#like do you find yourself become unhinged so if they reply to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saltburnedme · 5 months

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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

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zoros-sake-bottles · 7 months

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What you'd argue with them over! Pt.2 (Zoro, Sanji & Law)

READ PT. 1 FIRST

https://www.tumblr.com/zoros-sake-bottles/719410532748328960/what-youd-argue-with-them-over-pt1-zoro?source=share

Zoro

After that argument the with Zoro about him not caring for his health you weren’t the same

You began allowing him to do what he saw fit

He’d injure himself and you wouldn’t say a word

You refused to nag him-to beg him to think about his body, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care

So you thought of a way to prove your point…and that was putting yourself in harms way constantly

In order for him to understand where you were coming from, he was going to have to see it himself … on you

So the day after that you continuously allowed yourself to get hurt in battles

At first it was little things like scrapes, cuts and bruises, Zoro saw these but didn’t pay them much mind because of how small they were

But over time it became more excessive, you allowed your opponent to freely bang you up before defeating them

You’d come back with bigger bruises covering your rib cage, you even had a busted lip

At one point he just couldn’t take it anymore and while you were getting treated he burst into the room and told Chopper to take five, leaving you two alone

“....What the hell was that out there?” is all he says as he stares down at you on the hospital cot

“A fight-”

“Screw that y/n, you know what I mean!” his jaw is clenched as he looks at your body all bruised and bleeding

You sit up holding your broken rib and Zoro’s arms go out to help you but you push them away

“Look at yourself, seriously, you shouldn’t be-”

You ignore him, going as far to stand up

Your legs wobble excessively as you take small steps

“Y/n sit down, your in no shape to go do anything right now-”

Your leg buckles as you continue to try and walk your breath becoming more like a wheeze

“Y/n! Alright! Enough! I get it!” Zoro grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes

His body shakes a bit and his eyes are deeply concerned as he guides you back onto the cot

“You proved your point just-.....sit down” his voice stresses as he helps you onto the cot and covers you with a blanket

Despite the pain your in you find it in you to laugh a bit, it makes you look unhinged

You have dried blood under your nose and your bottom lip is swollen but all you can think about is how your plan worked

Zoro’s sits down on a stool in front of you, he shakes his head and sighs as he runs a hand down his face “crazy woman…” he mutters

Sanji

Since the argument Sanji has apologized to you countless times and you know that he means them some what

He's sorry that he upset you, he's sorry that you felt like you had to resort to physical violence

He doesn't understand the issue at hand and so as much as you hated what you were gonna do you had to give him a taste of what you experience with him on a daily

You started subtly allowing yourself to be hit on by males

You were a girl that could handle yourself so usually Sanji just watched (intensely and angrily) in these situations as you told the men off

But can you imagine his face when you didn't tell the guys to kick rocks?!

When you accepted the sleazy compliments and even gave some!

Sanji nearly went comatose as he watched you joyfully conversate with a scumbag at a bar

His jaw dropped as you laughed at the strangers jokes and even poured him more sake in his shot glass

"Mon cheri!? W-what's-I-I…why'd you-"

"Why what?" you reply nonchalantly

"T-that garbage man was…he was sexualizing your body dear!"

"Your being dramatic Sanji he was just expressing to me how much he admired my beauty-"

"My love no, that scum was undressing you with his eyes"

"your being ridiculous"

Sanji looks hurt as he tries to appeal to you somehow but his words just weren’t getting through

The man comes back and right in front of Sanji he’s about to caress your hair

There's no way Sanji would allow that, he ends up kicking the half drunk in the stomach sending him flying through the bar

Your jaw drops as you look up at him

Sanji face is scrunched as he looks at the guy knocked out, half his body in the bar and the other half hanging out

“Sanji-”

Sanji turns to you and takes your hands in his and with an inhale he says

“Mon amour, I cannot imagine how you feel when this happens to me and I am so sorry that I didn’t take the issue serious enough to the point you had to do a demonstration like this, I'm a fool”

He rubs your hands with his thumbs and he seems still very heated from the entire ordeal

You can’t even stay mad at Sanji because of how jealous he looks

“I forgive you baby, I'm glad you can see what I go through…”

You smile softly at him and he looks at you with a smudge of a smile

“....you didn’t have to compliment his hair….it wasn’t even nice” Sanji mumbles still jealous

You giggle and caress his face

“You're right it was an ugly orange color but do you know what my favorite color is?”

Sanji looks at you curiously

“Yellow”

You give him a kiss and he blushes not even thinking about that stupid drunk from before. He just wants to drown in your praises

Law

After the argument you both had before he has been acting as if it never happened

He gave you time to cool of but when you came back he didn’t apologize but rather gave you a task to fulfill

Its as if that was his way of saying that you overreacted and that it wasn’t that deep

You decided to keep it all inside, that's all Law ever did anyway so he shouldn’t have had a problem with you doing the same

You were tired of being labeled as over emotional every time something got you riled up or hurt your feelings

You wanted to be taken seriously by Law

One day you were listening in on Law's meeting that he had purposely left you out of

It seems he was planning on having the crew go to a dangerous island that had a poneglyph on it next

This idea is tossed around because Law isn’t risky and nonchalant like his fellow members of the worst generation

He is precise as a surgeon should be

You were all running low resources and the island was close so it was decided that the crew would stop at the island for resources ONLY

So once you all arrived at the island you decided to sneak off and take prints of the poneglyph

It definitely wasn't easy and you had plenty of cuts and scrapes but it was all worth it and you couldn't wait to see the look on Law's face!

When you arrived back it was about afternoon, you searched for the submarine in the water but your eyes landed on your irritated boyfriend instead

He leaned against a rock his arms crossed his head tilted down

"y/n ya, tell me three things"

You can feel the disapproval oozing off of him and before you know it your being 'shambled'

You reappear in front of him

"What was the plan?" "Where have you been?" "Who's your captain?"

"The plan was to retrieve resources and I chose to act alone on my own little mission, I don't know what the big deal is you do it all the time" You scoff turning your head away

Almost immediately he is turning your head back with his long slender fingers

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for games? Do you know how long I've been standing here?, We were done with the mission hours ago" he stares into your soul with his dark eyes

You almost always came close to folding when he had you like this

"I-...well-" You sputter watching his sharp eyebrow lift

"You can't even defend yourself, look at you blubbering like a moronic fish"

You feel embarrassed slightly but you don't back down "I got a print of the poneglyph"

You shove the scroll into his face but it's almost as he doesn't see it

"Does go and buy some rice and dried meat sound like go and get the poneglyph to you? If so I'm going to check your hearing right now"

"I-"

He holds your wrist and you wince as he examines you, even though he's clearly upset, he's tending to you like your made out of glass

Its silent as he slowly rotates you, he touches at your shoulder and when you hiss it confirms whatever analysis going on in his brain

"You need stitches" he grumbles

"I'll do it myself, anyway look" you thrust the poneglyph into his face again

He takes the print from you and tsks before making it disappear

"Law!-"

"What? Am I supposed to be happy you went against my orders and got yourself injured all to prove meager point"

Your shoulders sink "...did-...did it work at least?"

He sighs as takes off his hat before running his hands through his raven hair

"....It's hot as hell…and…i'm hungry"

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, was he changing the subject "What?"

"My back is killing me…"

You blink, was this his way of apologizing? Was he trying to communicate now?

You swallow and kick at the grass "I-I…I can massage it for you" you blush lightly "if you want-"

"That sounds heaven sent" he gives a small smirk

"Oh-okay, lets go then-"

Your body is pulled in close by him

"L-law?"

"You know, you never answered my third question he says softly

"Huh?-"

"Who's your captain?" he rest his forehead against yours

Your heart beats quickly and you find yourself trying to slow your breathing

"Y/n ya…"

"....you...your my captain"

#one piece #sanji x reader #fem!reader #law x reader #sanji #roronoa zoro #strawhat pirates #vinsmoke sanji #x reader #tralfagar law #zoro x reader #straw hat pirates #heart pirates #mugiwara no luffy #marimo #onepiece live action

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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honestly your dpxdc clone au gives me life, its adorable as all hell and im a sucker for found family but with that being said, its so freaking hysterical to me that Danny is going full feral liminal menace at Wes any time hes near and Wes himself is still 100% into it the freak (affectionate) and thats not even pointing out the paralles it could possible create since danny and dames gives massive parallels to dick and damian and dick does have a thing for redheads.

yeesSSSSS! I was planning on hoarding this to myself but i can't not reply. and i'll be able to find this again with the clone^2 tag so win WIN. i'm so glad you are as delighted by this as me. It's so hilarious to me that Danny just becomes a complete freak whenever he spots Wes, and I'm the one who wrote it into existence. Like- like i don't know how to explain my vision in words but like, its like Danny sees Wes and immediately goes 'what can I do to make his day worse'. And then he goes and does it.

(honorary read more because i talk a lot)

He's relatively normal around his friends too, which makes him going full-fledged unhinged around Wes even funnier to me. Like, Danny will spout weird shit sometimes to Sam and Tucker, but usually its prefaced with him talking about patrol or there would be context before he said anything. With Wes? Though?? he will just. say anything, completely unprompted. Slings an arm around his shoulder like they've been buddies since primary school and then spits out a weird new fun fact he learned about the bodily anatomy while researching his latest cold case. All vaguely-threatening but utterly insane things to say as way to start a conversation.

And sometimes its not even that, he'll walk up to Wes and ask him if he saw the latest daytime fight between Phantom and Skulker. And then he'll say "yeah i missed it myself but I saw clips of it being posted online" and then watch Wes mentally explode him with his mind. or he'll disparage Phantom for having such a young partner with him, "Can you believe he'd let a kid fight ghosts with him? I'd never let my brother ghosthunt with me if I was Phantom."

All of this with such a deceptive look on his face but the most delighted, shit-eating gleam in his eyes. Wes is chewing glass and he wants to yell that he does let his brother fight ghosts with him. Also you told him yourself that nothing would've stopped your demonic (Wes' words) little brother from joining you.

Damian gets in on the fuckery occasionally, but since he's not around often with Wes about, it doesn't happen nearly as often as it does between Wes and Danny. Sam and Tucker know he's screwing with him too, and both of them are a little wary about him being careless with his secret id. But he's been doing this since he was 14-ish and it hasn't backfired yet. So. They're not actively stopping him.

Danny walks back to his lunch table after terrorizing Wes and Tucker just asks him what he said, because Wes was about as red as a tomato when he walked away. Danny offhandedly sighs and innocently says he tried to have a conversation about Phantom with him. Wes didn't seem to like it all that much. Weird.

And yes, yes. Wes is totally into it and is slightly enraged about this fact, because not even he knows why he's into it. The freak (affectionate). Danny gives him this troublemaker smirk, and i did say smirk, and Wes doesn't know whether or not if he wants to smack him or kiss him. Or both. Like, yeah, pine, white boy, pine.

(And this is a dramatized image but I'm also highly entertained by the idea that Wes keeps getting routine dirty looks from various peers because they, too, have a crush on Fenton. Except Fenton doesn't talk to anyone else unless its his friends and sometimes Valerie, and Weston, the guy who keeps accusing him of being the local vigilante, is somehow routinely having conversations with him?? And BLOWING IT?? Like everyone else thinks he's fumbling so bad, and yet fenton keeps tALKING to him.)

And yes!! i'm always so pleased whenever someone brings up the parallels D+D have to Dick and Damian, because that was lowkey my intention when I was making the solo clone damian au. Although it was supposed to be more implied since I don't really know much about Damian and Dick other than they're very close and Dick was Damian's Batman for a year. And then of course the very smaller parallel (??) 'what if' between Bruce and Damian and D+D in clone^2 considering who they are both clones of.

And man this just makes me want to talk about when batfam meet D+D because I just want them to see D+D be so brotherly towards each other. Like I want them to see Bby Dames wearing his goofy fun fact shirts and stealing Danny's hoodies/flannels/etc and blatantly lying about it when Danny asks. Only for Danny to then throw him over his shoulder like Tadashi from BH3 and jump around.

And also. I do not know what Damian Wayne's (DW as I'll call him) stance on being called "Dami" is - the general consensus I've seen is that its usually used as a playful nickname in order to get a rise out of him, and he doesn't really like it.

But baby Dames being called that freely, and often, and its sometimes used to get a rise out of him but thats typically what nicknames do. Its used as easily as his full name is with the same amount of affection. And its like his main go-to nickname. "Dami" and "Dames" with the occasional "Bud/Buddy", "Squirt", "Little man", etc. Not once is he ever called 'demon-spawn'

(which i know is a fanon nickname but its a relatively popular nickname)

but yeah, uhhh. i think thats all of my thoughts on the matter. for now lmAO

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #clone^2 #i use 'like' so much its not even funny jhdf but it just puts an emphasis on the sentence #honorary read more tag bc damn i talk a lot #i should make a post about danny's relationship with red huntress in the clone^2 au because i like to imagine that's different too #anyways danny and wes' dynamic in clone^2 brings me a lot of joy. they get stuck in a room together and danny gets the biggest grin ever #and wes stares at him before going completely deadpan 'im in hell'. he's being dramatic and only slightly for real.#also im not sure WHAT damian does - honestly the most extreme thing i can think of is him breaking into wes' house and threatening him #but wes has called him danny's 'demonic little brother' ever since. sOMEbody has to give him his 'demon' nickname its just not gonna be #danny or jazz who do it. anyways damian fully supports messing with wes and anyone else who has a crush on danny

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sumiez · 2 years

Note

so.. hear me out.. you know how kurt says he’s “all about love” on his stream? how about reader is almost as unhinged as he is, showing up to every stream and viewing every video. they understand and worship the lesson. now that he’s all about love reader is too and tries to get him to love them back

- n.e

paparazzi | kurt kunkle

warnings: typical spree stuff, obsessions, hit and runs, makeout sessions

a/n: first kurt request.. i hope i did him justice!! love the idea btw i love when readers are just as cuckoo as him

to call yourself obsessed with kurtsworld96 is a grave understatement. you weren't sure exactly how you discovered such an obscure influencer, it was likely youtube's algorithm being generous, but it was one of the best things to ever happen to you.

every video of his would receive a like from you. every stream would result in you two chatting about anything and everything before it inevitably ends with his mom calling him down for dinner. but that was the extent of your relationship—a fan and content creator.

you're enamoured with the idea of becoming his number one fan, his ride or die, his most loyal follower. every time he greets you on stream your heart soars.

once he began the lesson, however, you became determined to meet him. a real, genuine meeting, and you were going to win him over for good. you worship the lesson, it's not staged prank content like his friend bobby, it's real. it's gritty. and, in your opinion, incredibly attractive.

who cares about the people you left behind to travel all the way to outside LA. kurt is all that matters in your lovesick state.

opening the gogo app, you frantically search for kurt's description. according to his stream, he should be searching for unlucky victims right about now, despite spree being suspended.

you're about to grow frustrated until you see your saviour's profile appear. you couldn't possibly be happier.

immediately requesting a ride, you fish out your handcrafted, shoddily made kurtsworld hat and drop it onto the top of your head. you cannot wait to see the look on his face when he catches you adorning it.

after a few minutes of listening to him ramble to the camera about how he's surprised no passengers have recognized him, you hear him announce that he thinks he has his eyes on the prize—you.

you enter the stolen vehicle with a skip in your step, except this time you find comfort in the passenger seat.

