#maybe men will stop holding doors for me or insisting they help me lift a pallet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slasherhaven · 3 years

Note

hi!!

can I request hcs about a reader who is on a trip with her s/o and her best friend, and ends up defending Thomas from a group of other travelers, and ends up probably getting like punched in the face for him.

they have car trouble, and are allowed to stay at the Hewitt household for the night, (solely because reader took a punch head on, and still continued to defend Thomas) only for reader to discover that her s/o is railing her best friend, and u know that that means— death for them, and now Thomas gets to keep reader.

Thomas Hewitt X Reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of blood

Disruptive:

This road trip had been being planned for the last couple of months, the three of you planning on travelling the states, hitting the more rural areas and not just the main tourist destinations. It was supposed to be a an opportunity to get away from everything just for a while.

The plan was in the works for a couple of months, so how hadn't any of you thought to plan ahead if the car broke down?

Ian, your boyfriend, had his head under the hood of the car while you and Cecilia, your best friend since childhood, stood by the edge of the road. Ready to wave down a car if one drove by, but none came. You hadn't seen another car for at least two hours now. You must have hit a very isolated part of Texas.

"Well, I think a professional need to take a look at this" Ian sighed as he closed the hood. "I think there's a gas station a little further down the road, maybe they know somebody who could help" he informed you.

Not wanting to leave your car full of your belongings on the side of the road, you all grabbed your own bag and locked up the car before beginning the walk.

It wasn't a long walk, but the heat made it feel much longer, before you arrived at the gas station. It almost seemed abandoned, looking pretty run down, but their was a truck parked outside by one of the gas pumps.

You walked behind your two friends as you approached the front door, pausing when you heard somebody shouting. With a frown, you stepped back as Ian and Cecelia stepped inside the station. Neither of them noticing that you were no longer following behind.

You considered ignoring the shouting but just couldn't, glancing back at the front door before walking around the gas station. As you walked around to the back of the small building, you saw three men.

One was significantly taller and broader than the other two. It looked like he was just trying to work, hoisting up a crate with an impressive amount of ease, while the two men just berated him.

The larger man just continued to ignore them. You wondered why he didn't respond, surely he could scare them off pretty easy. Maybe he was just trying not to cause any trouble while he worked?

"Hey" you finally spoke up, making the two men look at you. The larger man glanced at you, and that was when you noticed the leather mask. It was curious but you tried not to stare. "Is there a problem?" you asked.

"No problem. Just came for gas, didn't think we'd be treated to a free freak show as well" one of the shorter men jeered.

"Sounds like he's just trying to work and you're just being jerks" you folded your arms over your chest. The larger actually seemed to be reacting to the conversation now, placing the crate down and looking over at you. "Looks like you're just bothering him" you added.

"Just get outta here, we're only messing around" one of the men rolled his eyes.

"Dumb bastard probably doesn't even understand" the other man scoffed.

"He's the dumb one? You're the ones picking on some stranger to make yourselves feel better" you huffed, walking further towards the three men before smirking slightly.

"You know, from my experience if men feel the need constantly put others down and act like the 'alpha', they're usually overcompensating for something" you knew men like this and you knew the best way to get to them was to bruise their ego.

One of the men glared at you, stepping closer, trying to intimidate you. You glanced down at his crotch with a look of disappointment and disapproval. "Looks like the math checks out" you smirked as you met his gaze again, not backing down.

"You little bitch" he growled.

Maybe you had underestimated him...you had thought they were just a couple of jerks, finding some fun in pushing a stranger around, but you had underestimated them. You never even saw it coming but the bastard had punched you. You hadn't expected him to actually violently act out like that. You thought you would bother them enough for them to just storm off, you had been very wrong.

The shout that left you was out of your control, hands coming up to clutch your face after the impact.

You stumbled backwards, knowing you had to get away from these men, but there was suddenly something in front of you. The large man with the mask had moved between you and the two men as soon as they lashed out, squaring his stance and glaring them down, fists clenching at his sides.

Thankfully, the two men came to their senses and realised that they couldn't take the larger man even if there was two of them. They tried not to show fear on their faces but failed as they muttered to themselves, hurrying back round to the front of the gas station.

"Ah shit" you cursed, clutching your bleeding nose.

The large man turned to you with wide eyes. What was he meant to do?

You pinched the soft part of your nose and tilted your head back like you heard you were supposed to do. The man quickly shook his head, stepping closer and cautiously touching your head, making you look down instead.

"Thank you" you thanked him for correcting you. "I've never been punched before" you confessed with a slightly bitter laugh. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there, his feet shifting slightly in the dirt.

Once you had managed to dry your eyes that had started to water, you lifted your head slightly too look at the man. "Are you alright?" you asked, glancing down at your bloody hands once you stopped holding your nose.

The man just nodded, digging around in his pocket before pulling out some clean cloth, holding it out you.

You thanked him again as you accepted it, brining it up to your nose to soak up the blood.

"Is it broken?" you asked. Surely, you would know if it was broken? But he seemed more knowledgeable about this sort of thing that you were, you didn't even know that you shouldn't tilt your head back when your nose was bleeding.

The man hesitated before carefully lowering your hand, letting him examine your nose. Thankfully, he shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief.

You were about to ask his name but got interrupted by a call of your name. You recognised the voice, it was Ian.

"Back here!" you called back to them.

Ian and Cecilia came running around the corner, looking between you and the masked man, their eyes widening them they noticed the blood on your face and the cloth.

"What the hell did you do?" Cecilia snapped at the large man standing beside you, looking like she was ready to set Ian on him, not like he stood a chance if she did.

"Hey, leave him alone, he didn't do anything" you were quick to defend the man again. "Just some assholes" you told them.

"Christ, why are you always doing this sort of shit?" Ian rolled his eyes, seeming more irritated than concerned.

"I didn't know he was going to punch me. I was just trying to help" you muttered, feeling like you were being told off for doing something wrong when you just wanted to help.

"Well, the car is pretty much fucked and-" Ian began to change the subject, giving you an update on the car but he was interrupted by the back door of the gas station swinging open.

"Thomas, what is all this noise?" a older woman asked as she stepped outside. "What happened?" she asked, looking between the two of you, glancing over at your friends.

The man, Thomas as she called him, didn't answer, so you spoke up. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. There were some men causing trouble, I was trying to help but...guess I made things worse" you explained, pulling the cloth away from your nose, noting that the bleeding had slowed.

The woman looked between you and Thomas again, seeming to add things up in her mind. "You took a punch for my boy?" she asked, her expression softening slightly.

"Uh...I guess, just asked them to leave him alone. Guess I pushed it too far" you nodded.

"You with those two?" she asked, gesturing towards your friends, "with the busted car?"

You just nodded and she hummed to herself. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ian and Cecilia moved closer, coming to stand just behind you.

"Alright well...for your trouble, how about you come stay at the house for the night, we can get someone to look at your car tomorrow morning" the woman offered, surprising you.

"Oh we couldn't intrude" you shook your head, hating to be a burden.

"I insist. It's the least we can do" she didn't look like she would take no for an answer.

"Only if you're certain" you looked back at your friends, who just shrugged, alright with the arrangement. "Thank you, this is very kind" you look back at her with a smile.

"I'm Luda May, this is my son Tommy" she introduced herself and the man that was awkwardly standing to the side now.

"I'm Y/n. This is my boyfriend, Ian, and my friend, Cecilia" you introduced your small group.

Tommy frowned under his mask. Boyfriend. Of course. It's not like he even dreamed of getting his hopes up, thinking your kindness was anything more than pity. Still, for some reason, it stung a little. He just couldn't explain why.

"Come on, dear, let me lock up and get you back to the house, get you cleaned up" Luda May offered, placing a hand on your arm comfortingly.

After Luda May locked up the gas station, you all walked back to their home. It was a large but somewhat run down house. Luda May guided you all inside and introduced you to Hoyt and Monty, two rather rude older men, but she had told you not to pay them any mind.

"Thomas, will you help Y/n clean up while I show them to their room?" Luda May asked as you all stepped out of the living room, leaving the two older men behind. Thomas seemed surprised by her request but nodded.

Ian and Cecilia were ushered up the stairs, taking your bag with them as well as their own, while you followed Thomas into the kitchen.

Thomas gestured for you to sit down on a chair and you did, while he grabbed a bowl of water and a clean cloth. He seemed nervous but determined to help, cautiously taking your hands in his to clean them.

