is new. “And then he sends you texts when I didn’t even know you had each others number and you won’t tell me what they are. It just fucked with my head and when you end up picturing the worst it’s hard to get that picture out of your head.”

It made sense, and he was getting angry with himself by the way his tone spiked, so you diffuse the tension.

“Hmm but if you weren’t so jealous your birthday wouldn’t have been ruined,” you feel his head slump and then he laughs, and you laugh, and then he’s squeezing you and forcing your eyes to his.

“You make me mental that’s why,” you’re close but he makes no move to kiss you, “and I’m sorry that I got like that when I had no reason to do so. I’ll change that I promise,”  he sounded sincere, looked sincere, and you’re a sucker for the way he’s naked and so close his breath hits your smile that you’re kissing him before you can feign trust. 

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

“You know you almost got me in big shit the other day,” the bell rings above your head as you and Jimin leave the cold in favour of the warmth of the bar. Thursday nights didn’t call for many people, so you found a seat easily at a booth, casual wear on and smile dancing across that idiots face.

“Kook told me.” Of course he did, “As if he got his dick caught between his legs because I sent you a text. Like does he really think I’d shag you.”

You scoff, “Cheers for that.”

“You know what I mean. If I got the chance I’d fucking take it, but Kook’s my brother,” and to be fair you did know what he meant. In fact it was a miracle Jungkook had been all calm and breezy when you’d told him you were meeting Jimin for drinks - maybe it was this new thing he was trying called ‘play it cool and let her do her own thing’ - even so, you liked it. 

You end up ordering beers, after all, it is only a Thursday so that means no hard spirits, but it’s also the afternoon so that means alcohol.

“I’m glad to hear you’re not gonna pounce Jim.” He laughs, you laugh, thank god, because ever since you and Jungkook had shouted about the texting and Jimin issue, you were scared you’d have to keep a distance from the boy to prevent awkwardness. “How you been anyways?”

“Is that another way of saying who’ve I fucked since we last spoke,” his eyebrows wiggle like he’s got something to be proud about.

“Jesus, you only do think with your dick don’t you?” 

“Come onn, ask me who I took home the other night,” he’s leaning forward with a smile that you want to smother, but you humour him for the sake of conversation.

“Which unlucky bird shared your bed the other night then?” You say it with a downward tone to express your distaste for the way your conversation has headed. You also nod a thank you to the waiter who’d brought beers over, pint on either side of the table.

“Well, maybe you should ask your roommate.”

Beer must fly out of your nose, mouth and ears with the way you choke. Literally, you’re spluttering everywhere and he’s laughing and you’re sure it’s a sick joke, but his smile says otherwise.

“She’s fucking gay!” That’s all you come up with. You know your roommate like the back of your hand, or so you think, and every part of you is wracking every part of your brain right now for some conversation where she said she’d shag Jimin, or shag a guy in fact. Nope, nothing.

“I thought so too, clearly she didn’t.” You’re angry at him by the way you scoff and take another long sip of your beer but you don’t even know why. Maybe you’re angry at her, but that also kind of feels invalid.

“As if she didn’t tell me.” He just shrugs. “... nah what the fuck man!” 

“Listen, talk to her about it. I’m pretty sure I was mad drunk, so was she, and she left before I woke up so…” The last bit sounds about right, Mia was never one for sticking around for morning cuddles, but it’s all just wrong and it’s stewing in your head like a bad memory. 

You're still questioning your entire existence it seems like when the conversation moves onto why you’re really here, or as Jimin says it, “So if the fucker knows we’re doing something for his birthday now, does that mean we actually have to do it?” 

God, he’s hard to talk to. You find yourself for half your conversations with Jimin either saying ‘fuck off’ or your scoffing. You do the latter now.

“We were doing something anyway, don’t act like you don’t care. But yeh, he knows, so why don’t we just fucking put in money for alcohol and bud and hit up the beach or something at Hobi’s. Simples.”

Jimin downs his pint - it’s a Thursday and you don’t know why - and then nods, “Yeh, sounds like I can fuck with that. But let’s tell Taehyung cos he’s rich and loves weed more than the next person.”

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

Like hell was there booze and weed. Taehyung had done the most, with Namjoon, and there was enough for 200 people to get fucked 10 times over, which with the 70 people that were apparently already at the beach, seemed like a mass death wish.

Hoseok, poor Hoseok, was hosting. You’d asked and he’d accepted like the selfless man he is and also because he loves Jungkook like a mother loves her child. It wasn’t his uni place, but his parent's beach house on the part of the coast where the beach stretched 20 yards deep and the water felt like the arctic on your skin, but even so, the parties out there were sick. 

You can just tell by the boyish grin on your boyfriends face he knows exactly the way this route takes you, the taxi driver, however, keeps giving you evils through the mirror probably because this journey is long and you’re not even on a real road at this point. But the vodka already in your system means you don’t care and you hold Jungkook’s hand in full-fledged excitement.

You swear you’re not corny.

He keeps his hand in yours even when you pay the driver, and tightens it further when everyone around the back of the cabin rings out in a chorus of ‘surprise’. He even holds your hand when he’s handed both a beer and a joint, somehow juggling them both in his free one.

Somewhere along the line between sharing conversations and drinking yourself silly, he whispers a ‘thank you’ in your ear, and presses a grateful kiss onto your lips.

The sun had been low for a while, with the expanded horizon offering the perfect view to watch it set. 

Still not corny, you promise.

But the smoke flowing through your system and the light hum of alcohol to accompany it just doesn’t allow for you to leave his side. Even through conversation after conversation, ‘happy birthday’ handshakes that made him switch which hand he was holding you with just so he didn’t let go, and even when the boys attempted a birthday bumps, you were there, glued tight.

“Fuck it, I wanna skinny dip!” Oh Jimin, oh that poor poor boy and his utterly delusional brain.

“Mate, that’s the high talking, leave it out.” You’re glad your boyfriend speaks sense when intoxicated because Tae’s there behind him clapping his back, encouraging him.

“Jim, legit 5 degrees right now, your dick’ll fall off if you go anywhere close to the sea.” And Namjoon, also ever with the straight head. Ah, you say that, but when you turn to the geez he chucks the small end of a lit blunt in his mouth and then swallows it down with beer - I guess his head will be going sideways now, in T-minus 5 seconds.

“You guys are pussys, my dick’ll just shrivel a bit…” 

“Fucking rancid, don’t wanna hear it.” Throwing your half empty beer can also seems to do the trick of shutting him up about his dick as he hangs his jaw that’s dripping with beer, warm from being half finished.

“Bitch.”

“Oi! None of that, Park.” Jungkook’s tone is serious but he’s smiling all the same, content in the setting he’s in, not despite of but because of the deluded conversation, the weird dynamic you guys all have, the way he’s just himself, and the fact you’re there too, with a vice grip on his hand.

It’s all breathy laughs and the occasional pressing of lips on your neck from where you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap, as the conversation delves from somewhere between Jimin’s sex life (surprise surprise) to what Hoseok would look like on steroids - the mutual group decision, so, so, wrong. 

“Baby, I wanna get going.” 

“Hm?” You were caught in laughter and didn’t think you heard him right, so you turn in his lap to throw an arm around his shoulder, all eyes and ears for your man.

“I kind of wanna get going home.”

You’re surprised, looking through the glaze in his eyes to see if he’s too stoned or not having a good time, but you just see him content gaze, boring adoration into yours. Leaving now would also make you the first to leave, and it was his party.

“You wanna go like right now, right now?”

“Mmm,” and there’s something you can't pinpoint in his expression, apprehension maybe.

“Okay, should I be worried? You’re good right?” 

And his head drops to make you think ‘shit’, but then he’s laughing, shoulders shaking under your tense arms before he grabs at your face and places a kiss on either cheek. The blush creeps up on you before you can hide your face in his shoulder.

“I’m fine, so good.”  It’s almost a shout of a confession as he throws his head back to demonstrate the emotion behind the words, but the way his smile lifts to his eyes tells you all you need to know. You’re still not quite getting why the happy boy you’re perching on wants to ditch his own surprise party, but each to their own, you think.

“Okay? You’re sure you don’t want to stay?”

Affirming you’re correct with a head shake, he leans in once again, squeezing at your sides ungraciously tight before smashing his lips to yours in a rough, open mouthed kiss that is neither something you were ready for or something you’re about to do with Jimin and Namjoon next to you.

So, you’re both laughing, him attempting to plaster his lips to your face and you swatting as his arm that fixes you in place to him.

“Kook fu- baby,” you begin to scramble away and he lets you, laughing out at the way you flatten your hair and fumble at you jeans as a means to compose yourself, “Time and a place, you dick.”