"whoa whoa w—hey, wait, is that a..?" he stammers out, initially apprehensive at your choice of seating but you see him ease up once he notices your headwear.

"yes, kurt, i'm literally your biggest fan," you answer breathlessly, showing off your hat to the camera. "i loved watching you kill all those jerks, but now that you're all about love it's even better, you know? i've been watch—"

you're interrupted by kurt laughing out of pure glee. he's never felt this loved before. "holy shit you guys, we actually ... we have a real fan in the house," he trips over his own words out of unfiltered excitement. he made it. fuck his other tens of thousands of viewers, this person, this angel, is all that matters.

the two of you spend what feels like an eternity chatting, just like old times.

"what's your favourite video i've made?" he asks, and if your vision isn't deceiving you, he's blushing. hard.

"gotta be your horror movie reviews. i liked you before the lesson too. but your water bottle tutorial was really useful too, i know a few people who really need to drink one." you reply instantly, as if you planned out the whole conversation.

in truth, you did rehearse your answers to certain questions, you're infatuated with your plan to impress kurt and win him over. some may call you unhinged, but you're the kind of person who'd do anything for love.

the chat isn't too fond of your friendly behaviour with each other. they're begging for something gory to happen, and honestly, a death at kurt's hand isn't something you'd hate that much.

he listens for their pleas to start driving and places his hands on the wheel. "you want to go to the...construction site, right...?" he asks with a raised brow.

"yeah! i loved the gummy bear part of the stream, i'd love to check the place out myself." a smile graces his features in response to your words. he's still shocked that someone actually likes his content enough to spend time with him.

as you drive down the bumpy road, he pipes up. "so, like, what's your handle? i'll follow you back,"

"we've been mutuals for years, kurt."

"wait, you're—" he repeats your username, the one person other than bobby who continuously tunes into his content. "damn. that's so cool. it was always...neat seeing you pop in,"

you perk up as your face grows warm, "you really think so? it means a lot."

"of... of course i think so. i couldn't have done it without... well, you..."

as he steers, you embrace the boldness kurt gives you and you peck him on the cheek. the skin is flushed beneath your lips, and he nearly crashes at the contact.

"i... oh god, you just.. i really... i really want to.."

"look! some dumbass is crossing the street! hit them, hit them!" you jump out of your seat and point towards a middle aged man, and kurt speeds up.

he's so flustered that he's still registering the kiss, but he complies, hitting the pedestrian with a bone—chilling thump.

his viewers are growing every second, the chat congratulating him for getting some action, while others toss insults at the life you two just ended.

"our first kill," you say as you two lock eyes and he has the giddiest grin on his face.

finally reaching your destination, he opens the driver side door and does a loop around the car to open yours. such a gentleman.

with his clammy hand in yours, you step out.

"sooo, this is the spot where i ran that douchebag over," he points around the area, shuffling his feet. "i can... show you the junkyard with the dogs too, if you want."

you nod enthusiastically, "i'd love to see that."

"great, great. uhh.." as he thinks of what to say next, you approach him. draping your arms around his neck, you press a kiss to his chapped lips. he can't help but groan at your touch, never having kissed anybody like this before.

he instinctively pulls you off.

"i... that was..."

"nice?"

"yeah. nice. do you wanna take this to my...back to my car, or something?" nodding again at his words, you reach for his hand again and stroll to the vehicle with him.

you crawl inside and kurt immediately gets comfortable on top of you, shoving his face into yours. you can tell he's inexperienced when it comes to kissing, but you return the touches, fingers finding refuge in his tufts of hair. his kisses are sloppy but passionate, his longing to be loved presenting itself in each action.

"i've always wanted to..." he mutters as he pulls away for air. "...kiss someone like that. i'm glad it was a fan and not some jerk at one of bobby's parties,"

your heart hammers in your chest as you respond with another breathless kiss. you're actually kissing your idol, and his entire stream is watching. kinda forgot about that.

without warning, a police car skids into the lot, and you and kurt exchange glances of horror.

he rushes to the driver's seat, yelling at you to put on a seatbelt as he preps for blastoff.

he peels out of the area, driving to god knows where.

"well, my little... partner in crime... do you wanna finish what we started somewhere else?"

"of course."

#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle imagine

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undercoverpena · 2 years

Note

Fluff headcanons of Matt finding you hurt?

sorry for the slow reply on this. but here you go �� I make so many apologies for typos, your girl is drinking ✨ and I shifted it a touch, the prompt. hope you don’t mind and made it end nicely.

Both Sides

Matt Murdock x Reader

(Mentions of needles for stitching purposes)

___________________

There’s nothing more he hates than you being in pain. Whether from him or someone else. He does hurt you, without meaning to.

His reluctance, him keeping you at arms length being the main cause.

But, when he hears you in his bathroom, it’s different. He’s used to you being here, often finding you when he gets home at all hours of the night—a need to ensure he’s okay.

A need to be here if he needs stitches or company. You share his bed, his hand wanting to drift to your hip, to feel how soft your skin is. But he doesn’t. Even if he wants to—even if he’s desperate too.

Now though, your heart is pounding and your muttering under your breath. Forcing him on edge.

He doesn’t wait to cross the room, Matt’s suit undone to his waist, mask thrown onto the armchair. But he does wait a second before he interrupts you.

If only to listen to your low hisses, and the way your heart rate keeps spiking as you try to remove whatever is lodged in your arm.

Trying to not focus on the way the air is saturated with a blend of your perfume, sweat and your blood.

“Need a hand?” he asks, hearing your surprise in the way you jump, and the instrument in your hand clattering into the sink.

The fact you take it says enough.

“Cross-fire. That’s all. I’m fine.”

So matter of fact, as if that answer is enough. He knows the city has been wild tonight, more unhinged than normal.

Matt also knows you’re too proud, stubborn. Qualities he knows are in himself too. So he never expects a straight forward answer.

When his fingers ghost over your wound, his brow quips before he says: “You’ve removed it—the bullet…”

Your reply unexpected, but not out of character, “What can I say, Murdock. I’m impressive.”

He doesn’t hide his admiration in his reply, slowly taking the needle you hand him. Your mouth getting set to bite the back of your free hand, preparing to make sounds which will sound like shouts to him. Just like he does when the roles have been reversed.

Because while you stitch him up plenty. This is a first for him. Something which quickly bothers him.

“Don’t scar me,” you whisper.

And he has to smile, even if he can feel your blood on his thumb, even if he knows how much pain you’re in. “I’ll try, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t want to ask about other wounds, and doesn’t want to ask how you were hurt to begin with. He’s already balancing too much guilt, too many emotions.

You wince as he moves closer, thumb adjusting it’s position on your arm. It’s louder, more tinged with pain.

“I won’t hurt you,” he tries to soothe.

And he feels you look at him, more determined than before. Your hand lowering from your mouth to touch his wrist—an action which sends warmth straight to his chest.

“I know, Matt. I know you never would.”

Not Murdock. Just Matt.

He’s sure if you could hear the same as him, you’d hear how loud his heart has just become. How much it’s hammering.

Somehow, he manages to hide it, slowly sliding the needle through. Blocking out, as best as he could, your whimpers which cut through him. Each time he slides the needle through, your knee jumps near his thigh, your hand flexing near his waist.

When he’s done, you move from the counter, washing your hands before turning to him. Matt says nothing, letting you observe him, knowing you won’t believe he’s fine until you do. He’s used to it.

“I don’t need to tell you, because you’ll do it regardless, but get yourself a shirt. You know the drawer,” he says.

Your quiet okay, making him tilt his head. Hearing something off in you—like nerves. Like you’re thinking too hard.

“Hey…” your body halting in the doorway, turning back to face him. “I’m glad… I’m glad you felt you could come here. Felt safe to come to me… for help.”

You smile, he can tell. He hears it. “You’re the only one I feel safe to come to. With, I should say.”

His throat goes dry.

And then it rises it again. That feeling. The one which vibrates between the two of you when you’re both alone. The ones he’s growing tired of fighting.

Even more so when your face is close to his, when you’re fighting saying whatever you’re thinking once you’ve stitched or seen to his wounds.

“That so?”

And now, you’re in front of him, barely any space between the two of you. “Always, Murdock. There’s no one else. Not when I… it doesn’t matter.”

His hand reaches out, taking your wrist. Pleading without saying anything.

He listens to your sigh, the one you slowly release. “You have to know…” and he clings for more, not releasing your wrist, hearing you take another deep breath. “I like you, Matt. I feel safe with you, because I like you. I like lying in bed with you, I like being so close, hearing you breathing—because when I’m home, in my own bed, I don’t know if you’re alive.

“I like being in your weird apartment with no blinds or curtains, and I like being here when you need me. I like that you need me. So, there’s no one else, not that I can go to, not that I even need. Not when I like you, like you. When I think I could like you so much more that it becomes an entirely different word.”

He lets each word coat him. Waiting for his brain to remind him why stepping over the line is a bad idea, ready for the list he regularly makes so he doesn’t do so.

But it doesn’t come.

His brain broken, unable to compute anything other than your confession. Which is why his thumb rubs a soft circle into your wrist, his other hand sliding up over your cheek.

“Matt… you don’t have to…”

“I do.”

You take a breath.

“I can’t have you walking around my place tonight, in a shirt of mine, thinking I don’t feel the exact same…”

He hears your heart falter, a soft skip—one accompanied by a smile.

“But, I’m very dangerous to be with,” he whispers, closing the space between your bodies. “Which is why—“

“I know,” you say. Almost too quickly, hand sliding over his hip, fingers brushing his skin and scars. “But, all the same…”

And then you kiss him.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x female reader

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noaltbruh · 1 year

Note

hi you should totally do what its like do what its like to live with the bucci gang in a house all together thxx

*Kicks the air, giggles, screams into a pillow, throws up, dies and comes back to life just to write this post*

No bro I don't think you understand, you've just awoken my most unhinged side ever, literally I think about what it would be like to live with this wonderful family 24/h. There is nothing else in my brain, just them doing shit.

So yeah! I hope you enjoy ^^"

Life with the Bucci gang! 🐞🤐🔫🍊🍓⏪🎙 (or rather, a survival guide about living with them)

Alright, the main rule in this house is: "Don't kill each other. If you absolutely need to, at least hide the body well before it starts smelling like Mista"

Any other rule is either ignored, purposely broken, straight up not acknowledged, or only followed because Bruno said so and you don't disobey him.

Congratulations, you just got yourself free entertainment for the rest of your life and at any time of the day. Who needs Tv when you can just watch these guys do literally anything?

What are you in the mood for today? Trish kicking Mista with a shoe because he accidentally ruined her dress? Narancia blowing up with Aerosmith that one spider Fugo is afraid to squash? Giorno turning everything he sees into frogs? Abbacchio trying not to look like a total simp every time Bruno breathes?

With that being said, I hope you're not an introvert, my friend. There's no freaking way in hell they aren't going to drag you on their shenanigans. No, you can't choose, you will take part in whatever the heck they're doing, they're forcefully gonna make you tag along if you were to ooppose.

Buddy say goodbye to your privacy, that stopped existing as soon as you walked through the front door. 99% of the times there will ALWAYS be someone with you. Whether they're actually talking to you or are just in the same room as you doesn't matter. Rest assured that being alone will become a rare occurrence, no matter how antisocial you may be.

Don't try to lock the door of your room, they'll gladly destroy it and then ask Bruno to replace it with a zipper. Alternatively, some of them might even climb up from a window if they're feeling goofy that day.

I advice locking any snacks you may want to keep to yourself in a drawer or another place you know of. If you don't, there's a very high chance that whatever you were trying to keep to yourself will get stolen by the pistols sooner or later.

Another advice I can give you is to write down all important dates related to them, or little things you know they like. It must not be easy to remember those sorts of things when you live with so many people.

Most days you're gonna find Trish practising her singing in either the music room (yes they have a music room) or her own. Don't be shy and ask her if you can listen to her, she'll always reply with a yes :)

They have a very big and well taken care of garden. If you feel like spending some time with Giorno, helping him water the plants is a great idea! Prepare for lots of fun facts about gardening, while you're at it.

I suggest laying there particularly during summer nights. There's always a nice breeze to send the excessive heat away, and the stars look very nice from there. Someone else will most likely join you as well, you can stargaze together!

If you feel like having a conversation that requires more than two brain cells, Fugo's always there for you. He's used to some of the others calling him boring and such, but a nice chat about Latin, Politics, Philosophy or anything alongside those lines is always welcomed. Even if you don't know anything about those subjects but are willing to listen, he'll be happy.

Prepare for Narancia bursting in your room with a new dance, a song to listen to, or cool trick he's come up using Aerosmith, and way too much excitement. The latter one is only allowed if you're in the garden, but try to stop him from shooting any plants while you're there.

Drunk conversations with Abbacchio at 3 am. are a MUST. He'll only ever share his alcohol if he's feeling dizzy already, so wait until he starts getting a bit off and you're good to go. Do you remember anything you talked about after that night? Nope. Maybe you discussed the meaning of life, maybe you just yelled at the Tv watching old races of formula one, or maybe you've found the cure for cancer...But you'll never know.

Bruno is a safe space in the house. If you want to catch a break and take it easy from the others' chaos, he's the most reliable one. You don't have to necessarily do anything together if you don't want to, but his presence alone guaranteed to make you relax.

Don't go into the basement, please. It used to be a nice and tidy place where Bruno kept old stuff he didn't need anymore, but it progressively became more and more messy once the gang came along. Now legends say that old artifacts and mystical objects, such as Mista's hair, ended up there and were never found again.

The house has a lot of very pretty balconies with a wonderful view of the city. A couple of times a day you should go out and take some fresh air admiring Napoli, it's very soothing.

The roof is also a perfect place to if you look for a great sight of the town. If you're brave enough, you can climb up from one of the balconies. If you're not, that's fine: there's a safer ladder that will bring you there in the backyard, and you always have the support of the others if you felt scared anyway :)

Speaking of which...Yes, they may come off as extremely annoying and overbearing sometimes, but remember that once you settled in, you're family to them and there's no changing that.