You watched your hands, almost in amazement. They looked so small in his hands, he must have been able to break your arm just by holding on too hard.

"Can I call you Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence. He paused for a moment, looking up from your hands to meet your gaze. He had nice eyes. He nodded. "Well, thank you, Tommy. I'm sorry about those men, I hate people like that. You'd think they'd grow out of it when they left school, but they don't" you sighed.

Thomas only nodded again, obviously not a talker but you didn't mind. He still seemed nice enough.

Once your hands were clean, Thomas moved to clean the blood from your face but you noticed how he paused, seeming nervous again. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and you thought that was sweet. "It's alright" you assured him.

Gently placing his hand under your chin, Thomas angled your head up slightly, holding it in place as he wiped away the drying blood from your face. Making sure to be extra careful around your nose.

You stayed still, letting him work. He was a large man with strong arms and large hands, and yet he was being so gentle. Like he was afraid of hurting you. It made you smile a little.

Just as he finished cleaning you up, pulling his hands away from your face, Ian walked into the kitchen. "How's your nose?" he asked, walking over to you, glancing at Thomas suspiciously.

"Good, it's stopped bleeding" you told him with a smile. "Thomas said it's not broken, but it still hurts" you chuckled. It was sore but there was no real harm done.

"Just don't get what you were thinking" Ian huffed, shaking his head.

"Was just trying to help" you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for an argument.

"C'mon, he's like twice my size, I don't think he needs you defending him. I'm sure he could've took a couple of men" Ian scoffed, making Thomas tense again. He had been so relaxed around you, now he wanted to leave the room, feeling like he had done something wrong.

"Ian, stop being rude, you're being an ass" you told him, sounding tired.

"Fucking freak" he muttered under his breath, glancing at Thomas.

"Ian!" you snapped, eyes wide in shock and disgust. "What is wrong with you? Just get outta here" you stood, pointing towards the door. You didn't even want to look at him right now.

Ian just rolled his eyes before leaving the room, not seemed to care about your anger towards him.

"God, Thomas, I'm so sorry" you turned towards the masked man, looking genuinely apologetic and horrified by your boyfriend's behaviour. "I don't know what's been wrong with him lately...never used to be like this" you made a weak attempt at an explanation, sighing as you returned to your seat.

Thomas just shook his head, telling you not to worry about it, but you knew it had bothered him.

"Hey, I'll kick his ass for you as well, if you want" you offered with a playful smile, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

It worked, at least a little. Thomas smiled a little under his mask, you were cute and kind. He liked you and, if he didn't know any better, he would think that you liked him.

Luda May had provided the three of you with one room, the only spare room they had, but that was kind enough in your eyes. She had even invited you for supper with the family. All of you sitting around the table, you sitting between Thomas and Ian, as Luda May dished out the food.

It was a little awkward, eating with complete strangers, so you all mostly ate in silence. "So, where are you lot heading?" Luda May finally asked, breaking the silence and trying to start a pleasant conversation.

"Nowhere in particular" Cecilia shrugged, still being polite.

"Just taking a little road trip. Get away from things for a while, you know?" you added.

Ian and Cecilia had been glancing at Thomas whenever they were in the same room. From behind the gas station to right now at the dining table. You thought it was rude but as long as they didn't say anything stupid, you wouldn't comment on it.

Unfortunately, there was a lull in conversation and Ian thought he would speak up. "Alright. What's with the mask, anyway?" he asked, looking past you to Thomas.

"Ian" you warned through gritted teeth, in complete disbelief with him and frowning at Cecilia when she giggled to herself.

The Hewitt family was looking at Ian, glaring. Thomas had tensed beside you. Shit, how do you save this one?

"Did you make it yourself?" you asked, turning your full attention to Thomas. He just nodded, staring down at his plate, assuming you were going to beginning mocking him. "That's pretty impressive, it looks good. You must be pretty handy" you complimented with a smile. Thomas looked at you with surprise in his eyes but smiled, as did Luda May.

Ian muttered something under his breath that you couldn't understand. You just ignored him, not wanting to risk him causing more trouble.

The rest of the supper was uneventful and you had thanked the family once again before everyone started to turn in for the night.

You had taken a shower before bed. When you returned to the bedroom, you frowned when you saw that both Ian and Cecilia were gone. With a sigh, you left the room and began to search for them.

You couldn't find them anywhere in the house so you stepped outside, onto the front porch. Once you were outside, you heard movement and followed it. Hopping down the steps of the porch and wandering around the side of the house. Maybe they had stepped out for a smoke? You thought Ian had quit, maybe he hadn't...

You followed noise until you heard what sounded like a moan. You frowned and turned the corner, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

Ian was pinning Cecilia up against the side of the house, her bare leg hooked over his hip, his pants bunched down under his ass. They clearly hadn't noticed you.

"What the hell!" you shouted, getting their attention.

They both jumped apart, Ian pulling up his pants and Cecilia fixing her skirt, looking horrified. "Shit" Ian cursed.

"Yeah. Shit" you scoffed. "Are you seriously fucking my best friend?" you asked rhetorically, wondering how he was going to try to talk his way out of this one. He didn't speak. "And you're fucking my boyfriend?" you looked to Cecilia, who looked down at her feet. "Will somebody answer me!" you were tired of being ignored.

"Yes!" Ian snapped, making you flinch. "Obviously that's what we were doing" he rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't lie his way out of this one.

"...how long as this been going on?" you asked.

"About a month" Ian shrugged.

"I can't believe you!" you shouted at him, tears stinging your eyes. You were furious, more from the betrayal than anything. Ian had become a jerk over the last few months but now you were losing your boyfriend and your best friend.

"Look, we can talk this out, alright?" Ian approached you, going to place his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me" you snarled, stepping back. How could he even think that you would be willing to 'talk this out'.

"What the fuck is all the shouting?" Hoyt's angry voice boomed as he rounded the corner.

"God, you are a fucking asshole" you ignored Hoyt, glaring at Ian. "I hope you're real happy together, you deserve each other" you spat before turning around, walking past Hoyt, who watched you leave with an irritated expression.

By the time you had made it back inside the house, tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thomas had been coming to find the cause of all the shouting, nearly running straight into you.

"Oh, uh, sorry Thomas" you apologised as you nearly collided with his chest. You kept your head down, hoping he hadn't seen the tears. But he did, and he worried that you had been hurt, had Hoyt hurt you? He swore he heard Hoyt shouting.

Without thinking, Thomas gently took hold of your shoulders and examined you. You were confused by his actions at first but when you realised what he was doing, you smiled a little.

"I'm not hurt, Tommy" you chuckled, sniffing slightly. He looked so concerned for you, it was sweet. You couldn't remember the last time Ian had looked at you like that when you cried. "So, uh...Ian really is an ass" you laughed bitterly, wiping away some tears. "...he's been cheating on me with Cecilia" you told him, explaining the cause of your tears.

Thomas could kill him. You were so kind and sweet, putting yourself in harms way for a complete stranger. How could he do something like this to you? How could he or your friend betray you like that.

Both of you could hear shouting coming from outside again, it sounded like Hoyt and Ian were arguing.

"Oh god" you groaned, embarrassed by everything that had happened. "I'm so sorry, we shouldn't be bothering you all with this" you were crying again, and getting frustrated with yourself.

Thomas wasn't sure what to do, people didn't normally like being around him but you didn't seem to mind, so maybe you wouldn't mind him comforting you as well. His movements were slow and careful, guiding you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you.

As soon as you realised he was offering you a comforting hug, you accepted it. You wrapped your arms around his waist, just needing somebody to hold you, as you cried into his chest. Feeling more confident, Thomas wrapped his arms around you more securely. His arms were large and strong, making you feel safe. His body practically engulfed yours, making you fell like the world couldn't touch you. It was a nice feeling.

"Thomas?" Luda May asked, also coming to investigate the commotion. "What is all that shouting about...are you alright, dear?" her attention turned to you when she saw that you were crying.

"I, uh..." you sniffled as you pulled away from Thomas, wiping your wet cheeks. You looked up at him and he nodded, reassuring you that you weren't being a burden. "I think Hoyt and Ian are arguing about something outside" you told her.

"Is that why you're crying?" she frowned. Has Hoyt decided to pick a fight even when she had warned him not too?

You shook your head. "...I caught Ian cheating on me with Cecilia" you sniffled again.