Stares and smiles are all you give each other as the ambient sounds of others continue around you. It’s like that with him - the world keeps buzzing around you but you’re not in that world, you’re somewhere too deep in his.

Please believe me, you’re not cringy!

“Come back,” hand out, legs spread wide to make room for you and you cannot help the way your feet appease his every word.

You’re eyes down on him, and his up at you, blown full with love, lust and everything in between and you settle in the warmth of his proximity and in the heat of his gaze.

“I love you.”

So you kiss him, because, “I love you too Kook.”

“Now order that fucking taxi, I wanted to go all of two hours ago.” And there he is, earning himself another smack to the arm.

“You bastard, you’re lucky I’m whipped.”

“Yeh you fucking are Y/N!” Jimin can suck a dick, the wanker. Throwing a final middle finger up to the offending boy and holding the other hand out for your boyfriend, you get onto the route home.

Silence is not always a bad thing. You’d told yourself that the whole way home. You especially knew how car journeys when inconceivably high and drunk could make the head spin and the voice mute, but neither of you were inconceivably high or drunk. His hand was still there on yours from beach to taxi, taxi to apartment, apartment to bedroom, but the smile was gone. 

“Baby, what’s wrong, talk to me.”

“Mmm?” Playing it off, yet he still won’t look at you - the boy never could do confrontation or telling you what he wants.

He’s across the room, carrying the tea he’d made you to your side of the bed when you told him you’d felt a headache coming on. And you’re there just watching, the moping, the shrug and the way he now stops as you reach out your hand to tug at his shirt. 

“Oi, look at me.” Eventually, and what looks like with effort, he does. “You gonna talk to me now, or what?” And you begin to worry at the way his gaze digs into your face, eyes pouring emotion that is scattered in so many different directions you can’t keep up. Is he sad? Nervous? Why would he be nervous?

“I love you.” There’s more to be said just in the way those three words come out, and it scares you.

“Okayy…”

“Like I really love you. So much sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

“Koo-” He grabs at your neck and finally takes control of his voice, no longer apprehensive and filled with mixed signals, but so affirmative that it takes every word from your mouth.

“You’ve waited for me Y/N. So fucking long. I’ve been shit to you as well recently. I just can’t fathom that you’re here and you’re mine and it fucking scares me, you have to get that.” Eyes well on both his and your side, as words unspoken, are finally spilt. Maybe it’s the occasion or the alcohol but you don’t care. “Everything about you is everything I ever want and what happens if I fuck it up and lose it. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you.” It’s a mantra spoken by him on so many occasions, like if he says it, it’ll never happen.

“And what if I feel the same, Kook.” Forehead to forehead now and so deep into the caverns of his eyes, you’d give him your whole soul if he asked. 

“You do?.. Feel the same?” You’re sure he knows you do. You’re sure he hasn’t been deaf to the thousands of ‘I love you’s’ and wholehearted confessions made by you. But he’s fragile to the extent that he needs to hear it. Needs to hear you say that you’re willing to lose everything here.

In a passing breath you whisper your confession, “yes,” and he squeezes at the hairs at the back of your neck that stand on end with every goosebump in your body. 

The tears fall just as he puts his lips to yours and oxygen becomes gold dust with the way you’re so breath taken. But it’s the happy kind of breath taken, that feeling right before christmas as a kid when you know everything’s waiting for you on the other side of sleep, that feeling where the sinking dries up in your stomach and every fibre of you body buzzes uncontrollably, the kind of breath taken where you smile and laugh in full-fledged giddiness.

Pulling away, you do just that, laugh against his mouth, smile without thought, and despite the tears that drip onto your lips you keep kissing at him, peck after peck because he’s laughing and crying with you.

Fuck, this was the moment you were converted to cringe. You didn’t give two shits about it either.

“I thought you were about to fucking break up with me, you absolute knob!” He thumb scoops up the tears as he laughs at you, sniffling to himself in the emotion of the moment that you two were still somewhere swept up in.

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Maybe.” 

Before the last tear is swept away at the motion of his thumb on your cheek, Kook ducks down and sweeps you up, over his shoulder and then with a not so forgiving thump to your back, you hit the bed - looks like he forgot his bed was made of fucking rocks, great for sex though, no squeak. And suddenly it dawns on you as hard as you just hit that mattress. That look in his eyes, now, earlier at the beach, the entire strung out fucking monologue he just gave you. All in the name of sex. 

“Can we- you want to- do it.” 

Fuck, it’s actually happening.

You suppress the butterflies with a laugh that surfaces from the way he stutters. 

“Well, what the fuck dyou want me to say. We’ve waited 5 months and you want me to just say, ‘oi Y/N, let me fuck you’.” 

But the laughing doesn’t seize. 

“I’m sure fucking not saying I want to make love to you, because imagine that gettin relayed to the boys. Instantly my dick goes from a 7 on hard to a 5.”

“Aw babe, give yourself credit, you’re at least a 5 and a half.”

“Bitch.” 

And with that he presses his full weight into you, smiling into the kiss that sucks deep into your lips, harsh but tender in all the right places. It turns you on the way he goes slow with you, maps outlines on your skin with his touches, and it makes you even hornier when his boner slowly grows into the meat of your thigh. 

It’s a moan in response to him biting your lip that has him off you and flipping the position so you straddle him. But tight jeans don’t accommodate for being on top, the fucking inconvenient bitch, so it’s with the slow teasing pace, that he seems to be going for, that you take as the jeans come off. 

“Fuck,” is whispered somewhere between you purchasing yourself right on his crotch and the way you raise you crop top over naked breasts. 

This is not uncharted territory. The two of you aren’t nuns who have abstained from everything and anything in your relationship. No, you’re far from holy. But the way your boyfriend gapes, eyes blown and breathing sharp, he’s like a virgin on steroids.

When you lean into his body, claiming his lips once again you notice the shaking, the way his body uncontrollable shivers underneath you despite the perspiration that soaks through his shirt.

“Baby, you’re shaking,” you whisper into his mouth, and he simply nods a frantic ‘yes’ against you. “Kook, calm down, relax, baby,” and after grasping gently at his chin to pry his lips off yours, you find his gaze, eyes blown in lust and fear. 

“Okay? I’m all yours,” you take his hand and lead it to your breast, then ushering it towards the steady beat of your heart, felt beneath trembling fingertips. “All yours.”

Running your hands over the tension in his biceps, you attempt to put him at ease with the roll of your hips. His bulge hadn’t gone unnoticed for a second and it was perfectly place with the tip resting on your clit, that you could probably both go to town like that - who said romance was dead! 

“Fuck Y/N.” 

“There you go,” you push him on, sucking into the rift between his neck and his shoulders and strong arms now scoop over and round to your ass. The squeeze is convincing, hard enough that you don’t fight back the moan and hard enough that your hips move that little bit harsher. 

Breaths are heavy in your ear as you find yourself slipping deeper into the pleasure of the moment, but you know he’ll never take the initiative and make the first move.

“You’re so hard Kook.”

A groan in all he responds as you hit that spot just on his tip that he loves so much.

“I want you so bad.”

“Fuck, me too,” and desperation for more than the slow grind you opted for overcomes him. Lips latch onto yours in a harsh display as he flips you once again. 

You can’t help but smirk to yourself, pure filthy excitement taking over the fibres of your body as he stares down at you now, hungry and horny.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad for so long Y/N you have no idea.” 

“Off,” and he gets the message with how his shirt is off and somewhere across the room without his dick leaving its place nestled in your crotch.

“I’ve been dying to have you, all of you.” His teeth are clawing at the skin of your neck as he pants out his dirty confession to the rhythm of his hips. 

“You’ve been dying to fuck me, Kook?” It’s a teasing tone, but there’s no hiding the breathiness behind your voice.

“Fuck yeh.”

“Then go ahead and fuck me.”

When his gaze meets yours, his eyes are wide and disbelieving. But you’re more focused on the stain of his lips from sunken teeth and the way his hair sticks to his face from sweat. You also haven’t failed to miss the bare, toned torso pressed neatly onto your chest - abs to die for and v lines that leave the eyes wandering an unholy amount of southward.

“You want me to go in raw?” You feign laughter at how giddy he looks at the prospect.

“Birth controls a saint innit.”

“Fuck, I’m scared I’ll come in two seconds.” Great turn on. You think, you don’t say.

His trousers are off fast but when it comes to your panties, he’s calculated in the way he lowers himself to eyes level with your core, breathing haphazardly in his lust induced state into the material that he proceeds to run down the length of your leg and off at your feet.

Eyes trail up your body as he crawls his way back to your now exposed core, “Jesus, you’re so sexy.” 

“Jungkook! What would God say if he heard you talk about his son that way!”