They will ALWAYS be there for you, no matter what the problem or your reaction to it might be. Rest assured that you won't have to face it nor suffer alone, they'll all there to lend a hand for you and help you through it. Even if you're just feeling sad for no reason, someone will undoubtedly try to cheer you up, and succeed in doing so.

Sure, maybe some of them are not the best at expressing that they care, but they truly do and will show it to you in one way or another, whether it's direct or subtle, they will let you know you can count on them.

Movie and game nights are...Something else for sure! Every time one or two people get to pick what you're gonna play or watch, and since they have very different tastes, you can be sure as you can be that you'll enjoy yourself and have fun.

For example, one week you're watching the most gut-wrenching disturbing, complex and traumatizing movie of all time, picked by Abbacchio just to scare you all for his own amusement. Narancia will be screaming, Trish is acting like she's fine but is actually holding on to someone, Giorno is getting shushed by everyone because he's got a third eye and is somehow predicting the whole plot. A loud "SHUT THE FUCK UP, GIORNO!" from our goth man is gonna be obligatory.

The other week, instead, Mista and Narancia decided you were going to play Smash, and you WILL be playing Smash. Poor Bruno is trying to find the pattern to the attacks and fails to realize that those two dorks just spam random buttons hoping to win. Needless to say, they end up losing anyway. Also, Fugo almost threw the controller and broke the Tv a couple of times, but shhh it's okay they're rich, they can buy a new one.

The sweetest part about these "events", however, is that at the end of the night, you're all super tired. You'll just end up falling asleep all together in the salon, cuddling up against each other to feel warm, without even realizing it. The Morning after, whoever wakes up first usually makes breakfast for the rest, so you all also eat together before actually starting your day ^^

Get this through your system: no matter the time of the day, someone will be up. There isn't a single moment during those 24 hours in which they are all asleep. You'll find Mista sleeping at 3 pm on the living room couch, just to see him stealing salami from the fridge at 2 am while you were just trying to get a glass of water. He won't even let you leave and just ramble about his latest theory about salami.

Yes, your sleep routine is gonna get fucked up too, cope. Also, very often you'll hear noises coming from other rooms, although it's probably just Bruno and Abbacchio banging like there's no tomorrow . When that happens, spend time with someone until you both fall asleep, or get yourself something to block out the noise. (I'd choose the first option, but you do you).

The house has a sort of balcony that acts as an entrance to the garden. On some nights, you may find someone (usually the quietest members) hanging around there. Stop to talk to them for a while, they're weirdly more open about their feelings at that time of the day.

Mista, Narancia and Trish are going to CONSTANTLY ask you to hang out, these guys enjoy the outdoors way too much. Before you know it, you're dressed up to go party in the hugest, loudest, most crowded disco you're ever seen.

Or maybe they're dragging you to a bar and gossip about people all night, OR they're planning to infiltrate in some rich guy's party they only found out about because Trish is famous and knows way too many people.

Don't worry if you get nervous though, they'll stick around by your side to make sure you feel comfortable, and they'll leave if they see you starting get overwhelmed. All of you need to have a good time or it's no fun.

Group reading with Fugo and Giorno. I repeat: group reading with Fugo and Giorno.

Okay, the stuff they recommend might not be the most exciting, but I can guarantee you that if you manage to actually read it, the discussions and conversations you're going to have about it will make up for it. You can basically see their eyes light up and soon as you begin talking and discussing its themes, you'll find yourself carried about by their excitement without even realizing it.

While it's something they usually do alone, sometimes Bruno and Abbacchio will take you fishing with them. It's a complete moment of chill away from the excitement of your everyday life, not to mention that Bucciarati is a great fisherman and dinner that night will be delicious.

If you think these guys are enough chaotic as they are, brace yourself for Holidays time.

Get ready to help decorate the whole house, which, considering its dimensions, is no easy job. The best thing you can do in this case is go with the flow and, most of all, follow Narancia's lead: the two of you will be setting up everything for even DAYS, if it's necessary.

Prepare for constant snowball fights, dudes blasting Christmas music ridiculously loud, alcohol disappearing at an even faster rate than usual, presents flying all over the salon aand lastly...An actual quiet Christmas night where you'll simply be watching a movie together and drinking hot cocoa in front of the fireplace.

Don't be tricked, the next day the extroverted trio is already asking you to go with on them on a Christmas themed party. Good luck.

You guys fight over the best spot under the air conditioner during Summer time, and the winner always turns out to be Trish. Alternately, if someone's able to compromise enough, you'll go get something fresh to change the mood a bit.

One last thing I'd like to mention is that, in the middle of the living room, there is a big frame with all eight of you smiling together. If things ever get rough, look up and remember that your family is always there for you :)

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witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐯𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 🌱🌿

a/n: since I’ve got up dating Harley would include, I’ll do Poison! Also I think I should have warnings that reader is depicted in this universe as ... more than unhinged. It’s a tad dark is all I’m trying to say.

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

SFW🌹

⋆ You had heard of the three women before; each had their own reputation, and rightly so. Not only were they intimidating but they were fearsome competitors.

⋆ As your persona, you had been planning this heist for almost two years now. Ever since the banker sniffed their nose up at you. It had become an obsession, you knew that. But these people deserved it. The higher ups. The one percent. But also the general public. Some of them deserved it too...

⋆ “Hey! Who are you?” Harley asked, her Brooklyn accent echoing throughout the chamber.

“I’m the gal whose robbing this place,” you stated, flinging the dagger and knicking Harley’s ear. She yelped, but you didn’t hear much else. You had already started running, sprinting down the narrow hall.

They caught upto you quickly. Trapping you at the end of the hall, dammit, you thought. Wishing they had chosen tomorrow night, instead of this one.

“So, what are we gonna do with her?” Harley asked, her bat hanging limply in her hand.

“I have an idea,” purred Catwoman.

“And why should we even let her join?” asked Ivy, her gaze staring intently; looking you up, and down.

“You should let me join because I want to contribute to the chaos,” you replied simply. A coy smile toying at your lips. You could feel their gazes shifting, they deliberated. But the final word was from Catwoman. Her sultry voice cutting through the conversation.

“Well I like her, she’s got a good aim.”

“Ha, yeah...” Harley agreed, dazing dreamily at you.

⋆ Poison Ivy didn’t like you much at first. She thought you would betray the group, and she was right. You were planning on it. To rob them of their shares of the heist money.

⋆ But the group of women gave you a sense of purpose. A place to call home, people to talk to. Even if their advice isn’t always sound.

⋆ Obvious your image would have to be fleshed out, your colours chosen, costume, name.

⋆ You had always liked plants, herbs and flowers. Before meeting Ivy, they were apart of your life. They were kept on window sills, on ledges, in corners, on benches. Anywhere you could shove a plant, there one was. But seeing Ivy’s home. To say there was a lot of green, would be an understatement.

⋆ She always makes sure you’re not hurt after some good ol’ criminal activity. Always insisting that she could spread some aloe vera on your cut or wound.

⋆ Harley was a bit jealous of your romantic feelings for Ivy. For the first few months it was like a love triangle. And Catwoman hated every second of it. You didn’t want to upset Harley, but you knew you Ivy understood you.

⋆ You both enjoy cooking, but you moreso. You’re very intune with herbs and make some great meals.

⋆ She would never let anyone hurt you, and if they did, there would be hell to pay

⋆ You have an equal say in the group now, you’ve proven yourself to be a great leader but also a strong friend

⋆ Catwoman is a bit distant with anyone anyway, but you do feel the least connected with her

⋆ Favourite things to do together include: ➢ travelling ➢ babysitting Harley ➢ collecting plants and naming them ➢ going to restaurants to try and find the best vegitarian burger ➢ watching movies/tv shows with female leads that focus on revenge, parental issues, female empowerment, etc., (gone girl, sharp objects, buffy the vampire slayer, jennifer’s body, mamma mia) ➢ foiling the plants of big companies ➢ creating the perfect playlists together ➢ walking anywhere in nature, but particularly small strolls where you can stop and smell the roses

⋆ You and Ivy love having sunspots in your place and will go around everywhere collecting things that will enhance the little rainbow spots

⋆ Ivy is more introverted and prefers to be away from people, which goes great with your personality. You think the general public are morons.

⋆ Isn’t big on public displays of affection, but will hold your hand and kiss your lips/cheek/forehead.

⋆ Likes to lean her forehead against yours, nose touching, eyelashes tickling each other

NSFW 🌼

⋆ Poison Ivy is a dom, and I wholeheartedly believe so.

⋆ She likes to restrain, to keep you from touching her or yourself. Ivy yearns to hear your whines and moans. Your begging turns her on.

⋆ Favourite place to do it is in nature/sunlight. Might sound cliche, but Ivy really does prefer it.

⋆ She isn’t very intune with dirty talk, but does like to hear you say things. Your voice turns is a major turn on, and

⋆ Ivy likes it when you leave marks over her body, she likes knowing that you have a claim to her

⋆ She would gladly help you with your mummy issues.

⋆ You’ve both considered having a threesome with Harley, but you both came to the conclusion that she would catch feelings.

⋆ Likes biting, both done to her and from her

⋆ She likes having your smell on and around her

⋆ Will leave a hidden hickey on your neck to remind you of her <3

⋆ Leaves lipstick kiss marks on your clothes

⋆ She likes to tease you in public, but refuse to do anything until you get home. This drives you insane, and has you pleading to get home quicker.

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yellowloid · 11 months

Note

What is your favourite out of all of your fics? Your baby? The one you're most proud of? Which was the most challenging? Which one do you get the most surprising comments about? Which one have you reread yourself the most? 😘

bestieee what a bunch of interesting questions, let's dive right in!!!

(also sorry for such a late reply i started drafting this like WEEKS ago and then life got in the way :/)

What is your favourite out of all of your fics? Your baby? The one you're most proud of?

definitely 'all's well that ends well (to end up with you)'. if you know me you know how much this fic means to me, for very obvious milex reasons but also for personal reasons. i'm so fond of it i can't even find the right words to describe the feeling... it just means so much to me. the whole vibe, the atmosphere, the aesthetic of the french countryside and their love growing and blooming through the years, only becoming stronger and more intense no matter the ups and downs... the little moments, the fluff and the angst and the emotional smut, alex's proposal speech, miles' reaction and everything they went through before and after that... i'm just so in love with it. from start to finish.

Which was the most challenging?

mmm, probably 'of loving at will, of loving till death' or 'give me all your love so i can fill you up with hate'. the last part of satin and lace because i wrote it during the summer and i usually have much more difficulty writing when it's hot outside (seems like it doesn't make sense but i swear it does). i knew exactly how i wanted it to turn out, especially some scenes that were oh-so-clear in my head, but i had to find a way to connect everything. especially because i'd set the standard so high for myself after AWTEW and because i wanted to give the most satisfying and coherent ending to my series that i love with all my heart djghfggsgf. this fic was a bit of a study in aesthetics, also, and that led to it requiring so much research - which was incredibly fun but also time-consuming! i have to say it's not one i reread that often (i should do something about that), but i'm really proud of how it turned out in the end.

my big bang fic, on the other hand, gave me a bit of trouble because of obvious reasons - that is, the deadline i had to meet for it lmao. i usually don't have too many problems with deadlines in my personal life, but when it comes to my writing... i'm a slow writer. i don't want to rush through things, i don't want to feel like i have to. so i was a bit scared about that, and that only made me slower kfjghdhfhs but in the end it turned out to be one of my favourite fics i've ever written + the fandom response has been INCREDIBLE. literally mind-blowing. so i really couldn't have asked for anything better <3

Which one do you get the most surprising comments about?

again, probably my big bang fic because people are so horny for it and i've had some pretty unhinged feedback (which i absolutely love skfjdhghshf give me all the feral comments you have!!!!!! i'll cherish them and you forever!!!!!!!)

Which one have you reread yourself the most?

has to be either my big bang fic or 'terra incognita' - because they're just as fun (and hot) to reread as they were to write!

thank you so much for the lovely questions bestie 💖

#writing asks #answered

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pashminalamb · 1 year

Note

First of all I wanna say that I’m sorry for disappearing like that. Especially at the worst time too. I really did not expect so much to happen while I was gone. But that’s not an excuse though I promise. But yeah. Tumblr. Is very much being super annoying rn. I can understand the frustration because all the effort and time you put into something just for it to not work or backfire or fall short sucks. A lot. It hurts too. And it’s just overall exhausting, emotionally and in general. I didn’t even know tumblr could shadow ban you like what the heck. But honestly this might be a little bit of a good thing. Ao3 is super chill and has a bunch more options for writers in all aspects as compared to tumblr. Tumblr is becoming much like the new systems everywhere where the most liked content or the most popular content is uploaded first and what not. It’s really exhausting sorting all that out , I know, I’ve tried. But whatever you decide to do know that you have my full and complete support Belle!!! I honestly don’t where or when or how often you post fics I’ll be reading them as soon as I find them all the same. And even if you decided to take a break or go in a hiatus or just not write for a while I’d still be here you know? This is just me reminding you that you’re human too and yes I came for the fics but I’m staying for Belle. Let me know when you start posting/make your ao3 account so I can find it love. Take breaks!!! Drink water!!!! Eat somethings!!!! Rest love!!! I’m not the only anon that wants you to be happy and healthy and well-rested you know? How are you? Like how’re your days going? Is uni going well? How’s the gym? Reply when you can but only when you want to and feel like though okay? Take your time okay sweetheart? I’m not going anywhere anytime soon love ❤️❤️❤️.

- ✨ anon

Please don’t apologize cause you have nothing to be sorry for love, and it really isn’t that big of a deal tbh starry!♡ You had exams and those priorities come first.

It does make me sad that everything i worked for isn’t going so well, but at the same time I wanna look at it the positive way. Maybe it was a way of saying ‘Belle take a break.’ Or a way of saying that ‘You need to get off tumblr cause your content isn’t meant to be here.’ It does hurt when my work is not recognized cause all this is my own content. No one inspires me to write these. Just my ass pushing myself and my followers telling me that they like my work is what drives me to make these, and maybe cause I read them sometimes to comfort myself.

