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sukirichi · 3 years

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true gift

A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.

REQUEST. deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink

CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood, murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist

NOTES. ah...it feels so natural to write naoya...also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3

Today is the day – the one you’ve been prepared for ever since you’ve forced to make acquaintance with the blinding darkness and smell of rust.

What time is it? Is it morning, night...maybe somewhere in the middle?

There’s no telling, not when you’ve been staring at the pitch black darkness for what seems like forever. It’s been too long, so long, that you’ve forgotten what the world looks like. It’s like one day you’re helping your family tend to the farms when rough hands grabbed at you, and you’re shoved in a cold, dark cellar before you could even say good bye.

Oddly enough, the servants – or at least that’s what you assume they are, since they’ve been nothing but tight lipped and inherently obedient to a faceless figure – have taken extreme care of you.

Twice a day, they’d open the cellar, the sound of keys rustling and nearly muted footsteps like music into your ears. The slight sliver of light passing through from the outside is immediately concealed within a split second, a black smooth material wrapped around your eyes before they strip you off. Normally, you’d complain and fight back, but you’ve lost all the will to even defend yourself at this point.

You’ve given up a long time ago, and life’s been a lot more tolerable ever since.

Today isn’t any different. Maybe it was hours ago, two servants had came in to wash away the grime and dirt from your body before you felt something combing through your hair. Then, you felt it. A smooth, cold blade running up and down every inch of your body, rendering you immobile in fear even breathing could cut you open.

It didn’t. If anything, you felt a lot smoother, lighter, and freer.

“Is she bare?” an old, croaky feminine voice echoed in the small room, equally wrinkled hands removing the strap of your bra off before she lathers a rose-scented cream all over your body. “Naoya-sama prefers his slaves hair-free, you know that. Not even stubble is allowed, do you understand? Keep shaving her until she’s spotless.”

Naoya-sama.

So that’s where you were. It all made sense now.

For as long as you could remember, that name’s been spoken with terror, the slight tremble of voices and darkened eyes pooled with fear never absent in the presence of his name. You’ve never seen him, but you know enough to understand that he’s a prominent figure especially in your little village. He’s not human, but he’s not exactly a god either – at least, not one that people would willingly worship.

You’ve heard telltales on how his beauty alone had women dropping to their feet, the malice in those eyes of his enough to make even the strongest warriors stick to his side in fear of what he’s capable of.

He’s as old as time and as strong as the steady flow of the river you and your people have always bathed in. It doesn’t make sense that someone as fearsome as he was is living at the mountains where nothing but quiet, peaceful people rejoiced, but the more you think about it, of course he’d prefer his people submissive, heads always ducked in fear and shaking in terror.

This whole time, you thought you’d been sold off to a neighbouring clan head because your clan didn’t have enough funds to pay for the latest trade.

In a way, you’d feel a lot luckier if the former had happened instead, because there’s really no proper way of making sound of the fact you’re sacrificed to your own deity, Naoya Zen’in, after not completing your offerings to him for ten whole moons.

It’s bad, horribly so, and you should be shaking, should be crying, should be wishing for death instead, so then why are you deferential? You don’t complain when two rough hands pull you from the ground and keep your arms tight in shackles at your lower back, vision still obscured by this cloth as you’re guided somewhere – someplace that all the sacrificed women for your deity are received.

Your feet are sloppy and smacking against the hardwood floor, heart pulsing in your tongue for all the wrong reasons. Faintly, you can smell a rose-scented candle and water splashing, but it doesn’t register until you’re immersed under it.

You gasp, hair flattening onto your skin while you look around blindly, struggling to clutch onto something as your feet keep slipping into the tub.

You’ve never been into a tub before; much less recognize the soft, paper-like objects floating into the water with you. Head swaying side to side until water is sprayed everywhere, a firm hand keeps your head in place just as a pumice stone is scrubbed into your skin. It’s not painful, but the rough scraping sensation feels sensitive from your skin that hasn’t been exposed to normal, breathing air for who knows how long.

“Stop moving,” that same elderly voice commanded, and her assistants, most likely, move quickly into extending your limbs until you’re sprawled out everywhere. “We are to make you perfect, presentable, lavishing in front of our deity himself.”

“B-but —”

“You have no right to speak!” You’re left stunned as your cheek bruises red, lips wet from the water as you pant. The sting on your skin becomes more pronounced, but you dare not speak, opting to keep your lips shut instead. The elderly woman takes notice of your behaviour, humming before she makes you stand up, that same blade swiping down your exposed regions. “You learn fast and submit well. I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.”

“She is gorgeous too, my Lady.”

“She should be,” comes a retort, your jaw clenched as you keep still. She forces your legs further apart until you’re embarrassingly exposed, the rose petals in the water sticking into some corners of your skin. “If she was not, she’d be dead already. It’s her pretty face that’s keeping her alive at this point.”

Everything is a blur after that.

One moment, they’re shaving you, the next you’re thrown from one body to another. They perform all sorts of things – towel drying your hair, exfoliating your skin, plucking your eyebrows to perfection before applying a shimmer to your cheeks and something sticky and glossy to your lips, then finally you feel the warmth of silk robes you could never afford even if you work yourself to death caressing your body.

After that, you’re locked inside a much bigger room, the blindfold falling off your face slowly.

You blink in surprise.

The room isn’t that dark, but dim enough, and your heart beats louder in your chest when you see the size of the room. It’s ten times bigger than your village meeting point, a large tatami bed sat in the middle. From one side, a window is open, allowing you to see the white illumination of the moonlight that looks hauntingly romantic.

Candles are lit on either sides of the room, and your gaze lands on odd whip-like weapons placed proudly on the walls.

Your legs are wobbly as you stand, life just coming back into your unused muscles. Making your way towards it, you reach out to touch this...weapon that’s still somewhat coated with the stench of blood. It’s immaculately clean and the leather is shiny, though it’s clear this has been used for far more gruesome situations before.

I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.

You recoil your hand that’s a breath away from coming into contact with it, terror plaguing deep into your bones as you take a step back.

You’re a sacrifice, an offering, sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice – you’re brought here to die, and your god would kill you himself. Others may have considered it an honour to have died from the mercy of his hands, your oh-so divine lord who’s brought prosperity and wealth into your land, but you turn away, breathing hard as you make a break for the door.

But you never made it.

Your back lands into someone’s chest, a slight gasp falling from your lips before you’re pummelled into the ground, strong hands pinning your arms above your head. Eyes widening, you come face to face with your deity, his fox-eyes lined with dark kohl sharpening his already predatory features, ears pierced with tiny skulls and black dots.

His knee nudges your leg open and you groan, the sound making his eyes dart at you in warning before he smirks upon seeing you make no move to get away from him.

“As I’ve heard,” his deep voice cuts through the eerie silence of the room, the night so mute not even birds or insects cricketed at the presence of your deity’s need to have you for himself. “You are a compliant little lamb sent to the slaughter,” you shiver as his fingers run to caress the side of your face, his free hand undoing the knots that keeps your modesty. Naoya hums deep in his throat when the cloth falls to the sides, revealing perky nipples that pushed closer and closer to his awaiting lips at each heavy breath you took.

“You are stunning,” he praises, using a thumb to graze over the hardened bud. It’s barely a touch, but you’re sensitive, wholly new to this that you whimper. The sound is humiliating and utterly pathetic, your teeth coming down to capture your lips.

This displeases him entirely and Naoya taps your lips open, glaring at your wide, fearful yet aroused gaze. “You do not ever conceal such shameful sounds when I’m above you, do you understand?” You nod shakily, freeing your lip from its confines. Naoya snickers, chest puffing up with pleasure before he leans back to his calves, pushing the rest of your robe to the side until you’re completely exposed to him.

Your breathing grows more laboured when Naoya spreads your legs open, smirking as you whimper at the stretch of having your knees flattened by your sides. Legs placed on top of his knees, your elevated posture gives him more access to your bare pussy, his gaze zeroing in on the gleaming arousal that’s beginning to form on your lips.

“So fucking wet,” he comments, using both his thumbs to pry your pussy apart. You moan at the sensation of him pressing down on a part of you that you don’t know existed, and Naoya laughs, the sound sinister yet erotic. “You’re a virgin.”

It’s not a question – it’s a statement he takes pride in, especially because he knows he’s the chosen one to take something precious away from you.

“I’ve always loved virgins,” Naoya’s hands roam all across your body, slowly, sensually, passionately, the rough, calloused hands running under your legs to hitch them up behind his broad back, to cup your soft ass before he cups your pussy, groaning into your neck when he feels you leak and he’s barely touching you to begin with. It makes his ego swell when your hands wrap around his neck; he hates being touched by mere, lowly mortals like you, but you are undeniably gorgeous and so wanting of him that he allows you just this once. “Always so sensitive – do you want to be good for your deity? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” you cry out, eyes snapping shut when he suddenly inserts a finger in.

The feeling is foreign yet not totally unwelcomed, but you grimace anyway at the slight sting his digits bring. Naoya pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy to coax your arousal to drip further into the sheets like a waterfall, your nails digging into his robes while he watches you with a smirk. He laughs when your eyes widen at the second finger pushing in, thumb rubbing over your clit until your legs tremble around him.

“Virgins are always so gorgeous once they finally learn of pleasure,” he scoffs to himself.

You look at him straight in the eye, mouth falling open while small gasps fall through at the speed he’s pushing into you at.

Something begins to form in your lower bally until your body grows utterly warm, something...something close about to snap when he pulls his fingers out of you, throwing his head back in laughter when you cry for the first time that night.

Naoya stares at the way your gaze darts from his cum-soaked fingers back to your drenched core, brows raised cockily before he stands up, his figure looming over you. “What? Got something to say?” you only whimper in response, closing your legs as you try to provide answers to the brooding confusion punching at the back of your skull.

The sound of faint rustling brings you back to life, your eyes snapping to witness your god undressing himself, the robes falling from his shoulders too wonderfully that the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing.

Fat cock standing tall and proud, tip red and glistening with pre-cum and a body carved by fellow gods himself, the rumours were right.

He is beautiful, and it’s no lie that his slaves aren’t really slaves to begin with, not when all of them have been so eager to please him, just to have a taste of this divine being that stands before you. Naoya easily reads your face; from the slightly parted lips, thighs rubbing together and hands looming dangerously to your core – you look so needy it’s actually fucking pathetic.

He’s slow in his movements, languid and taking his time because he’s got time and more in this world that he never cares about wasting something he has a plethora of.

Naoya makes himself at home above you again, basking in the way you’re struggling to breathe even without his hands on you. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, clenching his jaw when you open your mouth submissively, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you take your juices into your mouth.

You’re a natural at this, he observes, tongue expertly swirling around his digits until you’ve licked it clean. Naoya pats your cheek affectionately, his own way of applauding you for your work.

Under him, you grow shy and abashed, arms covering your bare breasts because he’s a god, why should he be pleased with you?

Naoya doesn’t give you enough time to think before he’s hauling you upwards, your shoulders shoved back onto the ground. You kneel below him in prayer and he tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at him, or rather his cock that’s slipping past your lips. You gag when he pushes his length all the way inside, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.

Naoya sighs at finally being taken in – you should be grateful he even fingered you – his hands guiding your head to bob up and down him.

You do well at pleasing him even through the tears, clutching at his thighs while you suck in his length and swirl your tongue around the prominent veins. Naoya watches with hooded eyes as your cheeks hollow just to take his whole length in – and again, you’re a natural – so eager to please him too when you keep pushing and pushing, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

His muscles ripple above you while he lets out a long, drawn out groan, nails scratching your scalp. You feel him twitch inside you and that’s when he takes over, snapping his hips ruthlessly until you’re left gagging and sucking his cock helplessly.

Your saliva is dribbling at the edges of your mouth, looking so fucked out and whore-like while he pushes himself to the edge. He doesn’t care that you’re choking and your eyes are zooming out of focus from not being able to breathe. He doesn’t care that you could die from asphyxiation, he doesn’t care because you’re his sacrifice – if you can’t even do this simple thing, then how else could you prove you’re worthy to live?

You know this too because you force yourself to breathe through your nose instead, wanting to show that you are worthy, that you can please and take him however he pleases you to.

Naoya isn’t stupid, he can see what you’re doing and can read your mind even in his lust-driven state. Nothing edges him more than a good, submissive whore. Now that he knows you’re willing to do anything without complaints, Naoya pulls his cock out just seconds away from orgasm, pushing you back into the mat with a grunt.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he hisses and pushes both your legs to the side, your body bent and pussy left open for him.

Naoya groans as he slides himself inside you. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but your virgin cunt is still too tight and new to this that you scream around him, subconsciously clenching around him harder.

“You’d do anything for me, yeah?” he challenges, cupping your face while he rams into you hard, uncaring that your walls are beyond abused and a ring of blood is already coating his cock. This isn’t the first time he’s taken someone’s purity, but this is the first time he’s had someone look gratified that he’s hurting them, fuelling him to fuck harder into you despite the steady stream of tears down your face. “Look at you – so obedient,” he pinches your nipples and rolls them between fingers, growling at the way your pained moan sounds more like an encouragement for him to go harder. “You want to please me so bad you don’t care I’m hurting you? Are you so eager to worship me that you won’t even stop me?”

“N-no, my lord,” you manage through the pain, regulating your breathing as you completely break down in tears. Naoya is hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your insides feel like they’re about to burst, and he takes note of this, pinching your clit just to get you to clamp down on him. “Please – use me however you want – please.”

Naoya smirks, pressing your knees flat on the ground before he hovers above you, forearms planted beside your head. At any other given moment, he prefers to fuck his sacrifices with their face planted on the ground because he can’t bear to see how disgusting they are, but you – you’re so damn beautiful it puts his fellow gods to shame.

Now yours is a face he’d like to keep looking at, so he roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them with his fingers, kissing your puckered lips and nipping at them.

You taste heavenly too; his servants did a good job of choosing honey as a gloss. Naoya greedily licks your lips until he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth the same way his dick is ramming inside your walls, tight, puffy lips wrapped happily around his base.

You’re moaning inside his mouth as he squeezes your breast painfully. Never in your whole life have you thought that pain would feel so good, enticing you to moan louder when the sting finally subsides, replaced with the mind-numbing sensation of his thick length rubbing against every ridge of your walls. Naoya pulls his face away from you, his cum and your saliva sticky on your face and he chuckles, the sound stuttered and breathy, brows drawn together.

He looks down to watch the way you accommodate him; this is by far the tightest and wettest cunt he’s ever fucked – ever will fuck – that he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with any random whore’s pussy anymore.

Naoya frowns as anger bubbles up inside him, hatred making his cock swell inside you because how dare you make him wish he won’t take anyone again.

He wants more – want to kill more people, want to fuck more virgins, want to have more blood showering his skin until he’s bathed in glory and gore, but even though you’re the one he’s destroying, he’s slipping on the edge, too lost and hypnotized at the way your tight walls suck him in. Your moans don’t help either; they’re breathy and whiny, so defeated yet so eager to have more that Naoya grips your hips tight enough he might’ve cracked a femur from his godly strength.

Your scream this time is that of pain and loss, grappling on the sheets while white bursts through your eyes. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you overwhelmingly and you fall limp to the sheets, your translucent cum soaking his cock along with the previous blood, but Naoya doesn’t stop.

He keeps slamming into you until you’re mute from oversensitivity, hands cold with sweat and eyes empty while he uses you as his own fuck toy.

He gets there eventually, the room painted with his groans followed by a feral snarl, the rhythm of his thrusts turning sloppy and unbalanced. Naoya stills inside you after burying himself to the hilt, his crotch angrily rubbing at your pelvic bone as he cums. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed spilling inside you in thick spurts. Naoya pulls out with a slight wince, scoffing at the mess you’ve made on his precious dick, but he’s forced to soften a little when he sees both your cum spilling out your hole in a messy puddle, the liquid coating your ass.

Meek as always, you don’t move a muscle when Naoya spreads your legs open, inching his face close enough to watch the way your pussy stutters and legs tremble in front of him.

You’re absolutely ruined – the puffy lips spread out and hole still pushing out the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t bother pushing them back in, uncaring if he’ll get you pregnant or not because it’s not like matters to him. You are nothing but another body to fuck and dispose of under the river once he’s satisfied with you, but he surprises both you and him when Naoya suddenly pushes two fingers inside of you, his eyes dark as he insists on keeping his seed right where they should be nurtured.

Now that he’s sure that will make your belly grow and provide him with a half-mortal heir, Naoya retrieves his robes and walks out the room, the slamming of the door shut similar to an impending doom of an imminent death.

But not yours.

You’ve fulfilled your duty as the death curse bearer of your clan; the greatest and most formidable weapon they’ve been carving to perfection the moment you’re born. The cracks in your bones and bruises on your body immediately heal as you turn to your side, chanting under your breath a hushed whisper of the words of your ancestors who’ve perfectly planned the death of the Zen’in God who’s made his people suffer for thousands of years.

They would be proud of you.

And as a body crashes outside the door followed by the frantic screams of his confused servants, you smile to yourself, falling into a deep sleep upon using your true gift.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya x reader smut #naoya zenin x reader smut #naoya imagines #naoya x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #naoya x you #naoya x you smut #suki: 500 milestone event #i think this is kinda darkkkk?

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dccomicsimagines · 3 years

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A Long Day - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can you make a oneshot or hc on Arkhamverse!Jay where he comes home real beat up and tired and hurt so (wife)reader has give him a bath or else there'll be blood everywhere and just like 2 cups of fluff and a dash of angst? (Also, not NSFW)ak

***

His entire body felt like an open wound with salt rubbed into it for good measure. A deep, primal groan came from deep in his chest as he heaved himself through the window of the apartment and crashed onto the floor. Soft thumps came from the ceiling. Jason sighed. The upstairs neighbors were at it again. Like rabbits. He rolled over to glare up at the ceiling.

"Jason." An angel appeared in his vision, looking down at him. Their brow furrowed. "Are you alright?" The angel disappeared and Jason heard the window shut tightly. The lock he installed clicked firmly.

"Just a little...sore." He pulled down his hood and took off his helmet. His stomach twisted at the thought of showing his face, but he forced himself to relax. The feeling never went away, no matter how many years had passed.

"Yes, this looks like a little." You appeared over him again. That little smile pulled at your lips. Jason's heart skipped a beat. How did he deserve someone like you? "You got blood on the carpet again."

Jason moaned, pushing himself to sit up. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'll clean it up." He shrugged off his leather jacket. You kneeled down to help him wiggle out of the arms.

You hummed. "I think a bath is an order. You're not going into our bed like this." Jason undid his belt and handed you his guns. You checked the safety and moved to put them away. "Can you get to the bathroom on your own? I'll prep the bath."

"I'll be fine." He stripped where he was to avoid getting dirt, blood, and grime everywhere else. In only his boxers, he picked up his suit and took it the bathroom. He froze at the sight of you kneeling beside the bathtub. Your hand was in the water, testing it.

You turned to look at him. "Jay? You okay?" The love in your eyes hit him like a ton of bricks. How could he still be so surprised? It's been years. The J burned into his cheek stun like it always did when he remembered it was there. How could you love him when he was a messed up, tortured man?

"Fine." He dropped his suit and jacket on the floor before he covered himself up with them. Part of him wanted to hide his scars from you. The shame was still there, even with the reassurance you had already seen every scar he had. You nodded, adding bubbles and salts to the water.

"I have to say. I'm relieved to see most of the blood isn't yours." You eyed him. "You busted your knuckles again, huh?" You got to your feet and grabbed the first aid kit. "May I?" You held out your hand carefully.

Jason blinked, confused. He realized he had been staring at you the entire time. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. I knew I married you for some reason."

Your laughter was music to his ears. "I knew it." You winked at him before you tended to his knuckles.

He flinched, hissing when you dapped the cut on his knuckle with alcohol. "I'm surprised you are still awake. I thought you would have went to bed."

"It's hard to sleep knowing about...well...you know." You bit your lip, not meeting his eye.