His head literally drops and he groans, as if the turn off button hadn’t already been switched when he told you he’d blow his load as soon as dick met pussy.

“I literally have no words Y/N.” 

“Well, you better put that mouth to better use then baby.”

“Bitch.”

But his tongue is darted out and into your folds, no matter the reluctance, and he soon finds that same taste, bitter and sweet all at once that draws him in every fucking time.

“Fuck Kook.” The reaction is instant, spine arched away from the mattress as his tongue sets to work inside you, darting in and out so fast that your hips couldn’t keep up if they tried. It’s when he flattens it against your clit and the hand once pinning down a thigh pushes two fingers in so fucking deep that the moans spill. 

“Shit that’s tight,” he mutters to himself more than anyone as his delving fingers reach that spot that has you stringing his name and curses into an aimless sentence. And the scene below you is even hotter than the feeling at your core, Jungkook, nestled between your legs with lips to clit, hand to pussy, and hips rutting desperately into the mattress. He’s a whole fucking view and it has you keening with your hands rooted in his hair that are telling him wordlessly not to let up.

When his eyes meet yours, you knows its game over, smirk overtaking his features as his fingers piston and fuck you open, thumb taking over the role his lips had on your clit just so he gets to watch you fall apart under him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

“Holy fuc- shitt. Jungkook.” And your moans are the hottest things he’s ever heard as you tumble into a hell of a fucking orgasm. Shocks ripple through your body with the rate of his fingers and everything pulses as you cum, and keep fucking cumming.

Kook can barely help the way his cock seeks better friction against the mattress because of the bliss written on your face. And he almost forgets to let up on the frantic way his fingers still fuck you because your glistening chest lifting up and down in the light has his focus completely elsewhere. 

“Kook, I can’t.”

“Sorry baby,” he lets up with one final kiss to your clit, the jolt of pain and pleasure causing you to whine briefly. His cock twitches at the sound.

“Y/N I’m so hard, please.” 

You drag him up with the hand still woven deep in his locks so he’s eye level, and dick level with the place he wants it most. Wordlessly and still driven by the buzz from your orgasm, your hand guides him into you and fuck if the moan against your mouth isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Holy fuck.” Nestling his head into the crook of your neck with deep breaths to accompany it, you can tell he’s trying to hold back the feeling of his balls tightening and ignore the way you still pulse from your orgasm. It’s tight and it’s so fucking bare because he’s never gone raw before. Fuck, neither of you have had sex in six months so the feeling might just make you both combust on the spot.

“Slowly baby, it’s been a while.” You’d known he’d reach your stomach just from the way he fucked your throat every other day - his girth is nothing far from impressive and it’s stretching you without even moving.

Light kisses press their way from neck to jaw to mouth as he pulls out to the hilt and then back in, slowly, tantalising slowly so that you both moan into the other's mouths, breathy and completely consumed by the feeling of each other.

“Fuck I’m never gonna get enough of this now.”

“Mmm,” you really hoped he wouldn’t.

“God I love you so much, your pussy is actual heaven.” And you hate to say the way the praise goes straight to your core, but your boyfriend can most certainly tell from the clench you hold his dick in. “Fuckkk, so good.”

It’s slow and it’s deep and he’s hitting your g-spot and clit with every roll of his hips. Throughout the murmurs of affection and sex filled admissions, you grasp at each other's skin, his hands pulling your hair so your mouth meets his and your hands across the muscles in his back that flex under your fingers with each thrust. 

It’s when he drags one hand to your throat and grips at it to balance his sped-up movements that you’re finding yourself teetering towards the edge again, spilling words never spoken and sounds never heard but he’s saving every one of them to memory.

“Faster baby please,” and he obliges instantly as he dives into you hard and fast, “babyy oh shit.”

“Y/N you’re clenching so fucking hard right now,” but he’s left you breathless to the point of no reply.

Several punishing slams that also attack your clit have eyes rolling and you biting down into his shoulder, suppressing the scream that surfaced without your consent.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He keeps pounding away, forcing you deeper and deeper into a spiral of pleasure, until his lips are on yours and he ruts a final few times, grunting and moaning into your mouth. “So good, so good,” and he repeats this until he’s still above you and finally the hand wound into your neck lessens it’s pressure so the throb in your body and up to your head dies into a tingle. 

It’s the most content and blissful silence, post orgasm, wrapped in the warm and wet body of your boyfriend. That is until he begins mumbling inconceivable words into the shoulder he decided to rest on.

“What baby?”

“I said,” lifting himself to eye level, and he’s a fucking sight for sore eyes. “Worth the fucking wait.” 

And with a tired, fucked out smile, light kiss to his lips, you can most certainly agree. 

Worth the fucking wait.

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Hunting Dogs: Chapter Nine (proxies x reader)

ou waited for your mother with your earphones in, playing your F/S and look around occasionally. You didn't know how long you were going to be at her house, but you didn't want to pack too much and at the same time leave enough behind in case those psychos wanted to gain information on you.

You use to not be like this, but ever since the move you have changed, maybe it was because the adult life and the stress that came with it, but before here; you were a bright student, with at least one failing grade but your school let everyone graduate the year even with one failing subject, you were creative and loved to take pictures around the town you use to live in, ambition was a strong suit of yours, though it would also get you into trouble. Like, you desired and kept pushing to leave your mother's to this city...and after only a while this shit happens with being chased.

A bit of a curious cat as well, but it helps with your imaginative side...something you had lose through the transition, sure, you could definitely pick it up again, but recently it was like your head was in a constant fog and everything you use to love was like a smudge? You always use to try to stay positive as that was how your mother raised you.

After the incident with your father and the fall of his death....it was like the sun split in half, cracks falling off while staying still until it fell, casting your whole life into darkness. If it did get lighter- it was just grey.

God, how depressing I've become. You snickered, jumping at the sound of a honk. You look over, seeing your mother wave frantically from the drivers seat and your lips crack into a grin. One you haven't shared in a long time. You run over, opening the door to her car and nearly knocked her out as you swing your bag into the backseat, but she dodged in time and pulls you into a tight hug. "Oh, honey, I've missed you so much!" you smile and pull away from her, settling into the seat, "yeah, I've missed you too, ma."

You send a text to your boss about how there was an 'family emergency' and that you had to leave for a week, along with an apology, which you let out a sigh of relief when he said that Kristine would be able to cover for you and that he hopes everything would be okay.  "So, you never told me. Have you met anyone?" she smiles, nudging your arm and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, definitely, while working full time and barely having a personal life." you said sarcastically.

"Well, the twenty-minutes I've been passing through I've seen a lot of good looking people, tell me that there's no way you have someone on your mind." she signals and turns to the next lane, taking an exit. You thought about the men and how you thought one of them was cute, but too bad they were trying to fucking kill you! "No, mom. I haven't."

She sighs, dropping the conversation, "Okay, so how's work? Not too stressful? Pays enough?" she asks and you scoot up on the seat, looking around at passing cars, the trees, and then finally the clouds. The sun was trying to break the grey that the clouds have cast over the city the last week. You smile weakly, it feels like everything was starting to fit and you are glad that your mom called.

You roll down the windows enough to where you can leave your hand out, the wind pushing against your hand and you smile, feeling free from the shit behind you. "Yeah, it's not too stressful. It's a job so, obviously I can't escape it if there is a problem and I make tips so it makes up for the minimum wage part. Everyone's pretty nice." you giggle, thinking about Mr. Saka. What the hell is he going to do while I'm gone?

But then you broke into a frown, remembering the last call you had from him...about his wife.

Your mom notices and looks over at you before, taking a turn. "What's wrong, hunny?" she asks, making you sigh. "There's this older guy, he's a great customer; a regular, actually and one I've become close to, but his wife died last night, I think or maybe the day before? I don't remember. "

Maybe I should give him a call when I get to the old place. Just to check on him and also let him know I won't be back for a week.

"Oh, that's horrible." Your mom was a pretty soft person and not in a ad why but she could be very sympathetic and understanding, which was a good quality, but sometimes you wonder if it's a bit much...but who were you to judge? Maybe it was the bitterness getting to you that makes you a little uneasy around her.

Man, the city really does change you.

"It is." you said simply, looking down at her phone, seeing maps was open and that you were forty minutes away from your old home. "I think when we get there, I'll make us something to eat and sometime today, you should get some sleep. I can see bags on your eyes." You nod. Sleep sounds wonderful right now. How much have you gotten the last few days? Maybe a total of like 20 hrs? When the recommended hours of sleep was 8, you would get between 3-6 hours of nightmares mixed in with you being unconscious.

Hopefully this will be a quick ride. You slowly close your eyes while your mom was droning about the local market, being upgraded and you chuckle before dozing off.