Me ranting under the cut and I'm gonna really different that what I normally do cause this is my uncut and unhinged opinion - which can probably make you dislike me as well

Honestly, this place isn’t cutting it for me anymore. Followers come easy but the number of likes I get speaks a lot about their support (most of them. Not all), you’re not gonna believe it, but when I wrote false south, I was sad to see the number of likes go up. Like sure, I wrote it for the sake of angst, but people just really like writings with a lot of sex here- not shaming anyone but it can’t be all about sex right? Not all works are smut, but like 98% of the top posts are. And my writing isn’t just about smut… it’s to do with capturing everything human. and being completely blunt about the system, i write smut to see how many likes it makes compared to my other works. It's a selling point to make more followers and likes than genuinely enjoying the experience of it. And I get bored of it very easily after some time which is why i write longer fics so that it can be the best of both. But now I have a pref for heavy plot, cause that's where most of my real writing lies. Erotica constantly gets boring and i don't want to write it all the time. (and sometimes you have to force yourself to do it just so you can keep up with other authors as well cause this is like a pressure field of writing tbh) And cause of that my content is not meant for this space. And it was getting on my nerves to see that “writings” with "Twitter links". Like literally twitter links. Something that you’ve not even created on your own, gets more likes than an author who has put in effort into their writing and it really shows. It's one of the reasons I stopped reading fanfiction here. And another thing that bothers me are some of the other authors and readers who want to white-knight characters and impose drama and discourse along with hate. I'm much better off without that and I know the worth of my writing in comparison to that. Not to mention, some of the characters are so... misinterpreted. Like first, we're writing for anime characters, second... most of them are japanese. And if you study about japanese culture or did more research, they're not very open to the idea of PDA. In europe and america, things are different with pda and people are more open. But in Japan? things are very different cause they don't show much pda. but then again. its fanfiction and anyone can write what they want cause its not published work and its a form of therapy to some while for someone else it offers a lot of comfort as well as expressing fantasies and wanting to do new things but not in reality.

Speaking for my work - My plots are heavy, thought through and that’s where the quality of writing kicks in. Works with quality on the other hand are difficult to find here. So yeah, I'm moving to ao3. I'd rather my content be seen and discovered late than being hidden. And besides, I'm not the only author to get shadow banned. There are many others who have gone through the same thing and they've taken to ao3. And I'm really happy that you're staying for me, Starry and thank you for the support you're giving me. I honestly didn't think that people would wanna come back and talk to me on my blog (which is something i'm fine with as well) but I'm very surprised that some of you do want to interact 0)^^(0 And I'm really thankful for that. So thank you starry and everyone ♡ it means a lot to me.

i'm thinking abt a username to use so that I can start posting my works on ao3... i already have my account but I was thinking about starting a new one so that I can start over. and the first thing to be uploaded is ocean hues. I'm doing great! Just tired and feeling blue a bit this week about my account being shadow banned but at the same time kinda relieved cause I'm moving out- sorta. Gym's going well too! I got shoulder cuts (i'm really happy with the progress). You're really sweet yk that? ♡ *pulls cheek adoringly*

#belle.☏#.moot🍦: ✨ anon

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hxwks-gf · 4 years

Text

» 𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙

𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

𝚠𝚌: 𝟹.𝟻𝚔

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚖!𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢. 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚝𝚘𝚘

ao3 link

“Captain, please! I’m ready to be back in the field, Hange already cleared me for dutyㅡ”

Levi whirls around to face you and jabs a finger into the center of your chest, his stone grey eyes turning to slits in frustration.“You are not ready for the field, [L/N],” he snarls. “You have proven your recklessness enough to guarantee that you will never see outside Wall Rose again.”

You were momentarily taken aback by his sudden change in temperament; you were always so used to his disinterested stoicism. The sting of tears in your eyes forces you to look down at your feet in shame. Crying in front of the captainㅡyou had never felt more humiliated in your life. But he had no right to lock you up in the city while the rest of your squad was out beyond the wall, risking their lives. Your place was with them, and Levi knew it.

“I’m a better Scout than half the regiment,” you finally say through gritted teeth, still staring at the ground. “You think I’m reckless? Then go bench Mikasa too, while you’re at it.”

“Now you’re giving me orders?” he replies, dangerously soft.

You meet his eyes. His unreadable expression has returned. “I’m telling you to treat me fairly,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Life isn’t fair,” Levi snaps, turning away from you with a flourish of his cape. “I thought someone as smart as you would have figured that out by now.” He doesn’t stay long enough for you to spit whatever insult you had waiting on the tip of your tongue. You could do nothing but fume as Levi stalks away from you to rejoin the regiment.

Your cheeks burn with shame as you feel the eyes of the rest of the squad looking back at you in sympathy, but the sound of the horses’ hooves trotting away on the cobblestones tells you that no one is willing to stick up for you.

You take a hesitant step forward, gazing after them, focusing on the back of Levi’s head. His dark hair was always the easiest to pick out in a crowd. As if he knew you were watching him, he turns his chin over his shoulder and those grey eyes meet your own again. A silent conversation drifts between the two of you, until he finally disappears around the corner, taking whatever he had planned to say with himㅡleaving you alone in the middle of the street.

The sky is dark by the time you hear their return. The absence of their words was enough to tell you that the mission didn’t go as planned, and there were bound to be reports of casualties. You stand at the window of your quarters, looking down at the group of soldiers trudging along the street. Your eyes scan the faces quickly until you land on Levi’s, and the wild pace of your heartbeat lessens. He always came back. But this time he looks as if he had truly taken a beating; his face is solemn and splattered with blood. Blood that hasn’t evaporated yet, meaning it isn’t Titan blood. It’s the blood of a fallen comrade.

A sinking feeling plagues the pit of your stomach as you turn away from the window and lower yourself into a chair at the table, waiting for him. A few minutes later, a knock sounds at your door.

“Come in,” you call to him.

Levi doesn’t meet your eyes as he appears and closes the door behind him, pulling his green cloak from his shoulders and dropping it to the ground in a heap. He says nothing as he unhooks his ODM gear and strips it carelessly from his body, slinging it over the back of your bed.

“Levi?” you offer, keeping your words gentle and calm.

“Don’t,” he says, voice low with sorrow. He stands in front of the fireplace, keeping his back to you. You notice his hands flexing at his sides, as if trying to keep control of himself.

So you say nothing else and stay put at the table, waiting for him to speak.

“I know you’re a better Scout than half the regiment,” Levi finally says, still facing away from you. The shadows from the fire dance along the walls of the room. “I know you can take care of yourself.”

“So why am I on house arrest? I should be out there with you, fightingㅡ”

“Because,” he snaps, turning his head sharply to the side, “if anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

There it was. The confession hangs in the air as you go rigid at the table, fingernails digging into your palms. You and Levi had been doing this dance for years nowㅡbut neither of you were good at it. Missed opportunities, stolen chancesㅡthat about summed up the relationship.

“You can’t protect me forever,” you find yourself saying, slipping out of the chair and walking over to him by the fireplace. He still doesn’t look at you. You take a deep breath and simply stand beside him, the sleeve of his undershirt brushing against your arm. “Not in this world.”

“I know,” he mutters, staring into the flames. “Every time the regiment leaves on a mission, less and less return. And after that day, when I found you covered in your own blood, I had already subconsciously made the decision to keep you safe, no matter what. Even if it meant locking you up.”

“Look at me,” you command him, gripping his shoulder and forcing him to turn. His grey eyes are bloodshot and partnered with dark circles underneath them. The blood on his cheek is dark, like a tattoo on his skin. You reach up and trace it, flakes of it falling off at your touch.

Levi stares at you with his eyebrows pulled together. He extends his fingers to run them through your hair, before coming to rest at the spot where your shoulder gracefully curved into your neck. His thumb draws idle circles over your clavicle, sending an onslaught of goosebumps over your skin.

You lower your hand and look into his eyes. Such sad, lonely eyes. Eyes that truly have seen too much bloodshed, too much loss, too much sorrow. All you want to do is make it all disappear. “Let me come on the next mission,” you plead, entwining your fingers with his. His skin is cold. “You know I belong out there, beside you.”

His dark hair falls over his forehead as he nods, closing his eyes in defeat. A beat passes, and he glares at you. “Why do you have to be such a stubborn brat?”

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile. “Because you taught me not to take anyone’s shit, Captain.”

Levi rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. His fingers travel from your neck and down your arm, until his hand is gripping your own and he’s pulling you towards your bed.

“You know how much I like it when you call me ‘Captain’,” he growls, pushing you down gently until you’re laying on your back with your legs hanging off the edge. Levi nudges them apart and looms over you, the blood decorating his face making him look feral and unhinged. It excites you in a way you never imagined. He ducks down and presses a fervent kiss to your lips, wasting no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He tastes like salt and sweat, but there’s a lingering sweetness as he kisses you. His hands are braced on either side of your head. Your fingers are trying to unhook his belt and pull up his shirt, earning a low chuckle from him that reverberates past your lips and down your throat.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He reaches down and takes your wrists in his hands. He pins them above your head with ease, gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes, ridden with lust. “You’re already a brat outside of this roomㅡcan’t you just behave for once?”

“Maybe,” you purr, tilting your chin up in a silent plea for him to resume kissing you. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Levi lets out another growl that sets off a white-hot fire in your core. He shoves his tongue in your mouth again with a groan, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Brat,” he calls you again against your mouth, unable to hide the feral need behind it. You press your thighs together to create just a little friction to ease the growing pressure between them, but Levi is quick enough to slip a hand down to keep them apart.

“What did I say?” he says, leaning back to look at you beneath him. His eyes glint in the firelight. “Behave.”

“Or what?” you taunt, jutting your chin out defiantly.

Levi’s nostrils flare and the hand above your head disappears from your wrists, moving to grip your chin with surprising speed and agility. He holds your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. The pressure between your thighs is unbearable now, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of begging. Levi’s hold on your chin loosens, sliding down to wrap around your throat. He’s enjoying this too much.

He leans down and takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently but firmly. “Behave, or I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” Levi’s eyes glitter as he traces your swollen lip with the pad of his thumb. “Unless that’s what you really want.”

You say nothing, but your tongue darts out to wet your lips. A breath hitches in his throat as he watches it, his hand still wrapped around your throat. He squeezes, and the blood rushes to your ears. You could feel yourself becoming a soaking mess right underneath him.

“Teach me a lesson,” you say breathlessly, almost pleadingly. “Captain.”

With a wild snarl, Levi’s hand disappears from your throat and hooks around the back of your knee, roughly shoving your legs apart. He pushes his fingers underneath your shirt and grasps at your breasts, momentarily dropping his head against your navel and groaning in lust. You throw your head back in pleasure as he pinches your nipple, already peaked and stiff for him.

“Get this off,” he commands, withdrawing his hands and gesturing to your shirt. You obey, pulling it up and over your head. He runs his tongue across his teeth as you lay exposed to him, the dim light from the dying fire illuminating the curves and dips of your torso. Levi braces himself over you again, sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot of your neck. As he works with his warm tongue and teeth, he frees a hand to tug at your pants. A silent command.

You shimmy out of them to the best of your ability as he marks your neck. You now lay completely naked underneath him, wholly at his mercy. A pained moan escapes you as he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot, and his hips push against yours in earnest. You could feel his hard-on bulging through his pants, sending dark shivers straight down your spine and into your core.

“Please,” you whisper into his ear, his dark hair tickling your nose. You can’t take it anymore. His lustful scent invades your sensesㅡall you can smell, hear, see, and breathe was him.

“Are you finally begging?” he growls, pulling back to look at you.

“Don’t you like it when I beg?” you ask him, dizzy with desire. You want him so bad. So bad, you know you’ll do just about anything for him.

Levi’s throat bobs as he swallows, but he quickly regains himself. “Yes,” he says, pulling himself off of you entirely. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him strip his sweat-stained shirt over his head, revealing the sharp and defined muscles hidden beneath. Without breaking eye contact with you, Levi unhooks his belt and slides it from his pants, folding it in half. Your eyes widen as you realize his intention.

“Turn around.”

You do so without any hesitation, pressing your chest and stomach into the bed, ass exposed. As you rest your head on your crossed arms, Levi gently trails the leather belt over your skin, starting from the middle of your shoulder blades and ending at your backside. He’s completely silent. You shiver with the anticipation, wondering when he’ll actuallyㅡ

CRACK!

A pained but pleasured wail escapes you as he brutally whips your ass, the delicious sting reverberating throughout your entire body. You hear him let out a stifled moan, and the faint touch of leather returns. You’re absolutely dripping now, feeling the beads of your slick sliding down your thighs. One of his hands moves to grip your hip to steady you. You can feel each individual fingertip digging into your skin.

“Beg.”

The single word is enough to send you into a lust-filled haze. Before you could answer, Levi brings the belt down again, cracking across your skin. You cry out for him again, a mix of sobs and moans. “P-please,” you manage to choke out between pleasured sobs. “Captainㅡ”

“Fuck,” you hear him groan, and the sound of the belt clattering to the ground echoes through the room. Both of his hands are on you now, one still attached to your hip and the other sliding up the center of your spine to rest at the base of your skull, fingers wrapping around your nape and shoving your face into the blankets. You’re not sure when he found the time to slip his pants down, but your ass bucks toward him once you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “Beg for my cock, brat,” he hisses.

“Please give it to me,” you plead, words muffled by the blanket. “Fill me with it, Captain.”

His fingers fist in your hair and Levi roughly jerks your head up by the roots. His chest presses against your back as he leans over you to press his lips to your ear. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please!” you cry out, nearly sobbing.

He releases you, your head falling back into the sheets. His hands splay over your hips and you instinctively lift your ass higher for him. You hear him chuckle darkly. “So eager,” he murmurs, running his palm over the smooth skin of your backside. Without warning, he lands a swift smack against it, earning another sinful moan from you. “It seems like you enjoy the pain.”

You can barely think straight. The pressure in your core was too much to bear, too much to handle. “Levi,” you pant, calling him by his name now, “pleaseㅡ”

He slams his cock into your entrance without another word. You tip your head back and let loose a string of moans and curses, a symphony of pleasure for his ears only. He slides his member out painfully slow, until only the tip is left. Levi pauses there, listening to your incoherent sobs, until he snaps his hips forward and slams so deep into you again.

“God,” you manage to gasp out, breathing heavily. He begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace with his hands still gripping your hips tightly. The onslaught of pleasure is almost too much for you to handle as your vision starts to blur with tears, mouth open in an eternal expression of ecstasy as Levi fucks you senseless. “Godㅡfuckㅡ”

“You’re right,” he grunts, the wet slap of skin hitting skin filling the room, “I am your god.”

“Y-yes,” you moan, fisting the sheets in your hands. “You are.”

Levi’s thrusts don’t falter as his hands disappear from your hips and snake around your torso. With one swift motion, he’s lifting you up and pressing your back against his chest, sitting on his haunches. He bounces his hips to keep you bobbing on his cock, his muscled arms wrapping around you and finding your throat again. His breath tickles your skin as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, suckling the skin and branding you as his.

“Fuck!” You’re overwhelmed by the multiple stimulations, feeling the pull in your core growing hotter and hotter.

Levi growls in your ear, a string of saliva stretching from his lips to your skin. His fingers constrict around your throat. “You make the sweetest noises,” he growls into your shoulder, quickening the pace of his thrusts. “Sing for me.”