"(Y/N), you don't have to worry. It won't get bad this time. I have it covered." He pulled his hand away from you and hugged you. "There won't be another gang war. I'm stopping it."

"Jay, I know you're working on it, but you're only one person." You rested your cheek against his bare shoulder.

"One incredibly awesome person." Jason tightened his arms around you. "We'll be fine. Gotham will be fine." His eyes widened as tub was almost full. He jumped away from you to turn off the water.

You flinched at his sudden movement. "Oh." You laughed in relief. "I thought it was another rat."

“Another rat?” Jason blinked. “Did you find another one?”

“No, but when you see one, you kinda expect another.” You shivered. “Maybe the landlord actually took care of it?”

“Not likely. I’ll have another talk with him.” Jason slid off his boxers and climbed into the bath. The water was so warm, melting the soreness from his muscles like wax from a candle.

You smiled at the sight, picking up his suit. “I’ll rinse this off. Are you hungry? I can make you something quick.”

“Anything is fine, sweetheart.” Jason closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He heard you leave. The walls of the apartment were thin. If he listened carefully, he could follow your movements throughout.

Another series of thumps came from the ceiling. Jason opened his eyes at glare up at it. “I should get us a new place, a better place without rats or noisy neighbors,” he mumbled to himself.

He started to wash himself, wincing as his muscles complained at having to move. Just when he dunked his head under the water to wash his hair, you came in with a freshly made omelet and a glass of milk.

“That smells delicious,” Jason said, sniffing the air once he surfaced. You laughed, kneeling down by the side of the tub. You wet your hands and shampooed his hair for him.

“I need to go shopping soon. We’re almost out of everything.” You kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes, relaxing completely in your hands.

Jason moaned. “I’ll go with you.”

“Of course you will.” Your hands pulled away. “Dunk again.” Jason went under the water and rinsed out his hair. He surfaced with a gasp and happily took the plate when you offered it to him. “Eat up. I have your suit hanging to dry in the kitchen. Don’t worry. It’s out of view of the window.”

Jason hummed, inhaling down the omelet like it was the only food he saw in months. It reminded him the first meal he had after he had escaped from the Joker. He had sat down in a diner, using the twenty bucks he stole to pay for a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. It was the best food he ever remembered having until you cooked for him that is. “Good. Don’t want the neighbors to have a show.”

You sat on the edge of the tub, watching him eat with a smile. Jason met your eye. He smirked before offering you a bite. You shook your head. “I’m good, honey. You eat.”

“Are you sure?” Jason waved the bite in your face. He winked at you. “Come on.”

You sighed and opened your mouth to let him feed you. The two of you finished off the omelet, enjoying each other in silent company. After the plate was empty and Jason had downed the glass of milk, you left with the dishes.

The water was getting cold. Jason sighed, stretching his arms until they cracked and slowly got out of the bath. He unplugged the tub and wrapped himself up in the pink towel. Why did he let you buy pink towels? Jason chuckled. Right, it was because they were on sale.

You were in the bedroom when he entered. Jason’s skin tingled as he watched you change into the pajamas he had bought you for your birthday last year. He enjoyed the sight, but his body was too tired to do anything about it.

“I love you.” Jason came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist to press his chest against your back. You laughed sweetly, music to his ears.

“I love you too.” You turned your head to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Are you ready for bed?”

Jason smiled, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Only if you are.”

You hummed, giggling before you pulled away. “You’re not though, unless you want to sleep with only the towel around your waist tonight.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Jason closed his eyes. “Are you okay with it?”

“I suppose.” You took his hand, leading him over to the bed and tucked him in. Jason sighed deeply. You crawled in next to him and curled into his side.

Jason felt all his stress and pain fade away as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. “I love you.” He chuckled. “I think I should take you on vacation. We haven’t taken one since we eloped.”

You hummed. Your eyes were closed, your body going limp. “Whatever you want, Jay.” Your hand moved to rest on his chest, just over his heart. Jason smiled and closed his eyes.

The sounds of the city were quiet for this time of night. He couldn’t imagine sleeping without it, just like he couldn’t imagine sleeping without you. The nightmares he used to get haven’t caught up to him in years. You chased them away. Jason opened his eyes to look at you. “You make my life better. You make me better.” He kissed the top of your head gently.

“Me too.” You mumbled, flinging your leg over his hips. “Go to sleep, Jay.”

Jason sighed. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #arkham knight #arkham knight imagine #arkham knight x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Make Me! AU

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Kind of want this adventure to be over.

Bruce Banner x Daughter!reader

Summary: You have finally found your father...just not the way you expected. You sort out your feelings and have some realizations about people in your life.

You felt sick.

You couldn’t believe it. There he was. Your father, the man who has been missing for four years.

He was here, being forced to slaughter people as a gladiator on a whole different planet.

So many questions were running through your mind. How did he get here? Why hasn’t he escaped? How long has he been the Hulk?

You watch as Thor attempts to talk to him, but... it was almost like Hulk...like the attention. You watch in horror as Hulk charged at Thor. Throwing him into the wall. Both you and Loki looked at each other in concern, then glance at the Grandmaster who watched in glee.

You felt dizzy as you watched you father pummel his teammate. It was like he didn’t recognize him. He fought viscously. You cringed when you saw him slam Thor on the floor.

“YES!” Loki shouts, startling you and the Grandmaster, “THATS HOW IT FEELS!”

You both stare at him, alarmed at the sudden outburst.

“I’m just a big fan of the sport...” He chuckles awkwardly.

He sits back down and looks at you. Concerned as you looked grey, like you were going to be sick.

He strokes your back comfortly, “ Y/n, if you need to step out...”

“I can’t...I have to stay...” You whisper, watching Thor get beat by the Hulk. You prayed that he would get up. Then it happened.

A bolt of lighting shot the Hulk off of Thor. Then he rises, lighting engulfing his hands. The two charge at each other, and Thor starts to gain the upper hand. You breath a sigh of relief. The audience eats it up. Chanting “Thunder”, but the Grandmaster does not seem happy. Just as Thor was about to finish the fight, he was stunned by something, leaving him motionless on the ground.

You freeze, watching as your father leaped into the air and came down, smashing Thor into the ground and knocking him out. Finishing the match. You turn to see the Grandmaster lean back in pleasure.

“So, how do you like it?” He asks casually.

You can barely speak. Too shook up to even form a thought. Seeing your unease Loki spoke for you.

“It was very intense. A very entertaining fight indeed.” He says with a smile.

“What’s wrong with the kid?” the Grandmaster asks taking in your pale face. “ She does not look good.”

“Yes! Well, um, it seems as though she has eaten something that made her sick. Perhaps it was the jar jar fruit”

“Oh no,” The Grandmaster states, “This is terrible.”

“Yes well--”

“I had a whole bowl!”

“Yes...I’d better take her to her room. Rest shall do her some good.”

Then Loki rises and helps you to your feet. He leads you through the crowds of people.

You can barely walk. You don’t know why you’re reacting like this. You knew your father was here.

Maybe it was because of how gruesome this fight could have been. Or maybe because you knew that for four years, your dad has been trapped as the Hulk, murdering aliens as a gladiator for some old lunatic. And it seemed like he liked it.

Your legs grow weak and you nearly topple to the ground.

“Woah, easy.” Loki says, “ Darling, take it slow.”

“I- I think I’m going to throw up” And then you lean over, throwing up into a plant.

“Ew.” Loki says, watching you defile that poor plant.

You wipe your mouth and try to stand, you sway a but, almost falling to the ground. Loki then sighs and scoops you up.

Your face burns, “ I’m sorry...”

“Shut up. I shouldn’t have made you go anyways.”

You stay silent. Resting your head on his chest as he walks you to your room.

“You know...my dad never did this...” You whisper. Loki looks down at you in confusion.

“Did what?”

“ Carry me to my room. Especially if I was sick.”

“Oh..” Loki says, not really knowing how to respond.

“My mom was the one who did all that. But then...she got sick and...” You trail off. It was rare when you thought about your mom. It hurt to remember all the good times the three of you had, so like your father, you pushed it all down.

“My mother did that too..” Loki muttered. He walked into your room and set you on the bed.

“Get changed and lay down. I shall be back in a moment.” Then he walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You change clothes and ay down. Trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

Your father was here. You found him.

But he was the Hulk and basically a gladiator.

He’s been here for four years. Killing people for sport.

“God, I may have seen some weird shit living with the Avengers but this really takes the cake”, You think to yourself, shifting under the covers. You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments you heard the door open. It was Loki holding a tray of food.

“Here, this should make you feel better.” He says placing the tray in your lap. It consisted of a plate of some kind of soup, some cracker like snack, and a glass of water.

“I know it looks heavy, but it made me feel better when I was a child and ill. Although, the one made by the cooks back home may have tasted better.” Loki rambles, “I do think I did pretty well, considering the circumstances.”

Seeing this side of Loki was shocking. Sure, you both had your moments and you knew he cared about you, but you thought it was more like a forced partnership. But, he could have left you here alone and he didn’t. He went out of way to make you something so you’d feel better. You can feel your eyes water.

And for the first time since you’ve been on Sakaar, you cried. You cried because you haven’t seen your father for four years. You cried because you were on a completely different planet, millions of light years away from your home. You cried because Loki was being so kind.

You cried cause you were scared. You felt like you were in over your head, like you can’t do anything but wait. You have no idea what you’re going to do from here on out and it terrifies you.

Then you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. You look up to see sad green eyes. Then you’re pulled into a hug.

“I know.” Loki says softly, “It is overwhelming, and you’re still a child.”

You take a deep breath, taking in the scent of leather and something sweet. You then closed your eyes sinking into the embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In another part of the castle, Thor had just woken up. Scaring the crap out of the women who were tending to his wounds.

He painfully stands up, looking around the room he was in. It wasn’t like the first cell he was in. No, this one was actually clean. It didn’t smell like body fluids or...death. It was red and white, with weapons and armor laying around. He can see a large bed and a hot tub in the room.

Thor looks out the window, taking in the scenery and trying to figure out a way to escape. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a splash. He turns to see the Hulk in the tub, sitting in the shadows.

“...Are we cool?” He asks, holding his hands up in surrender.

He doesn’t get a response, just a low growl. But he isn’t attacked so Thor takes it as a a sign. He goes to the window again and mutters to himself, “Huh, a Hulk in a hot tub.”

Then he turns to Hulk, “ How long have you been like that?

“Like what?” Hulk grunts

“Like this. Big, green, and...stupid”

Hulk sits up slightly, half of his face in the shadows, “Hulk always Hulk.”

Thor doesn’t respond, opting to look out the window again, then he realizes,

“How’d you get here?”

“Winning” Hulk says proudly.

Thor rolls his eyes, “ Do you mean cheating? Did they have one of these shocky things on their necks? I meant, how did you arrive here.”

Hulk imitates a whooshing and crashing noise, “Quinjet.”

Thor gets excited, “ Yes! Okay and where is the quinjet now?”

Hulk doesn’t respond, instead he gets out of the tub. The only problem is that he didn’t have a towel...or anything to cover himself. Giving Thor a good look at his goods.

“That’s naked...very naked” Thor says cringing. “ That’s in my brain now.”

“Quinjet.” Hulk says, pointing to where the plane is. Uncaring about the state of undress he was in.

Thor gets excited again, “Yes! I can get us home, off of this awful planet. You’ll love Asgard! It’s like earth but gold”

“Hulk stays.” Hulk grunts, taking a bit out of some fruit.

“What? No no no, I need your help to prevent Ragnarok.” Thor says desperately.

“Ragnarok?” Hulk questions uncaringly.

“Yes, its the destruction of my home planet, the end of times.”

“Thor go. Hulk stay.” Hulk says stubbornly.

Thor is desperate. He needs to get home before Hela completely destroys everything he holds dear.

‘Look, I’ll tell you what, you help be get to Asgard, and I’ll help you get back to earth.’

“ Earth hate Hulk.”

“What?” Thor exclaims, “ Everyone loves Hulk! You’re part of the team, you’re our friend!”

“Banner’s friend.” Hulk grunts, not believing a word Thor is saying.

“WHat? I don’t even prefer Banner” Thor says awkwardly, “ He’s all ‘ NUmbErs aND SCienCe’ and stuff.”

“Banners friend!” Hulk exclaims.

By now Thor is frustrated, “Fine. You stay here on this awful planet. Besides this room his hideous. The red and white, like just pick a color.”

“Smash you.” Hulk grunts

“You didn’t smash me, I won that fight.”

“Smash you!” Hulk throws the fruit at Thor.

Thor dodges it calling Hulk a baby. He heads toward the entrance that is left open.

“Thor go!” Hulk shouts.

“I am going!” Thor shouts back, but before he can step out of the room he’s shocked. The obedience puck stunning him

As he falls to the ground, he can hear Hulk laugh.

“Thor no go. Thor home.”

He sighs, looking out the window. He briefly hears Hulk say something about training. Then he sees her. The woman who got him into this mess in the first place.

She pays no mind to him, instead greeting Hulk like they were long time friends.

They go train, leaving Thor alone with his thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in the dark room. It seems that Loki has left as you were alone. Your eyes sore from crying, you look around for your bag. You find it, pulling out your phone, earbuds, and journal.

You write your feelings as you listen to music.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to go find your father and Thor, but another part trusts Loki and wants to stay. It doesn’t help that he has been the most fatherly figure you’ve had in a while.

Sure you had the Avengers. You could even argue that Tony has filled that role of father figure since your dad went missing. But, you and Loki formed a tight bond in a few days that took months for you and Tony to form. You both got along well, bonding over distant fathers, dead mothers, and theater. Not to mention you both had a sarcastic attitude. If anything, he’s taken over a big brother role, but nevertheless; betraying his trust was one thing that you couldn’t do.

You sigh, knowing what you were going to do.

You were going to find your father.

So you get out of bed and change into your suit. You put your phone in your stuff in your bag and grab your weapons.

You walk down the hallways, not knowing where to begin to find your father. Then an idea hits you. If you can find out where Thor is, you’d most likely find out where your dad is. So with that in mind you decided to ask a guard.

“Excuse me.” You say to a red guard, “ Do you know where the …”Lord of Thunder” is staying? The Grandmaster allowed me to go and meet him. I am a big fan”

The guard hesitated, not knowing who you were. But since you dropped the Grandmasters name, he pointed you to the hallway Thor was supposedly in.

“Thank you!” You beamed, making sure to skip away as if you were a fan. You skip till you were out of sight and sigh, slowing down to a walk. You strolled down the hallways, throwing fake smiles at the guards you passed.

Finally, you reached a room at the end of the hallway. You notice a woman pass you and walk staright into the room. You hide behind a wall and listen to the conversation.

“Hey big guy!” She says, you notice that she has an accent similar to Thor’s.

“Angry girl!” another voice says...Your fathers voice. You can hear footsteps coming your way. You quickly pull out your phone and sit down, hoping they’ll walk right past you. You don’t need Hulk seeing you right now. If anything, he’d change back to Bruce and that’ll cause a whole bunch of problems.

Thankfully, they pay no mind to you. You watch as they joke around and nudge each other. It’s strange, seeing the Hulk to at ease with another person.

It kind of hurts, in the same way it hurt to see your dad with Natasha. It was like you couldn’t get close to either side of him. Or he chose not to get close to you.

Pushing away your feelings, you get back to the mission, finding Thor.

You head to the room at the end of the hallway. Surprisingly, there were no guards or even a door blocking your way. You can see Thor, standing by the window. His back was turned to you but he was completely still.

You walk through the door way, and look around the room. It was messy and kinda ugly. The red and white really didn’t clash well.

Then you were startled by Thor loudly gasping. You run up to where he was.

“Thor? Thor are you alright?”

He focuses on you, eyes widening at your presence.

“Y/n?” He says slowly, “ Y/n?! What are you doing here?”

“The Dr. Wizard said my dad was here. So I came looking for him...” You say slowly. “ Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” Thor laughs, “ Have...have you been here this whole time?”

“Yeah, I got here the same day Loki did, so about two weeks ago. Since then I--”

“Wait, have you been with Loki this whole time?” Thor asks.

“Yeah, he’s the reason I’m still alive to be honest.” You say, “ He helped me get in favor of the Grandmaster and he’s been looking out for me ever since.”

“Loki?” Thor says in disbelief, “ My brother, Loki? He has been taking care of you?”

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either...but he’s been so kind to me, Thor. Kinder than anyone has been in a while.” You say softly.

Thor smiled, he was glad that there was still a part of the Loki he knew growing up. That you were alright.

“You look awesome.” He says taking in your outfit, “Where did you get those clothes?!”

You laugh, “ It seems like the Grandmaster likes to give make overs.” You look at Thor, “ Dude they cut your hair?!”

“Yeah some creepy old man cut it off.” He says, suddenly he pulls you in for a hug. “ I am beyond glad to see you here.”

You blush and hug him back, “I’m glad you are okay.’

Then you frown, “ My...my dad...he’s here.”

Thor freezes, “ Oh Y/n I completely forgot..”

“It’s okay... he looks fine” You say bitterly, remembering how chummy he was with that girl.

“ He can’t know I am here.” You say quickly, “ If he does, he’ll change back and raise suspicion.”

“I need help to get out of here.” Thor says, “ Asgard is in danger.”

“Why don’t you just walk out the door?” You ask

“Because, this neck thingy shocks me whenever I try to leave.” Thor says showing you his neck.

“Ohh so that’s why you lost the fight,” You say realizing what happened.

“I dis not lose” Thor said, “Your father cheated.”

You snicker, “What ever you say Lord of Thunder.”

Thor sighs at the name, knowing that you weren’t going to stop calling him that.

“Y/n, I need you to help me get out.” Thor says desperately. You furrow your brow, thinking of a way to get him out of here.

“Okay...I have an idea.”

You spend the next thirty minutes comin up with an idea. Revising and editing ideas that’ll get him out of here unscathed.

That’s when you realized that you shouldn’t be here when Hulk gets back.

“I have to go.” You say quickly, gathering all your stuff.

“Wait, wait, how are you going to escape...” Thor says worriedly. “ Your father doesn’t even know your here.”

You sigh sadly, “ I doubt he cares. He seems pretty content here.”

“Y/n, that’s Hulk, not Banner. Your father loves you.”

You chuckle, “ You know, in last few weeks. Loki showed he cared about me more than my father has in all the years I’ve been alive.”

“Oh...that’s bad.” Thor says, because if you knew Loki cared about you and not your father...that was saying a lot.

“Good luck Thor, I better go before some guards show up.” You say, patting his arm and dashing off. And again, Thor was alone.

Running through the hallways, you bump into someone. You fall to the ground in a huff.

“Watch where you’re walking!”

“Sorry dude, jeez don’t get your undies in a twist.” You say, getting up from the ground. You look up to see the girl who was with the Hulk.

“Do..do I know you? You look familiar.” She says, closely looking at your face.

“Umm, I tell stories to the Grandmaster.” You say quickly, “I better go.”

Then you run off again, leaving a confused Valkyrie behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finally make it to your room. Panting as you close the door.

“Where have you been.”

You jump, not expecting anyone to be in your room.

“Relax, its just me.” Loki says, rolling his eyes, “ Now, where were you? I came back into your room, expecting to find you in bed, resting.”

“Sorry, I... I went to see Thor.” You say honestly.

“Y/n.” Loki starts, but you interrupt him.

“I know! I know I shouldn’t have gone, but I felt really bad and wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at your face, seeing your guilty eyes and frown. He’s demeanor softened, “ You are too kind for your own good.”

You chuckled, “Well, one of us has to have redeemable qualities.”

“Hey!” Loki shouts offended. You laugh at his face.

“I can get used to this” You think to yourself. You yawn, suddenly tired from all your activities.

“Get some rest.” Loki says, “You’ll need it’”

Then he leaves the room after ruffling your hair.

As you get ready for bed and finally lay down, you realize you can’t sleep.

You have a crushing feeling that something big was going to happen the next day.