"Oh...I'm so sorry" Luda May's expression softened once again. Something flashed behind her yes but it was too quick to name.

"Thomas, will you go and help Hoyt?" Luda May asked calmly, looking up at her son. Thomas squinted at her and she nodded.

Thomas gave you a soft look before leaving through the front door. You didn't like the idea of other people dealing with your problems, but you couldn't argue because Luda May already had your attention again.

"Come on, dear" she took your hand, leading you to the living room and sitting down with you on the couch.

"I'm so, so sorry. You've all been so generous and my friends have been rude and now we're being so disruptive. I'm so sorry" you apologised. This family had tried to be so kind to you all and now you were being completely disrespectful.

"Hush now, it's not your fault" Luda May cooed, gently guiding your head to lay against her shoulder, beginning to stroke your hair. "Tommy and Hoyt will take care of them" she promised.

You just nodded, trying to stop the tears. You were too worked up to dwell on what Luda May meant exactly, just letting her hum and soothe you.

Luda May smiled as she stroked your hair, humming the same tune she would hum to shush Thomas when he was a child. You seemed pleasant, polite and kind. You would make a good addition to the family and you were so good to Tommy. Of course, she had seen how her son looked at you, amazed by your sincere kindness, already falling for you, the poor boy. Your so called friends did not deserve any kindness, but you deserved mercy.

Oh, she hoped you could forgive Tommy, she hoped you would continue to see him as the sweet boy he is.

#thomas hewitt x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher #slashers #my writing

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

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I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy

omggggg that’s so so cute!!

A Bakers Help

The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.

There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.

“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”

Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”

The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.

“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”

There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.

“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.

All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.

In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.

Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.

“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.

Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.

Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.

“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.

“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”

Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.

“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.

Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.

Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!sister #shelby!sister reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #(y/n) shelby #little shelby

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

Cuddle Bunny

Pro Hero!Kirishima x reader with a bunny quirk

So I learned that professional cuddling is a thing and I think Kirishima would go to a Cuddle Cafe. He becomes a little too attached to his professional cuddle buddy with a bunny quirk.

tw: smut, yandere, alludes to a breeding kink

AN: I love the concept of pro heroes going to cuddle clubs because they just want to be cared for. I’m working on a part two for Kirishima and want to write a cuddle cafe for another character eventually. Let me know which hero you think could use a trip to the cafe?

Kirishima has a secret. Nothing bad or necessarily illegal, just sort of embarrassing. See, being a pro hero is great but keeps him busy. Too busy to go on dates and he was never good at one night stands.

Then he heard about something called under ground cuddle cafes. They had become quite popular over the past few years. They weren't against the law. It was just a place someone can go to spend intimacy with another person.

He thought it was a cute idea. Basically all the pillow talk and cuddles without sex or expectations.

For a while he didn't request anyone specific. He was just happy to have someone to talk with and get some oxytocin release.

But then he met you. There was just something about you that drew him in. Maybe it was the way you insisted on having him rest his head in your soft lap while you played with his hair. Most of the other servers just went straight to cuddling on the pile of pillows and soft pads that made up a bed.

You always asked him questions and weren't afraid to tease him when he got too worked up talking about some of his Hero duties.

You had the most adorable bunny quirk and you joked that your floppy bunny ears made you an amazing listener.

He would melt as you cupped his cheeks in your hand.

He started to request you by name and if you were off on a day he came in, he would leave and come back when you were there.

You smelt sweet like cotton candy. And sometimes he would fall asleep. When that happened you wouldn't wake him up, instead allowing the session to run longer but always insisting that there was no need for him to pay for the additional time. After all, a hero needs rest, you would remind him.

He always made sure to leave you an extra good tip on those days.

On the days the two of you would lay down you always offered to give him back massage.

Sometimes the two of you would bicker over who could be the big spoon, but you always caved and let him curl around you. His face would be buried in your hair, nuzzling closer to your ears.

He asked you how you were always able to stay awake; you said it would be unprofessional to fall asleep at work.

Kirishima felt a pang in his chest. Reminded that this was just your job, all he really was to you was a client.

After that he started coming by less. You wanted to ask about it, had you done something wrong? But that also wouldn't be very professional.

Kirishima allowed himself to feel heartbroken. But he knew at the end of the day it wasn't your fault. And he couldn't cut you off cold turkey.

It was his next visit when things really started to change for him. He had almost forgotten that your job could be dangerous.

The door that used to provide you privacy during your sessions was replaced by a thick curtain.

"Someone attacked Ginny," you offered an explanation. "They jammed the door closed so now, no more doors."

The hero's mind immediately starting coming up with worst case scenario's for your line of work.

What is it has be you instead of Ginny? What if someone got too handsy with you? What if they didn't ask for permission before touching your ears - he knew that made you uncomfortable. Or Heaven forbid they try to tug at your tail.

"Why do you work here?" He asked nuzzling toward the crease between your thighs and tummy while the two of you settled on the couch."

"Living is expensive," you smiled. "I didn't really have much work experience after high school and I want to save up some money to go to college."

Kirishima felt bold. He wanted to protect you. He could provide for you and then you wouldn't need to work in such a dangerous job. It was the manly thing to do.

"If I left you a better tip could I be your only client."

It wasn't uncommon for men to proposition you. But there was something so innocent in voice that made you wish you take the conversation further.

"Silly Kiri," You teased him. "I don't think that's something my boss would go for."

He stuck out his tongue, "Well I don't like your boss."

You chuckled and changed the subject.

You genuinely enjoyed his sessions so you didn’t think much of it. He wasn't pushy and he likes to hear your opinions.

This time instead of trying to be the big spoon he pulled you to lay on top of him.

The way you wrapped your arms around his neck while laying on his chest made Kirishima feel like you were made for each other.

He kept his arms around your waist, resting his hands above your fluffy bunny tail.

When the time was up, Kirishima wanted to throw a tantrum. He would happily never move.

But he restrained himself. Instead he helped you to your feet and gave you a pat on the head. He stopped at the front desk to leave his usual generous tip.

That night he tossed and turned, hyper aware of how uncomfortable he was with out you in his arms. He questioned how he had been able to sleep these past few months.

He began to imagine what it would be like to share his bed with you. How much more relaxed he would be knowing you were safe because you were with him. You could finally sleep in his arms. Fluffy tail pressing against his dick. He knew how twitchy your tail and ears could occasionally get and thinking about that sensation pressed against him, teasing him, was enough to make him erect.

His mind began to fantasize about the rest of your body. You were so soft and curvy. You were almost always in sleep wear at work. Opting for cotton shorts and soft camisoles. Leaving just the right amount to his imagination.

He was always respectful of where his hands wandered during his visits. He never allowed his hands to explore the more intimate parts of your body. Of course, he cherished the feeling of squeezing you against his chest in a giant bear hug. Your breasts would push against his chest as he would lift you off the ground.

As he began to stroke himself he thought about how much smaller and softer your hands were than his. He wondered how they would look wrapped around his thick cock.

He would give your ears a gentle tug, careful not to cause you pain, directing your soft gaze up towards him.

To pin you down to his mattress and press his lips to yours. He would leave a trail of sweet love bites down your neck to your nipples.

You are such a perfect bunny. Not corrupted by the world, soft, and caring. He couldn't let you continue offering yourself to others. Not when he was ready to give you his life. You wouldn't want for anything. He would but you all the Nick Nacks you asked for. Whatever clothes, jewelry, or shoes you wanted.

Come to think of it, you were always barefoot at work, at most you wore a cozy pair of slippers. Kirishima thought it made you look cute, the other women who worked there always wore high heels, but not his bunny.

The thought of you in one of his shirts, a tiny pair of sleep shorts, barefoot and pregnant with his child was enough to push him into his climax.

Kirishima felt that he could finally sleep because he decided on the best plan of action. He was going to bring you home. And like a true man he would keep you safe and happy, the same holding true for the kids the two of you were sure to have.

#kirishima x y/n #kirishima #mha x reader #mha yandere #bnha yandere #kirishima x reader #yandere #kirishima smut

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

how they react when you walk in covered in blood and carrying a gun ~ mcu

request?: no

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns and violence

masterlist (one, two)

*only using the og six plus bucky, wanda and loki because there’s way too many marvel characters rn; also based off of a tiktok by anniedvorak!*

BRUCE BANNER/HULK:

The last person you expected to see when you entered Thor’s room on Sakaar with the intentions of saving him was your boyfriend, Bruce. He had been lost for so long, you had let your heart let go of him. But there he was, stood with a cloth wrapped around his waist after having turned back from the Hulk.