You do as he says, letting out another wail of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest against the crook of his neck.

Levi hums in approval and slows down, much to your disappointment. You were so closeㅡa few more seconds, and you would have been a complete mess in his arms. But Levi isn’t stupid; he’s figured out your tells and knows just when to stop in order to drive you absolutely crazy for his cock. He pulls out of you completely and gently adjusts you on the bed so you’re laying on your back, looking up at him with eyes that are feral with desire. He runs his hands over your thighs in admiration, leaning down to leave a trail of nips and kisses along your navel.

“Levi,” you softly plead, reaching for him.

He slides up and hovers over you, dark hair falling over his sweaty forehead. His grey eyes blink slowly at you in the dark, the light of the embers glinting off of them. Your hands travel over his muscled arms, broad chest, taut shoulders, until they come to rest on his cheeks. You cradle them gently, and the two of you stay like that for a few momentsㅡjust staring at each other.

He speaks first. “If anything ever happened to youㅡif anyone tried to take you away from meㅡI will tear this entire world apart with my bare hands.”

“Why?” you ask, pulling his face closer and pressing your forehead against his.

“You know why,” Levi murmurs, his hot breath fanning over your mouth. You kiss him, running your tongue over his teeth.

“I want to hear it,” you whisper, pulling away. His cock is twitching against your entrance again. You wrap your legs around his, urging him to slip inside of youㅡand he does, with a tight groan. Levi dips his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to fuck you again, slowly and carefully. You’re pressed so tightly against him, you’re not sure where your skin ends and his begins. You move as one, thrusting together languidly, sharing breaths and holding onto each other as if even the slightest amount of slack would make the other disappear.

“Say it,” you plead, lifting his head up to look him in the eyes. His jaw is set as he holds back his groans, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. “Please.”

“Goddammit,” Levi moans and closes his eyes. His hips falter in their thrusts, his breathing becoming ragged.

“Look at me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his ebony hair. He obeys, opening his eyes again and finding yours. They’re glazed over with lust as he nears his climax. “Tell me.”

“You’re mine,” he finally gasps out, his entire body becoming tense and taut. “Do you understand me?” His thrusts become erratic and quick, slapping against your skin. “Mine.” He bares his teeth like an animal, and you feel the tip of his cock press against that spongy part deep inside of youㅡsending you right over the edge. You cry out out his name over and over again as you ride through your glorious orgasm, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life.

“Fuckㅡnghㅡgoddammit,” Levi growls, gasping for breath as you clench around his cock. A few seconds later, you feel him explode inside of you, filling you with his seed. Droplets of sweat fall from his forehead and drip onto your cheeks.

He pulls out of you with a groan. You lay there, spent and exhausted, while he fetches a wet cloth from the washbasin and proceeds to clean you up. He works silently and diligently, making sure you’re pristine before he rinses the cloth and hangs it up to dry. Your eyelids are already drooping as you listen to him clean himself up at the washbasin, cracking your eyes open again when you feel the bed dip as he climbs into it and settles in beside you.

“So I’m yours, huh?” you mindlessly murmur into his chest, draping an arm over his torso. “No one else’s?”

“Don’t start with me,” he sighs, exhaustion lacing his words. “Go to sleep.”

“Should I beg again?”

“Do you want stable duty for the next three months?”

You laugh. The warmth of the fire and the afterglow of your love-making is a match made in heaven for a good night’s sleep, the dreaming world calling your name over and over again. But you need to hear Levi say it againㅡsober, not just in a sex-fueled craze. “Just once, and I’ll leave it alone.”

Levi doesn’t say anything right away, but his arm that’s curled around your shoulders pulls you in closer. You feel his cool lips press themselves to the top of your head, and he inhales the scent of your hair.

“You’re mine,” he finally breathes, so softly that you’re afraid you’ve imagined it. But a few moments pass and he pulls away. “Brat.”

A ghost of a smile graces your face, hidden in the dark. It was enough.

i guess i officially write for captain levi now, and i’m not even mad.

@baroque-baby @pimpnamedslickback1 since you guys asked for it specifically

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #SO SPICY #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #captain levi smut #captain levi #captain levi x you #captain levi x reader

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

The smile on your face was stiff and insincere as Marcus Boyd walked you back to your car. As much as you loathed the asshole, you needed him and that meant paying him a personal visit in his home in Connecticut. He was a very successful defense lawyer, on his way to becoming a managing partner in a prestigious New York law firm in a few years. Because of his career, he had access to many seedy characters which is what you were here to leverage. You needed an unregistered gun, and he had connections who could provide you one. If that meant putting up with him for an hour, you were willing to do it.

“Y/N,” he said with a slick smile, standing next to you as you unlocked your car door. “It was wonderful to see you again.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you replied. “It never is. But we do what we have to, right?”

His eyes narrowed, shifting to something menacing. “I forgot how tactless you can be.”

You gave him a mocking smile. “Here’s hoping you won’t have to see me again soon.”

“Next time you need something, don’t come to me,” he warned.

“Same goes for you.” You leveled him with a cold look. “When can I expect a call?”

“A few days.”

“Fine.” You got into your car and shut the door, feeling relieved at no longer being around the slimy bastard.

Marcus was someone you met at college in your first year. He was a rich entitled sophomore, about to flunk out. You were good at hacking into things, and had managed to get your hands on a few exams Marcus desperately needed to pass. That was the beginning of your partnership with him. You helped him graduate and he paid you a lot of money in return. Thanks to him and his friends, you were able to get your degree with minimal student loans. Although the two of you despised each other, the threat of mutual destruction meant you trusted him to keep your search for a registered gun to himself and he trusted you not to spill his secrets.

You started driving back into the city, your mind focused on the road ahead when your phone pinged. You glanced down. An unknown number was calling you. If it was like the other anonymous calls you received, they would call you a fucking bitch as soon as you picked up and hang up on you. You had no doubt that it was Adam calling, considering the calls started after he was released, which only proved how unhinged he was. A smarter man would have been on his best behaviour when out on bail but he was so filled with rage he didn’t even bother to temper his actions. You had already reached out to the prosecutor and informed them of the calls, but you doubted it would lead to anything. Most likely Adam was using disposable phones, which meant there was no direct proof he was the one making the calls. You were scared, of course you were, which was why you’d reached out to Marcus even though you didn’t like the prick. It’s not like you could rely on Trevor, the bodyguard Roger had assigned to keep you safe. He was lazy and not very bright, and even if he was good at what he did Valiant wouldn’t be paying for your protection indefinitely. All of that meant you had to take this matter into your own hands. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only way for you to feel safe again.

Your thoughts turned to Billy, something you actively tried to avoid, but there wasn’t anything else to distract your mind away from him. It had been a week since you blocked him, and as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. He’d been a part of your life for almost a year and you really enjoyed his company before things got messy between you two. If you hadn’t developed feelings for him and then caught him on a date with Dinah Madani, you guys would probably still be sleeping together – but you did, and seeing him with someone like her made it crystal clear his lack of feelings for you. The truth hurt like hell, but you’d get over it. You were a realist after all. You knew he was out of your league and there was nothing you could do to make Billy want you.

The speaker on your car piped up with a message notification. It was a text from Davina, reminding you of the girls night out planned for tomorrow night. It was a mutual friend’s birthday and the plan was for all of you to go to a new club that recently opened. You were looking forward to it, mostly as it would keep your mind off Adam but also because you were hoping to go out and meet someone new. No doubt Billy had already found someone else to fill your spot on his weekly rotation but you weren’t built like him and needed time to process your lingering feelings. You still weren’t over him, but you were ready to move on.

Now you just needed to get back home and come up with a reason as to how you lost your bodyguard in case Roger asked. Somehow, though, you doubted Trevor would willingly tell Roger about you disappearing for a few hours so you weren’t too worried. No one knew about your connection with Marcus and you intended to keep it that way.

***

The next evening you, Davina, and a few others were at Pravda, a new club downtown, to celebrate your friend Kiran’s birthday. You were wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit paired with silver stilettos, while your lips were painted maroon. Choosing to keep focus on the lips, you had ensured the rest of your make-up was light and dewy which went well with your straightened hair. It had taken a lot of double-sided tape to make sure your breasts were in check in your outfit but it was worth the effort. You felt like a proper goddess tonight, surrounded by your beautiful friends at a private table in the VIP lounge.

An hour later you were buzzed, giggling and laughing as you and a few others headed back to the private booth from the dance floor. After dancing up a storm, you guys were all parched and desperate for a drink. Davina was holding your hand as she led you through the crowds but you knew something was wrong when she stopped unexpectedly. You thought you heard her swear but you couldn’t be sure due to the loud music.

“What’s-” The words died in your mouth when you realized what Davina was staring at. Billy fucking Russo, sitting at your table, chatting it up with Kiran who was sitting next to him. The moment you saw them, you felt red-hot anger flood over you. While Kiran was a good friend, she wasn’t someone you confided in. She had no idea you’d been sleeping with Billy so you didn’t blame her for flirting with him. But Billy, god you hated him! There was no way his showing up at the same club as you was a co-incidence, which meant he was purposely here to flirt with your friends. To hurt you.

“Want to leave?” Davina asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied in a clipped tone.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s here because he wants to piss me off.”

“I thought you said he was cool about the break-up.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Thought he was.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You didn’t answer, instead taking the lead to walk past her. You returned to your seat across from where he and Kiran were sitting. Davina came to sit beside you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as his molten eyes trailed down to your breasts, lingering on you. Dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, designer no doubt, and a pair of black trousers and open leather jacket, he looked absolutely beautiful with his perfectly styled hair and trimmed beard.

“Hey guys, this is Billy,” Kiran greeted, eyeing him appreciatively. “He ordered us more champagne. Isn’t that so nice of him?”

On the table in front of you was an expensive bottle, chilling in ice. You quirked your eyebrow. Apparently Billy was in the mood to splurge on your friends. “That’s nice of him,” you remarked noncommittally.

“Billy, this is Davina and Y/N,” Kiran said.

His eyes were locked with yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I know Y/N very well.”

Kiran turned to look at you. “You do?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Through work.”

Billy leaned forward, his smoldering gaze holding you hostage. “Y/N and I are very good friends.”

“Acquaintances,” you corrected.

As if sensing the tension in the air, Kiran pulled away from Billy. Meanwhile, he picked up the bottle of champagne and started pouring the liquid in the empty glasses in front of him. “You’re giving Kiran the wrong idea about us, Y/N. She might think you don’t like me very much.”

“She’d be right,” you snarked, ignoring the glass of champagne he held out for you.

“I’ll take that,” Davina replied, snatching the glass from his hands.

Your friends were suddenly talking all at once but all you could focus on was Billy’s heated gaze on you. With every second that passed his eyes on you seemed to grow more wanton and lustful, and desire coursed through your blood at how he looked at you. You wanted him so badly you cold feel yourself getting wet, and you realized you needed to get out of there right away.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you whispered in Davina’s ear, making sure Billy didn’t hear you.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” You stood up quickly and made your way out of there, keenly aware of Billy’s eyes boring into your back.

Few minutes later you were sitting at one of the corner bar downstairs. This floor had a different ambience than the club upstairs, which you appreciated. The music wasn’t as loud and you found yourself enjoying the lounge vibe. It wasn’t long before someone crept up next to you at the bar and you turned to find a familiar face smiling back at you.

His name was Avi and you’d run into him a few times at the conferences you’d gone to. Broad-shouldered and husky, you’d always found him attractive in an adorable way.

“You just look…” he gave you a shy smile. “Wow.”

Seeing his reaction to you, you smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ve always wanted to approach you but I didn’t want to come across as a creep, you know?” he explained. “You can also be very intimidating.”

That made you laugh. “I doubt that.”

As Avi and you continued to talk, you couldn’t help but enjoy how he was gawking at you. You didn’t fit society’s mould for what was considered beautiful, so all of your past flings were a result of the guys getting to know you and finding you hot because of your personality. It was rare when a guy you were attracted to was also into you right away but that seemed to be the case with Avi. You didn’t have to charm or work for him to find you hot. Instead, he was genuinely enamored with how you looked which was refreshing.

His phone rang with a text notification. Scanning through the message, he flashed you an apologetic glance. “Shit. I have to go.”

Disappointed, you pouted your lips. “That’s too bad.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” he asked shyly.

“I’d like that.” You reached for your phone and scrolled through to the contacts app to add his name before handing the phone to him. “Add your number.”

After you said your goodbyes, you ordered your third gin and tonic and were enjoying your drink at the bar when someone grazed up against you. Seated on a high bar stool, you were expecting Davina to have come looking for you. Instead, you found Billy sidling up to you. He looked pissed off and angrier than you’d ever seen him.

“Give me your phone,” he barked.

“Go to hell.”

Unexpectedly he gripped your stool and pulled you closer, throwing you off so you were forced to hold on to him for regain your balance. He perched his foot up on the bottom ledge of the stool, closing you in fully. “Unblock me now.”

‘Go fuck yourself.”

His dark eyes seemed to suddenly grow even darker, more monster than human. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

“My future boyfriend.”

Billy’s lips curved into a sneer. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Why don’t you go back to flirting with my friend and leave me the fuck alone?”

“She was flirting. I wasn’t.”

“I don’t care. Go sleep with whoever you want, and I’ll do the same.”

Billy simply stared at you for a beat, his jaw clenched. “You’re not fucking anyone else.”

Sitting up straight, you leveled him with a hostile look. “I just met someone who was nice, sweet, and really fucking cute. And he wasn’t an asshole like you. Trust me, I will fuck him. I might even suck him off here tonight if he plays his cards right. And there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop that.”

He dipped his head towards you, leaning in closer so you were the only one who could hear him. His voice may have been flat, but his words were laced with cold fury when he spoke next. “If he touches you, he’s dead. I’ll start with his hands. I’ll break his fingers one by one for daring to touch you. Next I’ll cut off his dick, his balls, other parts of him slowly, carefully, so he feels every inch of the excruciating pain I’ll put him through. I’ll fill him with adrenaline so he doesn’t pass out from the pain. I’ll gouge out his eyes last because he needs to see that I’m the one who turned him into a mutilated lump of flesh. And then maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I might slit his throat to end his suffering.” His eyes never leaving yours, he reached for your drink at the bar and chugged it.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you said, your throat suddenly parched. Your heart was beating rapidly, your stomach coiled into knots. Fear should have flooded over you - it didn’t. Instead, you were aroused.

“No one takes what’s mine.”

“I’m not your fucking possession. You don’t own me.” You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as your emotions – and the walls – started to all swirl together. Like always, just when you thought he might have cared enough to admit he was jealous, he showed his true colours. Billy’s anger had nothing to do with his feelings for you. Rather, it was about his ego. Shit. You felt dizzy, the drinks had started to hit you. “Why don’t you go bother Dinah and her new man? Didn’t you say she was seeing someone else? Go pull your psychopath routine on them.”