#bruce banner x daughter!reader #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner imagine #loki x reader #loki x teen!reader #loki x poc!reader #thor odison x reader #thor ragnarok #Thor Odinson #thor ragnorak #poc reader #marvel x reader #marvel

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

if you’re still doing the ask game, I’d kill to see number five for either Jake, Jameson, or Jax. you know how I love my drug whump

I have so many prompts sitting in my inbox that are numbers to ask games that I can't remember what the prompts were... but I remember this one. This is as good a time as any...

CW: Pet whump, dehumanization, drugged whumpee, beating, described body/bones, brief emeto ref, restrained, sadistic whumper, collared, chained up

Direct Sequel to Deep Breath / I'm Ready. Part of the Jameson's Backstory mini-series.

"I have a system, dog. I have a method. I have a way these things are done."

Robert punctuates each sentence with another kick to his ribs, and the pet grunts with the impact, telling himself to let some of the pain bleed out into the man's boot. With his hands tied behind his back, a short rope linking them to his ankles, he's forced into an arch that leaves his most vulnerable places entirely unprotected.

Open.

On display.

Inviting the next blow.

At least whatever was forced down his throat dulls things a little bit. It's a mercy, he thinks, because Robert isn't done with him yet. The world roils and spins around him like the ocean on a stormy day. The pet is a white-capped wave when the next kick comes and something snaps inside him.

Watch it rain, a soft voice says somewhere inside him. A small hand grabs his own. Watch the rain fall, Johnny. Don't you love rain?

He whimpers, sweating into the blindfold, shivering reflexively as cool air hits the sheen of wet over his skin. He doesn't know who Johnny is.

"Please... please..." His pleading is weak, voice cracked and breaking.

But he just wanted to do the only thing he could to help the young man in the bathtub. He just wanted to help.

Now he's helpless.

Robert's boot, pulled back for the next kick, pauses at the sound. "What's that? You not enjoying this?" He exhales, letting out a thready laugh, before he drops into a crouch, running his hands over the pet's hair. Robert watches him flinch back, unable to see it coming. His thumb finds a spot rubbed bald by the straps of the muzzle and he runs over it, humming, finding the scarred places where the muzzle has cut in enough to make him bleed, over and over. The pad of his thumb is rough, calloused from his job. "You don't like taking your punishment, hm? Is that it?"

The pet holds as still as he can, panting, trying to push past the throbbing ache on his left side. Broken rib, maybe, or just bruised. He'll find out if it heals right or doesn't.

"Please-... please stop," He whispers.

That only gets him another laugh, meaner this time. "That boy had two more weeks of life left in him," Robert says, in a tone of perfect rationality. "I chose him special, and you got it in your head to ruin everything. I just don't see how I'm the bad guy here."

He sighs, and rips the blindfold off over the pet's head.

The pet looks up, struggling to focus, only to take a fist to the face as soon as he does. Knuckles crack into his jaw, but nothing breaks. It's a miracle he hasn't lost any teeth.

His head bounces off the floor, a flash of white behind his eyes. He hears a rough voice cry out in pain and realizes it's his own. The world, already a seasick cruise ship, bobs even more dangerously around him.

He's being blown around in circles, saltwater coming in too fast to bail out. He's going to be sick. He's going to throw up on the floor and drown.

Just like he drowned the man in the bathtub who begged him to do it, who said I'm ready, who held his hand, who struggled at the end and then stopped, and then-

And then...

The air had gone briefly cold after the man had stopped moving and the pet had felt a breeze through his hair, as if something in the man was leaving and moved past him on its way somewhere else.

He starts to cry, unwillingly.

His sobs comes out through gritted teeth, tears forced out of eyes he's closed as tightly as he can to try and keep them hidden. His body shakes.

"Two weeks you've robbed me of," Robert says, standing back up. He groans, and the pet can hear him moving around the room. He doesn't dare look up to watch him, not now. "Two weeks, and now it's all wrong. Now nothing happened the right way, it's all fucked up now. I have a system. I have a method, I have a routine, and you fucked it all up!"

The last words come out a deafening scream, and the pet cries out again, trying as hard as he can to duck his head and hunch his shoulders, wanting only to protect himself in whatever meager way he can. The sound of Robert's voice bounces around inside his fucked-up skull. The water is pulling him under now.

The waves lurch and break against him as Robert grabs him by the arms and drags him. Hog-tied, he can do little more than squirm as he's pulled back into the hallway, to the grimy bathroom.

The young man isn't in there anymore.

"I should kill you," Robert snaps, depositing him back on the cold tile, wet now with water splashed out from when Robert found what he had done and had dragged the body out, trying to revive it so he could hurt the young man more. "I should fucking kill you, you stupid dog. You ruined everything!"

The pet tips his head back until it touches the floor, looks up at Robert looming over him, all malevolence and rage. Beyond his fear, the pet finds a core of something that burns bright and hot, stronger than the smell from the basement. Something sharper than the knives he is cut with, something stronger than Robert's shouting or his fists.

The pet makes an expression that could be a smile or could be a snarl. It could be appeasement or bared fangs. His lip busted at some point and he feels blood on his teeth, tastes it on his tongue.

It makes him think of Nanda.

He lets the blood shift into his mouth, lets it pool on his tongue. Tastes the copper-salt, the hint of sweet. The taste of love, of Nanda's mouth, of his low voice, hands in his hair or on his hips.

Once he has enough, the pet spits blood into Robert's stupid fucking face.

"I hope the next one goddamn kills you first!"

Robert goes still, and silent. His eyes are ringed in white, like a horse about to bolt. Then his hand comes up to slowly wipe away the smear of pink-tinged saliva on his cheekbone running down to his jaw, marked with a five o'clock shadow.

"Fucking dogs don't know how to stop their bark," He mutters to himself. Whatever his plan in the bathroom had been, it's clearly not enough. He pulls the pet up, then lets him fall again. Stares around, eyes bouncing over the still-full tub, the ring of grime around the tub where the water still sits.

Then he just shakes his head. "No, no, no," He mumbles. "No no. Calm it, Bobby. Calm it. Think think think."

The pet stares up at him. His body holds more disgust in that moment than he ever thought possible.

Robert disappears back into the hallway, leaving the pet where he is. Outside the barred bathroom window there's a soft birdsong and the faint hint of sunlight. What time even is it? The pet never knows. The bathroom is the only window that isn't covered with heavy blackout drapes almost all the time.

He focuses on breathing, keeping things shallow to hold the pain in his ribs at bay as best he can. His wrists hurt from the ropes rubbing them raw, his muscles are pulled painfully taut and stretched.

Robert returns with the gag-muzzle, forcing the plastic bit between his teeth. His tongue pushes against it uselessly, working to try and make it comfortable even as his jaw already protests what it knows is coming. The straps slide over the bald spots, buckle into place. The pet shudders at the familiarity of the feeling and tries instinctively to jerk his head to the side.

Robert grabs him by the hair and forces his head back, giving a humorless rictus grin at the pained grunt forced from the pet's throat. "Oh, you don't like that, huh? Shoulda thought of that before you fucking ruined my system. My method. My routine."

You said that already, the pet thinks, but it occurs to him Robert probably doesn't remember that. He's never sure what Robert actually knows about his own words, how much sinks in to memory. He's always repeating things like it's the first time he's ever said them.

The rope between his wrists and ankles is cut and Robert pulls him up to his feet, shoving him forward. The drugs keep the pet struggling to hold himself upright, stumbling to one side or the other. He can still feel the waves - inside him, battering, trying to pull him back under the cold dark water.

He goes willingly enough, shuffling with his hobbled ankles, until Robert has him at the basement door.

The pet rears back in a sudden panicked realization, a muffled, unintelligible babbled plea coming out around the bit, behind the leather muzzle already making his skin pour sweat. He shakes his head wildly back and forth, tries to yank himself free.

Robert's laugh is wild and crazed this time as he shoves the pet forwards and it's either go down the stairs or fall.

The pet's foot finds cool smooth old wood that creaks and he whimpers, the smell flooding his nose making his stomach twist and turn. The next step. A third. A fourth.

The light is on in the basement, a single bare bulb shining a thin circle of light over the disturbed earth on one side. The other side is untouched except for some boxes and the chemical barrels, wreathed in dark shadows that let nothing escape.

"You like 'em so much, you can spend the night with 'em, huh? Just have a little sleepover with my friends here, hm? How's that sound? How that fucking sound?!"

The pet whines as Robert screams in his ear, shaking his head again and again as he is forced step by step down into the basement where they die, where he buries them. His bare feet touch down onto the earthen floor, coolly dry down here, chilly compared to the upstairs. The pet is shivering but it isn't really from the cold.

Goosebumps burst all over his arms and legs, a thrill of terror down his spine as Robert pulls him over to the shadowed corner where the boxes are. There's a hinged metal collar with a chain that attaches to the wall, and the pet realizes that Robert must use it when they're down here just before Robert throws him down on the ground and closes the metal with a snnnnkt over his leather collar, around his neck.

There's thigh bones, he thinks, in a pile over underneath the lightbulb. Just a bunch of fucking goddamn femurs, like Robert comes down here to play fucking barbie dolls with dead people, taking them apart and putting them back together.

Welcome to Malibu Barbie Dreamhouse, he thinks, and a manic horrified laugh bubbles up his throat. John Wayne Gacy edition.

A padlock is hooked through the front of the collar, cold metal slapping down against the top of the pet's collarbone. He looks up at Robert, who is right in front of the light bulb from his perspective, his face black and unreadable.

Please, he tries to say. I'm sorry. Please. All that comes out is muffled animal whines.

"You love them so fucking much, you can be best friends." Robert ruffles his hair. He grins, and the yellowy white of his teeth is all the pet can see of his face. "Enjoy your sleepover, dog."

He turns and leaves, ignoring the pleading whines of the pet as he climbs up the stairs, the creaking like a chorus, a harmony to the pet's cries for this to not be real.

The light seems to shimmer around its edges - it's just the drugs, he tells himself, it's just whatever was in those pills - and shift. Dead people could hide down here in the dark places, with their bony fingers reaching out to grab him.

He whimpers again, softer this time.

He manages to shuffle himself on his ass backwards until he hits the basement wall, smooth stone older than the house itself. His hands are still tied behind him and his ankles are still hobbled. Tears run from his eyes, drift along the edge of the muzzle, drip down from his jaw into the dirt. He sobs around the bit gag, whining until he can't remember if he even is human at all any longer.

Then he sees a face and gives a full-body shudder.

At first he thinks it's the drugs, but it's not. The young man who begged him for help, the reason he's down here at all, isn't buried yet. He's just lying on the ground under a worktable on the other side of the basement. His hands are still tied together in front of him, his soaking wet hair has begun to dry, frizzy and tangled.

Something about the face, though, gives him pause.

He's seen them dead before, their faces etched in horrified screaming, empty eyes wide and terrified. He's seen them trapped in their final agonies long after they're gone.

But the young man across the basement looks like he's gone to sleep there on the floor, that's all. His color's all wrong but the dim light keeps that from being too obvious.

He looks like he's sleeping.

He didn't die screaming under Robert's knife, or begging for it to stop as the blows kept raining down. He isn't tied to Robert's bed, he isn't anything like that at all.

The pet's fear is still in him, heart beating jackrabbit-fast against the inside of his chest, but he stares and stares at the young man's body and begins to understand that... he doesn't need to be afraid of them.

He doesn't need to be afraid.

He needs to be angry that they die like this, not afraid of them.

Anger is what keeps him breathing, what keeps him thinking, what keeps him alive.

He made Robert furious, but more importantly he took a victory from him, he took power from him. He took away control. He made it so Robert can't feel like he owns the young man in his death, like the body is his because he made it.

No.

As long as he isn't dead, that means he isn't out of time. As long as he keeps breathing, as long as he keeps thinking, as long as there are parts of him that Robert doesn't know, doesn't own, that he can't control.

As long as he stays angry.

As long as he has hope.

I'm going to get out of here, he promises the young man's body, the pile of bones, the rest of them under the soil. I'm going to escape. I'm going to do something, someday, when he gives me the chance.

I'm not like him.

I'm not like any of them.

I want to be like you, instead, but alive. I want to live.

I'm going to live.

For a second he smells water, he hears a voice he can't understand and tastes the young man's voice on his tongue, the taste of sage tea with milk.

The pet swallows and closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, holding the air, breathing out again. The air shifts around him, touches his face just above the muzzle.

In the perfectly still basement, a breeze shifts along his skin, rustles his hair just a little.

Something moving past him on its way to somewhere else.

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary @burtlederp

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thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

The Apology Bath

Summary | after being on the run, Bucky can't help but notice the difference in you. He intends to make it better.

Warning | (18+) suggestive content, DNI minors, implied smut, soft Bucky then a lil dominant Bucky

Paring | Bucky Barnes x female reader

Side note | I've had writer's block for the last three days but was finally able to pump something out so if it's terrible, I apologize 😩

"Honey.” The soft rasp of his voice whispers against the shell of your ear as the hot water stings your skin, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. It soothes your aching muscles, coaxing you into a deep haze of security.

With every passing second the worries start to disappear or the fact that you and Bucky have been on the run for days. Dangling on danger has left Bucky on edge, traveling for weeks at a time to ensure not only your safety but to give Sam some time to locate them and find out their end goal. For some reason they were after you.

You were in no way complaining, he's doing everything he can to keep you safe and alive but being on the run and between the four hotel rooms you would switch too the walls seemed to be inching closer and closer as time passes on. Any moment spent outside of the hotel room was in the car.. Bucky insisted you couldn't leave it, even when he pumped gas, he wouldn't risk it.

Bucky had not only noticed how suffocated you feel but incredibly bad that you were in this position. The only reason they want you is because Bucky provoked them in the first place.

He noticed the subtle changes like your behavior. Snappy and grouchy, more unlike yourself as the day goes on. You're distant, cold with every word you speak to him and he tried not to take it personally.

Bucky had reached out to a few people, finding a safehouse, somewhere to stay for the next couple of weeks. It's something you needed, a space to yourself, to enjoy a little calm in the storm.

He wanted to give you a few hours to yourself in the town just outside the safehouse but he couldn't risk it. Instead made you a home cooked meal and a warm bath filled with salts.

The fruity smell of cranberries and cinnamon from the candle he lit seconds ago while hanging a warm towel on the rack next to you. "Feel good, sweetheart?"

“Mmmm.” You mumble barely audible. The only thing you can seem to concentrate on is the flattening bubbles against your collarbones.

Strong, bare hands press to the base of your shoulder, fingers shaping into the grooved of your scapula as he uses them to press deep, round and circular motions against the nape of your neck.

A small moan of relief leaves your lips, eyes closing at the touch as he presses a peck to your shoulder.

The small kiss has your flashes fluttering open but the gruff, "Keep 'em closed, honey. Want you to relax."

Smooth lips follow the dip of your clavicle as he lifts himself from the floor as his tongue follow the thick coulmn of your neck. A pink tongue passes though his lips to lick a small bead of water from your skin which makes you huff with a smile.

The sounds of his clothing rustling and clicking and whirling of vibranium as he unzips his zipper makes you sigh, heart pounding in your ears as his finger drops into the water and touches the base of your stomach as his lips hang dangerously close to your own, almost touching, "Move up for me, sunshine."

The bath isn’t big but it leaves just enough room for him to slip in behind you, the water sways and falls from the tub at his weight but he doesn’t seem to care as his chest flushes against your back. Of course you had bathed together before but it was never like this, instead always rushed with the purpose of getting clean.

This was soothing, the way his hands rub both of your arms with slowl, delicate motions. His nose nuzzles the back of your neck, pressing a small kiss to it. It's intimate, every part of your body and soul spread open for his hands and lips. With one last kiss to the side of his jaw you lean back until the back of your head falls into his neck as his fingers continue their decent of tasting your skin, running over every bump and recarving every stretch marks he could manage to find.

“Pretty girl.” Even though your eyes are shut, it's hard to miss the smile, actually feel the press of the dimple against your cheek.

“Sit up.” His tone is sugary, smooth as fingers help by pressing against the small of your back. The sound of the shampoo bottle follows his hands in your hair, rubbing soft circles into your scalp.

It's instinctual, instantly stiffening as he presses a soothing kiss to your shoulder, "Relax for me, let me take care of you."

"Buck, you don't have to." A wave of guilt washes over you. For the last few days you have been anything but nice and of course, he returned it with love and sweetness.

“I want to.” Hot breath fans the back of your neck as he leans back into the wall as his fingers never stop their work.

Comfortable silence follows as his fingers gently rub the budding soap in your hair, he switches it up, pressing a little more pressure with his nails. He doesn't stop, as he pulls you closer into his chest.

“Mmmm.” It’s a moan, soft and low but flushes his cheeks, makes his face heat up as he tries to push the sinful thoughts that flood his mind. He tries to hide the way you affect him, fingers twitching to slip between your legs and fill you. The heavy thick line of his arousal twitches against your back as he pushes his lips just to receive the tiniest bit of friction. Soap suds smear across your face as he reaches over your shoulder, hand gently pointing your chin up to angle your head just enough for can press a slow, lingering kiss against your own.

“Do you feel better, sweet girl?"

The sweetness of the man behind you is unmatched, it makes your heart flutter in appreciation, squeezing inside your chest as you turn to the side and cup his cheek.

Dinner and a bath, it's been weeks since you've been able to enjoy either.

“Yes.” He breath catches in his throat as you press open mouth kisses against his neck, the mix of soap and water explodes against your tongue but you can't find yourself to care, only to turn yourself to face him. Thighs saddle his own as your tongue reaches out to taste the skin of his jaw and feel the smooth skin. "Thank you Bucky, for this."

"It's my fault you're in this situation, I'm sorry. You deserve everything in this world and more." He promises as you slip a hand behind his neck to draw him closer to close the space between your lips.

“Let me show you how much I appreciate you.” His breath hitches as a hand drops inbetween you, eyes dropping to watch.

His cock twitches in anticipation, head bobbing just above the surface of the suds, swollen and aching for you. "You don't have to - I want you to relax."

Kisses feather across his skin, until you reach his lips. "I want to, you're so good to me, Bucks."

He gasps against your mouth as your hand wraps around his cock with a slow, sensation stroke, the water acting as a lubricant as you easily glide across the skin. It's quiet, muttered under his breath like he's trying to hide it but you hear it, "That's it, honey."

His head falls back, hips thrusting into your hand as you pump him again, soap suds follow the trail you leave across his chest as you reach up the cup his jaw to pull him close for another kiss.

But now he's all teeth and snarls, bitting your bottom lip in-between the breaks he takes from absolutely melting against your lips. His hand fist your hair, tilting your head back to pull away and meet his daring eyes, clouded with lust.

"That's my good girl." He purrs so beautiful, the compliment making your head go hazy. Daring to look away, to watch his cock appear and disappear from your fist but his own yanks your back up to his dark gaze. "I said eyes on me."