You were tempted to walk back out. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted Bruce to see you - an alien gun in hand and blood splattered over your face and clothes. But it was too late, he was already looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N),” he said, turning to approach you but stopping halfway. You weren’t sure if he had stopped because of the blood or because he was still technically naked. “What are you...what did you...?”

“I’m trying to save Thor,” you responded. “Listen, we don’t have much time. I can explain everything once all of us are off of this planet. Put some pants on, we’re getting out of here.”

~~~~~~

BUCKY BARNES/THE WINTER SOLDIER:

You walked in after a surprise run in with the Flag Smashers. Bucky already looked about ready to kill someone, but when you walked through the door of Zemo’s apartment, blood covering your face and your gun clutched tightly in your hand, his face turned red with anger.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked.

“Flag Smashers,” you breathed in response.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Bucky hissed, abandoning his drink on the counter and making his way to the door.

You put a hand up to stop him. “I think that ship has sailed. This isn’t all my blood.”

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, his face softening as he looked at you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “I just need a shower, and maybe a visit to a hospital or something. They hit me pretty hard, I think I have some bruised ribs or something.”

He kissed your forehead and took your gun from your still shaking hands. Once it was safely put aside, he brought you into the bathroom to help you bathe and to start dressing your wounds.

~~~~~~

CLINT BARTON/HAWEYE:

You were extremely lucky that Clint worked with someone like Natasha regularly, or else he would’ve been much more concerned when you arrived home from work covered in blood and still carrying you gun. He barley looked up from the TV as you walked through the door, immediately racing for your bedroom so you could shower and change.

“Hard day at work?” he called as you passed by.

“That last target they sent me after put up a hell of a fight,” you responded. “By the time I finally got him, I realized how late it was and rushed home immediately. I’m glad S.H.I.E.L.D issues those SUVs with the tinted windows or else I definitely would’ve been pulled over for suspicious activity.”

Clint chuckled and rose from his seat. He walked into your shared bedroom as you were pulling off you bloodstained clothes and throwing them into a pile to be tossed out eventually. His eyes raked over your body as you looked up at him.

“Red looks good on you,” he said, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

“That’s gross,” you teased. “You’re gross. Just for that, you can’t shower with me.”

He groaned as you walked into the bathroom and locked the door before he could follow you in.

~~~~~~

LOKI:

The sly smirk on Loki’s face was enough to almost rid you of the annoyance you felt after what you just had to do. Almost.

You walked up to the panel that controlled his glass cage. You could’ve easily figured out how to deal with it, but instead you shot the control panel. Sparks flew from it before Loki’s prison sprung open.

“Seems like a bit of overkill,” he commented.

“Shut it,” you hissed. “You told me it was going to be easy to break you out. You failed to mention the entire team of guards that were watching this room, and, oh yeah, the team of super humans that were assembled to face you?!”

Loki walked free of his cage, taking a dramatic deep breath before smiling to himself. “Well, doesn’t seem like you had an issue with them, as I knew you wouldn’t.”

He approached you, arms out as if he were going to hug you and try to kiss you. You poked his stomach with the barrel of your gun, glaring up at him.

“Come one step closer and we see how much damage a mortal weapon can do to a God.”

Loki put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you a fair distance away to heed your warning. “I’m sorry for not giving you a proper warning. Thank you for freeing me, I do appreciate it.”

You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and smiled a little. “You’re welcome.”

“Now, let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“You’re doing all the work this time.”

~~~~~~

NATASHA ROMANOFF/BLACK WIDOW:

It probably wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t know where else to go. Natasha had always warned you about the Red Room, and you were so stupid to not listen to her.

Now you were stood on her doorstep, covered in blood that wasn’t yours, your gun dangling from your hand as you wished to drop it but also too scared to let it go. It was what Natasha looked at first when she opened the door - the gun, then to your blood covered face.

“Put the gun down,” she said, her voice calmer than you expected.

You gratefully allowed her to take it from your hand as you felt tears starting to well in your eyes. She pulled you in for a hug, where you started to sob on her shoulder. She took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t followed before bringing you into her house.

“Go get cleaned up,” she told you. “We’ll figure out your next step together.”

~~~~~~

STEVE ROGERS/CAPTAIN AMERICA:

You showed up to Sam’s shortly after Steve had brought Natasha. You could barley keep yourself up, the fight had taken everything out of you. You were sure Sam was going to turn you away - you were a stranger showing up on his doorstep covered in blood with a gun in your hand. You were pleasantly shocked when he stepped aside and told you where to find Steve.

Poor Steve. He was already trying to help Natasha, who had been in the same situation as you just with a lot less blood. She was resting when you walked in, dazed and just wanting to also rest.

He was up in seconds, reaching out to wrap you in his arms despite the blood covering you.

“The Winter Soldier is one mean fucker,” you breathed, resting your head against Steve’s chest. “I think he finally got wore out and ran off. Unfortunately, I was wore out about an hour before he was, but I kept going.”

“You should’ve given up long ago, honey,” he said.

“I’m not a pussy,” you said with a slight laugh. “Although I am starting to succumb to the pain.”

He picked you up into his arms and carried you to the bathroom where he helped you to rinse the blood off of your body so you could finally rest.

~~~~~~

THOR:

It was a side of you that Thor had never seen before. He had lost you during the battle in Sokovia and was expecting the worst when he couldn’t get you over the coms. When you showed back up to jet, blood covering your tired looking face, he was overjoyed to see you were alright, but also a little shocked by your appearance.

“Those fuckers really thought they had me,” you said, a half laugh bubbling on your lips. “They were a little shocked when I got the upper hand on them. Even more shocked when I shot them dead.”

“I was worried for you, (Y/N),” Thor said, cupping your face in his hands as he approached you. “I truly thought they had taken you from me.”

You smirked up at him. “You really have no faith in me at all them, do you? Or you just underestimate me. I’m a little offended on both accounts, though.”

Thor smiled back at you. “Of course, I would never doubt you. Just a bit of fear is all.”

“When you two are done being gross,” came Tony’s voice from inside the jet, “we’d like to get back to the tower. I think (Y/N) needs a shower and a fresh change of clothes more than anything.”

~~~~~~

TONY STARK/IRON MAN:

“Miss (Y/L/N) incoming Mr. Stark.”

“Tell her to come back at another time, J.A.R.V.I.S, I’m busy right now.”

“I don’t think it can wait, sir.”

Tony looked up to see you walking through the door to his lab, your body trembling as you clutched the gun tightly in your hand. There was a splatter of blood over your shirt and some on your face. You looked up at him, looking like a helpless child.

He quickly walked over to you, his hand automatically reaching for the gun. You gladly let him take it, feeling like a weight had been lifted the moment the weapon was out of your hands.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I-I was attacked at-at home,” you stuttered. “I don’t know how they got in, I don’t know who they were. I walked into my house and was blindsided by these two men trying to attack me. I got the gun out of the hands of one of them and I...I...”

Your hands moved to mimic the action of shooting your attackers, but you couldn’t actually bring yourself to say you had done it. You didn’t want to admit to having shot anyone, even if it was in self defense.

Tony placed the gun aside and took you into his arms. You stopped fighting against the lump that had formed in your throat and began to sob into his chest. He ran a hand through your hair, calming you down.

“It’s okay,” he said, soothingly. “It’s alright. I got you now. I won’t let anyone else try to hurt you.”

~~~~~~

WANDA MAXIMOFF/SCARLETT WITCH:

You didn’t think of Tommy and Billy. You didn’t think about the perfect neighborhood Wanda had created. You didn’t even think about Vision, or the version of Vision she had created. Your only thoughts were getting to Wanda before Hayward and his people could.

She was horrified when she opened the door. Of course she was; you were stood at her doorstep, a ghost from the life she wanted to forget, holding a gun with blood splattered on your face.

“You have to get out of here,” you said before she could speak. “You have to break down that boarder and you need to get out of here now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice still in its sitcom mode. “Please leave before I call the police.”

You grabbed hold of her shoulders before she could walk away, startling her.