The sound of tires screeching and something bumping into the car jolts you awake. You look around, focusing your eyes and notice the windshield was broken, smoke was coming out from under the hood and there was a red Nissan that hit the front of the car. How does that happen?! Where are we!?  You look over and see your mom with a bleeding head and her eyes closed. "NO! Mom! no, please!" You struggle to take your seat belt off as you hear sirens and reach over to check her pulse.

There was none. Suddenly the passenger side door opens and arms pull you out, you struggle, kicking and screaming for them to let you go. You couldn't see their face as your back was against their chest. You look over at the Nissan. It looks fine besides the huge dent in the front and there was no one inside. You look back over at your moms car and tears run down your cheek, "NO! MY MOM!" but a hand clamps over your mouth and a vehicle you didn't see earlier was in your sight now as you got directed towards it. You elbow the guy and kick his knee, sending him to let go and hit the ground.

Just as you turn around, your heart leaps out of your chest. It was him. It was fucking him! The guy with the side burns!

"I'll get you! Don't think for a fucking minute that you're safe!" The man with the white mask growled, shaking the bars.

You gasp and turn around, heading straight for the Nissan. You didn't want to leave your mother but the sirens were coming closer and you knew she would be taken care of, surely you would get a call or something from the hospital soon to let you know whether or not she was okay. You turn the key in the ignition and that's when you saw the other two.

"You're fucking dead bitch! Just like your mom!" the boy twitches in excitement and throws the hatchet into the Nissan's tires, the front of the car lowering on your side and you curse. How the hell are you going to make it out alive?

You search around the car, under the seats, glove compartment, back seats but there was nothing there. Like there was no one inside here previously....those fuckers!

You look back at them with immense heat in your glare, which you were sure they were only grinning like blood thirsty animals. They have trapped their prey. They move closer to the car and jump out of it, almost losing your balance but they were too quick and the one with black mask and red eyes grabs a hold of you, slamming you down against the ground so hard that you lose your vision for a moment.

"You have made our lives a living fucking hell, YOU KNOW THAT!?" A punch was sent straight into your face with enough force that a 'crack' was heard, blood gushed from your nose and down your throat, but you swallowed, tasting the metallic. "Your life?" you let out a laugh but it held no humor, shaking your head as you stare up at the man. "You guys have been chasing me since day one!"

"Because you are a witness!" The guy with the sideburns hissed while the twitchy guy pulls his hatchet out of the tire of the car. "You're fucking murderers!"

"And yet, you would think to keep you goddamn mouth shut!" red eyes said before picking up up and right as he did, a syringe with silver almost greyish hint liquid was jammed into your left arm and while you fought as hard as you could, your system shut down and all you could see was their faces gets smaller, the black borders growing bigger until you went limp.

"Let's get to the car. " Masky says while Hoodie carried Y/N's body into the backseat of the car they have stolen. Toby sat in the backseat along with Y/N. The car was started as Hoodie slid into the passengers seat. "Are you sure you're okay to drive?" He asks and Masky nods. "I took meds before I got out to help you with the fucking prick."

Hoodie nods and stares outside the window as Masky rolls out of the shadows that they hid their getaway car in and drives back to one of their locations.

[hopeswriting]

FANDOM: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

EVENT: Flufftober 2020 

PROMPT: Playing Games Together

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting​

RATING: G

PAIRING: Adult!Colonnello & Adult!Verde

SUMMARY:

Among Us AU but it’s a free for all where everyone is an impostor, and the game lasts until there’s only one left standing, or the space ship blows up on your face because it’s falling apart.

TAG WARNING: Swearing

WORDS: 725

*

The noises of the space ship falling apart sounds oddly in a rhythmic fashion, like he was swallowed by a breathing living monster.

Colonnello roams its cold, dark hallways, careful not to make any noise. Reborn is still out there somewhere, and god knows what he’s up to after the last devious plan he came up with Lal.

Thankfully Lal was the one to die, but the bleeding gash on his side is a reminder of what a close-call it was.

That evil bastard. Colonnello will enjoy tearing him apart slowly.

A message from Verde pops on the screen.

Reborn might be in the room around the corner. Be careful.

Colonnello grins, and presses himself against the wall. He takes the turn once he makes sure the cost is clear. He swings the door open.

The flight of bullets doesn’t come, but of course Reborn is smarter than that. He peers inside the dark storage room, that smells like a trap waiting its victim if he ever smelled one.

He should wait for Verde before investigating further. But he’s running out of time, and if he’s going down he doesn’t want it to be because of something as lame as blood loss.

The door slams shut behind him, distinctively locking itself. Colonnello whips around.

“Fuck!”

He tugs on the handle, kicks and punches even if he knows it won’t do anything.

Good new is, Reborn doesn’t seem to be locked inside with him.

Bad new is, it means he still needs to determine what kind of trap is about to close on him.

“Don’t bother,” a voice comes from behind the door, “this is where you’re going to die.”

Colonnello gapes. “Verde, you son of a—” He bangs on the door even more vigorously, his wound be damned. “Open the door right now!”

“It has to be done.”

“We were a team, you traitor!”

“You’re only going to be a liability against Reborn. And I don't only mean your wound.”

Colonnello rolls his eyes so hard they could as well have stayed stuck. He kicks the door like a petulant child. “She said she was pregnant.”

Verde scoffs. “And you believed her.”

“Fuck off, we have a really healthy sex life, alright? Don’t make me go into the details.”

“God forbid. Now don’t you worry about a thing, you’ll only suffer a little.”

Colonnello tenses. He scrutinizes the room slowly, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Maybe he can fight off whatever is about to come. And then he could still kick these two’s asses so hard they’ll never be able to sit again.

A splash sound draws his attention, and the time for him to realize what’s happening the water has risen all the way to his ankles already.

Really?

“Really? You’re going to drown me? Motherfucker, you think yourself funny?”

“You were of great use to me Colonnello,” Verde says, in a solemn voice that almost sounds sad. “You’ll join your Not-Pregnant, Not-Wife soon, be at peace.”

Colonnello tries to hold back his laugh as best he can at that. It’s his big moment, he has to go down with style.

“You would have never got that far without me,” he screams. “I hope Reborn will rip your cold dead heart out of your chest.”

Colonnello fights the door as long as he can, which isn’t long at all. The blood loss makes him dizzy, drains all of his strength.

Soon he can’t stand up anymore, and slides down the door.

The water reaches his collarbones, his neck, swallows him under entirely. Colonnello closes his eyes, lets it in through his mouth and nose.

Time to join his Not-Pregnant, Not-Wife, at long last.

His helmet beeps, switches on again, a green screen welcoming him with words written on it.

Game over, you lost. Please join the morgue until the end of the game.

Colonnello huffs. He takes off his helmet, and of course he’s in Verde’s room.

He’d won too if he could trap the others in a technologically improved room. Those two are such cheaters.

Colonnello will get them for sure in the next round.

But for now he feels like bitching about the game with the others in Luce’s room. And takes off this ridiculous, mandatory jumpsuit.

Verde and Reborn always take forever to take each other out anyway.

*

I know exactly nothing about Among Us, except for the tumblr posts that found their way to my feed lol.

Thank you for reading. Any and all review are appreciated ^^.

[margoshansons]

I gave you up

Steve Harrington x Reader. Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: For @yessii-i: Steve and Reader have been best friends for years. She confesses her feelings, he doesn’t reciprocate, until he sees her with someone. Jealous!Steve. Based on Cruel to Care by Leon.

Warnings: Angsty feelings. Sexy times. Swearing.

Notes: I hope this is what you were expecting! I had some fun. The first part takes place during the beginning of season 2 and the second part takes place afterward. 

Three years. Three fucking years and all she had done with her master plan was tell Nancy about her predicament. 

“Just tell him how you feel” She offered, “I mean, what’s the worst he could do?”

Y/N threw a pillow at the younger teen, “He could reject me and our friendship could be ruined forever.”

Nancy flipped around, staring at the girl who had recently confessed her love for her current boyfriend. “Look, I’m planning on breaking up with him tomorrow anyway, so maybe you could y’know, help him move on?”

Y/N leaned forward on the bed of Nancy’s room, facing the vanity her friend was currently stationed at. “You really think he would take me on?”

Nancy turned around, the finishing touches on her costume finished. “First of all, I hate that amazing wordplay you just used, you know how I feel about that song,”

Y/N smiled at the girl’s irritation. 

“And second” Nancy continued, “Of course he will. He’d be a fool not to.”

The two girls embraced before hearing the honk from Steve’s car, racing down the stairs to notify Mrs. Wheeler of their location. 