"Yes, sir." The groan that echoed across the bathroom was beautiful and desperate but if you weren't in trouble before, you definitely are now.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes

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itcameuponamidnightqueer · 3 years

Text

beau wakes up calm.

it’s a feeling so pervasive that she’s almost unsettled by it. their lives aren’t calm right now, between eiselcross and vess de rogna and now these eyes that keep popping up all over her and caleb. any calm she feels is usually immediately overshadowed by guilt for feeling it.

but beau can’t find it in her to feel guilty right now, not when the tower is quiet and there is a large, warm arm thrown protectively over her stomach. not when beau can feel the tickle of hot air at the back of her neck as yasha breathes, steady and restful in a way she doesn’t get to be when she’s awake. beau considers learning magic just so she can stop time and give yasha all the rest she deserves.

for now, she slowly rolls onto her back, taking care not to jostle yasha or slip out from under her secure embrace. she rolls over and doesn’t open her eyes until she’s on her back, the mirror directly above her, waiting.

it’s a sex mirror. of course it’s that, because caleb said as much when he told her about it, and god, does she owe him a week’s worth of uninterrupted research or whatever nerdy thing he wants in return. it’s a sex mirror and she and yasha have checked that off their list already, at least for the first time. second, fourth, something--they have definitely checked that off their list for a quantifiable number of times, it’s just that beau doesn’t quite know the number.

it’s a sex mirror but it’s also not because it’s more, because beau opens her eyes and can see the two of them as they are now--wrapped together, heavy and sticky in the illusory sunlight, sheets draped carelessly across their legs. they look good together. it isn’t the first time beau’s thought that, and with any luck (and a lot of hard work), it won’t be the last. but this is the first time that beau’s had the chance to really sink into that feeling, to see the reality of it and commit it to memory.

beau takes her time looking, glances over her own familiar body and the way it melts against one she can’t wait to know better. she should be a little cold perhaps, given that the sheets don’t go any higher than her hips and she hasn’t been wearing clothes for a good couple of hours. but yasha is so very there, so wide and curled around her in a way that seeks comfort as much as gives it. she’s on her side, the parts of her that aren’t touching beau sprawled greedily across the expanse of the bed. beau could spend hours looking at this reflection of them, of yasha and the curve of her muscles; the way her skin actually seems to create a glare in the early morning light. it’s so bright normally, even brighter now for the nearness of beau. time is fleeting and the tower will disappear soon and so beau is greedy--she looks at the angle of yasha’s legs, the way she twitches her toes on the one foot that hangs over the edge of the bed. beau looks at yasha’s back, the slope and strength of it; she remembers how solid and warm it felt under her fingers just a few hours ago. beau has known how sturdy yasha is since they met--has lusted over it since then, to be honest--but to feel it within her grasp, to be pressed against it and to have it soften and yield at her touch…

beau would learn magic to give yasha the peace she needs. she would learn art to memorialize this moment and the way they look together.

she watches yasha sleep, clocks the way her nose is pressed into the crook of beau’s neck. she almost cries at the drape of yasha’s arm across her chest--a few inches down and she’d have a handful of boob. as it is, beau’s heart is beating a rhythm right into yasha’s palm.

beau turns her head away from yasha and clears her throat. “hey.” she clears it again when it becomes clear just how ragged it’s gotten. “dachsies, can you hear me? or do i have to yell.” she waits, straining to listen for the soft clink of a tiny bell or two. “frumpkin?” she tries again.

there is a faint ‘mrrp’ and the door to her bedroom opens slightly, just wide enough for a lithe fey cat to slip through. she can’t see frumpkin as he enters the room, but he’s there all of a sudden, jumping noiselessly and weightlessly on top of the bed.

he stares at her expectantly and beau wishes very much that caleb isn’t snooping, too.

frumpkin walks forward and sits next to her, the not-quite-fur of his tail swishing against her side. beau can’t help reaching out with the hand that isn’t trapped by yasha’s body and giving him a few scratches under his chin. he preens, closes his eyes tilts up to give her a better angle, and settles right back into his serious face when she pulls away.

“can you get the hot tub going again,” beau murmurs, “with some nice shampoos and shit? and maybe start working on a few dozen pancakes; i’m sure the others are gonna barge in here soon. make sure there’s a stack of spider ones for me and yash.”

frumpkin chirps again, butts his head against her chest as he jumps off the bed. beau reaches out to affectionately grab his tail, chuckling as it slips through her hands.

yasha is awake when beau turns back to look at her.

“hello,” yasha whispers. “good morning.” beau cuts her off with a kiss. “i love you.”

beau smiles at that, rolls over and presses herself firmly into yasha. she repositions yasha’s arm to wrap around her back, laughs when yasha drifts downward and squeezes her ass. beau kisses her again and again, slow and firm, catching any inch of lips or neck that she might have missed before. her hands roam without any destination, traipsing over the plane of yasha’s stomach, tickling at the dimples in her shoulders underneath which her wings sprout. beau knows how sensitive those spots are now, and she presses her fingers against them, syncs that up with another determined kiss. she doesn’t miss the way yasha’s tongue stutters against her own, the brief loss of contact she sacrifices to gasp, just a little.

yasha’s nails turn inwards and dig into beau’s hips, and beau returns the favor.

beau reaches upward and grips yasha’s chin, marveling at the fact that her thumb seems to fit perfectly over the line of black beneath yasha’s lip. she pulls away and tickles the skin there, can’t resist one more kiss, especially when it elicits that special, breathy kind of laugh from yasha.

she makes sure yasha’s eyes are open and looking at her before she speaks.

“i love you, too,” beau says, her voice deeper and hoarser than usual, even for the morning. “last night was...i won’t ever forget it, yash.”

“me either.”

“might have been the best night of my life.”

“not if i have anything to say about it,” yasha winks. “i wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“yeah,” beau sighs--breathes, really, and she falls a little more in love with the way yasha doesn’t turn her face away from what is definitely a bad case of morning breath. “we’ve still got some time before we have to, though. the dogs are setting up the hot tub right now.”

yasha laughs, deep and rumbly and beau feels it in her chest. “before all of you i never would have understood that sentence.”

“right?”

“mhm. it is--a very fun thing to think about.”

yasha gently lifts a strand of hair from beau’s face and tucks it behind her ear. beau watches the entire time, so entranced by the size and safety of yasha’s hands, so determined to follow their path with a kiss, that she misses yasha’s other hand coming up to rest behind her legs, and beau lets out a very uncool yelp as yasha lifts her from the bed.

yasha drags them across the mattress, stands and gets herself situated, and it isn’t until they’re halfway to the floating pad that beau clocks exactly how she’s being carried.

yasha’s arms are confident beneath her shoulders and legs, and beau has looped her arms around yasha’s neck instinctually, and tears start to well up in this moment of realization.

“yasha…”

yasha stops walking, leans down and kisses her, and it isn’t because they’re naked that beau is glad no one can see them right now.

beau flutters through her feelings and rests her head against yasha’s chest, silently, as they float gently down to the hot tub.

everything seems more muted in the daytime--the lionesses aren’t as imposing, the slides aren’t as tempting. but the steam and smells are just as inviting, and beau lets herself be carried into the water, settling into the warmth as yasha reaches for the soaps.

they both slip under the water; beau shakes her head and scratches at her scalp while she lingers, getting out the last of her restless energy. she pops back above the surface and drifts over to yasha, who has settled into the corner, her arms resting elegantly atop the stone edges. beau drops into yasha’s lap without a word, humming, content, as yasha’s arms slip back into the water and wrap around her body. yasha snakes her legs over the parts of beau that her arms can’t reach until beau is completely covered, completely enveloped in her love.

beau has always been attracted to women who could break her--big, strong women whose bigness and strength almost always equated to a good, long time in the bedroom. and yasha has that in spades--probably invented it--but it sure is fuckin’ something else to know that breaking is only half of it, that the flip side is that beau can be fully contained and sheltered in yasha’s arms. bigness is a comfort as much as it is a challenge. yasha uses her size to hold and cherish just as much as she uses it to fight.

beau sinks down so that her nose is just above the surface of the water, and tries her very best to pretend she isn’t crying. the effort is abandoned when she gets out of her head and realizes yasha is very carefully and very thoughtfully soaping up her hair with thick, gentle fingers.

beau sits up a bit and spits some water from her lips. “how come you’re so good at that?”

yasha takes a moment to think, tilts beau’s head back so she can rinse the shampoo out. “zuala and i didn’t have as much time together as i wanted,” she answers, “but we made sure to treasure every moment we were allowed.” she rubs her hands together, presumably spreading conditioner over them; beau can hear the slickness of it echo through the air. “i am able to follow a god because i had a wife once,” she says, quiet and matter-of-fact, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

god.

“well, fuck.” beau closes her eyes and tries to relax her shoulders as yasha’s hands knead through her hair again. “did you--i mean, i don’t want to overstep but--it was like this? all the time?”

yasha is quiet again, patient with her feelings and beau and the combination of the two. she slows her ministrations and rests her hands on the sides of beau’s face, her thumbs tickling at beau’s ears.

“the only similarity between the love i feel for zuala and the love i feel for you is that it is coming from me,” yasha finally says. “it was like this, yes--and it wasn’t like this at all. it was different because it was her. the whole world was different because it was her, you know?”

beau nods. “hope so,” she replies. “trying to, at least.”

yasha squeezes her cheeks, presses a kiss to the top of her soapy head. she gently pushes beau underwater and scrubs her hair clean with a little more force this time. beau lays back and watches, smiles as yasha scoops a hand underwater and brushes it over her lips.

beau sits back up feeling more refreshed and loved than she ever has in her whole life.

she swirls around to face yasha, lets the water guide her back to yasha’s lap. beau hooks her legs around yasha’s torso, lets the water hold her up as she drapes yasha’s hair over her shoulders.

“your braids could use a little touch-up,” she murmurs.

yasha, so sensitive and careful about her hair, simply nods and watches as beau lets it out, making tidy piles with the ties and ribbons on the ledge. yasha’s hair billows out once the last bunch is free; in the water, she looks beautiful and serene.

beau rests her hands on either side of yasha’s face, swipes her thumbs under yasha’s eyes as they kiss. “thank you,” she says, softly, “for loving me.”

yasha sighs and kisses her again. “you make it easy, beau. you don’t have to thank me.”

“i do,” beau insists. “for now, i do.”

she directs yasha away from the wall, takes her place in the shampoo corner. it’s a little different this time--beau can’t surround yasha quite as fully, and she has to wrap her legs around yasha and float to get a good angle to wash her hair. but yasha doesn’t complain, and she rests her arms on beau’s thighs and slides her hands over her legs, soothing and present. the water never cools off and the dogs are somewhere else, and for a few quiet moments, nothing in the world exists except this tub in this tower, hidden in a smelly, dirty tavern.

they’re clean and laughing in the kitchen by the time the rest of the party trickles in. beau can hear jester and veth speaking at cartoonishly loud volumes, announcing themselves just in case beau and yasha are doing anything worth being interrupted.

beau smiles, grabs a spider-less bite of pancake, and squeezes yasha’s hand.

“oh, here they are,” caduceus says as they file in. he takes a deep breath and smiles at the spread of food. “what a feast.”

he disappears, probably to make some tea, and beau looks at yasha for just a moment longer before the energy is too much to ignore.

she turns and almost bursts out laughing at the sight of everyone, lined up in front of the table, watching the two of them intently. veth’s eyes are as big as saucers and jester’s are shimmering, her hands clamped over her mouth. next to her, fjord is blushing and even caleb is sporting a smile, reluctant though it may look.

“hey,” beau says. she smiles casually and she means it.

“you’re so cute!!” jester shouts, flinging her hands away from her face. “oh my god, you guys, you have to tell me everything; i’m so happy for you even though we had to sleep in that super stinky room. please tell me it was worth it.”

beau laughs, winks as she tickles yasha’s hand. “totally worth it, jes,” she promises. she gets up from the table, kisses yasha’s knuckles as she does, and gestures for jester to take her seat. “talk to yasha for a sec, okay? i left you some spider-cakes.”

beau is too focused on grabbing caleb to notice the way jester scrunches her nose.

she doesn’t catch fjord’s eye as she leads caleb out of the room and she definitely doesn’t look anywhere near veth. she just drags her cranky wizard to a corner out of eyesight of any window in the kitchen and crosses her arms.

“if you’re about to tell me everything,” caleb says, “please don’t be offended when i say that i would be happier not to hear it.”

“what? no, gross. i mean, not gross-gross, but because--you, gross, right?” beau clears her throat, gently punches caleb’s shoulder to center herself. “i don’t...wanna tell you stuff. i just wanted to do this away from everyone else.”

caleb narrows his eyes. “do what?”

beau steps forward and hugs him. there’s no hesitation or coaching this time, just a strong press of her arms, and she stays there as long as it takes for him to hug back and mean it.

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “this was….very special to me.”

“of course,” caleb mutters. “you need only ask, beauregard.”

“yeah, you say that, but it’s like--i know it, now.” to her horror, beau sniffles.

“i am glad you had a good time.”

“the best.”

“you smell very nice. thank you for bathing before hugging me.”

“i got you, dude.”

“can you let go of me now?”

“yeah, sure.” beau steps back and gives him one last shoulder squeeze.

caleb nods and squeezes back. he snaps his fingers and frumpkin is there, leaping onto his shoulder as they walk back toward the kitchen,

#critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #this is??? soft and gay and so much???#idk you guys i had a lot of feelings and this is what happened #i'll post it on ao3 later but for now i must eat something #long post #tumblr fic #cr: regular nein

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Friends Don’t Lie Ch. 7, 8, and Epilogue

A/N: This is the end of the series now I hope u guys enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun to write :)

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: major character death

Based on: Stranger Things

Chapter 7

“Okay but before we get to the gate, we need to know where in the Upside Down he is.” Jake says then turns to you. “Can you do the radio thingy again?”

“That won’t tell me where he is.” you say. “I need to go to the bath.”

“The bath?” they all say.

After some explaining, Jake finally gets the jist.

“So what the hell is it?” Jay asks.

“It’s a sensory deprivation tank.”

“And why does she need that?” Heeseung says.

“Because it let’s her be alone with just her consciousness. I guess it’ll help her see more in the Void.” Jake explains.

“Well how do we get it to?” Sunghoon asks.

“We can’t,” Jake replies. “We have to make one.”

“Do we do it in an actual bath tub?” Niki asks.

“No,” Jake chuckles. “Heeseung do you still have that kiddie pool we used when we were babies.”

He nods.

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Jungwon puts duct tape over a pair of scuba goggles as the rest of the boys fill up the pool and steal the bags of salt the school keeps in case of a snow storm.

“Is this good?” he hands them to you and you nod.

“I’m gonna get these clothes wet.” you look down at your outfit that Jungwon took from Jooyoung’s closet.

“It’s fine, Heeseung brought some clothes you can change into later.”

You’re sitting together in a classroom and his knees are only an inch away from touching yours.

“You’re very brave, you know?” he says and you tilt your head. “Like way braver than any super hero.”

“Super hero?” you ask. “Didn’t Jake call me that once? Is that a mean name?”

“No no no,” he shakes her name. “It’s a compliment. A super hero is someone who can do things that other humans can’t, and they use their powers to save people. My favorite is Scarlet Witch.”

“Scarlet Witch.” you say and he nods.

“You’re way cooler than her though. We should give you a superhero name.”

“Like what?” you ask.

“Hmm,” he ponders for a moment and then his eyes light up. “How about Bird of the Night.”

“Why bird? Why night?” you frown. “Do I look like a bird?” you touch your face and he laughs.

“No no, you don’t. I chose bird because you remind me of an owl.” he says.

“An owl? Why?”

“Because owls are wise, and you know a lot of things,” he says. “And I chose night because we met at night.”

You nod, understanding his decision.

“What would your superhero name be?” you ask and he looks down.

“I don’t know, normal guy of the normal day.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that you’re not super?” you frown.

He looks at you. “I don’t have any powers like you do.”

“Yeah you do,” you say and he raises an eyebrow. “You made me laugh, remember? No one has done that before.”

He smiles and looks away.

“Your cheeks are doing that thing again-” you point and he stands up abruptly.

“We should go check up on the other guys.”

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Jungwon holds your hand for leverage as you step into the pool. You sit down in the warm water before pulling the goggles over your eyes.

You relax into the water and allow yourself to float peacefully.

You enter the part of your mind that you haven't visited in a while. It’s completely dark, and it goes on for miles and miles.

You approach a small wooden fort and read off the sign.

“Castle Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung scoots towards you.

“Can you go inside?” he asks frantically. “Is Sunoo there?”

You slowly pull away the white sheet, revealing a boy curled up in a ball and shivering from the cold.

“Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung gasps.

“Tell him- tell him I’m coming for him,” he says. “Tell him to stay put and that I’m coming.”

You kneel down next to Sunoo. He’s so pale and his lips are purple. His blond hair is stuck to his forehead and you gently push it away. His eyes open, but barely.

“You’re hyung, he’s coming for you.” you tell him.

“Heeseung hyung?” he croaks and it comes through the walkie talkie.

Heeseung’s heart twists. “I’m gonna find you Sunoo, just stay put. I- I love you so much.”

“He said that he’s gonna find you, and that he loves you.” you tell him.

“Hurry.” Sunoo whispers.

You begin to hear a low growling and just as you realize what’s happening, Sunoo and the castle begin to disintegrate into the air. You grab onto his hand.

“Sunoo no! Wait!” you cry. “Not yet not yet!”

But it’s too late. You’re alone again. In that deep dark abyss that you thought you left in the bad place. You can never leave it though, it’s a part of you.

You sit up and tug the goggles off your head.

“You okay?” Jungwon scrambles to grab your arm and you lean into him, shaken up from seeing Sunoo just disappear like that.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, not caring that you’re getting his shirt soaked.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that must’ve been scary, you did so good.”

You rest your forehead on his chest, already feeling tired.

“Here you should get out now.” Jungwon interrupts and grabs your hand.

He pulls you out of the pool and wraps a towel around your shoulders. He hands you a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

“Let’s go to the bathroom so you can change.” He takes your hand and leads you to the lockers.

He turns around as you peel wet clothes off your cold body.

“So what’d you see?” he asks quietly.

“I saw him… in his fort.” you reply. “He was curled up on the floor. So blue. So cold.”

You tug the gray crewneck over your head and pull the jeans up your legs.

“Is he… okay?”

“No,” you say. “He doesn’t have much time left.” you tap on his shoulder and he turns around.

Your hair is dripping and pooling wet patches on the sweatshirt.

“Your hair is still wet.” he says and you shrug.

He grabs the towel and places it over your head, scrunching around to soak the water up. He throws the towel onto a bench and then pulls you against him, chest to chest. He rests his cheek on your hair and rubs your back.

“What?” you ask oblivious to his affection.

He pulls away. “I figured you were cold. I was trying to share some body heat.”

“Body heat.” you say and he nods.

You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him. “I am cold.”

CHAPTER 8

A/N: There's a bit where Jungwon is thinking about how he wants to touch the reader. Please know that this isn’t sexual. I wanted to portray the overwhelming feeling of liking/loving someone so much that you just want to feel them all the time and be connected in a way that isn’t through words. This thought he has is endearing, not sexual.

“Well what do we do now?” Jake asks.

“We need to go to the Upside Down.” Heeseung says.

“How do even do that, we’ve been trying to figure that out forever.” Jay says.

“Okay well we know that the gate would create a lot of power right?” Sunghoon says. “Enough to disturb the electromagnetic field.” Jake nods. “So what if we…”

“Compass.” Jake says. “We need compasses.” he gets up and rushes out of the gym.

“Where are you going?” Niki calls out.

“Come with me!” Jake says and Niki dashes after him.

“So who’s gonna go?” Jungwon asks. “Someone needs to stay with El, she’s too tired.”

You shake your head. “I can go.”

He groans. “We’ve had this argument like three thousand times.

“Well she can be our weapon.” Sunghoon says.

“She’s human you know, not a machine gun.” Jungwon says.

“She’s been low on juice for a whole day now, what if she can’t help us.” Jay says.

“Why do you guys talk about me like I’m not here.” you rolls your eyes. “I can go, I promise.”

Jake and Niki come running into the gym with their hands and pockets full of compasses.

They throw them onto the floor.

“What the hell.” Heeseung sneers.

“Look at this.” Jake points at the arrow. “It’s pointing south.”

“What?” Sunghoon’s brows knit.

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, making north that way.” he points behind him. “But all of the compasses are pointing south.”

The group looks at him, confused.

“Remember, the gate is so powerful that it can manipulate the magnetic field. So whatever these compasses are pointing to is where the gate should be.” Jake explains.

“Ohhh,” the group vocalizes.

“Let’s go then.” Heeseung leaps to his feet and pulls his keys out of his pocket.

Jungwon helps you stand up and you link your arm around his as you walk to the car.

“Left,” Jake says. “Okay now keep going.”

Five minutes pass when Niki asks. “How are we gonna know when we get there?” And right on que, you all arrive at Hawkins National Laboratory. Jungwon feels your arm tense around his.