“Wanda, you have to listen to me. You know what’s happening here because you are controlling it all. I know that, everyone outside the Hex knows that. Including the S.W.O.R.D director Hayward, who is trying to break through your barrier right now to kill you. I know you don’t want to lose this perfect life you’ve made, but your are in real danger. You need to get out of here.”

It seemed like she was understanding. A hurt look passed over her face as she turned to look into the house where her perfect family was likely residing. She took a deep breath and turned back to you.

“Let’s go.”

#marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #bruce banner #bucky barnes #clint barton #loki odinson #loki #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #thor odinson #thor #tony stark #wanda maximoff #imagine #preference #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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shokobuns · 3 years

Text

“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”

your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.

PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)

(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT

More.

One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.

It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.

When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.

Knock. Knock.

You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.

Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.

The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.

Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”

“Go away, Satoru.”

Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.

He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.

“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”

“Yeah, can you go now?”

“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.

It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.

“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”

“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.

“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”

“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”

“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”

Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”

He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”

“Nah.”

“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.

“I guess.”

He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.

The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.

Satoru.

Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.

You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”

“Sure.”

He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.

Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

And he’s your step brother.

Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”

“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.

“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.

“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”

“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”

“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.

You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”

“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”

You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.

“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.

The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.

The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.

You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.

Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”

“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.

The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.

“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.

You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets.

Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“S-shut up-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”

His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth.

He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.

“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”

Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”

He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.

Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.

2K notes · View notes

yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 5

You snag exclusive fan meet tickets, but as you shake hands with your favorite idols, something strange happens…

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x Reader / Yoongi x Reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x Reader

Here we gooooo. I have a special place in my heart for Yoongs, I think this might be my favorite handshake yet. Enjoy the craziness!

Warnings: death, blood, guns, stabbing, fighting, bondage, drunk sex, rough sex Yoongi and y/n are just two kinky idiots in love, ANGST so much angst why, let me know if I need to add more I know it’s dark.

Word Count: 10.6k

“So you think if I touched her, it would happen to me too? Is that why-” Taehyung turns to a defeated Jin.

“I don’t know.” He can’t stop thinking about you, his body hurts, his chest hurts.

“I want to try, this is so unfair.” Taehyung whines.

Namjoon sighs, “Well…”

You hear a knocking at the door. Your legs felt numb. How long have you been sitting here? You were too lost in your thoughts, reliving moments that weren’t yours.

“Hello? Unlock the door.”

You know that voice. No way.

You’ve listened to his solo songs on repeat so many times, his deep voice and sharp tongue playing in your ears for hours at times.

For lack of better judgment, you decide to stay silent. You slowly unlock the stall door trying not to make a sound as you tiptoe to the door. You rest your ear against the wood hoping to hear something. You consider maybe it was just another delusion. There is just no way.

“We know you’re in there.” You flinch from the door, the idol’s voice is as clear as day.

“I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do what you think I did..I-I don’t even know what I-I just want to go home. Please...” You put your palm on the door, a superficial gesture you know won’t make a difference, much like a nod to a person over the phone, and rest your head on the door waiting for his response. There is a long silence.

The weary idol stands in front of the bathroom door. He should have let Namjoon handle it, he thinks, why did he volunteer? When security came to tell them you had locked yourself in the bathroom, it brought up old memories he didn’t like thinking about, it made him want to help you. So before anyone else could, he volunteered to get you. But now he felt inadequately prepared, he should have just let Namjoon handle it.

He gestures to the security to give him some space. He rests his head on the door and sighs, instead of reaching for the door handle he rests his hand above it.

“Can I please come in? Open the door, it will just be me, I promise.” The idol switches to Korean, hoping you understand him. “I just want to talk to you. And then you can leave.” Actually, he doesn’t know if it will be that easy, but at this point he would tell you anything to get you to open the door.

He hears the slow scrape of metal as the lock turns. He gives security one last look to stay back before opening the door. You shuffle back quickly as the door opens and in walks Min Yoongi of BTS.

Yoongi shuts the door and locks it again. You try to give him space, but he advances towards you. So you keep giving him space and he puts his hand up in surrender, like someone would when approaching a scared animal.

“Hello.” He greets you in English. This was a bad idea.

“H-Hello.” You both face each other awkwardly.

This was the last thing you’d ever expect to happen, standing alone in a bathroom with BTS’s Suga. You feel like you’re burning up, you wonder how you haven’t managed to pass out as the rapper watches you in silence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I freaked out. I’ll just go home, I promise I won’t ever talk about what happened. I-I mean, I don’t know what happened, nothing-“

“It will be okay. Breath.” He speaks in English to you again. “Take a deep breath. Count to ten.”

You’re shaking again. He’s being so nice to you, it makes you want to cry even more.

“C’mon, count.”

You start counting in shaky Korean, glancing over at the rapper who tries to hide a smile at the way you recite the words like a school child taking a test, you finish and feel like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, your own lips curving upward as you begin to relax.

“Do you understand me when I speak Korean?” Yoongi says in Korean. You nod.

“Do you understand me when I speak in English?” The rapper nods back. “Most of it, yes,” he confesses.

You stand there awkwardly too scared to speak, gripping the sink counter to steady yourself, your reflections stare back at you in the bathroom mirror. The rapper looks perfect in his button down and styled hair, you on the other hand-

You laugh, “Oh god, I look horrible.” You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face to get rid of your dried tears.

“No you don’t.” The rapper leans on the counter looking at you, grabbing a paper towel to hand to you. He is making it very hard for you to pretend he’s not there.

You watch him through the mirror’s reflection, “Thank you.” The words barely come out of your mouth. You turn around and lean on the counter beside him, making sure to keep your distance. ‘This is the weirdest night of my life,’ you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

The two of you stand there next to each other in silence for a painfully long time.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hand palm side up and gives you a sideways glance. “I owe you, don’t I?”

You stare at his hand, study the silver rings around his fingers.

“...A handshake.”

“What?” You can only gawk at him.

“You paid all this money for handshakes from all members...”

That was not what you expected. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You grip the counter tighter, “I don’t want to, really, it’s okay.”

“I insist.” You can hear the frustration in his voice.

“No...It’s okay. I won't hold it against you.”

Yoongi frowns, slowly lowering his hand, feeling stupid. How is he supposed to get you to touch him?

He chews on his bottom lip and sneaks a glance at you again. Against all his instincts, when he realized he had another chance to see you, he took it with no question. You scared him and yet he felt himself gravitating to you. Everything that transpired had given him so many questions, and you were the only answer. “Please, I want to know-I want to know if it’s true.” Yoongi pauses, “I just want to understand why I feel the way I do being around you.”

You realize just how close the rapper stands next to you, your shoulders almost touching, had he moved closer and you didn’t even realize it? Did you?

You glance over at him, he looks so vulnerable and lost, nothing like the intimidating idol who stood in front of you at the fanmeet. He seemed so untouchable, now he’s asking you to do just that. You want to give in, you think it’s the least you can do for him, and then he’ll realize his mistake and let you go home.

You brace yourself and push away from the counter behind you, turning to face the rapper.

“Okay, but you’ll probably regret it,” you whisper, extending your hand.

Yoongi goes to grab your hand but you move yours just out of reach before he has a chance to, “Don’t say I didn't warn you...” Yoongi nods to you. He grabs your hand.

“Can you let go of me already.” You whisper as Yoongi holds you in a death grip.

“Yeah, let’s just blow our entire cover.” Yoongi hisses. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. Yoongi doesn’t do field missions, his talents are long range. Away from people, especially you.

“And can you stop looking at me like that, you’re supposed to be acting like my wife,” he warns lowly in your ear, you think he’s going to dislocate a finger the way he’s squeezing your hand. Yeah right, like you would ever marry a man like Min Yoongi.

You’re annoyed. Annoyed at the man next to you, annoyed they required you to have a male partner at all, like you needed a babysitter to do your job. On top of it all, it had to be him.

The gala you walk into is being held for top diplomats and politicians from all over the world. You let Yoongi pull you through the crowds as you scan the room for your target, a corrupt delegate who has a swath of information that could be useful to the state. You pull on Yoongi’s arm to get his attention, “Your left, 9 o’clock.”

He pulls you closer before you can advance on the target, grabbing your chin to face him instead, to anyone else it would look like a romantic gesture, for you it’s just another tactic Yoongi uses to keep you leashed to him. “We should make sure there aren’t any threats first.”