“Evening ladies” Steve called from the driver’s seat, sunglasses covering his eyes. No doubt scanning Nancy’s body from behind the black shades. 

“Keep it in your pants Harrington” Y/N sassed, hiding the butterflies that fluttered whenever Steve was around. She moved into the back, letting Nancy take shotgun for one more day. 

“You guys ready to have some fun?” He asked, his smile sending her heart soaring as her chest swelled. 

“Hell yeah, we are” Y/N shot back, slapping her hand on his in a high five. 

The party was one of the more wilder ones, and that was in part due to the appearance of a brand new kid named Billy and his newly acquired friends. Even if she ignored the jealously that was slithering from her core to her throat as Nancy and Steve danced the night away, the alcohol helped. 

Y/N’s stomach warmed, and she could feel the spiked juice working its way up to her brain, electrifying her nerves, sending pulses of adrenaline through her, until she finally danced her way over to Steve, ready to follow Nancy’s advice. Ready to finally tell Steve about the feelings she’s been harboring since they had been little kids together. 

She found him by the bathroom, the alcohol preventing her from noticing the distressed look on his face, or the tears that had recently escaped. 

“Y/N” He wiped his face, “Thank god you’re here, I need your advice--”

“Just shut up for a moment please?” Y/N cut off, shocked by her own aggressive behavior the same way Steve was. He lurched back at the comment, following her instructions. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for three years, and now I think I finally have the courage to do it so please, don’t interrupt me.”

Her best friend nodded, the hurt look in his eyes staying longer than he wanted it to. 

“We’ve been through so much together and I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything” she began to ramble, ignoring Steve’s attempt to interject. “But I would be lying if I said I never thought about pursuing anything more. I mean it’s not just your hair, though it is a beautiful thing of god’s creation, but it’s your amazing way you’ve been able to comfort me, It’s the board games we played when we were little, It’s everything you do really.”

“Y/N this isn’t really a good time--”

“I guess, what I'm really trying to say, Steve Harrington,” Y/N breathed, knowing she’ll remember every bit of this in the morning, “Is that I am in love with you. In every possible way.”

The silence between them was deafening. Even as the music swirled through her ears, all she could focus on was the lack of words coming from Steve’s mouth. 

“Steve?” Y/N asked, voice breaking, “Could you please say something?”

“Y/N I--” Steve stammered, running his hand through his hair. “I, uh, I don’t know how to tell you this--”

Y/N bit her cheek. He didn’t feel the same way. Of course, he didn’t. She didn’t need to hear it to know. “You don't have to say anything” 

She gave one last longing look at the man she loved, almost tasting the apology he was going to stutter out. “I understand” Y/N turned away from her best friend, ignoring his reaching hands and stammering apologies as he didn’t even try to follow her out. She ignored the tears painting her face with the makeup Nancy had put on her face earlier, she ignored the pain spreading in her chest as she realized what she had just done.

She had ruined her relationship with her best friend. The person who had helped patch up her knee when she scraped it biking, the person who had held her when her father had left. The person who bought her ice cream and sang to her favorite songs whenever she was feeling sad. 

That person was out of her life forever.

What the hell was she going to do without him? 

She shouldn’t be missing him. She should be cursing his name. Wishing he was dead. She should be burning every piece of memorabilia the two had collected over the years. She should be punching pillows, envisioning his face on them. She should be letting go. She should hate him. 

But she knew she couldn’t. 

“This seat taken?” 

Y/N looked up from the curb to see the curly mane of Billy Hargrove, his bright blue eyes and smirk enchanting the entire high school in one night. 

“No,” she said, unsure why, “Go ahead.”

All she wanted to do was stare straight ahead. Wiping the tears from her face, she ignored the heat of Billy beside her. How his smile seemed so reminiscent of Steve’s. How he didn’t seem to want to leave after seeing her break down.

“So uh, what’s got you sitting out here instead of joining the party?” Billy asked, offering a cigarette. Y/N took it, lighting it with the lighter Steve had given her for her birthday, the lighter she had kept in her pocket for the past year. 

“I, uh, told someone how I felt” Y/N admitted, taking a drag. “And let me guess” Billy faced her, “He didn’t feel the same way.”

Y/N nodded her head, biting her lip in frustration while Billy continued to talk. 

“I don’t see why I mean you’re gorgeous for starters”

She chuckled at his compliment, blood rushing to her cheeks. 

Billy smiled at the sad girl, cigarette still between his teeth. “Wow, and your laugh is just adorable. How the hell did this guy turn you down?”

Y/N shrugged, unsure why she suddenly felt so comfortable around this stranger, “Wrong time I guess.”

“Yeah, timing can be a bitch huh?”

Y/N embraced the silence. It wasn't awkward like earlier. It felt natural. It felt...good. Her stomach fluttered when he met her gaze again, her lips perking up slightly. 

“You need a ride home?” Billy asked, gesturing to a blue car a bit down the line.

Y/N nodded, grasping the hand Billy had offered her. The two bonded further on the ride home, discussing favorite movies, awful siblings, and how much high school sucked. She learned that Billy loved to surf, and how much he missed California. By the time Billy was dropping her off, she didn’t want the ride to end. 

He reminded her of Steve. How things used to be before he started dating Nancy and pulling further and further away. 

She didn’t know why she did it. Maybe because he was the closest she’d get to Steve. Maybe she still had alcohol in her system. 

All she knew was that her lips were on Billy’s, begging him for more. Trading breaths like it was second nature. He felt so natural. He felt new. He felt good. 

“Maybe take me on a date first huh L/N?” BIlly joked before she dug back in, her hands scraping his curls upward, while his hands found her waist, pulling her over the cupholders and into the driver’s seat. His hands scraped up her back, tossing her flimsy shirt aside before crashing his lips on hers once again.

***

He had bought flowers. Fucking flowers. Roses were romantic right? That said ‘hey i realized I love you and want to say I'm sorry at the same time’. Right? He knocked on the door, nerves spiking in his chest as he waited for the wooden door from his fondest memories to open. 

“Harrington” The grating voice of his nightmares answered. “What brings you here?” Hargrove’s eyes trailed down to the roses in his hand, his chewing gum smacking obnoxiously. 

“I should be asking you the same question Hargrove” Steve crossed his arms, trying to seem as intimidating as possible. 

“Well, I was invited here by Y/N.” Hargrove continued, a smirk forming on his face. “Y’know She was pretty distraught that night of the party.”

The pain in Steve’s chest returned as he remembered the awful look she had worn the rest of the night. The look he had caused. The look that had somehow disappeared whenever this douchebag was around. Rage rose.

“Look, can I just see her?” Steve asked, unsure why he felt he had to. 

Hargrove blocked the door once again. “I think it was you that turned that sexy thing down Harrington. And as Y/N’s boyfriend, I don’t think I can tolerate that.”

Steve almost got whiplash at his statement. “I-I’m sorry, Boyfriend?”

Irritation sprung up in his stomach, slithering through his body until it fed every dark impulse in him. He wanted to punch the smirk right off of Hargrove’s stupid face. He wanted to tackle him to the ground, choking him all the while screaming about how Y/N deserves better than the creep he is. 

“What’s the matter, Harrington?” Hargrove asked, the smirk growing wider. “Upset you missed your chance to hit that?” He leaned closer until he was next to his ear. “Well let me tell you, she;s really not that great. But oh boy, does she scream like the virgin she is-- Sorry, was.”

The irritation turned to rage, spilling out over him as Steve smashed Billy’s head against the door frame. He had no right to talk about Y/N like that. He had no right to ever put his hands on her body like that. 

Hargrove pulled the flowers from his hand, wiping the blood from his lip. “Thanks for the flowers, dickhead”

The door shut in his face. 

He stormed down the driveway, anger bubbling in his chest, all while the dull pain remained. 

“Steve!” her musical voice called, running after him. He had to hold his breath at the sight. Her messy hair and sweatpants sending butterflies flying. “Wait, I uh, I want to apologize for the party.” “Hargrove?” Steve growled, surprised at the malice in his voice. “Really? All the people in the world and you choose him?”

Y/N stepped back, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you say you're in love with me one night, and then you decide to sneak off with him instead?”

Y/N huffed incredulously, “You made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with me after that night.”

“You didn't even give me a chance to say anything” He protested, knowing full well it wasn’t a valid excuse. 

“I didn’t need to!” Y/N defended, “You could've followed me. You could’ve talked to me at school. You could’ve done a million other things than ignore me while you ran off to repair your relationship with Nancy!”