“The fuck is this place?” Niki asks, sitting on Jay’s lap.

“The lab, my dad told me it’s a government thing.” Jungwon says.

“We can’t go in there.” You whisper and Jungwon turns to you.

“Why not?”

“Bad place.” you say and he cocks his head.

“This is the bad place? This is where you come from?” he asks and you nod. “We’re probably gonna die if we go in then.”

“I don’t care, Sunoo’s in there, I need to find him.” Heeseung unlocks the door and you drop your head into your hands.

“No no no no no,” you mumble to yourself. Jungwon turns to you and grabs your hands as the boys quietly exit the car, snooping around the building gate.

“We have to go in, we don’t have any other choice.” he says.

“I don’t wanna go back. It’s too scary.” you whimper.

“I know, but we’ll be with you the whole time.” he tries to assure you. He hadn’t styled his hair today and it’s poking into his eyes. “Heeseung is tall, he can be our shield.”

You giggle.

“And once we save Sunoo and this is all over we can listen to my vinyls like I told you we would and I’ll tell my parents about you so that you won’t be a secret anymore and we can hang out all the time and- and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Snow Ball with me.” he says timidly.

“What’s the Snow Ball?” you ask.

“It’s this stupid dance we have at our school. I’ve only ever been to homecoming but I thought it’d be fun for us to go.” he explains, still bashful.

You touch his cheek and he looks at you. “You should tell me what this is. Is it some kind of condition?”

“Oh,” he looks away and giggles. “It just means that I’m… I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” you ask him.

Jungwon

He knows what he wants to say.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND COOL AND I NEVER THOUGHT I’D LIKE A GIRL UNTIL I MET YOU. I LOVE YOUR VOICE AND YOUR FACE AND EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU ALL THE TIME I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO TOUCH YOU AND HOLD YOU. I WANT TO SHOW YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW I THINK I LOVE YOU.”

But of course he doesn’t say that.

Instead he settles with a trembling “Because… I like you.”

You smile. “I like you too.”

His heart leaps but then he realizes that you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Who else do you like?”

“I like a lot of people.” you reply and he squints.

“Like who?”

“Mm, I like Jay and Jake and Sunghoon and Niki and Heeseung.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like you like that.”

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

“Uhmm,” he thinks for a second. “I like you in a different way. Like like like.”

You Sit there, confused.

“Can you close your eyes?” he asks and you giggle.

“Why?”

Your giggle makes him giggle. “Because I can’t do this when you’re looking at me.”

“Okay.” you close them.

He takes a deep breath. You can do it, don’t be a pussy, he thinks. He leans into you and plants a short kiss onto your cheek.

Your eyes fly open and you look so surprised and adorable he could die.

Then he leans in again and pecks you gently on the lips. His heart is basically sprinting now.

You smile and he does too. Your smile is intoxicating. He wants to fall into it.

He doesn’t even get a chance to speak because of the banging on the window.

Jungwon opens the door.

“Come on, we need help!” Niki ushers you two into the lab.

“How’d you guys even get in?!” Jungwon whisper yells and you two run after him.

“Heeseung hyung found a back door. We literally almost died.” Niki says. He opens the door. “Here, go go.”

You guys run through the hallway. There’s two men passed out on the floor. Looks like Heeseung's work, Jungwon thinks.

“Go down the stairs!” Niki orders, leading you to this underground dungeon.

“What the fuck,” Jungwon whispers as he lays his eyes on the casm on the wall, covered in these indescribable vines and drippings of green goop.

He sees Heeseung stepping into a yellow hazmat suit. You run towards him and Jungwon follows.

“Here,” Heeseung hands you and Jungwon each a suit.

Jungwon’s palms are sweaty from all the adrenaline. “O-okay.” He tugs the suit up.

There’s banging and shouting coming from the glass chamber.

“Hurry, they’re coming!” Heeseung rushes everyone as you all get suited up.

You don’t waste a minute walking through the cavity.

You hold onto Jungwon’s hand as you and the boys run through the dark and foggy scene, hoping to get far enough that the staff can’t get you.

The Upside Down is just as you imagined. It’s Hawkins, but everything is wrong. It feels like death.

“The castle is this way!” Heeseung points to the dense forest ahead.

You don’t have time to freak out and think about how you’re in an alternate universe. The only thing keeping you tied to reality is Jungwon’s hand in yours.

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You run through branches and leaves and eventually get to the fort.

Heeseung throws the curtain open to find Sunoo just as you saw him earlier, curled up and hopeless.

Heeseung drops to his knees and tries to shake him awake. The rest of the boys follow suit.

“Sunoo, Sunoo it’s me, it’s your hyung!” he yelps but Sunoo stays motionless.

“Sunoo? Sunoo man it’s us.” Jay says.

Jake takes his mask off and brings an ear to Sunoo’s face. “He isn’t breathing.”

“Fuck, oh my god-” Heeseung wails.

“It’s fine it’s fine,” Jake leans over Sunoo and holds two hands on his chest, “Just breathe into his mouth when I tell you to.”

Jake begins to pump on the boy’s chest as Heeseung rips his oxygen mask off. Your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens anxiously.

“Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, okay go!” Jake says and Heeseung blows air into Sunoo’s blue lips.

“Keep going.” Jake says but Sunoo doesn’t wake up. “Please Sunoo,” tears begin to drip down Heeseung’s face. “I love you so much, I need you. You’re all I have.”

You notice Jungwon beginning to hiccup and you lean into him.

“Come one man,” Jake says.

Heeseung breathes one more time into Sunoo’s mouth when he coughs.

“Sunoo?! Sunoo it’s me!” Heeseung says, delighted. The whole group leans forward to get a better look.

Sunoo’s eyes crack open. “Hyung?”

Heeseung pulls the boy into his arms, petting his hair and kissing his forehead. All of the boys bear hug him but he’s too weak to fully understand what’s going on.

You’re still embracing Sunoo when you hear a low growl.

“Wait,” you say as the boys continue to celebrate Sunoo’s survival. “Shut up!” you say louder. “I hear something.”

You slowly stand up try to locate the sound. Your heart drops into your stomach.

“The demogorgon, it’s here.” you can hear them all hold their breath. You take your mask off and unzip your suit before stepping out of it, you feel like it’ll hold you back.

Just as you’re about to walk out, the monster tears at the fort and it comes tumbling down.

You muster some strength and send the thing flying before walking towards it. You know what this will do to you, but it’s the only choice you have. Maybe you’re a fool too, just like Jungwon.

You hold a hand out and muster all of the strength you have left. And as the Demogorgan slowly starts to disintegrate into the dirt, so does your spirit. You drop to the ground.

Jungwon

He runs to you.

He can’t hear anything over the thought of you.

He cradles you in his arms. He can't even imagine you leaving him.

Your eyes are barely open and your fingers are already turning to ash.

“El no! No no no!” he holds you against him, desperate to keep you here. “What about the Snow Ball! What about- what about everything?”

You smile a small smile and his heart shatters like glass, the small fragments puncturing every one of his organs.

He tugs his mask off. “Please no, I-” he holds your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly one last time.

You wipe the tears off his cheeks with your thumb. And just like that, you’re gone. Like you never existed. Just more flecks of dust in this dust filled world.

Jungwon doesn’t realize that he’s being dragged to his feet. He feels deaf like the scenes in war movies where a bomb goes off and they can’t hear anything but ringing. He’s stuck in a haze. It’s like being drunk but being drunk off of acetone and arsenic, not alcohol.

Jooyoung’s arms are around him for the first time in years. There are tears streaming down her face and she’s saying things that Jungwon can’t understand. All he can see is the look on your face before you disappeared. He could tell that you were in pain but you were hiding it with a smile. He cries into Jooyoung's shoulder, wishing that it was yours instead.

EPILOGUE

The police got involved, and then the FBI, then the government, then the president. Jungwon and the boys were on the news at least fifty times.

Sunoo seems fine and things are back to normal. Except for you. Sometimes he’ll catch glances of someone who looks just like you and have to do a triple take. All the clothes you ever borrowed from him are in a box in his closet. Everything reminds him of you: the basement, his walkie talkie, his bed, his posters, the living room, anyone with the same colored hair or eyes as you, even his own face reminds him of you. Every time he looks in the mirror he remembers the places you touched him. His cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, his waist, his hands, his lips.

He went through a phase of being angry about what you did. He hooked up with as many girls as he could, trying to forget you. But all it did was make him feel dirty, and like he was betraying you.

“You have to move on eventually,” Jay said.

But he didn’t think he could.

Know one could compare to you. No matter how smart or how popular or how cool, you were always better.

Jungwon’s washing his face when the light flickers. Then again, and again, and again in a peculiar pattern. He tries to remember the morse code he learned when he was in boy scouts. He stands there, trying to calm his heart as he translates the lights. I, M, I, S, S, Y, O, U.

I miss you.

taglist: @shawkneecaps @wonwoosh @strwberrydinosaur @ferxanda

#enhypen angst #Jungwon angst #enhypen fluff #Jungwon fluff #Jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 4 years

Text

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Part 2

Not sure if that name is going to stick but it’s what I’ve got for now. Also thank you so much? The reactions I got for part one literally made me want to cry. I’ve never posted my writings because I didn’t think that I would get any kind of response. When we hit 7 notes in the first hour I was beyond ecstatic and I thought that that would be it. But 150 notes later and I couldn’t wait to post part 2. Let me know what y’all think of this. I don’t know if I will get a part 3 out as quickly but I do plan to work on it.

Click here for full list of other parts. Part 3

Slow burn, no smut in this part but maybe a spicy moment.

Taglist: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac

Word Count: Just over 3 k

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Dabi had left you alone for long enough to go get food that you had already scoured his entire room, searching for any way to escape. You had learned that even though the window looked like it could open at some point, it had been sealed shut somehow and you didn’t have the strength to open it. Other than the window, there were two doors in the room. One leading to a small bathroom complete with a tub/shower combo, the other being the door that lead out of the room but was unfortunately locked when Dabi left.

As for the room itself, all it held was a queen sized bed, well really it was a mattress on top of a box spring, with holes in the blankets and sheets that looked like burn marks and a singular pillow that looked like he had owned it for years it was so flat. A dresser that was scarce in the amount of clothing it had in it, seemingly like majority of it was dirty in the corner on the floor next to but not in the torn up laundry hamper, almost all of it black or a shade resembling. The black chair that sat in the opposite corner of the bed that again looked like it had seen better days. Oh and a cigarette tray that was filled to the brim and a fan that was perched on top of his dresser pointing towards the bed. That was about it. The walls were bare other than scorch marks and burns here and there, the blinds were dusty, and the wooden floor was cold and scratched like it had been well worn for several years, burn marks from stray cigarettes being put out.

The Omega in you hated it, they wanted to start cleaning and organizing to find warm cozy things to build a comfort nest out of. The rational part of you saw it as what it was, a hideout for a villain. Not a place to get comfy in. Still you couldn’t sit here and wait. It was driving you nuts.

You had just finished picking up the discarded cigarettes on the floor into a nice neat pile on his dresser and was moving towards putting his dirty laundry into the hamper when Dabi returned. Cautiously opening the door to see what you were doing, he slipped in before shutting it and locking it behind him, takeout food in his hands.

“Look at you, being a perfect little housewife.” The smirk that was ever present on his face was bigger than normal and you immediately dropped the t-shirt that you had been staring at, turning and looking at him, your cheeks heating up at being caught.

He glanced at the bloodied shirt on the floor that was covered in soot and burn marks like the rest of his clothes and he shrugged, placing the food down on the counter before turning to you.

“Part of the job babe.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and pulling in on your self again. You couldn’t help the fact that your omega blushed at the nickname. You had never been spoken to like that. Ever. Even given the context you couldn’t help but squirm.

The smell of food made you take a step towards him though. You were starving and looking at what he had brought had your mouth watering. He had two different ramen bowls and a rice bowl to go with it. It looked like heaven. Not to mention a whole bag of other snacks to eat as well. You grabbed a water bottle from the bag, forgetting just how thirsty you were as you quickly drank almost half of the bottle in one swoop, hungrily looking between all the food.

“Take your pick princess, I’ll eat whatever you don’t want.” He gave you space to choose through everything, electing to drop back into his chair on the other side of the room, picking up the shirt you had dropped and tossing it into the hamper like he had just learned a new trick.

You quickly choose your preferred out of the options of ramen, leaving the snack bag alone for later. You might need it. Choosing to sit on the floor, against the bed rather than the bed itself so that you had a sturdy surface to put your food, you internally thanked yourself for picking up all the cigarettes.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to look up as you quietly ate the food. It was a couple minutes before he got up and grabbed his own food, choosing instead to sit on the floor next to you than to return to his chair. His legs spread out in front of him, showing you just how long they were, how much bigger than you he was. Your mouth was watering from not just the food anymore, his scent enveloping you from being this close. You briefly thought that he was probably pumping it out more just to get a reaction from you, but you refused to show it. You weren’t going to play this alpha’s game. You just needed to keep a level head until you could escape. You were just going to ignore him, just enough to stay on his good side, but not to attract further attention from him. You could do that, you had been playing a similar game for years.

“So are you going to tell me your name..? Unless you just want me to keep calling you princess?” You accidentally dropped a rice ball into your ramen, the hot broth splashing onto your hand causing you to flinch at the burn.

Dabi let out a soft hum, setting down his bowl and taking yours away before you could even protest. He took your hand into his own, wiping off the broth gently with a clean napkin that he had gotten from the takeout bag and examining the burn. You couldn’t help but watch him, entranced but how gentle he was being. It was hard to connect the fact that this man, this alpha, was a known murderer. He killed people. He was a known League of Villains member, and yet here you were, letting him kiss your hand like he was a crowned prince in a fairy tale waiting to whisk you away to a better life, his cerulean eyes latched onto your own, a teasing expression.

Your face was redder than it has ever been in your life, yanking your hand away from his grasp, clutching it against your chest like he burned you. What were you thinking? Why was he getting under you skin so easily? Sure, you didn’t have a lot of experience with alphas other than the Todoroki’s, and those that visited the house, but none of them acted like this! You scooted away from the alpha, trying to block the scent of him from your brain, trying to calm down. You weren’t sure why you were so flustered but you needed to breathe to get out of this situation and fast.

“C-can I take a shower?” You weren’t sure why you even asked. Maybe you were scared he wouldn’t let you or that he would try to follow you into the bathroom. But neither fear was necessary as he nodded his head towards the bathroom door, his eyes watching your every movement like a wild cat, a deep chuckle reverberating through the air.

“Do you want me to join you?”

“No thanks!” You jumped up and threw yourself into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaning against it, trying to calm yourself. You turned around, locking the bathroom door, hearing the alpha shuffle on the other side of it. He didn’t try the door knob though and you relaxed slightly, turning towards the rest of the bathroom you turned on the shower faucet, hesitating only a minute before stripping out of your soot covered clothes that you are noticing were definitely ruined.

You stepped into the shower, pulling closed the curtain just enough to not get water on the floor but enough that you could see the door still just in case. The only soap in the shower was a cheap alpha brand. You didn’t care at this point though. You just needed to be clean after everything that has happened. Maybe you could pretend it was Shoto or some other alpha that you were going to smell like. Maybe.. just maybe you could pretend it was Touya’s scent.

You huffed at your own stupidity. Why do you always think of him when you’re upset? He can’t just magically save you. He isn’t coming back. You don’t come back from that. You felt yourself slip down into a seated position, pulling your knees to your chest, your eyes going fuzzy as you tried to blink through the tears that suddenly threatened to spill out.

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“Y/N! Touya! Get back here!” You giggled as you heard Fuyumi’s voice ring out behind you, Touya’s bandaged fingers wrapped around your wrist pulling you behind him as he ran, his laughter spilling out. It was a Saturday, Endevor had patrol and instead of working on his training, Touya had decided to steal you away from his younger sister’s grasp.

The two of you had ran all the way through the garden in the back of the house, and hid behind a cluster of cherry blossom trees that were in full bloom. At the time you think you must have been 11 or so, him just a little bit older. He had pulled you down beside him onto the grass and covered your mouth with his hand to hid your giggles, holding a finger up to signal you to be quiet. You could hear Fuyumi run by, calling out your names searching for you both. Grumbling how it wasn’t fair that he took you while you were both playing princesses.

He finally let go of your face, a smile crossing his own as he looked at you’re winded, excited expression. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned over and kissed your cheek, just to see you blush.

“Touya!” You covered your face with your hands, feeling your cheeks glow red.

“What? Aren’t princes supposed to kiss the princess? Isn’t that the whole point? To bond with a pretty princess?”

“You think I’m pretty?” You couldn’t help but look up into his eyes, they were the prettiest things you had ever seen. The color of turquoise, perfect gem stones.

“I think you’re the prettiest.”

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“Princess? Are you okay?” You heard a soft knock on the bathroom, barely audible over the sound of the water streaming down onto your body. You realized your scent had gone sour, the sadness creeping in without your permission. You needed to keep a lid on things. You turned off the water, and grabbed what seemed to be a clean towel, wrapping yourself in it, grabbing your dirty and tattered clothes to put them on.

“I put clean clothes outside the door if you want them.” Pausing, you frowned. Clean clothes would be nice. You hated being dirty. You took a deep breath, unlocking the door and waiting a second before opening it just enough to quickly grab the clothes before shutting it again, looking at what was offered.

A pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie, very similar to what he was wearing. Cautiously you took a whiff of the clothes, relaxing when you mostly smelled the laundry detergent over his scent. You didn’t want to be scented by him more than necessary. Just in case Shoto tracked you down. You wanted him to be able to recognize you. Not that this scent proof room would allow it.

You already smelled like the alpha’s soap though, quipped your Omega, and it smelled good.

You slipped the clothes on, ignoring your omega, all of it being way too baggy on you, especially the sweatpants, which you rolled up at the bottom so not to trip. The tie to tighten them around your waist was missing and you were pretty sure you were going to have to hold them up. Frowning at your clothes on the floor, even your bra and panties had been ruined. You didn’t know what to do with them, so you scooped them up in your arms and shuffled out of the bathroom, hugging them lightly.

You heard a low whistle and saw Dabi laying with his back on the bed, messing with a phone he held above him that you assumed was a burner, the mess from your meal was cleaned up and nowhere to be found, save for the bag of snacks that you had left. One of his legs bent and with his foot on the floor, the other up on the mattress. His eyes had abandoned the screen in front of him and were trained on your swallowed form in his clothes. He couldn’t help but think how good you looked wearing his stuff, and after taking a whiff of the air he appreciated the fact that you smelled somewhat like him now, and not like that Todoroki brat. He made a mental note that you didn’t need your own clothes. You could just wear his all the time. Other than the fact that you looked uncomfortable holding up the sweat pants with one hand.

You fumbled with the bundle of clothes in your arms looking around the room for a place to settle. You wanted to curl up in bed and sleep until this was all over. But he was in the bed..

“Just toss your clothes in with mine, I’ll take care of them later.”

“No.” You were tired, you no longer wanted to deal with this alpha. You just wanted a nap, and a nest made out of your own things.

His eye brows lifted a look of intrigue settling across his expression. He sat up, eyes watching you. “No?”

You squirmed under his gaze, considering retreating to the bathroom where you could at least lock the door and be alone, but the bathroom was so small that if you wanted to lay down you would have to be in the bathtub. Which was already wet. You stood there awkwardly trying to decide which of the two you wanted to deal with more, a flirty psychotic killer, or a wet bathtub nest.

“Come here” Apparently the flirty psychotic killer won that one as before you even noticed it you were standing in front of him, him still sitting on the bed, both his feet on the ground now, legs spread to accommodate you, surrounded in his scent. Something about him had your omega waging her tail practically begging you to do things you would never even consider.

He reached his hand up like he was going to grab your face causing you to flinch, but instead his hand gripped one side of the pull tie for the hoodie, wrapping it around his wrist before yanking it harshly, pulling you forward against him slightly and pulling the tie all the way out of the hood.