You’ve never been a woman to accept the cages men tried to confine you to, you have claws and you know how to use them. You lean into Yoongi, you can feel his body stiffen as you press your chest against his. You place a kiss on his cheek, bringing his arms around you until he gives in and grips your body instead, “That’s your job isn’t it, let me do mine,” you give him your best smile, but your eyes show him your true emotions as you glare at him with hatred. And with that, you were able to slip away from Yoongi’s grasp.

You drop your suitcase onto the only bed in your small hotel room. You know you needed the sharp shooter to complete the mission, but why did you have to share a room with him too? And why do they keep assigning Yoongi to you? You’re a top agent, you could easily complete this mission with an amateur, anyone but the smug sniper who is making his way toward you now.

“We need to be on site at 23:00, so go do something while I sleep.” The agent starts unbuttoning his cuff, paying you little attention.

“So I’m not supposed to get any rest?” You cross your arms and frown at the jaded man in front of you, “What the hell am I supposed to do while you’re getting your beauty sleep?”

“Not my problem.” Yoongi is sleep deprived and more irritable than usual. “You slept on the plane ride here, I know because your snoring kept me up the entire flight.”

You feel your face go hot with anger and embarrassment. “Well, I’m not leaving. This is my room too!”

“Do what you want! I don’t care.” the sniper yells. He needs to sleep so he can keep you safe, he thinks, ‘ungrateful brat.’

He moves past you shoving his shoulder into yours. In your anger, you shove him back. He turns around glaring at you, then decides to shove you again, this time with his hands. Yoongi is stubborn, but you’re more stubborn, you push him again, and now you’re in a shoving match with your own partner.

“Will you stop!” he yells, pushing you so hard your back hits the hotel wall.

“You first!” The next time you push your hand into his shoulder Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you hand forward, slamming his chest into you and crushing you between his body and the wall.

He glares down at you, his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Why did he do that? ‘Ugh idiot,’ and now you're thinking about his lips, the thoughts make you glance down. ‘Fuck, why did I do that?’ He catches the movement of your eyes.

You stand trapped against his strong frame, you think about elbowing him away, sweeping his feet and knocking him out for daring to test you like this, but you needed him at the top of his game for tonight. You squirm in his grasp while he stares down at you with an unreadable expression.

Eventually, when you feel like the pounding of your pulse might give you a heart attack Yoongi removes himself from you and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. You hear the shower start. ‘Why does it have to be him,’ you wonder, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You decide to go grab some food. There’s a pit in your stomach, it must be hunger you think.

---

You walk the perimeter of the house, leaving the man you coaxed into bringing you into his home asleep in his bed. The sleep sedatives you laced in his drink made sure he wouldn’t bother you while you search his mansion. You had to work quickly and quietly.

“Two guards, headed your way.” Yoongi’s voice comes through in your earpiece, letting you slip into an empty room undetected.

“Clear?”

“Clear.” Yoongi’s deep voice crackles in your ear.

You make your way down the third floor hallway until you reach a large door.

Yoongi watches you through heat sensor binoculars. “There are five guards behind that door, do not engage.”

“I guess I’m getting warmer then.” You remove the knife around your thigh. “Do you have a clear shot on any of them?”

The sniper sees three windows, two blocked almost entirely by a curtain, the last only slightly covered, the situation was not ideal. “Negative. You’ll have to push them to the far open window so I can get a better shot.”

You look at the large windows of the hall you stand in. “Do you have a clear shot on me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You smirk, “You ruin your perfect record? Doubt it.”

You knock on the door, ignoring Yoongi hissing in your ear, “So much for the element of surprise.”

“This is not the bathroom!” You stab the first guard in the neck. As he falls, clutching his throat and spluttering for air, you hug your body to the wall. When the next guard runs out you kick the pistol out of his hand. He fights against your advances, he’s strong and trained, but even then one can only take so many stabs to the body. The rest of the men advance on you, two drop, you see the bullet holes in their skulls.

“Thanks-” the last man lunges at you, putting you in a chokehold. He’s tall, he lifts you up and you lose your footing. You swing your knife, blade piercing his arms, but his hold on you stays. You kick in his grasp, your legs make contact with the wall and you both go down.

“I don’t have eyes on you. Get him in my sight!” You’d like to yell at Yoongi that that’s exactly what you were trying to do, but the guard’s hold on your windpipe makes it impossible. You aim your knife for his sides until his grip on you lessens. You roll off of him and start crawling, hoping he falls into your trap. He grabs your leg, you use the momentum to twist your body and kick him in the chest, before he falls on his back, he’s already dead. You can always count on Yoongi to never miss a headshot.

“Like I was saying, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse. Yoongi scoffs in your ear.

As you work to open the safe you’ve located, you hear Yoongi’s voice again, “Get out of there now! Twelve guards headed your way!”

“Just twelve?” You grab the dead mans’ guns and barricade yourself in the room. You pull every curtain you see down and fall to the floor just in time as gunfire fills the room.

Yoongi watches you take the men down one by one. You move in a chaotic dance around the room, there’s a preciseness to your movements, and also a wildness in your actions. You’re like a feral tiger, eating your targets alive. Yoongi’s impressed. The sniper lines up shot after shot, giving you as much cover as he can offer. He tries to keep your bloodshed to a minimum, you set up the pins, he knocks them down.

He is more than happy to deal the final blow. As he adds another tick to his total body count, he hopes you’ll be okay. Physically, he knows you’ll be fine, but mentally, he worries about you. Memories with you after similar missions still haunt him, the quiet anguish that fills you after every big bloodbath. It’s become a ritual to spend nights together after a mission, neither of you able to sleep soundly, you’d often wonder out loud to Yoongi if the dead men had wives or children, ask if it bothered him, ‘destroying families.’ It didn’t, if he’s being honest, they were horrible men and their families were probably better off without them in his eyes, but he knew it bothered you.

So, he doesn’t mind killing for you, it’s not because he cares about you, no, it’s just easier to get through missions that way. He would rather have everyone think you’re a tiger, Yoongi knows the truth.

Yoongi pulls you back, concealing your bodies from the advancing enemies. You look at him questionly. He places a finger to his mouth to keep you quiet. He signs with his hands, ‘two,’ ‘ahead,’ ‘you wait,’ ‘I’ll go around.’ You nod in agreement. You wait, straining your ears to hear signs of struggle. You hear footsteps running towards your direction. You grab the enemy and knock him out before he can make a sound. Yoongi is pulling you away, handing you a black bag you assume is full of data your agency so desperately wanted. You make a quiet getaway, grateful you can hide in the shadows and follow Yoongi to your escape: a boat that can get you to international waters. You stretch and watch the night sky as Yoongi starts the engine. “I didn’t die.” you hum.

“You say that like you’re disappointed.”

You snort, kicking the bag you and Yoongi risked your lives for. You turn to him, “Thank you, comrade, you saved my life.”

Yoongi shuffles uncomfortably, you’re being pleasant and it’s weird. “You’re welcome.”

“We make a good team, hmm?”

You sit on Yoongi’s workbench. In his space. The two of you work in silence as you put together the pieces of your handgun. He cleans the parts of his sniper rifle. He hands you the last piece of your weapon, it’s easier working here with him, his office is quiet. He doesn’t try to make small talk with you, you hate small talk. Your days are not “good.” You’re sick of using your body to lure in your targets, having to do things more than what you’re comfortable with on multiple occasions to complete the mission. But as a female agent, sometimes you think that’s all you're good for, and they would kill you if you tried to leave now. Escaping and living a quiet life without the man who sits next to you, not being able to protect him, you don’t want that either.

You hop off the table, Yoongi had also gotten up from his chair to grab more rags and you collide into each other. He grabs your waist to steady you. You bodies press against one another. You hold your breath. As his strong hands move you to the side, he mutters a sorry.

Yoongi is livid. He is slamming drawers and yanking open cabinet doors as you slowly make your way to sit onto the medical table. The safehouse is empty except for you and him.

“Are you insane or just stupid?” Your partner advances on you hastily, a medical kit in his hands.

You roll your eyes, “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” The blood seeping from your side and over your fingers betrays your words.

Yoongi yanks your hand away and grabs the tattered corners of your blood covered shirt and rips it. You try to stay stoic as you sit in front of him in only a bra while Yoongi works to clean and bandage your wound. His actions are so aggressive your body jerks back and forth from his movements. He pulls a bandage particularly tight and you yell, glaring at him. He glares back at you.