He tucked his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze again. The emotions in his eyes played havoc with your senses as he pressed in closer, so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

“I don’t care who Dinah dates or fucks.”

The air was thick with tension. It felt as if there was no one else in the bar but you and Billy, his one hand under your chin, the other pressed against the small of your back. You felt heady and light-headed with anticipation and desire, but you were also angry. Angry that you still wanted him, that he wouldn’t give you space to get over him. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

His fingers gripped the side of your face, and you exhaled a sharp breath when he grazed your forehead with his. Temples touching, his eyes held you transfixed in place. “Because you’re mine.” The possessiveness in his voice was unsettling, but it was the way he was staring at you – as if he could see right through to your core – that made your stomach flip-flop. “Mine.” His thumb swiped along your bottom lip, as if marking you as his. “And I’m yours.”

Billy was a player, an asshole, and there was comfort in that because it meant you knew where you stood with him, but now he was defying expectations, crossing the boundaries you’d carefully set for yourself, and you weren’t ready for that. None of that mattered, however, because you were suddenly feeling really, really sick. “I have to go,” you mumbled. The room was spinning as you tried to jump off the chair but your knees almost gave way. Billy was there to catch you in his arms, holding you up.

“Woah, you okay?”

You pushed him off and ran.

Part 10

A/N - As always, thank you for the support, the feedback, the likes/reblogs, and the asks. I’m stoked to keep writing this because of you guys. Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter!

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, drop me a note.

Tag List.

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine @gubleryum @galaxyjane @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless @tanyaherondale @nashibirne @dour-trash @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson @agent-jbarnes @primadonnasdream @aleksanderwh0r3 @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729 @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival @sassygirl25 @consulting--heroes @the-celestial-kitsune @mackaywhore @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle @fire-treasure-iii @charly-0 @kestrafagnor @pigwidgeonxo @damagelove @allegra-writes @pensandthings @jad3djay @batshitbarnes @kashimayuki @secretsthathauntus @odetostep @awesome-eccia @mackaywhore @stories-you-wont-hear @vvsdiamond28 @supernaturalcat7 @arieltwvdtohamflash @iknownoqueenbutthequeeninme @devs-stufff @ticosas @moodacheeks @myakai13 @carlywhomever @fvckthisbxtchup @its-evita-here @papapapadumb @talesfrommycell @bat-luna-cat @fific7 @elluvians @dailydoseofchoices @bigcreatorwombatdreamer

gif-credit: @the-darkling

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher

146 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them?

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

687 notes · View notes

mosswillow · 3 years

Text

Focus - Dark!Bucky Barnes x ADHD!Reader

Warnings! Dark! 18+ content, vaginal fingering, noncon/dubcon, smut, kidnapping, oral (female receiving)

Summary: You never should have taken the job cleaning for Stark industries. The Avengers might be heroes on the outside but something sinister lies just beneath the surface.

A/N: this is part of the Synonyms series. You can read any of them as stand alones but I encourage reading them in order if you want to read all of them. This one specifically ties them all together (but you can still read it alone and it should make sense)

This is one of those where it doesn’t feel done but I’m done writing it. I think I just hyped it up in my head too much so after actually writing it I’m like, eh it’s not as good as I thought it would be.

Word count: 3.4k

If you could just focus, everything in your life would be better.

Your inattention follows you around like a shadow. It stands behind you, silently ruining your life while you try in vain to just focus. Just don’t forget. Just stop losing things. Just pay attention. Teachers in school would tell you to stop daydreaming, that if you just listened you could do so much better. Growing up, Your parents treated you like you would never amount to anything. They would push your siblings to do well in school but when it came to you they were silent, unwilling to spend energy on a kid who couldn’t even make it through a family dinner without getting distracted. Everyone around you would laugh at your “quirky” personality. You know that for other people you’re funny, always getting yourself into trouble and making silly mistakes. You don’t think it’s funny though and you never did. As a kid you would frequently cry yourself to sleep. You found ways to hide your stupidity so that just maybe others might overlook your shadow. You’ve tried so hard to act normal, to make check lists and routines but it never works and you always find yourself once again brought to tears after your inevitable failure.

This is why you took the job at Stark Tower all those years ago. You knew you wouldn’t excel at school and so you took the first job you could find, cleaning for Stark Industries. It’s something you’re actually good at and the only routine in your life you’ve been able to consistently follow. It makes you move around constantly and there’s always some different puzzle to solve. You love the feeling of finally getting out a tough stain from the carpet or finding the perfect tool to finally get to a hard to reach spot.

Now, after years of hard work and an extensive background check you’ve been promoted to cleaning the Avengers floor. You have a generous salary now, health insurance, your own place with no roommates. Some people may judge what you do but you don’t care anymore. It’s honest work and you love it.

---

You walk into stark tower, showing security your badge before heading to the elevator and riding it up to the Avengers floor. You’ve had this job for a few weeks now but you still feel nervous every day. If you’re honest you’re scared of them, the Avengers, They feel unhinged. It’s nothing they do or say. It’s the general vibe you get when you’re around them, like they’re filled to the brim with unbridled anger that hides underneath a cracking exterior. Any moment they might break completely and whatever trauma they’ve all been through will spill out and consume anyone who dares stand close to them.

You start your day in one of the many bathrooms, scrubbing every surface before taking your cleaning supplies and working your way through the floor. Every day is much of the same, you spend all day cleaning the massive Avengers living area, trying your best to stay out of their lives.

You turn a corner and see Captain America with someone, a new recruit you’ve seen around but haven't met. He has her against the wall, pushing his finger into her pussy. You stand stunned for a second.

“If I don’t take action now I might lose you and I can’t lose you.” Captain America says.

You turn and jump back behind the corner, sliding your back down the wall. You can make out some of their conversation and it sounds dramatic. She’s crying and begging him to walk away. You close your eyes and tell yourself to stay out of it. It’s not your place and if you tried to step in you could lose your job.

You hear footsteps walking towards you. Captain America stops and flashes a smile while you stand up.

“We appreciate privacy here, you understand the consequences if you tell anyone about anything about our personal lives?”

You do know, they had you sign an agreement that said they’d take everything away from you if you talked about their personal lives in any way to anyone. If you value your livelihood you won’t speak a word about it to anyone.

“I’m sorry sir, I saw you there and didn’t want to interrupt. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, Is… is she ok?”

He crosses his arms and looks you up and down.

“Everything is consensual if that’s what you’re asking, we enjoy a little roleplay sometimes.”

you‘re not totally convinced, something inside you tells you that he’s lying to you. He looks at you so intently and you know, despite his hero status, that he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of you permanently if he had to. you nod your head and give a smile.

“I’m sorry if I insinuated anything sir.”

He checks his watch before quickly walking away. You exhale and pick up your cleaning supplies. As you walk past her room you stop for a second, deciding if you should knock. You back away, not wanting to interfere more than you already have.

“You’re new here.” a voice says as you reach the living room.

“Yes, I just started a few weeks ago.” you reply.

“I’m Bucky.” he walks over to you, looking you up and down.

“I have a lot of work to finish.” you back up a few steps and hold your cleaning tote in front of you. Bucky stuffs his hands in his pockets and smiles.

“I won’t keep you.”

---

Six months later

---

You walk into Tony’s suite and lean down to plug in your vacuum. A pop of red catches your eye and you pull a thong out from under the nightstand. You turn it over in your hands, deciding what to do with it. A hand comes behind you and takes it from you. You look up to see Tony Stark in front of you, stuffing the thong in his pocket.

“Mr. stark.” you gasp.

“From a one night stand.”

“Of course sir, do you want me to wash and return it to your... friend?”

“No.” Tony says quickly. “That will be all in here today.”

“I haven't vacuumed yet, do you want me to come back later?”

“No, just leave.”

You unplug the vacuum and roll it out the door, turning just briefly to close it behind you. As the door closes you see Tony pull the underwear out of his pocket and bring it to his nose.

You try your best over the next week to keep your mind focused on work. Everything starts to get back to normal.

One evening you hear a thud and someone yell out in pain. You run over to see Tony in the hallway standing threateningly over a woman.

“Is everything ok? You ask.

“We’re fine, you can leave for the night.” Tony says, waving you away. You make eye contact with the woman, looking back and forth between her and Tony. She nods and gives you a small, unconvincing smile. You turn around and walk away, wanting nothing more than to get home and take a long shower. Maybe you can forget about what you just saw.

On your way out you run straight into a wall of muscle.

“Hey, what’s the rush sweetheart.” Bucky catches you, holding onto your shoulders.

“I, uh, I’m sorry sir. Nothing, I’m just anxious to get home I guess.”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky.” you say, moving away from him and towards the door.

“Hey, are you ok?” He takes a step towards you, cocking his head and furrowing his brow.

“Yes sir… Bucky.”

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“No, I can’t.” you look into his eyes, silently communicating the reason for your silence.

Bucky runs his hand through his hair and looks down.

“Your socks match.” he looks up and smiles.

“I’m sorry?” you look at your feet.

“You usually wear mismatched ones, it’s cute.”

You know he meant it to be a fun observation, maybe even a weird complement, but it feels pointed. You always lose your socks, it’s just one of the many small things that you should be able to do better but just can’t. You can’t even keep your life together enough to consistently find matching socks. You give a fake smile, used to laughing at yourself when these things are pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.” you laugh.

Bucky takes an almost imperceptible step towards you and you in turn take a very obvious one backwards.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sir.” you say.

“Bucky.”

“Bucky.” you give a tight smile before walking away.

---

Two weeks later

---

Natasha hands you a book.

“Can you wrap this please?”

“Yes ma'am, whose name should I put?”

“Say to my little bookworm, Love Nat.”

You wrap the present lovingly, putting extra care into it. You’ve seen them together, Nat and her girlfriend. Tony and Steve’s wives mostly keep to themselves but Natashas girlfriend is always nice to you, acknowledging you and thanking you when she sees you working. She owns a bookstore that you’ve visited a few times and always remembers you when you walk in.

“I think you forgot a piece of tape.” Bucky whispers in your ear making you jump. He’s started doing this, becoming more comfortable around you, touching you in small ways and getting just a little closer than what’s appropriate. You grab another piece of tape and secure a bit of paper.

“Thank you.” you say as you tie a bow around the gift and write the note. You pause with your pencil trying to remember what Natasha told you to write. You should have written it down when she told you it. You curse under your breath, wishing you had paid better attention when you were given instructions. You remember it was something easy but not exactly what she wanted.

“I have to get this back to Ms. Romanoff.” you push past Bucky.

“Did I do something to make you upset?”

You stop and look at him.

“No sir”

“Bucky”

“I just prefer to remain professional while at work,” you look down.

“What about outside of work?”

“I would rather keep that life separate. I’m sorry, I just really like this job and don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and you half expect him to grab you and push you against the wall like you’ve seen the captain and Tony do to their girlfriends and then wives. You flinch when he takes a step towards you. He reaches out, brushing the back of his hand over your cheek.

“I’m not like the others,” he whispers.

You’re not sure what to say, you just nod and watch as he steps back and walks away.

---

One month later

---

You’re doing dishes, scrubbing hard against burnt on food that was never soaked or even rinsed. One of them had a date the night before, making a complicated meal.

“How long until you get your girl?” Thor says to Sam as they walk into the kitchen.

“Tony’s working on it, probably a few weeks before I can take her home.”

They each grab oranges and head into the next room. their voices get quieter for a few minutes then louder again as they walk back to throw away their orange peels.

“I’m envious, I often fantasize about finding mine, If only I knew where she was.” Thor says.

“You have no idea where she could be?”

“I must confess, friend, I don’t even know what planet she’s on. She’s a slippery little lady.”

You stop washing dishes for a second, mind trying to dissect what you’re overhearing.

“You ok?” Bucky sets a plate next to the sink.

“Yes sir.” you reply, taking the plate and washing it.

You turn off the sink and turn around, seeing multiple dishes you forgot about. You pick them up and bring them to the sink, restarting the cleaning process.

“I think you should take a vacation.”

You look at him and raise your eyebrows.

“You’re a hard worker, and fast too.”

You nod in agreement.

“You’re… unusual to watch though.”

You set the last clean dish in the drying rack and turn your back to Bucky, taking a step away. You put your hand in your pocket to pull out your phone which holds your to do list but it’s not there. You look to your right and left and then turn back toward Bucky. He holds your phone out to you and you grab it and open your list.

“This is the third time today you’ve misplaced your phone.”

“I appreciate your concern, you’re very observant.” you bite your tongue before you say something aggressively inappropriate to your boss.

“Hey, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. You’re very smart and capable, I just noticed it’s been worse lately and think you should take a break.”

You take a deep breath.

“I’m taking next week off.” you say, grabbing a broom and walking out of the kitchen.

“Good.” Bucky yells after you.

---

Three months later.

---

Your phone rings, waking you up from a deep sleep.

“Hello,” you say sleepily.

“Hey, can you come in ASAP?” Tony says from the other end.

You jump out of bed.

“Of course, I’ll be there soon.”

You quickly get dressed and run out of the apartment. You gasp and drop your bag as soon as the elevator door opens. There’s a huge mess covering the entire living room and kitchen. There’s broken glass and furniture everywhere as well as a hole in the wall. It looks as though there was a fight and you wonder what happened. You get to work right away.

Thankfully a few of the Avengers wives come and help you clean up. Natashas wife evidently is back from a long honeymoon and you’re happy to see her. You smile at her and she frowns back at you.

“Are you ok?”

She looks away. “Just tired.”

You watch her give a tiny flinch as Natasha calls her name from the next room. Something is very wrong.

“You got this cleaned up fast.” Bucky says, taking a dustpan away from you and dumping the contents into the trash.

“I had help.” you say, looking over to where Natasha and her wife stand across the room.

You look back at Bucky and give a sweet smile.

“I was wondering if I could leave a little early on friday. There’s a birthday party for my grandmother.”

“I think you’ve earned leaving a little early after today, you’re welcome to get ready for your party here too. You can use the guest room.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Bucky.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Thank you Bucky.”

---

You put on your dress and a full face of makeup, admiring yourself in the mirror before heading out. Bucky stands outside of the guest room door, obviously waiting for you.

“You clean up nice.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky clicks his tongue as he stares at you.

“Did I ever tell you that you remind me of someone I used to know?”

You back away.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I miss her.”

You try your best to take even breaths. The way he looks at you makes you deeply uncomfortable. You feel naked despite your dress being on the conservative side. You make the mistake of looking straight at his crotch, seeing a very visible bulge. You gulp and shift uncomfortably on your feet.