You reached up and pressed your hands onto his shoulders, dropping your bundle of clothes to the floor, to brace yourself, his eyes lighting up with amusement at your reaction. You wanted to pull away, but your omega refused. You were a deer trapped in headlights.

His lidded eyes stayed on yours as his right hand that was holding the tie, slowly drifted down your body, his left sneaking out and gripping your hip to hold you in place. His right hand finally reached your hip, curving around the front of you, removing the waistband from your grasp causing your face to turn bright red, only for him to slip the end of the tie into the hold of the waistband, slowly sneaking his fingers around your waist, feeding the tie through, until finally it poked out the other hole in the front. He returned his left hand to your hip, his right gripping both ends of the tie, pausing to smirk widely at you, flashing his tongue ring before yanking harshly, pulling the waistband tight around your waist and effectively pulling you flush against him at the hip, nose to nose, your face tilted down just slightly too match eyes with him.

His scent was intoxicating. You were completely enveloped in it, and your omega was begging for him to scent you so it never left. And he was waiting for you to ask him oh so patiently. He could smell what he was doing to you, making him laugh internally that he was going to get his way quicker than he thought. Your omega reasoned that he was a strong and capable alpha. He had been nothing but nice to you since you woke up and he wasn’t forcing himself onto you like most of the alphas you had meet previously. He was being so kind and gentle and he smelled so damn good. Why can’t you just…

Because he’s a murderer? He kidnapped you? You have an Alpha? Oh and he’s a murderer!

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, releasing a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Taking the tie out of his hand, he let the rope slide through his fingers, not making a move to stop you from leaving his presence, knowing that you would be back. You turned away, tying it into a bow snuggly against your waist so that the sweat pants stayed up on their own now. You took several calming deep breathes, trying to get your brain back in order. Not noticing when he reached down and snatched your panties off the floor, stuffing them into his pocket for later.

“Y/N” You barely whispered out. Your omega was still reaching out to him, trying to push you back into his arms. But you wouldn’t listen. Your brain was frazzled and you felt like the world was spinning.

“Hmm?” The soft hum behind you, made you shiver, wondering if he was going to reach out and touch you again. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to. He didn’t though. Just leaned back on the bed, using his hands to prop himself up, enjoying the view of your backside as the inner turmoil raged in your head.

You snapped yourself out of it, clenching your fists as you crossed the room to the chair in the corner, curling up on it deciding it was as good a place as any to sleep. A soft mumble leaving your lips once more as you pulled the hood up and over your face, covering it completely from his sight other than the tip of your nose peaking out like a little mouse, the red of your blush noticeable from across the room. “My name… it’s Y/N.”

#bnah omegaverse #alpha dabi #omega reader #bnha #mha omegaverse #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #dabi x reader #dabi x you

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Michael Myers X Short! Reader - Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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Y/N was in the kitchen, preparing to make a chocolate shake because, uh, chocky shakes are quite scrumptious if I do say so myself, and I do say so. She grabbed the stool next to the small island in the kitchen and used it to get on top of the counter. She clicked her tongue, keeping her mind on her surroundings in case her roommate, Michael, were to teleport through sheer force of will and pull her down. But she didn't hear him coming.

Y/N grabbed the blender and looked around the room to make sure her stool wasn't moved when she wasn't looking. When Michael would do that, she'd fall down since it's like walking down the stairs but missing a step, making you fall down and lose your will to breath. Of course, Y/N should be smart enough to just look down or get down slowly to see if the stool is there, but that solution would be too simple and intelligent for the likes of this story.

Y/N got off the counter and kicked the stool off the side, looking around more. "Huh,"she clicked her tongue, shrugging off her paranoia. She plugged in the blender and grabbed the ice cream tub she got earlier, scooping some out and putting it in the cup of the blender. She hummed to herself as she poured in milk and whatever toppings she wanted, like oreos or something.

It was about 8am, meaning it was almost time for her to go to work. Usually Michael would be watching tv, doing something out back, or whatever else he does, but she strangely couldn't find him. It was weird for him to just be missing. But to be fair, he's an adult who can leave whenever we he wants.

I sighed, as I turned on the blender, my eyes turning dull from boredom. It felt like a weight was put on her shoulders from the disappointment, but at least getting to work on time would be easier. Michael wasn't used to a modern day home so I would usually have to go on a rundown of things to and not to do before I left. A smile lifted my face as I think back, simultaneously pouring the shake into a cup and putting it in my fridge for now.

I take a large breath again before heading to my room, pushing the door open with a silent squeak coming from it. It smelled like slight dust which kinda makes since because who the hell has time to clean anything, am I right? No one, because this story takes place in America and anyone who's lives in a different country before being here can tell you that a lot for us are depressed because America is designed to be repeatative. Like, can we please do anything other than wake up, work, go watch TV at home, then sleep? Can we have a week long festival instead of getting drunk and shooting fireworks one day in July?

I shake the thoughts that suddenly appeared in my head off, sighing as I walked to my closet. "I need to take schizophrenia pills, I swear," I mumble as I pull open the sliding door— "Yo, what the hell!-"

There the skyscraper was, right in the middle of the same closet where I keep my hoodies. He stared at me for a good four seconds, a dull expression but anyone can tell from the look in his eye that he was shookyth. Probably because he didn't his mask on but who knows.

It was a great battle honestly; as soon as I realized he was maskless, I pulled my phone out quickly for a picture, but he ran at me and took the phone away. Obviously, I wasn't gonna let that slide so I did what anyone would in the situation; kick them in the shjn because that's what everyone was thinking, right? He reactively brought his hands down fast a protection reflex, giving me enough time to grab his hand.

His grip was stronger than the strength of flex tape however, so I couldn't pull it off him before I was shoved back. I landed on my back, but tried to get back up. But hah, that would mean adding more to the "battle" so of Michael held me down after throwing the phone on the bed. "Michael, get off!" I yelled as his hands squeezed my wrists. It was embarrassing to be straddled when I had so much pride, but this isn't in a situation where I can enjoy it and act like a flustered schoolgirl!

I tried to kick my legs, but that didn't work either. I was never gonna get out of his grip but still, struggling to get out was er than admitting defeat so it's worth it. "Come on! You're heavy enough to kill me, so get up and fight like a man!" Michael had held his head down so getting a good view from my perspective wasn't easy. Basically, his head was above my chest (it's the easiest easy to describe my visionnnn) so him looking down only gives the view of his hair and forehead.

"Michael! Where you looking for that hoodie from a week ago? What were you even doing!" I shouted, cause you gotta make sure you keep that pride. I gave a couple seconds of waiting before sighing loudly, limping. Because screw that line in the same paragraph about pride, am I right? Then, he mumbled. It wasn't a word I don't think, considering it sounded more like a groan as conformation. I shivered a bit, still not used to the sound of his voice.

"Is...that a yeah?" He then nodded, but kept his head low. "Um, alright... Well, let me up and I'll get it for you, okay?" Michael then let go, standing up and helping me up in the process. "Thank you," I stated as I walked over to the closet, pulling out two hoodies. One for me, and that blue one for him. When I turned to hand his to him, he sadly put his mask on already, making me sigh again. I handed the hoodie and smiled at him.

"There you go! Let me know if you need anything else before I go, kay?" I spoke as I put on my hoodie then fixing my slightly messed up hair. He put on his hoodie, not responding in any way so I assumed nothing else was needed. I pat his arm and said bye as I walked out of the bedroom. I grabbed the oreo shake and walked out of the house, locking the door.

I shivered in bed, trying to sleep. It doesn't snow much here therefore what's basically a blizzard to happen is definitely surprising. It's worse that I have an old house; the temperature of the house really depends on the outside. There's few vents, so freezing air easily makes it into the house. And get this; the heater conveniently broke! Hah! Who's gonna come fix with weather? It's so funny it makes me want to curl up and cry, haha.

I guess it seems like I'm overreacting, but the house's temperature really is freezing because of the snow. Plus it's night out, so it's even colder. "It felt like summer yesterday though," I mumbled to myself, holding the covers tightly around me. I pressed me face closer to the pillow, closing my eyes tigher with stress. We all know a cold pillow is great but a cold cover is miserable. Michael had it worse however.

He slept on the couch with a few covers rather than a thick mattress and comforter. He got up a few times to microwave food so at least it'll make him a little warmer, but it didn't help much of course. Michael's been shot, ran over, beaten, and so many other things so the cold is nothing to him. But given the conditions he lives in, it wouldn't be wrong to use what he can to be more comfortable. Such as sleeping in a bed for once.

Just the thought of a bed sounded nice to him. The couch was small for someone tall enough to slap the top of the ceiling in schools that probably had some encouraging message on it. Michael pulled the covers off him, sitting up and stretching. His mask was off at the moment but it was too dark for anyone to notice luckily for him. He made his way towards the bedroom, opening the door silently and closing it.

Y/N frowned, nearly falling asleep at this point. Michael made his way over, softly leaning on the bed before laying on it. He wrapped his arm around Y/N for a little of warmth, since snuggles is nice I think. I wouldn't know, I've never dated. He nuzzle into the crook of her neck, closing his eyes. It was silent aside from the strangely obnoxious sound of wind from outside. I wouldn't know if that happens irl, it finally snowed for the first time where I lived and it was so little that the snow didn't pile up.

It was peaceful and Michael almost fell asleep until he heard a small snore from Y/N. Not the loli snore kind, no, I'm not a big fan of "adorable sneezes, yawns, or snores." This is the kind that you never want a significant oth set to wake you up to tell you about. Okay, maybe that not extreme but it was loud enough to be heard.

Michael felt a small smile go on his lips, intertwining his fingers with Y/N's hair. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep now. But his sleep was cut short when a loud squeak shook the house. He shook awake, sitting up immediately and looked around. All there was was a smol reader with a large smile on her face. The lamp besides the bed was turned on, showing a soft reddish feel to the room that made her blush excusable.

His look of concern fell to annoyance when he realized where the yell came from. He sighed, going deep into the covers with his back facing her. Y/N scoffed, "hey! Don't judge me! This is a three in a lifetime experience!" She huffed and pulled her phone out from under her pillow. She already got a picture of his face and hiding the picture would be easy. Uh, maybe. Y/N smirked as she plugged her phone it and turned off the lamp. She sjufgled into the covers, wrapping her smol arm around him this time.

"Goodnight~"

#michael myers x reader #horror movies #horror movies x reader #michael myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #slashers x reader #slashers x you #slashers x y/n #reader insert

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queenofspades20 · 3 years

Text

Birthday Boy

Happy birthday to my favorite fictional boyfriend. Just some fluff in honor of Bucky’s birthday.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: this is just fluff, maybe a few curse words. Enjoy!!

_____________________________________________________

Bucky and Y/n were sitting on the couch watching Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I’m telling you, Buck. The douchey ski patrol guy looks just like you!” Y/n insisted. Every time the actor popped up on the screen, Bucky just shook his head.

“I don’t see it, Doll.”

“Then you need glasses, old man!”

“Old man?” Bucky’s head snapped in Y/n’s direction. He had an incredulous look on his face. “You weren’t calling me old man last night.”

“Not my fault you’re going blind, Babe. Sebastian Stan is clearly your doppelganger. Your younger doppelganger,” Y/n said with a smirk, putting emphasis on younger. She knew she was picking a battle with Bucky but she wanted to see how far he would let her go before putting an end to it.

Bucky knew what she was up to. He loved seeing her smile, even if it was at his expense, but he was only going to let her go so far.

“I see how it is.” He leaned over and pushed her to lay down, climbing on top of her. Bucky grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head with his metal hand, his flesh hand moving down her sides, tickling her.

“Bucky, NO!” Y/n yelled out. “I was just teasing. With your birthday tomorrow, I gotta get my shots in while I can! You know I can’t help myself.” She squirmed her body, trying to move away.

Bucky shifted so his legs were on either side of Y/n’s, effectively trapping her. He started tickling her sides.

“NO! BUCKY!!” Y/n tried to pull her body away, but he was too heavy on top of her.

“I’ll show you old man.” While tickling her, he started kissing her face and neck. They were laughing, Y/n trying to desperately get away from Bucky’s hand, when Bucky felt cold water hitting his back.

“HEY!” Bucky yelled, turning around. He saw Sam and Steve standing there, laughing.

“I had to cool you off,” Sam said. He held up an empty glass and shook it. “No sex on the couch.”

Bucky let go of Y/n and got up to run after Sam. “Get over here, Birdbrain.”

Sam took off running to his room with Bucky close behind him.

Y/n looked at Steve. “He was tickling me because I called him old man. But he refuses to acknowledge he looks like the actor in Hot Tub Time Machine!”

The movie was at a scene with Blaine, the character Y/n was referring to. She pointed to the screen and Steve looked.

“I don’t see it.” Steve shrugged and walked off.

“Argh! Thor save me from old men who need glasses!”

The next morning, Y/n got up before Bucky to cook him breakfast. She had a day planned of doing activities Bucky loved. She made pancakes, bacon, and eggs with some coffee and loaded up a tray with the food. She made her way back to their shared room. Bucky was not in bed, but she could hear him in the bathroom.

“Doll?” Bucky called out.

“I have breakfast. I was hoping you’d still be in bed, or did I not tire you out?” Y/n cheekily answered.

Bucky stuck his head through the doorway. “I thought I had tired you out.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes. “Get out here, birthday boy, so I can give you your first present.”

Bucky quickly made his way over to the bed. “Breakfast with you is a good present.”

He settled onto the bed and Y/n placed the tray over his lap. “A hearty breakfast to get through the morning, because we’re going on a little trip.”

Bucky looked intrigued. “Are you going to tell me where?”

“Nope. I did think we could take your bike, since it’s a gorgeous day out.”

“You know how to drive a motorcycle? And who said I would be okay with you driving my bike?”

“One, rude. Two, I got lessons from Steve. I can get us to where we are going no problem. I even did a test drive with Steve a few days ago.”

Bucky looked impressed. “I still don’t know.”

Y/n looked at Bucky with a pout. “Please, Baby? I promise I know what I’m doing and I really want this to be a surprise.”

Bucky hesitated. He had a hard time saying no to her but he also loved his bike. “Fine, but if you seem hesitant at all, we pull over and switch.”

“Deal!” Y/n smiled widely. “Now dig in, Baby.”

They ate their breakfast and then got dressed for the day. As they made their way to the garage, Y/n held up a blindfold.

“You’re not wearing that while driving,” Bucky joked.

Y/n gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re wearing it first. I want this to be a surprise. I’ll wear it later if you’re a good boy, though. Let you do whatever you want.”

Bucky felt his pants get tighter. “Careful, Doll. Keep talking like that and we won’t make it out of the compound. But I’m going to hold you to that later,” he said as he took the blindfold.

They settled on the motorcycle and Bucky put the blindfold on. “Can you see anything, Bucky?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then. Hold on.” Y/n started the motorcycle and Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist.

They took off. It was a weird feeling for Bucky to not know where they were going, but he trusted Y/n. After a while, Bucky felt the bike slow down. He could hear crowds and screams of joy in the background. After the bike was stopped, Y/n looked over her shoulder.

“You can take off the blindfold now.”

Bucky slipped of the blindfold and smiled when he saw they were at Coney Island.

“Good surprise?” Y/n asked and bit her lip.

“Best surprise.” Bucky hugged her close.

“Good. I wanted you to have fun and not worry about the world and this seemed to fit what I wanted.”

“It’s perfect.” Bucky got off the bike and helped Y/n off.

They spent their morning at Coney Island, riding everything they could and playing several games. Y/n made sure to win a stuffed bear for Bucky. Bucky really enjoyed the Cyclone and regaling Y/n with the story of how he made Steve ride it back in the day. They had lunch and then decided to finish their visit with the Wonder Wheel. At the top of the ride, they shared a kiss.

“Good birthday so far?”

“Best I think I’ve ever had.” Bucky looked at Y/n like she hung the moon.

“Ready to head back to the compound? The team has a small party planned for you.”

Bucky had a hesitant look on his face.

Y/n rushed to assure him. “Nothing like Tony’s usual parties. It’s just the team and significant others. We want to celebrate you turning 104.”

Bucky looked relieved. “That’s fine. As long as you promise to not leave my side all night.”

“Like I would leave you anyways.”

Bucky and Y/n made their way back to the bike. Bucky immediately got on and looked at Y/n. “I’m driving back. You did a good job but I wanna drive.”

Y/n laughed and climbed behind Bucky, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I figured you’d want to drive back. I only cared about surprising you here. And maybe after the party.”

Bucky reached down and squeezed her hands. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Bucky.”

They made their way back to the compound and got ready for the party. Y/n put on a deep red knee-length dress that fit her body in a way that showcased all her favorite assets. She kept her hair and makeup simple, since the party wasn’t going to be crazy. She made her way out of the bathroom and saw Bucky buttoning up his shirt. He looked up as she walked in to grab her shoes. As she passed him, he grabbed at her hand and pulled her close.

“You look delectable,” Bucky murmured. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. His arms slid around her waist, his hands moving down until they cupped her ass. Y/n smiled at Bucky and put her arms around his neck.

“Glad you like. I bought the dress just for tonight.”

“So, another present for me? I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you.”

“Well, that is a perk of it being your party. We go for a while and then leave early and you can unwrap me and put that blindfold to use.”

Bucky groaned. “Can’t we just skip the party?”

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. “No. You know they’ll just barge in here. If we make an appearance, then we won’t be interrupted later.”

“Fine.” Bucky grumbled. He pouted as they left their room and made their way to the common area where the party was set up. Bucky was hoping if he pouted enough, Y/n would let him leave extra early.

“Your pouting isn’t going to work, Baby.” Y/n said over her shoulder, smiling.

Bucky gave up the pout and smiled back. “Worth a shot.”

When they entered the room, it was filled with the team and their partners. Steve had brought Sharon, who was happy to have made it in time, having been on a mission for the past few weeks. Clint and Natasha stood together, Clint’s arm around Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda and Vision were holding hands. Bruce had excitedly brought Betty Ross, who had recently come back into his life. Sam and Peter stood with their girlfriends and Tony and Pepper were happily hugging.

“Happy birthday, Bucky!” everyone yelled as Bucky and Y/n entered the room. Bucky felt so happy to be surround by his friends. Tony and Steve had hung up a banner that said “happy 104th birthday” and there were streamers all around the room. On the coffee table was a cake with a pile of presents for Bucky. Tony had set up a bar to the side, fully stocked with a bartender there to make everyone’s night easier. Though Thor couldn’t stay, he had dropped off some Asgardian mead for the super soldiers earlier that week. There was also a buffet table with various foods that Bucky loved, both from back in the 40s and from now.

The party had been going for a few hours and everyone was having a good time. Bucky and Steve had gotten into the mead and were feeling its effects. Bucky had opened his presents, loving everything he got, especially his new knife from Y/n.

“Doll, you already did breakfast and Coney Island. This is too much,” Bucky said as he admired the tactical knife. It had a black and blue carved handle with a steel blade that had a blue sheen.

“I saw it and thought of you,” Y/n said with a shrug. “The blade reminds me of your eye color.”

Bucky leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t wait to use it on my next mission.”

“Only you would be that excited for a knife,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Shut it, Pigeon.”

Sam just rolled his eyes with a smile. After presents were done and the cake was eaten, Bucky decided he was ready to finish his night in the bedroom with Y/n, wanting to make use of the blindfold. He looked over at Y/n and caught her eye. Bucky gave her a smirk that signaled he was ready to go.

“Well, thank you everyone for a truly great birthday. I can’t thank you enough for everything.”

“You deserve it, Punk,” Steve said, Sharon cuddled into his side.

“Definitely my best birthday yet.” Bucky pulled Y/n close and kissed her temple.

Y/n smiled, ready to start trouble. “I think that’s my cue to get this old man to bed.”

Everyone laughed while Bucky looked down at her in faux shock. “Old man??”

Y/n laughed as she stood up. “I mean, you are 104. I’m surprised you lasted this long.” She slowly made her way over towards the door. “Do we need to get you a cane or maybe a walker?”