He could hear her voice break. His chest exploded at the sound. Sending a shot of pain through him. “I wasn’t repairing my relationship with Nancy”

Y/N scoffed, “And I’m just supposed to believe that? Why were you hanging out with her and her brother? Why didn’t you talk to me? Why were you hanging out with her brother’s friends?” He struggled to explain the situation without bringing up mind flayers and aliens from another dimension. “I was...babysitting.” “Babysitting?” Y/N’s eyebrow dropped skeptically. “Steve Harrington, King of Highschool, Babysitter?” Steve shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, their families pay well.”

Y/N scoffed. Biting her lip in frustration. The lips that he wanted so badly to touch. “I can’t believe this. You know, I never lied Steve. In all our years of knowing each other, I never lied to you.”

She began to walk away and he knew this time he had to reassure her. “You want the truth?” He began to follow her back up the driveway. “You want the truth Y/N?” “YES!” She screamed, hair whipping. 

“The truth is, I’m fucking in love with you Y/N!” Steve confessed, nearly out of breath, “In every possible way and it kills me to see you with Hargrove at lunch. It kills me to see you shut me out. It kills me to ignore you and lie to you about the true circumstances of my life because I don’t even really know what the hell is going on!” 

His breathing increased, continuing, “The only thing I’ve ever been sure about is how I feel about you and now…” Steve ran his hands through his hair, trailing off. 

Y/N stood there, her mouth wide open at the revelation. Shock running through her system. 

“You’re the only constant in my fucked up life,” Steve whispered, hands on his hips. “I just--I can’t lose you too. Please.” 

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, the girl he loved inching further and further away from him. 

“Go home Steve” Y/N whispered, rubbing her arm nervously. 

“Y/N please--” “Just...Go” Y/N breathed, a tear gathering in her eye, “Please.”

All Steve did was stand there, watching as his best friend retreated back inside her house. He could deal with losing Nancy. But Y/N? He didn’t know how to come back from that. 

He thought about knocking once again. About telling her of Hargrove’s homicidal tendencies. 

Instead, he simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered down the street, with nothing but the sweet memories of their friendship to keep him warm in the chilly December weather.

Oof. That hurted. Please like and reblog and feel free to send in requests!

[camillemontespan]

lost stars [AU. drake, camille, leo and olivia] [part six: wine]

Part Five if you want to catch up. 

@jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @emceesynonymroll @dcbbw @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @carabeth @burnsoslow @kay-teachoices @rainbowsinthestorm @katedrakeohd

                                           ***********************************

Drake and Olivia stared at each other for a painfully long moment. Olivia watched him, her gaze steady, challenging him to think up another lie. All Drake could do was stammer, ‘I smell like sex?’

Olivia didn’t break her gaze. ‘You also smell like that overpowering coconut shampoo she uses.’

Drake reddened. ‘I don’t-’

‘Don’t know what I’m talking about?’ she asked, her blue eyes narrowed. ‘Save it, Drake. I knew this was coming. You and Camille.’

Drake helped himself to an empty wine glass. Olivia stared at the glass as it filled with red wine.

‘You aren’t meant to drink the heavy stuff.’

‘Heavy stuff refers to whiskey,’ Drake said bluntly. ‘Wine isn’t heavy.’

Olivia took the glass from him before he could pick it up. ‘No, Drake.’

‘Stop treating me like a child,’ he muttered.

‘I’m looking out for you,’ she told him, a warning tone in her voice. ‘I have always looked out for you. I have tried my best to support you, to keep you on the straight and narrow, make sure you are feeling well. And the thanks  I get? You fuck her.’

Drake sat down opposite her. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all you have to say for yourself?’

There was another silence. Drake broke it, whispering, ‘I think we should end it.’

Olivia, who had been holding her glass of wine, slammed it down on the table. ‘You are so fucking predictable.’

Drake opened his mouth to protest but she bulldozed through. ‘I knew you liked her. I saw it the moment she sat down opposite us on that double date. I saw the glances, the secret smiles, the inside jokes. It was sickening. But I hoped you would at least consider me before you acted on your feelings; I’m not an idiot, I could see you falling for her. I just wanted to be treated with respect. I tried my best to hold onto you, for God’s sake, I bought new lingerie! But you weren’t interested. Instead, you went and fucked her. And you lied about it. Why did you lie? What the fuck, Drake?!'

Drake didn't know what to say to make it right. He didn't know how to justify his actions because he knew his actions couldn't be justified.

'Did you enjoy it?' Olivia spat, raising herself up from her chair so she stood over him. 'Was it how you imagined it would be? Was it romantic? Or was it desperate guilty fucking?' She broke off to laugh bitterly. 'Ha, who am I kidding? I bet you didn't even think of me.'

Drake's ashamed face spoke volumes. Olivia stopped talking and stared at him, frozen. Her blue eyes widened and she clutched the edge of the dining table, keeping herself steady.

'You didn't even think of me?' she whispered. Her bravado had given way to this stark realisation.

Drake avoided her eyes. Her eyes which were now filling with tears. He couldn't watch her heart break in front of him.

'I thought I meant more to you,' she murmured, her voice cracking.

Drake stood up and looked her in the face. 'Olivia, I'm an asshole. You deserve better-'

'Damn right I deserve better!' she burst out. 'I deserve someone who gives a shit! Someone who respects me, who loves me! I did everything for you! What have you ever done for me?'

'I loved you!' Drake shouted.

'Clearly, not enough!' she retorted.

'We're different people,' Drake said, trying to calm down. 'You are fiery and vibrant. You need to be with someone who meets you on your level.'

'And that's not you?' she asked harshly.

Drake sighed. 'All I do is disappoint you, Liv,' he whispered. 'I hold you back. I know you worry I will start drinking heavily again. You can't relax with me. Frankly, I wish you broke up with me when you discovered my drinking problem because at least then, you would have been free. But you're too good, too loyal. You tried your best to support me and I just kept throwing it in your face.'

He clenched his fists, trying to pick the right words. 'When I say you deserve better, I honestly mean it.'

Olivia was silent for a moment. She paced the room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. She looked regal. When she came back to the table, she took another long sip of wine. Her eyes were narrowed when she faced him.

'I want you to get out,' she told him coldly.

Drake nodded, accepting the fact that she wasn't going to forgive him or make this a nice breakup.

'I hope you're happy together,' Olivia continued. A wicked smile spread on her face, not meeting her eyes. 'That is if the slut has broken up with her actual boyfriend. You know, Leo? Your co-worker and friend? Remember him? Or were you too busy fucking her senseless for you to care?’

Drake's jaw set. 'I'll pack my stuff,' he muttered.

He sloped out of the room, leaving Olivia. She sat down at the table, her back ramrod straight. She drank more of her wine as she listened to him pack a rucksack with his things.

When he placed his keys on the table, he didn't look at her. 'I'll grab the rest of my stuff later this week,' he said.

Olivia said nothing.

It was only after Drake shut the front door behind him that Olivia allowed herself to crumble. Her shoulders heaved as she rested her head in her hands, hot tears flooding her cheeks.

She then downed the last of her wine and walked shakily to the bathroom. Olivia stared at her reflection in the mirror, pressing her palms under her eyes, willing herself to calm down. 

She wet her face with cold water and dried her skin gently, silently. Blinking, she looked at her reflection again. Her eyes were red rimmed but nothing cucumber couldn't fix. Her alabaster skin was blotchy but that would calm down.

Olivia straightened herself and threw back her shoulders. 'You don't need him,' she said out loud. 'You don't need anyone.'

Turning, she strode back out the bathroom as if the evening hadn't happened.

                            **********************************************

Leo blinked rapidly, his mouth agape.

‘You’re.. you’re breaking up with me?’ he asked.

Camille nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Leo.’

Leo squeezed his eyes shut then opened them. His head was spinning. He eyed the bottle of wine on the table and poured himself a glass. He downed it in one.

Camille winced. She watched as he turned to look at her. ‘Is it because I forgot your birthday?’

‘No, Leo. I’m not five. This runs deeper than that.’

‘Deeper? How?’

‘Leo, I’ve been falling out of love for a while now,’ she told him. Leo shook his head. 

‘Well, I wasn’t.’

Camille clutched her wine glass. ‘Leo, you never loved me.’

‘Bullshit!’ Leo protested. ‘I really love you!’

‘Then tell me what my favourite flowers are.’

Leo blinked again. His eyes flashed to the flowers he had bought her as an apology. ‘You like roses,’ he answered. 

‘No, I like sunflowers.’

‘Since when?!’

‘Since forever!’

They stared at each other for a moment. Leo sighed. ‘I do love you, Camille. I do.’

‘You never tell me,’ she whispered, looking down at the floor. ‘You only tell me you love me when you’ve been drinking or when you’ve done something wrong.’

Leo bit his lip. He couldn’t argue with that. ‘I guess feelings aren’t my forte,’ he joked. The joke landed badly. She drank a long gulp from her glass. 