“Have a good time at your party.” Bucky says.

“I will.” you say politely before basically running to the elevator. You get in and realize you forgot your phone. You walk back to the guest room where Bucky waits, holding your phone out for you. You grab it and turn around but bucky catches your arm.

“Focus, do you have everything you need.”

You shift your eyes away and realize you forgot your wallet and keys too.

Bucky grabs your things out of his pocket and hands them to you.

“Thank you.” you breathe.

Bucky hums and lets you go.

“Be safe,” he yells as you walk back to the elevator, this time taking it down and leaving the tower.

---

Three months later

---

You’re going to quit today. As good as the money is it’s not worth the fear and stress of working there. Not only have you become more and more concerned about the wives of the Avengers but you just can’t take Bucky anymore. You’re scared of him. The way he looks at you makes you feel as though he could decide at any minute to lock you in a room and tear your clothes off. You feel constant stress at work and have developed a tremor. No amount of money is worth this work environment. The lease at your apartment is about to end and you’ll move back with your parents until you find a new job.

You enter the avengers floor and hear yelling.

“Fuck!”

“I thought we were kidnapping women?”

“You weren’t supposed to just snatch one. Now there’s a whole mess to clean up.”

“Thor just took his.”

“He has a point.”

“Thor had that whole betrothal thing.”

“Touche.”

You make eye contact with a scared woman who is sitting on the couch with her hands tied in front of her. She mouths run and you do, running out of the tower and home. You start frantically packing a bag, throwing your phone away since you’re sure they can track it.

“There’s nowhere to hide baby.”

You scream as Bucky pulls you away from your suitcase and throws you on your bed.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” he touches your face, smoothing his finger over your lip.

“We’re married now, Tony already set it up. I’m going to take you on a honeymoon on an island until I can trust you.”

It clicks in your head, the honeymoons. They always come back so quiet and introverted.

“What did they do to those poor girls?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Tears start forming in your eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone, just let me go.”

“This is the only way.”

Bucky’s hand travels down your body, grabbing your waistband and pulling your pants off. He puts his hand in between your legs and you squirm away, clenching your legs tight.

“Please baby, I don't want to hurt you but I will if i have to. Now open up”

You shake your head, tears now spilling down your cheeks. He slaps you hard and you clutch your throbbing face, crying out and pushing your body against the headboard. You slowly and shakilly open your legs for him, closing your eyes as he dips a metal finger in your pussy.

“I’m not like the others.”

He thrusts his finger in and out.

“They took those women out of greed. They feel like they deserve love after everything they’ve given up... we’ve given up.”

He reaches his other hand up, still fucking you gently with a metal finger, and grabs your chin, shaking your head gently until you look at him.

“I just want you to be safe and happy.”

Bucky pulls his finger out. He grabs his cock, stroking it as he looks at your naked lower half. You try to close your legs but he grabs them, pulling them open. He kisses your mound gently and you arch your back involuntarily, pushing your pussy into his face. He grabs your legs and holds you against his mouth, suddenly sucking and licking until you’re coming undone. The pleasure washes over you and you relax for a second before your mind is brought back to reality. Your legs shake as He pulls back and smiles at you, climbing over you and pushing his impressive dick in. He kisses you as he thrusts into you, grabbing your shoulders and squeezing them as he comes.

“I’m going to be good for you, this will be good.” he whispers, holding you as you cry in his arms.

---

You’re forgetful. You don’t focus, don’t pay attention. It was right in front of your face and you still missed it. You always miss it. You’ve always been someone who gets themselves into trouble, always making silly mistakes and having to pay for them.

Your shadow did it again, silently destroyed everything around you while you ignorantly looked the wrong way. If you could just pay attention.

If you could just focus.

But you can’t.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!mcu #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky

452 notes · View notes

wiener-soldiers · 3 years

Text

so, you’re real - tommy shelby

summary: while high off his ass, tommy shelby is approached by a mysterious woman offering him something more valuable than drugs: information. your services become essential to how tommy conducts business, but your anonymity means he can’t help but fall in love with you from a distance.

words: 5.4k

pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader (race non-specific)

warnings: tommy shelby. that’s the warning.

a/n: first tommy fic :D he’s one of the most beautifully complex characters ever in television imo but that also means his kinda nightmare to right. so,,, he might come off a little ooc because he’s very soft!tommy in this. i also wanna write a tommy fic based off ‘why’d you only call me when your high’ by arctic monkeys for obvious reasons.

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist! | faq

Tommy Shelby could count the number of people who’s seen him high as a kite on opium with three fingers. Arthur was the first; he drukenly stumbled into Tommy’s room instead of his own one night and the smell of the pipe sobered him enough to start asking questions. Tommy shoved him out and by the morning, Arthur was too hungover to remember a thing. The next was Polly; Tommy stumbled down the stairs as he was high around three in the morning once as he searched the house for more booze. Polly watched from a distance as he sat himself on the kitchen table and wept, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears with his hands. She chose not to mention it the following morning, but a perscription for morphine found its way to Tommy’s desk a few days later.

The third person... was you.

You didn’t know the Shelby’s personally. You were the assistant of a local Small Heath accountant that dealt with Birmingham’s most infamous clients: local coppers, factory owners, politicians, even gangsters. Your boss was known as the Devil’s Safe—nothing that came in went ot without the client’s consent.

But you weren’t a saint. Being so close to his office at all times and knowing far too much about where the most influential people in Birmingham got their money and where they spent it, it was nearly impossible to keep your mouth shut.

So, you didn’t. At a price, of course.

You quit your job and created a small network of spies that could feed you information about anyone or anything at anytime, using your knowledge about the Devil’s Safe as leverge. You charged whoever could afford for your services, coppers and criminals alike. Some self-righteous copper tried to shut you down once. Keyword: tried. There were too many spies all over the city to try to arrest (that is, if he could find grounds to arrest them), and you were too important to too many important people that arresting you would likely have him assasinated.

That, and you tipped him off about a corrupt police captain who had been trading orphans for cash. It got him a promotion and you a protective shield over your dealings from the coppers.

Tommy first met you at the races. You were hanging off the arm of Roberts, Billy Kimber’s advisor, and he briefly caught your eye before returning his gaze to Grace who stared at him lovingly. He didn’t know it then, but you were analyzing him. His posture, his facial expressions, how he spoke to Kimber, and most importantly, his books that Roberts happened to have a copy of. Nothing went unnoticed by you. The Shelby’s were starting to cause ruckus all over the city and you were interested. But, to maintain your facade, you snuck a few kisses to Roberts’ neck to distract him from your snooping.

When Tommy returned to the table with the bag of cash his brothers had collected from the Lees, you were gone.

---

The second time he sees you, he isn’t even sure if it’s you.

It’s late at night as he approaches The Garrison when he notices Polly standing with another figure in the alley. He slows his steps and silences his breathing, trying to catch the end of your conversation.

“You’re sure this is where she is?” That’s unmistakingly Polly’s voice.

A soft chuckle rips through the air and Tommy suddenly wonders what your voice sound like. “There’s only so many women carrying a newborn and looking that terrified of what may be behind her,” the other voice says. It’s not soft or angelic, Tommy notices. Nothing likes Grace’s. It’s deeper, smoother, and he can almost hear the smirk in her voice.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Polly asks back skeptically. Tommy has the common sense to realize she’s talking about Ada who had gone into hiding after Freddie was arrested. Polly hadn’t been able to stay in the same room as him for very long since.

You pull out another envelope from your coat and teasingly dangle it in front of her. “Here’s the list of all of Ada and Freddie’s known addresses. The Communists have them move every few weeks; the address I gave you is Ada’s current address. Go there tomorrow from seven to nine in the morning. Ada’ll still be in bed and Karl will still be asleep. Then, you’ll know I’m right, you’ll give me the full payment, and I’ll give you the rest of the addresses.”

Tommy is slightly stunned at what he’s hearing. They had been trying to look for Ada for nearly two weeks to no avail, but this woman was able to find her that easily?

The woman turns to walk away before Polly can respond and in the street light, Tommy can make out the outline of your face. It was so brief that he couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he imagined your face in the darkness.

Polly doesn’t notice him as she makes her way back inside the pub. The following afternoon, Polly is pounding on his office door saying she’s found where Ada had been hiding.

---

The third time he sees you, he’s sitting in the empty Garrison with a bullet wound in his shoulder, whiskey coursing through his veins, enough meloncholy and anger to swim in, and a broken heart.

Billy Kimber was dead. Campbell was gone. But, so was Grace.

It was a series of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time: relief, then anger, then happiness, then frustration. Then the shovels started. Then, it all got too loud and he slipped his opium pipe into his coat pocket before going to The Garrison to drink his sorrows away. He had never taken the pipe out of his room before. In that state, he didn’t care.

He doesn’t really know how you got in; he had angrily yelled at everyone to leave the bar when the night was late enough for him to feel emotion and locked the door behind him. Maybe I didn’t lock the door right, he thinks. In reality, you had picked the lock.

“I could’ve told you she’d been working with him,” your voice calls behind him. He’s still hunched over his drink, the pipe lying next to a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. He didn’t need her to clarify who she was talking about.

“You could’ve, eh?” Tommy mumbles dangerously. He felt light, but his eyes and his heart felt heavy. He hated the feeling. Oh god, he hated it.

“Hmm,” you hum back, taking a seat next to him. You reach behind the bar and pull out a bottle of gin and poor yourself a drink. Tommy watches you do so. You don’t look like you pity him, in fact, you don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus your attention on the drink.

After taking a sip, you reach into your coat jacket and pull out an envelope, slidding it over to Tommy. You had clearly seen the opium pipe that still had smoke coming out of it, but you gently pushed it out of the way so the envelope rested in front of Tommy’s drink.

“What is this?” he asks, still too high to think straight.

“Consider it a resume,” you quip back, taking another sip of your drink as you study the collection of liquor and spirits on the back shelf of the bar.

“For what?”

“My services.”

“You a fuckin’ whore? You think that’s what I need right now, eh?”

“What I think you need right now, Mr. Shelby, is a sense of security. To be ahead of the enemy. I can give that to you,” you reply smoothly, barely flinching. Tommy notices your voice doesn’t falter even at his jab. He begins to sober up, finaling looking at you.

You had an air of mystery and intrigue. Your eyes looked all-knowing and the corner of your lip was quirked. A white blouse was tucked into a deep red skirt with your black wool jacket overtop of it all. If he was a different man, he surely would have taken you home.

“Why are you telling me this?” he finally asks.

You look back at him, the smirk on your lips growing. “Because I quite like your family. Polly is quite intelligent and Ada is a delight. I also know far too much about you, so it’d be a shame if someone paid be good money to tell them everything there is to know about you. But if you came to me first, there wouldn’t be much of an issue. The rate for ratting out one of my clients is ridiculously high.”

So, it had been you with Polly that night, he thinks. “You’d work for me?” he asks again, tone getting more serious. The last time a woman worked for him, it didn’t end particularly well.

You laugh and Tommy is momentarily stunned. It’s a beautiful laugh that appeared in an awful moment. “I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby.”

And then you left. Tommy stares a the door for a few minutes after you’ve left, wondering if he had imagined your visit the whole time. When he turns back to his drink, the envelope you left behind is a sign that you had been real. He hesitantly opens it and his jaw unhinges at the contents inside: there were several documents, reports, and even pictures tying Grace Burgess and Inspector Campbell together. It seemed so plain and simple once it was laid out in front of him.

Under the flap of the envelope was an address as well as a rate of service. It was high, Tommy couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t deny how the pressure on his chest eased for a moment when he was with you. Even more so when you had left the address.

The next morning, a wad of cash from Shelby Company Limited shows up at one of your drop locations. It’s more than you asked for and quicker than you expected it to come. You smirk softly and get to work.

---

Tommy doesn’t see you again until he pays a visit to Sabini’s club a few years later as he works on his London expansion. He had been a client of yours for nearly two years now and he was continuosly impressed with your work. You literally had eyes everywhere; there wasn’t a place between Manchester and Brighton that you couldn’t get to. You had been the one feeding him inside information about Sabini’s operations in London, as well as how to get Alfie Solomon’s attention.

Despite all this work, he hasn’t seen you since you approached him when he was high in the empty pub. He gets all his information through courriers, telephone calls from messengers, and packages from drop locations all over the city. He asked a courrier once why he hasn’t seen you since.

“No one really sees her, sir. We just get orders in one way or another, we excecute them, and then money shows up. She doesn’t want anyone to tie her to her clients or the boots on the ground.”

“She’s clever.”

“She’s bloody brilliant, is what she is. She’s set up this system so bloody tight that no one really knows how it works except her. One lad up in Coventry tried to turn her in. Went missing a few days later.”

He doesn’t think about you often, but when he does, he’s reminded of that night in The Garrison; how mysterious and beautiful and dangerous you looked, how his chest seemed less tight with you around. Maybe he’s imagined it. Maybe it was the opium clouding his vision. So, he pushes those thoughts away because as far as he’s concerned, you’re an enigma. Hell, he doesn’t even know your name and he’s been paying you big money and giving away too much of his plans.

But he sees you that night when he and his brothers storm Sabini’s club. You’re sitting on a fancy velvet lounging chair, tucked under the arm of what Tommy assumes is a wealthy banker or socialite. You don’t see him (not yet, at least) but Tommy sees you. All Tommy sees is you. The smoke that flows out of your nostrils as your lips curl at whatever attempt at humour then man with you made draws Tommy in. So does the cut of your deep blue, satin dress. He knows it then, that you’re real. That you’re not a figment of his imagination.

“This place is something else, innit?” Arthur remarks as they make their way deeper and deeper into the club. Tommy is still drawn to you as his brothers gawk at the permiscuous behaviour around them.

The party atmosphere doesn’t last long however, as the boys make a show out of trashing the place. Tommy makes sure to put on a performance, to play up the fear. When he shouts something along the lines of being on a holiday, he happens to catch your eye and the first thing he notices is the smirk playing on your lips. He’s first confused as to why but he understands: you had a large part of the London expansion and you also likely knew that Tommy was going to be there that night. You weren’t there with a man. You were there to see him. You were there to see his reckoning.

The image of you tattooed itself onto Tommy’s brain and the feeling he felt in his chest was something he craved to feel again.

---

The next morning, the brothers stumble into Ada’s home, uninvited. Their younger sister begrudgingly lets them in, still clad in her nightgown, and hastily tells them to keep their noise level down as Karl was still sleeping.

It doesn’t last very long.

“You shoulda seen their bloody faces, Ades!” John hollers, mouth full of biscuits and tea. Ada hisses at him for spewing food across the table.