Bucky jumped up and moved quickly towards Y/n. She let out a yell and ran towards their room. “I’ll show you old man, Doll,” Bucky yelled out as he chased her.

Everyone heard Y/n yell, “bring it on, senior citizen!”

Sam looked at Tony. “Thank you for soundproofing their room.”

“That was a present for all of us.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #Happy birthday Bucky Barnes #birthday boy #just wanted some fluff

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cleololax · 3 years

Text

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fake texts #namjoon #Jungkook #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #taehyung #bantansonyeondan

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Note

Hiii how are you 💖 I'm so excited your requests are open you're an amazing writer 💖 Can I please request a medium well steak (Katsuki Bakugou) with a side of mashed potatoes and peas please 👉👈💖

Babe staaahhp but I gotchu

College AU and also quirkless AU i have no self control

I ended up, as per usual, getting carried away with this hope you don’t mind!

Warnings: 18+, smut, some tooth rotting fluff, oral fem receiving, penetration, some dirty talk, pretty soft bakubabe

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you had started at U.A. university, you weren’t thinking of whirlwind romances or anything cliché like that. You wanted to graduate, hopefully in four years, debate about getting a masters’ degree, and then make a living doing what you love. Of course you had time for friends, going to different sporting events and clubs.

But nothing prepared you for meeting Bakugou Katsuki.

It was at a party, where else? You had finished your midterms and one of your apartment roommates wanted to go out and celebrate. Your roommate, Mina Ashido, knew of a smaller party at one of her friends places downtown. You needed the relaxation badly and just wanted to let it all out. Midterms had been extra tough this time around, but this was your second year of college so having some surprises weren’t unwarranted.

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you and Mina headed out, leaving your other roommate at home to sleep instead of party. The ride there had been filled with fun conversation about Mina’s group of friends and how chaotic they are.

“Our personalities don’t always mesh one on one, but together well we’re still crazy but we work!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, as the music pumped you up for what was to come. Once your ride dropped you off, Mina leads you to the aforementioned apartment. When the two of you walk up to the door and open it, you’re greeted by a tall and lanky man.

“Mina you made it! Just in time, I was about to rip into some of my stash. Light up?”

Mina nods eagerly and then gestures between the two of you. “Sero! This is (Y/n). The roommate and bestie I’ve been talking about?”

The three of you walk further into the apartment so you can remove your jackets in a safe room. The guy, Sero you learn, looks to you and sticks out his hand, taking it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His attention turns back to the pink haired young lady, “Mi amor, ready to go?”

You notice Mina’s cheeks redden at the affectionate term and nods. You give her a questioning but sly look as you watch them head to the back of the apartment hand in hand. You find it absolutely adorable. Mina had been gushing on and on about how much she liked this one guy in her friend group. You muse to yourself that you’d be going home alone, and you were content with that.

Making your way into the kitchen, you notice a keg and a large bin filled with Jungle Juice. You can smell the alcohol from where you stand, enticing you even more. You walk up and grab yourself a cup and talk to the faux bartender. “A cup of your finest jungle juice please.”

The blond behind the tub smirks at you and fills your cup. “I’ve never seen you here,” he comments, a little louder because of the music. “Are you Mina’s friend?”

You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I guess word about me travels fast. Yeah, I’m (Y/n).”

“The name’s Denki Kaminari. Let me guess, smoking with Sero?”

The two of you share a laugh at the mutual understanding. He further explains that those two have been pining for each other ever since they met and it was getting sickening. You ended up spending more time with the cute blond, bonding over funny stories of your shared instruments over a few cups of jungle juice.

Forty-five minutes later and the two of you make your way to a couch, where others were sitting if they weren’t dancing. Your mind and head were in a state of euphoria. You were relaxed, the alcohol in your system taking you to another level of satisfaction. You liked chatting with Denki, he was very witty and funny. Suddenly, nature called.

“Hey, you don’t mind if I go to the bathroom do you? I didn’t think I’d had that much,” Denki slurred/spoke. You nod rather heavily and watch him go. You stare at the contents of your half full cup and wonder if you should pour it out or finish it. As you’re about to stand, some super drunk couple dancing bumped into you and ceremoniously spilling your drink on you and the person next to you. You scoff and whine, a mutter of curses leaving your lips as your outfit is now ruined. You’re about to stand again when you hear to your left,

“Hey you extras! Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

How long had this guy been there? Probably the whole time considering you were immersed in conversation. You finally get a good look at him and see that some of your drink had spilled on him too.

Shit

“Oh my god,” you breathe, “I’m so sorry! They bumped into me and…”

“Oi, shut up,” your stranger scolds. “Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up and a new cup.”

Shrugging, you walk with him and notice he bumps into the offending couple. He hears them yell back but he just smirks and walks on. You realize you’re walking in the direction where Mina and Sero went a couple hours ago. You put two and two together and realize you messed up the shirt of someone who lives here. If it had been some random person, yeah whatever, but he lived here, with your best friends lover.

You start to panic.

“Oh god, you live here? Now I feel worse.”

The man turns around to face you and rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve had worse fall on me and my floor. You were talking to Denki, right? Fuckin’ idiot.”

You can’t help but smile at that, feeling some of the uneasiness melt away. You’re then tugged into this room and notice how nice it smells. It’s kept up awfully nice for some college boys, but that’s a comment you keep to yourself. You see him take off his stained shirt and you almost fall over, tripping over nothing.

“Jesus!” You screech, “you should warn someone before you decide to Magic Mike them.” You stay turned around and keep your attention to the door. Yes the door, the wonderful door that has nothing on it but the wood paneling, it’s quite nice-

“You can turn around now, dumbass.”

You take a deep breath and slowly turn around. He’s in a dry shirt that’s black with what looks like a skull on it. In his hand is a hoodie and a pair of shorts looking insanely comfy. “Here, put this on. I’ll, uh, turn around so you can change.”

You nod hesitantly and wait for him to be completely turned around before you undress. Your body feels cold from where the cool drink had spilled onto you. Once your clothes are off you put on the clothes your nice stranger have given you. You don’t mean to, but you inhale the scent of his hoodie which surprisingly smells of sweet caramel and his cologne. That was almost enough to sober you up.

“I’m done, so you can turn around.” You hadn’t noticed how tired you sounded until you spoke. Your stranger turns around and promptly blushes lightly. You do your best to hide your smile, but it pokes out.

“Bakugou.”

“What?”

“My name, stupid. It’s Bakugou.” It’s quiet as he does his best to avoid staring at you for too long.

“(Y/n).”

He had driven you back to your apartment that night, letting you know that he’d text you once your clothes were clean, exchanging numbers at your doorstep. You had insisted it wasn’t a problem for you to do it, but he stubbornly put his foot down. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have snapped back at him but refrained. It was cute, really. No guy had ever wanted to fix your clothes after someone else spilled something on it. But since it happened in his place right next to him, he couldn’t help himself.

The two of you continued to keep in touch after that. Eventually you became a regular member of their squad. Denki and Sero were happy to have you around the apartment, and Mina moreso. It all came so easily, your friendship with him, your friendship with the group; it was amazing that you went through most of college without them. You couldn’t imagine it all changing.

Until obviously it did.

Your new squad was chilling at you and Mina’s new place for your third year, getting buzzed off of either marijuana or alcohol. Your couch was the place to sit with Denki on one side and Bakugou on the other. Mina and Sero were snuggled into each other on a shared bean bag, passing a joint between the two of them. Kirishima sat on the ground by your feet, his head resting in between yours and Bakugou’s legs. The lofi music filling the room with the perfect ambiance; it was an ideal night. Kirishima rested his head against your thigh and felt your phone buzz.

“You gonna get that? It’s making your leg uncomfortable,” he breathes.

Bakugou flicks his friends shoulder, “Idiot, you can just move off of her leg,” hissing at the red head. You wave him off and get your phone out of your pocket. The caller I.D. makes you frown and you consider letting it go to voicemail, knowing full well he’ll just keep calling until he gets his answer.

Vermillion eyes peak over your shoulder and catch who it is that’s calling you. Turns out to be your scumbag of an ex, knowing that this isn’t the first time he’s tried calling you. Bakugou sees you start to shrink in on yourself as the phone keeps buzzing. “Give it here, dumbass.”

“Bakugou, it’s fine. I’ll just see what he has to say…”

“Fuck that,” his voice booming over the music as he snatches your phone and promptly answers it. “Listen dipshit, (Y/n) wants nothing to do with you. You broke her heart, you cheated, so stop fucking calling her! And if you call her again or even bother her again, I will beat your ass.”

Your eyes are blown wide at the ashy blond sticking up for you. Said ex had been harassing you nonstop since your break up two months ago and Bakugou had had enough. You didn’t think he would answer the phone for you, but he and Mina are the only ones who knew just how manipulative your ex had been so is this really that surprising? You hear the voice of your exasperated ex yell out over the phone. “And just who the fuck are you to tell me this? Her bodyguard?” You weren’t ready for how Bakugou would respond, eyes alight with a strong energy.

“Better, I’m her boyfriend.”

And he hung up.

When he returned the phone to you, your jaw was practically on the floor. All eyes in the apartment were on him as he lays back on the couch with his eyes closed. Then all eyes turn to you, equally surprised. Did he just say what you thought he said? Boyfriend? But you two hadn’t been on a date yet or even discussed it or…

“That should solve your problem.”

“Bakugou what the fuck!?” You yelled and punched his arm. “We’re not dating, why did you tell him that?”

He exhales softly and turns his attention to you, eyeing you all over. “Princess, you really can’t be that dense.” As he finishes speaking in a low tone, his arm wraps around your shoulders. You meet his gaze as if his eyes are asking for approval. “Is this,” he asks softly, “okay?”

Completely forgetting about everyone else in the room, you nod slowly. You close and lick your lips as you start to recall and remember every interaction you’ve had with the blond. How caring and attentive he’s been in his own way, how he would go above and beyond for you in the subtle ways. It all made sense, maybe you were super dense but it’s better late than never.

To further confirm your thoughts and feelings, you lean into him and lightly place your lips over his in a chaste kiss.

“It’s very okay, Katsuki.”

“Ew oh my god I’m right here. Get a room!”

“Shut up Dunce Face!”

That was a year ago, marking today as your anniversary. You had told him to come to your apartment after he had finished up at the gym with the guys. Luckily, Mina had made plans with Sero so you had the whole place to yourself. It was exciting to finally have some quality alone time with him before finals overwhelmed you all.

It was also a wonderful excuse for the two of you to be as loud as you wanted.

You wore a dress he really liked and underneath, a special surprise set of lingerie in some of his favorite colors: green, black, and orange. You were too ecstatic for him to see it, and better yet to take it off. You had felt a little uncomfortable because of your curves but he had always assured you that he loves you no matter your body shape.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the front door of your apartment open up. You pause your food making in the kitchen to go greet your boyfriend. As you approach the doorway, you see him and smell how fresh he is from the gym; it seems he showered at the gym. In his right hand is a bouquet of your favorite flowers and his left a gift bag.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” a growing smirk on his lips as he looks you up and down. You don’t miss the way his pupils dilate at your dress, knowing it’s his favorite. Since taking off his shoes, he steps up to you and sweetly kisses your lips. “Happy anniversary.”

“’Suki, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I’m fine with just having you.”

“Tch, dumbass. I know you got me something, you didn’t think I noticed that box that came in a couple days ago?”

You pout at him and take your gifts out of his hands and place them on the couch. “How’d you know?” You whine about the ruined surprise but you should’ve known your boyfriend better. “Do you know what it is?”

He runs his hand through his freshly washed hair and bites his bottom lip, “I think I have an idea, babe. Whatcha makin’?”

You twirl around in your dress, knowing damn well it’s an amazing and easy distraction to him. “Just your favorite. Everything should be ready in about 30 or so minutes?”

Suddenly you feel yourself being pushed up against the hallway wall, face to face with your gorgeous boyfriend. “Good,” he whispers huskily, “that’s enough time to enjoy my gift and dessert early.”

His voice went straight to your, now, damp panties.

You feel his hands grip your thighs to have your legs wrap around his torso. His hot breath fans over your awaiting lips, as he then kisses you hungrily. You feel his hard on against your stomach and you moan at the feel. Bakugou breaks the kiss to whisper in your ear, the heat touching your ear making you melt. “I wanna see what you got me, princess.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

With his hold on you secure, he takes you to your room blindly already knowing the way. With your door closed he latches his lips to your neck, sucking and licking all over. He places your feet on the ground as he grinds his hips into yours. Your breathing increases as you scratch at the back of his shirt. “Katsuki,” you whine.

“Mmm?”

“I want you to take off my dress.”

He hears your request and leaves your neck. He turns you around to find the zipper at the back, and slowly unzips your dress. You can feel his warm calloused fingers trailing down your spine and down to your tail bone. The fabric is now bunched down on the ground around your feet and you step out, swaying your hips as you turn around.

“Fuck baby,” he huffs, “for me?”

He had felt some of the satin as he unzipped your dress but it didn’t prepare him for what he saw before his lust blazed eyes. His colors look amazing on you and so does lace and satin. The flowered lace covering your breasts and nipples are begging for him to delve his tongue on them, admiring the extra fabric going across them. Your stomach is covered in a crisscross pattern that makes your skin look divine. And the garters on your legs, and lace thong? Bakugou is in heaven.

You nod at him and gesture for him to come closer. Bakugou gets to you post haste and starts touching you everywhere. His fingers trace all along your body and sneaking underneath your lingerie. He then trails his fingers up to your lace covered breasts and starts to pinch the hardening nub. A little squeal leaves your lips.

“That’s a new sound, do you like the feel of the lace against your nipple, baby?”

He pinches and pulls at them again, getting the same reaction that went right to his gardening dick. He groans and starts to knead your other breast, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. “Fuck,” he quickly kisses your lips, sticking his tongue in and lapping at yours, “I just wanna rip you out of this.”

“Hah, you will do no such thing. I paid a lot of money for this!”

“I’ll get you a new one, princess.”

“You are not ripping this one!”

He rolls his eyes and concedes, taking his delicate time to free your upper half from the sexy lingerie. You make a mental note to buy more lace related items. Immediately his lips go to your hardened bud and sucks viciously. You moan loudly as he releases you with a pop, going to your other breast. God, you wish he wasn’t so good with his hands and tongue, but the way he’s treating you and your reactions say otherwise.

Bakugou slowly moves you two toward your bed, in order to lay you down for what he wants to do next. You feel the back of your legs hit the edge and he places your body underneath his. Throughout all of this his lips never left your body. His lips trail closer and closer to your hips, as they wiggle in anticipation. “Do you,” you pant, “want the bottoms off?”

He takes the lining into his fingers and snaps it onto your unaware skin making you yelp. “No, your legs look hella sexy like this.” His hands are warm against your things, outlining the garter that leads up to your now soaked through thong. His nose brushes against the fabric covering your heat and he feels you shudder at the touch. He tentatively licks at your wetness and he groans in pleasure at how wet you are for him. Fuck he really loves you.

He doesn’t wait any longer and pushes the fabric aside and inserts his tongue into your awaiting heat. You whimper at the intrusion and a hand automatically goes to his hair, pulling lightly. He keeps moving his tongue up and down your slit tantalizingly slow as his fingers play and mess with your outer lips. Your breaths become erratic at your boyfriends ministrations. Before you can say anything, he moves his lips to your clit and sucks at it harshly. Your back arches off the mattress as you curse that the pleasure being given to you.

Two fingers have already entered your heat and scissor and stretch you open. Your hips have a mind of their own as they gyrate on their own accord. “Don’t make me force you to stay down, princess,” he hums against your heat. Just him saying that sends you into a frenzy, forcing him to plant his arm against your pelvis to limit your movements. He can feel the deep coil inside you that wants to come undone. And it’s all because of him and for him. His actions start to speed up and then suddenly he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact and friction.

“What the hell? I was so close!”

Bakugou snickers and wipes at his chin and sucks his fingers of some of your juices. The only word to describe him licking you off of him: erotic. “I want you to cum all over my cock, baby girl. Can you be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. As he stands to put himself on your bed, you notice his raging hard on straining against pants. Damn, it was hot. His pre was already leaving a stain and you wanted more than nothing than to have his dick in your mouth. Ruby eyes follow yours and he clicks in on what has your mouth watering. “If I wasn’t so eager to be inside you right now, I’d let you suck me dry. But all I want to is to be in your fucking pussy, you riding me.”

After he makes his declaration, Bakugou discards his pants and boxers and throws them somewhere in your room. He crawls up to you in between your legs and meets you with a fiery kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he entangles you with his scent and flavor. It’s incredibly sexy and it only makes you want him more. You take a leg and turn the two of you over, with you hovering over his tight and toned body. You know he wants this to be special because you’re on top and you’re face to face. Usually if it’s just fucking you’ll do a plethora of positions. But right now you know that you want to enjoy each others presence and make sweet love. Sitting back on your legs, you lean over to your nightstand and grab a condom. You take the wrapper in your mouth, easily tearing it to reveal the rubber. A naughty idea enters your head.

“What are you doing, baby?”

All you do is lift your eyebrows and scoot back. You take the condom in your mouth and bend over close to his aching cock. You can feel his eyes on you as you lower your mouth onto him, slowly putting the condom over his hard dick. “Ah fuck, princess! Shit feels good. Now get on top of me. Now.”

You giggle at his impatience and make your way to his covered member. You grip it lightly as you line it up with your wet slit, teasing the head of his sensitive cock. His moans are heavenly in your ears as you don’t sink on him yet completely.

Bakugous hands go to your waist, as little whimpers leave his lips at your agonizing teasing. “Shit princess, just put it in already- Hah fuck!”

It’s not everyday you catch the ashy blond of guard but when you it’s glorious. You slam yourself down on his dick, euphoria filling your senses. You loll your head back as you begin to ride him, keeping a hand on his pelvis. The two of you find a hypnotic rhythm of him pumping up into you, and you grinding down on him.

His eyes can’t help but be locked onto where you’re connected, enjoying the sounds of your slick cunt on his cock. He moves his hands from your hips to grip your bouncing breasts, adding extra pleasure to this experience. Whines and moans leave yours and his mouths as you both chase ecstasy together.

“Fuck, baby girl, it’s like your extra tight and wet for me today.”

“Hah, it’s cause I love you,” you pants your hips gyrate faster as you feel your orgasm coming closer. “I’m so close now, daddy. I wanna cum, please.” You’re begging more than usual and it feels oh so good.

You feel your clit being abused and you shout at the overwhelming pleasure rocking through you as your pace falters. “You wanna cum for me? Show me you’ve earned it.” Bakugou sits up, making your legs wrap around his waist, still pumping into you. Your arms find purchase around his neck as you lay your head on his chest, ignoring the sweat between the two of you. “Come on, show me you’ve earned it baby.”

“I’ve earned it, I’ve earned it!”

“Then come with me baby,” he pauses when he feels your fingers dig into his back. “Shit, ah right there baby, fuck, fuck!”

Your hold on him tightens as your coil comes undone and your spill all over his cock, and you feel the way his cum fills up the rubber. You two start to slow down your movements, helping each other through your orgasms. You stay there for a little bit, just enjoying the moment and to let your heartbeats come back to normal.

You roll off of him and lay down next to your spent boyfriend. He looks at you with the most love and adoration that you feel like you’re meeting him for the first time. His palm goes to your cheek to pull you in to a soft and loving kiss. It doesn’t last long as you hear the timer on the oven and the rice maker go off around the same time. Your boyfriend grumbles and rolls to stand. He carefully takes off the used up condom, ties it up and disposes it in the trashcan.

“I’ll turn off the timer, anything else you need while I’m up?”

“Some water, and my favorite post coitus snacks.”

His eyes roll, “Idiot, you made a whole meal we’re not gonna waste it because you got sex munchies.”

“’Suki!”

He throws a towel at you, ignoring your pleas. As he walks away stark naked, you lay back in your bed. You can deal with the sheets later. A feeling of love runs over you and you realize that this is something you could get used to for a long time to come.