“You could have died.” Yoongi says softly. He keeps his eyes trained on your wound, adding the image to the list of reasons on why he doesn’t get close to people.

“And you would have died.”

His hands drop to the medical table as he cages you in. His dark eyes bore into yours, you hate how it makes you feel: vulnerable. “Don’t risk your life for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

---

“Tell me how much you want me.” Your partner’s low voice whispers in your ears. You think you’d rather die.

His fingernails scratch your scalp as he grabs a hold of your hair and yanks back, pulling you against his front. Your hip digs painfully into the dresser in front of you, as he pushes his body closer to yours. Your face feels tight, the pain burns your scalp, a reminder that you still can feel something. Everything in your life makes you feel numb, but Yoongi makes you feel alive. You hate how addicted you’ve become to his touches.

“If you don’t say it, you won’t get anything,” he tuts, tightening his hold on your hair and a moan escapes you. He pulls your head back and places soft kisses on the column of your neck.

Yoongi waits, his lips attached to your neck as he grinds his hard erection into your ass until you lose yourself to pleasure, unable to take his teasing any longer.

“I want you.”

“I can’t hear you.”

You grind your teeth, “You’re pushing it.”

Yoongi grabs your breast, “Tell me, kitty.” His rough hands on your body is exactly what you want, makes you drip with arousal, but you’ll never tell him that. Instead, you move your hands behind you and grab at his hard erection.

“I can’t seem to remember what I was going to say, do you?” You run your hand down his length and squeeze, his hold on your hair loosens ever so slightly as his breathing turns shallow.

He’s used to your stubborn nature by now, but this kind of fight is something you’ll never win. Yoongi grabs your wrist and holds your arm in place, twisting your arm in a lock and bending you over the dresser. You struggle against him, as he opens your legs wider with his own. “You know kitty, you’re not invincible. Always ready to start a fight. If you’re not careful, someone might decide to teach you a lesson.”

You can see him out of the corner of your eye. He normally looks so composed, but the way he stares down at you so hungrily, he looks wild, eyes blown wide by lust.

“And is that you?” you laugh, grunting as he pushes down on you, grabbing your other arm and locking it behind your back. The weight of him against your back increases, stealing air from your lungs. His low voice whispers teasingly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “Do you want it to be me?”

Yoongi stands, watching you struggle against his hold. He knows it would be easy for you to get away from him if you really tried, and the knowledge that you’re submitting to him in your own stubborn way makes his body hot and dick throb. He squeezes your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your center. You’re so wet, your underwear drenched in arousal. He bites back a moan, pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing deep circles into you and forcing a whine to escape your lips. He lifts up your skirt, yanking the wet fabric of your underwear down to your thighs. Then his touch becomes slow and teasing. He runs his fingers along your slit, drenching his digits in your essence and bringing them to his mouth. You taste so good, fuck he can’t get enough of you, Yoongi is going to wreck you.

You watch him licking his fingers, the erotic scene making you clench unsatisfyingly around nothing. “Please…” you whisper, the sight of him had broken down your walls.

Yoongi unzips his pants and pulls himself out. He takes no more time, plunging into your heat suddenly. You shudder, it feels so good to have him inside you. He finally lets go of you to grip the flesh of your hips, slamming into you over and over. The force of his thrusts takes your breath away, as your body shifts up and down against the hard surface of his dresser.

With every thrust you feel the tension in your body uncoil, you never want this to end, you’d rather drown in the pleasure he’s giving you then come up for air and deal with the pain of your life. “You feel so good-fuck me harder!” The words leave your lips without thought. You don’t want to feel anything else but his bruising touches, you don’t want to think of anything else but him.

Yoongi grips your shoulder with one hand, moving your body to meet his thrusts as his pace becomes brutal. Your entire body vibrates with pleasure as he manhandles you. You pulse around him as you let go. Yoongi goes faster, using your body to climax, you let yourself moan freely, losing yourself to the pain and pleasure of overstimulation. You can feel him filling you up as he shakes against you.

Your world comes back into focus as you gasp for breath, your body slumped against the desk. “Is that all you’ve got? Hardly a lesson.” Yoongi laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle. He lifts you up and throws you onto the bed. You land with a huff.

---

The silence is deafening as you lay across from your partner. The twin bed in the cheap motel room you share makes it impossible for either of you to have your own space. Neither of you can sleep, and you’re both too tired to complain about the situation, so you stare at each other in the darkness, the neon lights outside your window bathe your faces in soft hues of blue. The cheap sheets scratch your skin, you can feel the hard edges of your gun underneath the old thin hotel pillow, but the soft fabric of Yoongi’s long sleeve shirt feels nice against the back of your hand. You absentmindedly brush your hand against his arm, your fingers play with the baggy material, rolling the fabric between your fingers. Yoongi places his free hand over yours to stop your actions. You’re too tired to question him, nor do you want to break the silence. Yoongi’s features are calm, his hardness is all gone tonight, when he relaxes you think he looks quite soft. Tonight Yoongi doesn’t look like a trained killer at all, his messy hair frames his face and his usual cold eyes radiate warmth. You study each other through half open eyes. Eventually, Yoongi closes his eyes, but doesn’t remove his hand from atop yours. “Go to sleep,” he grunts.

You take a deep breath out. You focus on Yoongi’s steady breathing, trying to keep your heavy eyes open, scared of what you’ll see once you close them, faces of the dead petrified corpses that always reveal themselves against the darkness of your shut eyelids. You study the soft features of your partner instead, able to memorize the details of his face while you’re so close to him. You think of him until sleep takes over.

---

You groan in pain, not ready to open your eyes to the morning light. Your throat is sore and dry, and your entire body aches, especially a certain part of you, the realization snaps you awake. You realize you’re not alone in your bed, you open your blurry eyes to a head of jet black hair. A man sleeps on your naked chest, you can feel his lips against your breast as he quietly snores. You realize his messy locks, the slope of his nose and contours of his muscular arm are all familiar to you, because he’s not a stranger at all. Memories of last night come back to you slowly.

Images of your partner offering you his bourbon, and you gratefully accepting. The pleasant conversation you had together, no arguing or superfluous challenging, just meaningful stories and gentle banter. You remember your partner’s flushed face, the timid smile he tried to hide against his glass, his dark eyes pulling you in. The drunker you became the more you gravitated towards him, until you were pressed up against him, moaning against his lips as his tongue explored your mouth, and you begging him to fuck you. No no no no no.

A wave of mortification and humiliating arousal hits you. You shove your partner off you.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi’s head is pounding, and your punches are not weak. It’s too damn early to be fighting with you already, Yoongi thinks. He pins you down, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He yells, not understanding why you’re here or why you suddenly decided to attack him.

The way his hands pin your wrists brings on another wave of memories that invade your mind and makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. He looks down at you and notices the purple bruises littering your neck and chest, your chest that is absent of a shirt, and your very naked body, against his very naked body. He let’s go of you in his shock. You scoot away from him, pulling the bed sheets up to cover yourself. He stares at you, mouth wide open, trying to place the pieces of last night together. “Oh fuck.”

“This will never happen again.”

His eyes scan your body as his hazy mind replays the events of last night, his face goes red at thoughts of you writhing under him. Yoongi was so desperate to explore your body, make you moan his name. He prays you were too drunk to notice how badly he wanted you. “Never.”

---

You spot three guards in front of the door, ‘a little excessive,’ you think. You grin to yourself as you run through every possible take down you can use against them. They’re big men, and big men always underestimate women.

Yoongi sits patiently, the blindfold doesn’t permit him to see, but he smirks to himself as he hears the sounds of struggle outside.

He hears the door open and close, feet circling him. He struggles against his restraints. Suddenly he feels a weight in his lap. The blindfold is pulled off and he meets your self satisfied face smiling at him.

“Took you long enough.”

You pout. “I should leave you here.”

You press your lips against his. Pulling him close by the hair. He grunts into your mouth. You press yourself down on him, grinding into his hardening length.

Yoongi struggles against his restraints, wanting to pull you closer to him. “Untie me.”

There’s a glint in your eye as you pull away from him. You kiss his neck instead, sucking hard on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“You’re going to regret not listening to me, kitty.” Yoongi growls.

You laugh against his skin, working to undo his belt. Yoongi groans as you grip his length.

“I thought you were supposed to be rescuing me.”