“Didn’t know what was coming, the lot of them,” Arthur adds, already taking a sip from a flask. He was barely sober from the night before and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. “Fuckin’ Sabini, Ada. He won’t know what’s bloody comin’.”

“Sabini, eh?” Ada plays along, still slightly annoyed but now intriguied. “You didn’t happen to hit up his club last night, did you?”

“’Course we did!” John snickers. “What’d you think we’d do, start small?”

Ada’s facial expression suddenly changes into one of slightly more concern. Arthur and John don’t notice, but Tommy does. “I was hopin’ you would,” Ada plays it off but Tommy notices.

“Ada?” he asks, voice stern but eyes curious. His sister was intelligent, so much so that her mouth was as good at getting her out of trouble as it was getting her in it. Tommy was sure that there was more than what she let on.

“Tom?” Ada says back, not meeting his gaze and instead taking a bite out her toast and jam.

“Why’re you so hung up on Sabini’s club?” Tommy asks directly, slowly getting tired of his sister’s semantics. He mommentarily understands how Polly feels when he keeps things from her.

Ada sighs, having also attracted attention from her two other brothers. She sets down her toast and looks directly at Tommy. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

“Saw who?” Arthur asks, booming voice too loud for the sudden change of tone in the room. Ada grimaces but still stares at Tommy.

Tommy knows exactly who she’s talking about. But he wonders how Ada does.

“I did,” he says simply.

“Who’re you talkin’ about?” John asks next, looking between his siblings. Arthur shrugs at him.

“Did you say anything to her?”

“No.”

“Good,” Ada says too quickly. Tommy narrows his eyes at her.

“For God’s sake!” Arthur says again, slamming his tea cup back down onto the table. “Who in the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”

Ada rolls her eyes and continues eating and Tommy is left to stare at his brothers. He wants to answer. He wants to answer so badly. But he doens’t even know her name.

“I—” Tommy trails off. He’s rarely rendered speechless, but he is when it comes to you. Who were you? Why did Ada know you? Why can’t he get you out of his head? Why does he hope you’re standing there in the shadows every time he steps out on the street?

“You? You what, Tom?” John asks this time, equally as exasperated.

“He doesn’t know and it should stay that way,” Ada says simply. “She offers you a service, you pay her, end of transaction. Stay away from her Tommy, I mean it.”

“What service?” John asks again, still getting more questions than answers.

Tommy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “After Grace, she offered me a service. Cash in exchange for information. Said she knew that I needed a sense of security.” She was right, Tommy thinks but doesn’t dare say.

“Information about what, exactly?” Arthur asks, voice dropping an octave as he leans forward.

“Everything. Anything and everything. She knows everything. I don’t have the slightest clue how,” Tommy answers honestly, his own disbelief being obvious for the first time.

“She can betray us...” John warns, skeptical especially after Grace.

“She won’t,” Ada says simply.

“How do you know?” John challenges.

“She won’t,” Ada reaffirms with a glint in her eye. John immediatley backs down. Ada doens’t trust easily, especially after Freddie.

Tommy believes her. You know too much, far too much. More than he or you had bargained for. You also gave too much. Tommy asked for one thing, you gave him what he wanted and more. Tommy wanted a brief description of the shipping business in Bristol, you gave him an itemized list. Tommy asked you to keep an eye out for any potential threats, you gave him incredibly precise weekly reports. He asked people what your service was like as if he didn’t already know himself: you were never this thorough. He knew you wouldn’t betray him because you would have done it already. The question is, why did Ada trust her?

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Tommy asks his sister once again, doing his best to intimidate her. It’s no use.

“I do,” Ada says simply.

“Even her name?”

John scoffs. “You don’t even know her bloody name and you’ve got that look like you’re in love? Jesus, Tom! You need a good fuckin’, I’m telling you.”

Ada ignores her brother’s comment. “Even her name.”

Tommy gestures for her to elaborate and Ada hesitantly continues, “Polly paid her to find me after Karl was born. She found me personally, not through a messenger. We got along quite well, she was very honest about what she’d been hired to do. She gave Polly that information she was looking for, but we kept in touch. Personally, I mean. I like her.”

“Tell me her name, Ada.”

Ada makes a face of fake appeasement. “Can’t do that, sorry Tom.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “Ada...” he warns.

Ada’s glare mathces his own. “Her identity is all she’s got Tommy. The minute a client knows who she is, it all falls apart. For the love of God, for your safety and hers, don’t find her.”

And hell, does Tommy want not to listen. He wants to find you again. To see you. To speak to you. To learn your name. To feel the weight in his chest lighten once more.

But you remained impossible to find. Even with his London expansion, he wasn’t any closer to finding out who you really were than the day you first spoke to him at The Garrison.

So, he tried to push his thoughts away. He didn’t get so lucky.

---

He was used to receiving messages from you on Sunday evenings before the week began and Thursday mornings before the week ended. Sometimes, they’d be in the form of a phone call from a messnger reading a message written by you. Other times, he would visit a drop site where he picked up parcels of information and evidence you had collected. Fridays were paydays, so he’d get a Blinder to drop a parcel of cash (though they never knew it was cash) at a drop site and wait for a courrier with a blue ribbon pinned under the lapel of their overcoat to retrieve it.

All your foot solidiers and clients wore the ribbons. You avoided paper trails so everything was with symbols. Ribbon colours were a discrete way for both the client and the courrier to tell who was who. Clients wore white ribbons, courriers wore blue ones, messengers wore green ones, and red ones were used for emergencies.

That’s why Tommy panicked when a man burst into his office late at night the day before he was set to take down Sabini, urgently lifting his lapel to show his red ribbon.

“What’s happened? Are we in danger?” Tommy asks immediatley, standing up from his chair.

“No, sir,” the foot soldier said. They were never allowed to say the names of clients, only sir and ma’am. “I have a message from her. It was urgent and couldn’t have waited until Thursday.”

The man gives him a sealed envelope before bowing and leaving as quickly as he came. Tommy checks to make sure that he is alone before ripping it open. It wasn’t a message, but a phone number and the word clairvoyant scribbled quickly with fancy ink.

Tommy furrows his eyebrows but picks up his phone and dials the operator. The other end picks up immediately. He hastily says the number he wants to be patched through to as well as the word scribbled below it. The operator says nothing else and he hears the phone ring again before a female voice finally picks up.

“Mr. Shelby, I was waiting for your call.”

It was you. Tommy’s heartbeat quickens. You continue to speak, oblivious to his shock, “I don’t make calls myself unless absolutely neccassary. You don’t need to worry about privacy; I have connections with the operating center that patched you through. They won’t say a word to anyone, telling them that you called and they won’t be listening.”

Truthfully, Tommy hadn’t even been thinking of that. He was still slightly shocked that he was hearing your voice, the same voice as nealry three years ago. The opium fucked with a lot of things, but not his sense perception. Your voice was as beautiful as he remembered it to be.

He forces the thoughts out of his head and finally speaks. “What’s happened? Is there an emergency?”

“You aren’t safe at the races tomorrow. There will be an attempt on your life.”

Tommy is not entirely surprised. “I’m sure you can put two and two together; what I plan to do at the races is practically a suicide mission, dear. Of course there’ll be an attempt on my life.”

You scoff at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll rephrase: you may succeed in your plan tomorrow, but something will catch you off-guard. Something big.”

“What is it, then? If you’re so sure,” Tommy challenges, but is taken aback by the silence.

You sigh, defeated at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll be honest. An Inspector Campbell approached me this morning, asking for my services to give him everything I knew about you plans tomorrow. I took his money.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “You called me to tell me you’re a fuckin’ conspirator against me now, eh?”

“I resent that. There’s a reason I ask you not to tell me anything about your business aside from what I need to know to do my job,” you snap back. “Campbell gave me money to tell him information I didn’t have. So, I took the money and told him lies. He didn’t pay enough money to turn me against one of clients anyway and I don’t negotiate.”

Tommy laughs in slight disbelief, “You clever bloody woman.”

You can’t help but grin at the other end of the line. “He let it slip that he had something planned, though. That you weren’t getting out of this alive. Thomas, I don’t know what and I don’t have enough time to find out, but you needed to know,” you say before soflty adding, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

Tommy nods solemnly before saying, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Thomas.”

You laugh and Tommy’s heart clenches at the sound. “Is that what you choose to focus on?” you ask, amused despite your worry.

“I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore,” Tommy answers.

“It’s a shame. There seems to be a lot in your life that’s worth living for,” you reply, your voice softer that Tommy’s ever heard it.

“Will you do me one final favour? Take it as my dying wish.”

“Thomas—” you start before he cuts you off.

“Can you tell me your name?” he finally asks, but he’s met with silence. He clears his throat and adds, “Please?”

You sigh at the other end. This is not how you were supposed to conduct business. Anonymity was the only thing keeping you from being excecuted at the hands of the Crown or a crime-boss. But here the feared Thomas Shelby was, asking as his dying wish to know your name. You don’t know him aside from your brief interactions and stories from Ada. But strangely, you trust him with the key keeping your identity safe.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

---

The following evening, Tommy trudges home covered in mud and blood. His encounter with the face of death was anticipated, but still left him scarred. Despite his success against the races and against Sabini, he felt trapped. With a success in the business, he still finds himself indebted to Winston Churchill. He’s exhaused of this cycle and in the moment, he embraced his fate just a little.

As he pushed the door to his home open, his eyes are immediately drawn to crackling fire. He hadn’t expected anyone to be home, as the family was staying in London with Ada to celebrate their successes.

So the sight of you, sitting on his couch and staring into the fire shocked the life back through him.

He takes of his hat and stares at you in slight disbelief. “So, you’re real.”

You turn to face him and the tension previously present in your features fell and the corner of your lip quirked upwards. “You’re alive,” you state the obvious.

“The Devil’s tried too many time to kill me, I’m starting to wonder if God does exist,” he says plainly, taking off his coat and taking a seat on the other end of the couch from you.

A small laugh escapes you. “He has jokes, does he?”

Tommy smiles softly but shakes his head and stares at you. “You’re really real. I was starting to think I was imagin’ ya.”

“Ada says you’ve been asking about me.”

“I have. She wouldn’t tell me your name, though.”

“You got it anyway.”

“Who’s to deny a man his dying wish?” Tommy darkly jokes again.

“I can’t go back to operating how things were. Even you knowing my name is too much,” you say softly, turning back to the fire. You were slightly frustrated with yourself. Years and years of building a network built around your anonymity destroyed by one man. Deep down, you felt that it was time.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tommy says simply.

“But you’d want to be in my life,” you say back, still not looking away from the fire. “I’m a woman, but I’m not stupid. I know why you tried to look for me.”

Tommy sits back and watches her. A woman’s never been more direct with him before. Even Grace, who had just asked him to lay with her one final time before moving back to America at the races, had never laid out what she saw so simply and bluntly before. She was right. Tommy wouldn’t tell anyone your name if you asked him to, but he would still want to see you. The only thing more painful than not knowing who you were was knowing and still not being able to see you.

“You could start again,” Tommy says. He barely recongizes the softness in his own tone, but he decides the change is good. “You could work for me, have your men join the Blinders if they wanted.”

“I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby,” you say again cheekily, reminding him of the first time the two of you spoke. You turn to face him and stop to admire his beauty—how the fire cast beautiful shadows across his face, how the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.

“That you don’t,” Tommy hums in agreement, still looking at you. His gaze hadn’t left you since he came home.

It’s silent for a few moments before Tommy says, “Stay.”

“With you?” you ask in slight surprise.

“With me, in Small Heath, with the company—whatever you want. Just stay.”

“You barely know me.”

“Then let me get to know you, Y/N,” Tommy answers, finally saying your name for the first time. He loves the way it spills off his tongue and you equally adore the sound of his voice when he says it.

You nod softly, agreeing with his hearfealt proposition. The two of you spent the rest of the night staring into the fire, allowing your heartbeats and breaths come into sync as you slowly fell asleep.

---

It’s been five years since you had started working for Shelby Company Limited as Tommy’s senior advisor and security specialist, four years since your network of spies had merged with the Peaky Blinders, three years since you and Tommy got married, two years since you gave birth to a set of twins named Benjamin and Mae Shelby, and one year since you had also become a political advisor to your husband and his allies in Parliament.

With your years together, the Shelby family found you to be an intriguing, fascinating, and intimidatingly wonderful woman. They couldn’t comprehend how right you seemed with Tommy. They also couldn’t comprehend how involved you were in their success without them even knowing who you were. However, they love to poke fun at Tommy for basically falling in love with from two interactions.

You were currently at the Arrow House doing the final touch-ups to your makeup for the gala you were hosting in your home. It was a typical charity ball that made sleezy politicians look good in the eyes of their constituants, but you had pressured Tommy to allow you to host it on behalf of the Shelby Family Institute. He had been skeptical, but relented when you reminded him that it wasn’t about giving them a platform to look good, but using their ego to benefit the institute.

“I’ve put the children to bed,” Polly announces as she walks into the master bedroom. The room is obscenely large with a king sized bed in the middle, but Polly can’t help but feel pride every time she visits. It was the both of your hardwork that you got you here and she was proud. “Ben passed out almost immediatley, but you’re right about Mae. She’s a trouble maker.”

You give Polly a smile through the mirror of the vanity you sat in front of, “Thank you, Pol. Really.”

“Where’s that bastard husband of yours?” Polly jokes as she stands behind you, inspecting her pearls in the mirror.

“His study, no doubt,” you joke with a slight smirk.

“The faith the two of you have in my is astounding,” Tommy says sarcastically, immerging through the en-suite dressed in his tuxedo.

Polly rolls her eyes and leaves the room, leaving the couple to stare at each other.

“You clean up well, Mr. Shelby,” you state, smiling as he approaches you. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because of you or your OBE.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I should have continued loving you at a distance,” he comments humourously.

You laugh—a real laugh—and wrap your hands around his neck while his arms immediately find themselves around your waist.

“How’re you feeling, darling?” Tommy asks, referring to the mental and emotional preparation for the event that was about to start downstairs.

“I’m not the biggest fan of a lot of your colleagues, Tom,” you say honestly. “Their wives however...they give me thousands of pounds worth of information every sentence.”

“You never cease to amaze me with that mind of yours,” he tells you honestly.

“And you never cease to amaze me with how verbally affectionate you can be,” you quip back lightheartedly before Tommy softly kisses your lips.

“How ‘bout this?” he says once you pull away. “I take care of getting donations, you take care of getting more leverage on the labour bill I’m looking to pass.”

“Done,” you say with a smile before Tommy kisses you again. You begin to hear cars pull into the driveway when you try to pull away, but he keeps you close.

“Tom,” you giggle, breathless. “Tom, the guests are arriving.”

“I’ve waited for you for years, they can wait for you a little while longer,” he replies with a smirk before kissing you deeply once again.

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