‘That is why you shouldn’t be in a relationship,’ she said coldly.

‘Camille, what’s brought this on? We were fine! Happy! Let’s go back to that!’ he begged, grabbing her hands. ‘I’ve booked us dinner at the Plaza tonight!’

‘I wasn’t happy,’ she said. ‘I’ve not been happy for a while.  You think roses and the Plaza will fix this but Leo, it won’t. I just don’t want to be with you anymore.’

Her words hit him.

 He looked away from her, avoiding her gaze. He needed to look at something else, something to distract him. His eyes caught the newly washed bed sheets hanging up on the radiator. 

‘Laundry day is tomorrow,’ he said automatically.  Camille liked the apartment to have a routine. See, I pay attention. 

Until it hit him. 

He stood up quickly and went to the bathroom and opened the laundry basket. Dirty laundry was inside. Leo raced to the bedroom and saw the bed stripped with the windows open full, but the smell of sweat still clung to the air. 

Camille was already standing up when he re-entered the living room. 

‘Who the fuck is he?’ Leo asked.

‘Leo-’

‘Camille, who the fuck have you slept with?’

Camille closed her eyes. She whispered a name but Leo didn’t catch it. Or he did, but he didn’t want to believe it. He stormed closer to her. 

‘Say that again.’

Tears ran down Camille’s cheeks. ‘Drake,’ she whispered. ‘I slept with Drake.’

Leo stepped back, his face turning white. ‘Drake? My Drake? My work friend, Drake?’

Camille nodded mutely, her face wet from tears. She wrung her hands together. ‘I’m sorry..’ she whispered. 

‘You slept with him in our bed,’ Leo said quietly, almost to himself

Camille nodded again. 

‘You cheated on me with Drake, in our apartment, in our bed..’ Leo clarified.

Camille nodded again.

‘What the fuck, Camille?’ he shouted. Camille grabbed his arms as she breathed rapidly, her heart pounding. She may not love Leo but she still cared; she didn’t want him to hurt. 

Leo pushed her away. ‘No, Camille. You’ve made it clear. You don’t love me.’

Camille followed him helplessly as he walked away from her to grab his jacket. ‘I should have broken up with you first,’ she said, her voice high pitched. ‘I’ve treated you like shit and I’m sorry.’

Leo turned to look at her, shrugging his jacket on. ‘Well, Camille, hindsight is a bitch.’

He slammed the apartment door to go find a bar to get wrecked in.

Alone in the silence, Camille suddenly felt a sense of relief wash over her. Cold, fresh relief. It was over; she had ended it. Finally.

Relief was then replaced by searing revulsion.

You are such a cold, hard bitch, she thought to herself. You have just slept with his friend and hurt him in the process and all you can feel is relief. What kind of sick, horrible person are you?

Blinking back tears, Camille padded back through to the living room. Her eyes caught sight of the bed sheets on the radiator. Before she could stop and think, Camille wrenched the damp bed sheets from it and ripped the sheets through her hands as she screamed. ‘You stupid fucking bitch!’

She threw the bedsheets on the floor and slumped down, her back against the wall, breathing heavily. She had tried to be careful; she had tried not to get close to Drake. But she had. She had gotten close to him and had wanted him.

Camille had had Drake in the end. 

But what now?

                      *****************************************************

‘Could you re-position the logo so it’s a bit more in your face?’ Kiara asked Drake. Drake did what she asked, ignoring the fact that his colleague was leaning against his desk, her mini skirt hiking further up her thigh. He knew she was doing it deliberately; Kiara’s nickname in the office was Kinky Kiara. She loved sex and innuendos; before Leo had met Camille, he had had a one night stand with Kiara and apparently, she was too kinky for Leo.  And that spoke volumes because Leo (according to Leo) was a god in the sack.

Drake had stayed in a cheap hotel last night. After leaving Olivia, he had wandered around the streets until he found a ‘Vacancy’ sign  lit up in the hotel window and he bought a room. 

He felt like the world’s shittiest person.

Sure, he had loved yesterday with Camille. But he had forgotten about Olivia and Leo in the process. Why hadn’t he just ended things with Olivia first? Why had he lied? 

Drake had lied because he knew how Olivia had felt about Camille. Camille was a threat. Olivia hadn’t liked her from the start, so to admit that he had acted on his forbidden feelings would only have served to make Olivia feel inferior. By lying, Drake thought he was protecting Olivia but really, he had only been looking out for himself. He had been selfish, having his cake and eating it. 

‘Yeah, I like that. Ooh, could you add this font? It’s so pretty,’ Kiara suggested. 

They both jumped when Leo’s voice lilted behind them. ‘Yes, so pretty.’

Drake turned slowly. Leo’s face was filled with fury. So, he knew. Camille had told him the truth. 

Drake began to speak. ‘Leo-’

Leo’s fist connected with Drake’s face. Drake’s vision blurred and he heard Kiara scream and the rest of their colleagues jump up from their seats. He fell to the floor in a heap and clutched his face, before looking up at Leo, who was panting. 

‘You are a fucking asshole,’ Leo spat. 

He stepped forward with his foot raised, ready to kick him in the stomach, but Kiara pulled him back.  Restrained, Leo stared down at Drake, his eyes flashing. ‘I fucking quit!’ he shouted, looking around the room. ‘I’m not working with this piece of shit any longer.’  

He pushed Kiara away and headed to the door. 

Drake tried to stop him by calling his name.  Leo looked at him now, the angry expression on his face turning to sadness. 

‘You were meant to be my friend,’ Leo whispered. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Drake managed to say. 

There was a horrible silence before Leo spoke and this time his voice was clear and steady.  ‘That’s also what she said. You’re welcome to each other.’ 

[taeyongsbalenciaga]

NCT 127 reacts: Having a nasty argument w/their S/O in front of the other members.

Taeyong: “Taeyong! I’ve literally been so panicent with you! I know I fucking deserve better than being ignored, so you can go flirt with other people,” You lowered your voice, as his members went silent. 

“Maybe if you actually fixed yourself up for me, I wouldn’t be interested in other people!” Taeyong snapped. You were going to talk back, but were so tired of fighting and you just walked out. “Hyung, they’ve been so loyal to you...” Jisung said softly. Taeyong’s stomach turned, regretting his every action and words.

Jaehyun: Your naturally flirty personality finally got you in trouble. “Why do you have to flirt with everyone?!” Jaehyun whined. “Excuse me? When have I ever flirted with anyone, but you?” You said slightly embarrassed, as the group stopped practicing. “Fucking everyone,” Jaehyun chuckled. “Sorry for my natural fucking charm Jaehyun!” You scoffed.

“No, you’re just a hoe (Y/N),” Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.” 

“I’m pretty sure you crossed the line,” Johnny pointed out. 

Taeil: “Maybe if you weren’t, so depressed I’d actually would want to spend time with you,” Taeil said loud enough to make the room go silent. You chuckled, “fine Taeil, go fine some other bitch that’ll listen to your family fucking problems.” You grabbed your sweater and left him speechless. He stabbed you in the back so, you stabbed back and harder.

“Did she just break up with him?” Mark asked softly.

Jungwoo: “Stop being so fucking clingy, gosh (Y/N) I need my own fucking space!” Jungwoo pushed you as you tried to kiss him. “Said the softest boy in the world,” You chuckled, “Shut the fuck up, oh my god! You’re so annoying,” Jungwoo groaned. 

“How about I give you some space permintally-” “That sounds fucking amazing!” Jungwoo threw his arms in the air, relived. You smiled at him and walked out. 

“Jungwoo, you do realise that they just broke up with you right?” Taeyong asked.

Mark: “Want to know why I’m so stressed?” Mark raised his voice, catching everyone’s attention. You didn’t answer, not wanting to cause a scene. “Fine, (Y/N) I’ll tell you because I’m so tired of holding it back,” Mark sighed. 

“Mark calm down,” Haechan chimed in, trying save you both from a fight. 

“I’m so tired of walking on eggshells around you. Get over your fucking trauma, stop being the fucking victim! I happened 10 years ago (Y/N)!” Mark yelled. Your eyes started to get teary, “We’re thru. Don’t ever talk to me again Mark Lee.”

“Dude,” Haechan and everyone else was disappointed. 

Yuta: “Stop fucking calling!- Maybe if you weren’t so fucking insecure you wouldn’t act like a bitch,” Yuta yelled at you through the phone. Everyone heard you hung up. “I think you should called her back, as someone who’s heard you non-stop gushing over (Y/N),” Winwin advised.