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #katsukichu #my writing #i did the thing #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

Text

whole lotta love.

summary: you patch spencer up after a particularly difficult case.

warnings: pure smut, fluff if you squint

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 4.5k

song inspo.: whole lotta love - led zeppelin

For all intents and purposes, you’ve gotten very used to the less-than-glamorous aspects of Spencer’s job.

Sure, you don’t love when the familiar ding of his phone stops whatever he’s doing in its tracks, whether you two are curled up in bed at 2 AM or pressed against the wall together, your fingers furiously fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt to get it off as fast as possible. One notification from his phone and he’s wincing, giving you an apologetic kiss and a promise to call you as soon as we land.

But - well, you hadn’t really had much of a choice besides getting used to that one. And it hasn’t been as bad as you’d initially expected because Spencer never fails to call you every night (calling only, no matter how many times you try to convince him to get a better phone so you two can FaceTime) and it does feel pretty worth it when he comes home and tells you about the case, about a victim the team had saved or an unsub they’d apprehended.

That being said, you still haven’t gotten used to the nights where he comes home looking like this.

“Jesus Christ, Spencer,” you murmur, bringing your palms up instinctively to press to his face. Your thumbs stroke along his cheek where a slash highlights the bone and the black and blue shadow surrounding his left eye. You’re nearly positive there are more wounds you can’t see - you’ll check - but you hate seeing him come home so beat up. “What the hell happened?”

“The EMTs checked me out,” Spencer explains, larger hands wrapping around your wrist and tugging your hands off of his face. He doesn’t like to be doted on and you know that, but it isn’t as though you can just ignore how he looks. “I’m fine. They’re just superficial cuts.”

You furrow your eyebrows, feeling his hands slide down your wrist until your fingers can intertwine with his, palm flush against his just the way you like it. “You look like you lost a wrestling match.”

Your boyfriend laughs at that, taking a step away from you and leading you from the foyer of your shared apartment towards the sitting room. “We saved two little girls, though,” he tells you, and that brings a smile to your face as you tug him towards the sitting room couch. “You know, it was really lucky - 99% of abducted children die in the first 24 hours -”

“ - 75% in the first three hours and 44% in the first,” you finish, pushing Spencer onto the couch just as a grin begins to spread across his face. “I’ve heard you mention it so many times, I may as well remember it.”

“It is useful to know.”

“For you, maybe.” You lean down to press one gentle kiss to his lips before padding off towards the bathroom, pulling open one of the carefully organized first aid drawers to search for what you need. “Just stay there, Spence.”

He merely hums in response and you can imagine him - exhausted to the bone - sinking into the cushions of the couch, surely ready to sleep, but you know you won’t be able to rest until you patch him up. Seeing him beaten up is more common than you’d prefer but it doesn’t mean you have to like it, necessarily - even though you have to say you’ve gotten quite good at cleaning cuts.

Just as you pick up a small rag, turning on the sink to soak the cloth with cold water, Spencer calls from the sitting room, “Make sure you remember the Vaseline. Hydrates the wound and provides an occlusive layer which keeps the wound covered.”

You snort, digging through the drawer until you find the small tub of petroleum jelly that you always resort to when cleaning him up before turning off the sink, ringing out the washcloth so it doesn’t drip on the floor. “I know,” you call back, using your elbow to flick off the lightswitch before crossing the apartment to the kitchen, pretending like you don’t see Spencer’s gaze following you from the couch. “Come on, honey. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know?”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs as you pull open the freezer, pressing the back of your hand to each unopened bag of frozen vegetables to find the coldest one - as it turns out, it’s the peas, buried deep in the freezer, and you pull the bag out before shutting the door once more.

Vaseline and cloth in one hand and the cold bag of peas in the other, you flash Spencer a small smile as you turn to walk back to the sitting room. One short glance to the clock mounted on the wall tells you that it’s nearly 11 but you’re not nearly as tired as you’d expect, and, as you wiggle your eyes at your boyfriend as you stand between his open legs, you don’t reckon Spencer is, either.

It’s an easy maneuver to climb on top of him, legs straddling his thighs until you’re settled in his lap and your bodies fit together like they were made for each other. You can practically hear his heart thumping through his dress shirt and you’d love nothing more than to lean down and unbutton his shirt, press lingering kisses to every bit of exposed skin, but there are more pressing matters - your own needs can wait until later.

You can feel Spencer’s hands, softly touching the backs of your thighs, fingertips drumming against the smooth skin. Even when you’re so close you can feel his hesitation with being intimate like this, how he’s careful not to press too hard as if he’ll break you and you shift backwards on his lap, deepening his grasp on your thighs and he smiles softly.

(Both of you pretend not to notice the slight bulge in his pants, pressing against you as you raise the cool bag of peas to his black eye.)

“Do you want me to hold it?” Spencer questions, letting his right eye flutter closed as you dab at the slice on his cheek with your cloth, the cool water dripping down the sharp lines of his cheekbones towards his jawline. “The peas, I mean.”

“No,” you’re quick to respond, and you’re sure he’s having no difficulty profiling exactly why you’d rather him keep his hands right where they are. “I’ve got it.”

His voice is hardly above a breath as he murmurs alright, tilting his head towards you as you rub gently at the cut before leaning forward, chest pressed close to his as you lazily toss the rag onto the table sitting behind the couch. Now you can feel his heart beating - or maybe it’s yours? - and when you shift back to your previous position, you can’t possibly help yourself from leaning down, slotting your lips against his and feeling his tongue instinctively slip into your mouth.

Hands slide up your thighs, pausing for a brief moment to grope at your ass before continuing their trek upwards. Your free hand not holding the makeshift ice pack to his eye tangles in his hair, fingertips digging in his scalp as his arms wrap securely around your waist, hips bucking up into yours and that’s when you pull away. Smooth your fingers through his hair, watch the way he swallows thickly, lips moist with the mixture of your saliva.

“Sorry,” you murmur, dragging your hand from his head down to his cheek, cupping his face in your palm as he leans into your touch. He looks almost betrayed, bottom lip perking out in a pout and you sigh. “I have to patch you up, Spence.”

“I’ll be fine,” Spencer insists, sliding his hands up your waist as you work at opening the cap of the Vaseline. Your fingers are still wet from clutching the cloth and trying to do it one handed proves to be useless, and your boyfriend reluctantly pulls his hands from your waist to open the jelly for you with an ease that sends heat creeping up your cheeks before returning his palms back to their spot. “Do you know how many times I’ve gotten cut on the job?”

“I don’t think I want to know.” You dip your finger into the Vaseline and bring it up to his cheekbones, dabbing it gently on the cut. When you’ve finished you rub the jelly off of your finger and onto your sleep shorts, cringing at the slimy feeling before reaching for the bandaid sitting between your bodies. “I’m almost done.”

You fumble with the band aid, pulling both plastic pieces off the ends before pressing yourself closer to Spencer, holding the bag of peas to his eye with your forearm as you grip the adhesive with both hands. Steady fingers press the sticky band aid to his newly cleaned cut, making sure it’s perfectly centered over the injury before smoothing your fingers over it, giving it one light slap to make sure it stuck.

“Voila,” you exhale, sitting backwards to examine your work. “All done.”

“Thank God,” Spencer sighs, and you have just one spare moment of lingering eye contact before he’s pushing his head up, lips pressing to yours so intensely that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. Immediately you part your lips for him, feeling his tongue slip into your mouth as you arch your back, chest pressed against his as you lean into his touch. The bag you’d been clutching to his eye drops from your grasp, falling between your bodies as you press both palms to the side of his face, grinning against his mouth as he jumps. “Your hands are so cold.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling his fingertips creep up your back, pushing your shirt up until his palms are pressed to your bare skin, a chill rolling up your spine, and a soft whine emits from your throat into his mouth just as his fingers begin toying with the clasp of your bra. “Don’t tease, Spence - take it off, please.”

He exhales into your mouth and you furrow your eyebrows, pulling away from him and dropping your forehead against his. “You’re so impatient.” And then his hands slide back down your back, away from the clasp you’re desperate for him to undo. “It makes sense - you’re always extra needy when I come home from missions. Getting off through the phone isn’t as good as the real thing, is it? Not for you.”

A soft sigh escapes your lips as Spencer leans forward, lips attaching to the underside of your jaw and you can feel him suckling softly on the soft skin, surely looking to leave one of the lasting marks that he loves to examine days after he makes them. Perhaps it’s because of the long distance nature of his job that he enjoys marking you up, making sure anyone with wandering eyes knows that you’re accounted for even when he’s not with you, or maybe he just likes claiming you as his own - either way, you wouldn’t dare to object. “Don’t profile me,” you plead, head tilting backwards as Spencer’s lips pull off of your jawline with a soft pop, thumb stroking over the skin he’d been assaulting as if to assess whether the hickey he’d left is adequate. “Come on, Spence.”

You reach down for the bottom of your tank top, pulling the offending fabric up and over your head without another moment of hesitation. The shirt is discarded, tossed to a corner of the sitting room and you don’t bother confirming where it goes - you just loop your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, leaning in to kiss him again but he stops you, tugging on your bra strap with not nearly enough strength to prevent your movement but you accept the gesture, leaning backwards until your eyes connect with his.

“Can’t you just indulge me?” you question, arching your back into Spencer’s touch as his hands move from around your back to your chest, palms cupping your tits through your bra. “Please?”

There’s another pause, Spencer’s fingertips dipping into the cups of your bra, palms warm against your chest. “Well, since you asked nicely.”

You smile, leaning in to attach your lips to his, teeth gently sinking into his bottom lip just as he pulls down the straps of your bra, letting them fall down your arms so he can pull the cups down over your breasts. Fingertips pinch your nipples and you whine into his mouth, pushing your chest further into his hands as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

For a minute you go on just like that - hands on your tits, groping the skin and thumbing your nipples until you pull your lips from his, gasping in a breath as you rock your hips against the bulge in his pants. “Fuck,” he breathes as your fingers go to the buttons of his shirt, pulling them open one by one to expose more and more of his chest to you, and your head dips down to press a kiss to his collarbone just as you’d fantasized doing before.

When you’ve undone every button you pull both halves of his shirt apart, tugging the sleeves down his arms and he removes his hands from your body so you can pull it off - it’s thrown in another direction much like your tank top and you’re more than grateful to have Spencer’s entire torso exposed to you. Hands smooth up and down his chest, feeling his skin burst up in goosebumps beneath your touch and you watch his mouth part open with pleasure before leaning forward again, slotting your lips against his once more.

“Take my bra off,” you beg, and his eyebrows arch upwards like the request was simply blasphemous. “Please, Spence - please - want you to touch me -”

“I am touching you.” And to prove his point his hands smooth up and down your waist, fingertips drumming your skin.

Your eyes drift shut as Spencer’s hips roll up into yours, prominent bulge brushing against your clit even through your sleep shorts and you focus your hands on his shoulders, using your grasp as leverage to rock your hips further into his. “Just take it off - don’t tease me, please!”

You’re not sure whether it’s his own desires to strip you down or if he’s not interested in teasing you any longer but no matter - Spencer’s fingers slide up your back, briefly fiddling with the clasp of your bra before undoing it and the cups fall away from your chest, straps sliding down your arms and you pull it off, tossing it over the top of the couch. The coldness of the apartment bites at your skin and a shiver rolls through your spine, the sensation only heightened as Spencer ducks his head down, tongue flicking against your nipple before his lips close around it, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the hollow bud and you throw your head back with a loud cry.

“Take your shorts off,” Spencer mumbles, voice muffled against your tits and you oblige, shaky hands dropping to tug the tie on your shorts free. It’s a struggle to pull them off your legs while straddling him, his arms wrapping around your back to hold your chest to his mouth as you maneuver the fabric until you can drop it over the side of the couch, leaving you only in your panties and he’s quick to take advantage of your new near-nudeness. Hands slide down your back, fingers hooking in the hem of your thong and palms groping your ass and whatever shyness he’d had before about groping your thighs is gone - when things get going he’s fucking unstoppable and that’s what you love.

You drag your hands down his chest, fingertips dragging feather-light on his stomach before you reach his lap, undoing the button on his pants and pulling the zipper down. His hips buck upwards when your fingertips brush the bulge in his boxers and you bite back your smile, resting your forehead against his once more as you pull the hem of his underwear down over his cock, hand wrapping around his erection without another second of hesitation and Spencer’s head drops back onto the cushion, a low groan emitting from his throat.

His fingers follow the hem of your thong around your hips until he’s tracing the fabric covering your pussy, cloth soaked with your arousal and even just the slightest touch has you whining out, grasp tightening around his cock. “I need to be inside you,” Spencer murmurs, and the words are so filth-laden that you moan out again, feeling his fingers pull your panties to the side until his digits dip through your folds, circling your clit and smirking at the way you tremor above him. “You want that too, don’t you? I can tell - you’re shaking and you keep making those little noises.”

Don’t profile me is what you would say if you were in any other state of mind but the only thing you can think to respond with is a soft moan, dropping your head back as Spencer leans in, lips closing in around your throat again. Your hand pumps his cock, thighs quivering in their efforts to hold yourself above him, and his hand that isn’t holding your panties to the side mercifully slides to your ass, holding you up as you align him with your entrance. Slowly you sink down onto him - for a guy so skinny he’s bigger than you’d expect and you always need to start slow to adjust - and within seconds you’ve bottomed out, feeling his cock buried deeper inside of you than you could ever imagine, and the two of you collectively lean in to press your lips together, moans landing inside each other’s mouths.

“Oh, God,” you breathe, shifting closer to him so your chests brush together and Spencer’s arm tightens around your back, holding you as tight to him as possible. He knows enough to give you a moment’s adjustment period, body quivering as he struggles to stay still but he’d never dream of moving until you’re perfectly comfortable. “Okay - move, Spence - I’m ready - need you to fuck me -”

He nods immediately, fingernails scratching into the sides of your waist as you pull yourself up, lifting until only the tip of his cock remains buried in your pussy before sinking back down, head pulling away from his to drop back in ecstasy at the sensation. Immediately you feel Spencer’s head bury itself in the junction between your neck and shoulder, breath hot and lips puckered against your skin as he presses a permanent kiss to the side of your throat, arms around your body helping you move up and down on him.

It takes a moment for you two to work yourselves into a groove, feeling Spencer’s teeth dig into your throat as you sink back down onto him over and over again - but once you do it feels fucking miraculous, rolling your hips back and forth so your clit brushes against his pelvic bone. Your palms press to the sides of his face, feeling the light dusting of facial hair beneath your touch and you nearly want to pull his head up, smash your lips together until you’re breathless but the way he’s suckling dark marks around your throat feels so good and you’re not sure you’re willing to give it up - you compromise by looping your arms around his neck, fingernails scratching into the base of his neck.

“God, Spencer,” you moan, your speed picking up as you lift yourself off of him and slam back down, feeling his breathing pick up into your neck as his nails dig so deep into your waist that it nearly hurts but in the best fucking way possible. He loves when you praise him - you know that - and you never have an issue indulging him. “Feels so good - filling me so good -”

And there’s that telltale groan into your neck followed by Spencer pulling his lips from your throat and when your eyes meet his they’re clouded with lust, pupils drowning out the normal chocolate tone of his orbs that you love to see but hell if you don’t adore seeing him like this. His mouth drops open with a silent groan as you grind your hips into his, tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck just the way you know he likes.

Your thighs burn vehemently as you struggle to keep yourself upright, the urge to merely collapse into your boyfriend’s strong arms nearly overwhelming but your desire to prolong the pleasure coursing through your body far outweighs it. Spencer can feel your struggle - it’s the profiler in him, you’d assume - and his arms slowly unwrap from around your body, palms landing on the underside of your ass and using the leverage to work you up and down. It doesn’t do much to alleviate the slight burn in your muscle but you appreciate it and so you lean in, pull Spencer’s face close to yours and close your lips to his once more.

“Gonna fill you up,” Spencer grunts and the words send your stomach turning just as his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside of you that has your back arching, dropping your head into his shoulder with a desperate sob. “You want that?”

You nod desperately, eyes burning with tears derived from the pure ecstasy afflicting your body as you unwind one of your arms from his neck, pressing two of your fingers to your clit and rubbing small circles into the sensitive bud. Spencer typically always wears a condom - better safe than sorry is his motto - but it never stops him from hissing into your ear every time about how much he wants to fill you up and you fucking yearn for it, too. You need it. “Do it, Spence - please, I want you t - to fill me up.”

His hips thrust up into yours, meeting you halfway as a breathy groan escapes his throat. “I can’t -”

“I went on birth control, Spence, you can.”

He pauses - you lift your head up to look at him, hips briefly slowing down in their relentless rocking against his. “You know, on average the pill is only 91% effective.”

You grin, leaning in to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips as his hips begin to roll up into yours again, his fingertips digging into the globes of your ass. “Let’s take our chances.”

It seems to be a good enough answer to him and so he nods, sweaty curls dropping onto his forehead and you bring your free hand up, pushing his hair back as your other hand focuses on circling your clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through your body. You’re so close you can practically taste your impending release on the tip of your tongue and you know Spencer’s almost there, too - can feel his cock, twitching deep inside of you, surely mere seconds away from imploding - and you clench around him just as you pinch your clit between your fingers and -

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and you never appreciate just how true the sentiment is until reunion sex with Spencer. After nearly a week of not seeing or touching each other your orgasm is fucking miraculous, stars dotting your vision as you throw your head back and your entire body feels like it’s floating, pleasure rolling through your body like a tsunami intent on destruction in the greatest way possible. You ground your hips into his, forcing him inside you to the hilt as your cunt flutters around his cock and you barely hear his loud moan, the noise growing higher as his hips buck into yours and then you can feel him cumming, the sensation hot in your core as he spurts inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” Spencer groans, smoothing his hands up your back as your hips roll against his, riding out both of your orgasms as you drop your head into his shoulder, feeling his lips land against your temple. “That’s - God, that’s so good.”

Yes, it is. It feels so fucking good, feeling him cumming deep inside of you and it’s all you can do to sit there and take it in, body going nearly limp against his until his arms are the only thing holding you up, his hands massaging your back as you let your eyes shut, focusing solely on steadying your breathing as the aftershocks of your release course through your veins.

There’s a second of silence - only a second, where the only noise from either of you is the sound of your panting, both of you desperate to catch your breath in the wake of it all - and then Spencer leans backwards, your chests pressed together as you press your lips to his cheek, feeling rather than seeing his lips turn upwards into a smile.

“Maybe I should get beat up by an unsub more often,” your boyfriend mumbles, smoothing his fingers through your hair, and you lift your head up to rest your chin to his shoulder, narrowing your eyes.

“You’d better not.” You shift on his lap, the burn in your muscles settling into a dull ache but you don’t have the energy to readjust - it’s a pain you don’t quite dislike, anyway. “I hate seeing you all cut up. I can’t believe anyone would want to ruin this pretty face.”

You raise your hand up, playfully smacking his cheek twice and he smiles. Then his hands grip onto your waist, lifting you up just a bit until his softened cock slips out of you and with just a bit of maneuvering he lies you down on the couch, shifting until he’s spooning you, chest pressed to your back and your heads resting on the cushion. One glance down tells you that this position can’t possibly be comfortable for him, his leg bent awkwardly and the other thrown over the edge of the couch but when he wraps his arms around your body you can’t bring it in yourself to mind too much.

The cool air of his apartment bites at your skin but it’s relieving, feeling the cold wash away the sweat built up on your skin from being so close to him - it’s a contrast you’re grateful for and it’s the reason you don’t tug the afghan hanging over the back of the couch over your bodies.

Well, you suppose that for every shortcoming of dating someone with a job like his there’s a bonus. And this - feeling his arms tight around your body, head pressed back into his chest with his heartbeat in your ears and his soft breathing onto your head - you’d certainly consider it a bonus.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid writing #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds writing #girl next ill write something for mgg #i like dis a lot ngl

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