Johnny: “Stop fucking following me! Go get a life of your own (Y/N)! damn you’re always all up in my shit,” Johnny complained. “Oh yeah, no. Sorry, I fucking used my lunch break on your bitchass to come check up on you,” You scoffed. “No one wants you here! Leave already!” 

“Delete my fucking number Johnny,” You shook your head. Awkward silence fell in the room. “Johnny she hasn’t seen you in forever..” Yuta reminded him. Johnny sighed, “fuck.” 

Haechan: “Shut up already, damn you talk so much. How the fuck did I love you?” he accidently said out loud. They all stopped laughing at your joke. “Past tense huh?” You scoffed, getting up from the circle you joined the guys in. “Bye Haechan.” 

Jungwoo wanted to fix the mood, so he got up to play Simon Says. Simon says you’re a real vibe killer. Mark laughed at the impeccable timing, but Haechan glared at him, so he shut his mouth real fast.

Doyoung: “You really want to know why I lied?” he snapped. “Yes, Doyong please enlighten me on why you lied to me on our anniversary to meet up with someone else,” You really wanted to hear his poor excuse. “Because I wanted a break from you,” Doyoung couldn’t lie anymore. “Well thanks for wasting a year of my life,” You choked out and slammed the door behind you. 

Winwin: “Oh my fucking god, why he still texting you? Why are you still texting him?” Winwin rolled his eyes. “I’m not texting him!” You threw your phone at him. “Shut up, yes you are! All you want is fucking attention and you never care who it’s from,” Winwin chuckled clearly annoyed.

“Winwin check my phone if you don’t trust me!” You sighed, it was the second time today you’ve heard about this. “No, I’m so done with you. I can’t do this anymore, how the hell am I supposed to trust you when you’re texting other guys huh?”

You felt like you were choking holding back your tears and the other members noticed. “Hey (Y/N), want a ride home?” Johnny asked you softly. “Yes please,” you answered softly. The other members put some snacks they had in a bag for you. “Um I printed out two plane tickets earlier, at your dorm.- I’ll pick it up tomorrow..bye guys,” You waved, accepting the plastic bag Jungwoo handed to you.

Winwin was dumbfounded, “what plane tickets?” “They’ve been talking to their travel agent, planning you mini vacation when they notice how sad you got over promotions,” Lucas explained, playing his fingers awkwardly.

Sorry, some are short, I wrote some of these running on fumes. <3

[pandaisalwaysinlove]

The clown thing again  chapter 4

Summary: Finally the demon reveals himself and suddenly you and the boys know why he desires to kill you. 

Warnings: violence, threatening, , language

Genre: fanfiction

Pairing: reader x sam, reader x dean

Rating: 18+

A/N: Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.. gif and picture are mine

Chapter one here

Chapter two here

Chapter three here

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He was just the same as you remembered. The same old twisted nightmare you managed to forget for a few days. Long black coat, gloves, messy hair and those dreadful eyes. 

And the smile of course. 

Unnatural, evil smile that wasn’t even smiling. 

“Long time no see, Y/N.” he purred. 

Dean took a step to him but before he even raised his hand with a small bottle of something, an invisible power pinned him to the wall. 

“It’s been a pleasure.” noted the clown and smiled politely. 

Sam stood before you. The feeling of his large body defending you should have given you the safety mode, but is didn’t. You knew very well not even an elephant could protect you. 

“And you are?” asked the clown then his eyes landed on Sam as if he was the most unimportant man to him. 

More of an insect. 

“Nevermind..” sigh and the slightest move of his wrist made the other Winchester pinned right on the other side of the room. 

“Oh well well look who we have here!” 

You started to sob. 

“Please...”

“Who are you?!” screamed Dean. Probably just to take his attention on himself, you couldn’t tell. 

“You see,” began the answer “Little Y/N here know exactly who is behind this mask, don’t you darling?” 

“I don’t-,” you gasped when his hand came up like a snake to squeeze your neck. He raised you from the couch to face him. 

“Uh uh uh.., slowly..” he scolded “Look into my eyes...” few seconds of silence “You know exactly..” 

You held your breath. 

“Jimmy!” 

“A-ah! That ugly head of yours does have a brain!” he yelled with excitement. Just before you could start to beg and ask his hand run through your hair. 

He grabbed it and with force pused you back to the couch.

“Y/N!” Sam cried

“I’m sorry, Jimmy is currently not available.” he said. 

With one of his hand he manage to hold yours above your head. The other just took off the knife out of somewhere. 

You heard how Sam and Dean were moving a lot trying to get out of their traps. 

His lips twisted in soft smile “But he wanted to do this for soo long.” 

“Please...” you sobbed “Why..” 

He rolled his eyes “Isn’t it obvious?! It hurt his feelings when you dumped him ! And I helped him to ventilate this.”

“So what you do is possesing people that are..” sounded Dean again. 

“Cracked, yes.” agreed he “You see - madness is like gravity - all it takes is a little push.” he laughed.

“STOP quoting Joker you son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice was on its edge. 

“Jimmy was a fan! He left it all here!” shrugged the clown and tapped on his forhead. He leaned down to confess “I must admit I love his methods.” 

You couldn’t understand a word. Though Dean and Sam tried to explain what is this thing, you catched only word ‘possesed’. Right now you could see only his dark eyes.

The silver knife appeared again as he smiled. 

“Haven’t you heard of healing power of laughter?” and then you felt the cold iron in the corner of your mouth.

“Exorcizámos te, ómnis immúnde spíritus, ómnis satánic potéstas...!” 

Just when the first drop of your blood warmed your neck Sam’s voice resonated the room. 

The clown immediately shook himself, hissed like a cat and quickly run towards Sam. 

Just when he raised his hand to squeeze Sam’s neck, something stopped him. And in the minute he was trapped, Sam and Dean were free. 

“Son of a bitch..” Dean swore as he picked up his bottle from the ground and chafed his wrists. 

Sam didn’t properly look at the clown. He rushed to you to help you get up from the couch. You had tears and blood all over the face and one corner of your lips were cut. 

“Dean we must-,” he started, but you stopped him. At least you tried. 

“Wha..ou.. you.. to hi..” the mouth kept pulsing with pain.

Dean smiled at your trapped ex boyfriend with cruel smile “Kill him.” 

“Devil’s trap, my my, that was good!” clapped the clown and pointed at the Winchesters “You are good ones.”

You  stood up and made a few steps towards him. Sam held you arm and propped a bit. 

“Wh..wh..y..”  you managed to say. 

The demon put a hand behind his ear and frowned “Sorry? You were saying?” with sarcastic voice.

Dean poured the liquid from his bottle on clown’s face. A cloud of steam raised and he hissed “Aah....” but the hissing changed to laughter immediately. 

“Y/N asked you a question.” said Dean. His face was one big disgust. 

“Dean.” sounded Sam. As if he said something by just one word. His brother looked at him and raised his voice “She deserves to know! Otherwise she won’t understand anything!” and pointed at you. 

You felt Sam’s hand slightly squeezing your arm. Like he asked for permisson. You nodded slightly. 

“Aah, before you children settle this out I’m gonna..” said the clown with so laid back attitude it made you feel more angry than shocked by this whole situation. 

“Shut up!” screamed Dean and poured the water again. It caused the clown a lot of pain as far as you could tell from his face “Answer her!” Dean ordered. 

The clown frowned and replied “Choose then..shut up or answer?” he laughed. 

“Dean let’s finnish this, it’s useless.” Said Sam’s soft voice somewhere above your head. 

“Alright alright alright!” raised the clown his hands in the air in gaving up gesture. 

He looked at you and smiled “You see, Y/N, I am someone who helps people to encourage their deepest desires.” he explained like a banker telling you about your new loan product.

“He’s a demon.” translated Dean for you. 

“I could help you,” offered suddenly the clown and looked  into you deeply. His head bend on one side “I could help you to boost your dreams. The rope thing? No problem. Why your relationships never lasted long? You know deeply down it was you.. your deep hidden secrets.. I could help you..” 

You felt you moved to him like for a step. Sam’s hand stopped you. 

“Ji..m..” your sigh. 

“Ah... he was veeery cracked and down when you let him go. Actually I’d be too if a girl would dump me for what you dumped him...” he laughed “And after a while he started to play with the thought he’d give you what you wanted... just a different way you imagined.” now his face was shinning with excitement “He was so ready for me! He practically asked me to come!” he pleaded. 

You looked at Sam. He didn’t even need a words to know your question. 

“We’re gonna exorcise the demon out of him. If he didn’t hurt him before, Jim’s gonna be okay.” 

The demon started to laugh roughly “Even if you kill me - she ain’t gonna forget that the real monster lives inside of her!” his laugh hysterically turned to screaming as Sam started to repeat the foreign words 

It made the demon squirm.