“I am,” you lick your lips, “but then you had to go and let yourself get tied up.” You hop off his lap and kneel between his legs, Yoongi flexes his arms against the ropes, watching you intently. You bring the head of his shaft to your lips and kiss. The chair shakes as he pulls against his restraints groaning, you give him mercy as you suck him into your mouth, enjoying the way he struggles to keep his composure.

“You’ve had your fun,” he tries to hold in his moans, “you’re going to get yourself captured too because you're such a needy slut for my cock.” He thrusts his hips up, making you choke. It doesn’t deter you, as you press yourself deeper, your nose against his stomach, he shudders and the ropes dig into his wrists as he pulls harder against his restraints.

You pull off of him and look at him with a smirk. “I took care of the guards.” As if you already know Yoongi's next words you say, “I took care of all the guards.” Bringing your mouth around his length again, you suck him hard. You suck him down until you gag, over and over again until you can feel him swell, close to release, and you pull away. If looks could kill, you would have been added to Yoongi’s headcount. You jump to your feet and start cutting away the ropes that bind him.

“I’m untying you only because we are running out of time, not because you asked me to.”

He grunts, thinking of all the ways he’s going to use your body. “Noted.”

When free, Yoongi brings you into a crushing kiss, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Dangerous girl, you deserve to be punished.”

---

You allow yourself to rest against the cold concrete floor, making yourself comfortable in the dirt and grime. Your muscles are sore, and you’re tired. You’re tiredness doesn’t just come from surviving the mission, you’re sick and tired of it all. You were the first to make it to the scheduled rendezvous point, maybe the only one left. You hear footsteps and turn to see your partner jogging towards you, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he’s winded, skin covered in dirt from his hasty escape. When he sees you, he runs over to you, his eyes scan over your body but he doesn’t touch you. Your clothes are drenched in blood, but it’s not your own. You look like the walking dead, and you think you deserve to die, you’re a monster.

Yoongi sprawls out next to you, massaging his sore muscles. “If you had let them live your identity would have been compromised.” He knows you had no choice but to kill them. “You did what you had to do to complete the mission.”

“Stop talking, please.” You stare at his dirt covered face, you’re glad he made it out alive, and you wished you hadn’t. Your target had brought his wife and daughter, the agency didn’t warn you, or maybe they knew and didn’t care. You think about the love they must have had, so great he couldn’t be apart from them, and you not only took their lives, but took that love and destroyed it. You knew you were a killer, but you never thought you’d be a villain. You reach for your partner’s hand. He grips you tightly, his fingers are black with dirt, yours are stained with blood. You feel the weight on your chest become even heavier. You wonder if he could ever love you like that, you wonder if you’d just end up destroying that as well.

You lay asleep in Yoongi’s bed. His fingers run along your arm that rests on his chest. During the twilight hours, while you drift off to another world in your slumber, Yoongi allows himself to fully love you. He intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses the soft skin of your wrist, wrapping his arms around your sleeping frame. He let’s himself pretend you’re not in each other's company only for convenience, but because you love him as much as he loves you. He shouldn’t love you, love is too dangerous for people like him, love is a risk too big to take. But until the sun comes up again he gives in to his weaknesses. When you wake, he’ll be strong for you again, he’ll be your shield and protect you from everyone including himself.

---

“So you don’t want to work with me anymore?” You barge into Yoongi’s workspace. He keeps his face emotionless, choosing to ignore you.

So you press on, “I’m with Petrov now, I didn’t request a new partner, so it had to have been you. Why? Answer me!”

Yoongi leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “You’re overreacting, he’s new, they probably want you to show him how it’s done-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“There’s a good reason-”

“You’re lying, you’re doing that thing with your hands when you lie!” You yell.

Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, his anger getting the better of him, “Fine, maybe I don’t want to be your partner anymore!” You stay silent. “You’re reckless, you never listen to me, you almost died on our last mission. I’m...I’m tired of worrying about you.”

Your chest tightens in pain, his words sting more than any blade or bullet you’ve ever taken. You try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at you. ‘Coward,’ you think. You scoff, “Fine...Good...I don’t want to work with you either.” You turn on your heels to leave.

“Wait!” Yoongi stands from his desk and rushes after you. When you refuse to listen, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Please, stop,” he whispers in your ear.

You place your arms over his, let his warmth envelope you. You don’t understand him, he’s holding you like you’re about to break in his arms, but he’d let you go off into a mission without him? How could he do this to you? You thought you were a team, you thought you were...friends. You used to feel safe in his arms, now you just feel betrayal. You bite your lip, your sadness turns into bitterness, your bitterness into anger.

You dig your nails in his arms until he hisses and lets you go. You give your partner one last look before exiting his office, you give him one more chance. If he takes it, you’ll find a way to forgive him, to fix whatever it is that made him angry enough to break the bonds between you. But he stays silent, his silence speaks volumes, “Like you said, you don’t have to worry about me any longer. I'm not your problem anymore.” You slam his door shut.

Yoongi’s body is shaking. He slams his fist against the door. He rests his forehead against the wooden surface and swallows down the growing pressure in his throat, processing everything that just occurred. He made the right choice, this was for your own protection, he wouldn’t allow you to care more about his life than your own, he knows he’s right, so why does he feel so sick?

Your reputation precedes you, the tigresse, a top agent. You pull off impossible missions. Maybe it’s because you just don’t care if you can finish the job or not, you’ll choose the riskiest plays, find yourself in the most dangerous scenarios; you’ll choose the more daring escape route, and because of that people are afraid of you, even in your own agency. No one wants to work with you for too long, and you don’t want them to either, so you finally get what you wanted, to work alone. You’re at the top, all alone, there’s no congratulations in your line of work, no happiness.

Yoongi doesn’t have to worry about anyone anymore, even himself. On missions he used to view his sniper rifle as an extension of himself, now he feels just as cold and hollow as the barrel of his rifle, he’s become an empty killing machine. He can’t sleep at night, he wakes up to nightmares of you dying over and over again. Eventually, when he can’t take it anymore, he convinces his superiors to let him act as your backup without your knowledge, they only allow it because you’ve become too valuable to lose. He still can’t sleep at night, slowly losing his mind in solitude, trapped in a cage of loneliness by his own doing. He becomes a shadow, a ghost, making sure the legacy of their best agent survives.

You search for cover, the bullet holes in your body make every movement slow and painful. The holes in your leg keeps you on the ground. You pull yourself through the sea of dead bodies as bullets fly through the air.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, you start to aim your pistol.

“What are you doing here?” The gunman ignores you as he pulls your bloody body into his arms and runs.

Yoongi watched you from his post get shot, one, two, three times until he couldn’t take it anymore. When he couldn’t protect you from a distance anymore, he left his post, his decision as instantaneous as a traveling bullet.

He hides you and him, holding you close, looking over your wounds. He tries to put pressure on the bullet holes, but there are just so many. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I was supposed to protect you.”

You touch his face, you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cold fingers, he’s real. “You’re here.”

Yoongi’s trained ears listen to the gunfire as it becomes louder, a sign he needs to move again. He reloads his assault rifle, heaving you up to your feet. You groan as more blood gushes from your wounds. Yoongi uses his assault rifle to make another path for you and him. Your ex partner drags your body along, hiding again to reload.

“You need to save yourself. I’m not going to make it.” You say as you cough up blood. Yoongi pulls you up again, ignoring your words, refusing to accept he can’t save you. As he runs a stray bullet hits his shoulder and you both go down. Yoongi shoots to where he thinks the bullets came from, but his shoulder makes it difficult for him to aim.

“Stop! You can’t die too!” You aim your pistol at the two men advancing upon you from Yoongi’s blind spot. You manage to shoot one, but your blood loss makes your vision hazy and your aim too wide. The second man’s bullets hit Yoongi’s side. Yoongi adjusts his rifle and takes quick revenge. He doubles over in pain.

You grab his hand, your breathing is too shallow to tell him all the things you want to say. “Save yourself...”

“And leave you again? Never.”

Yoongi holds you until you take your last labored breath, and holds you still, until his own blood loss becomes too much.

---

Yoongi doubles over, crashing into you. You try to hold the rapper up, but you are faring no better, your body shakes in phantom pain. His entire weight is on you, you move against the wall for support as both of you try to catch your breath, his head leans on your shoulder, and he groans in agony. You grip his arms. Should you push him away? But you don’t want to. You want to pull him closer. You grip his arms harder, frozen, your mind and body remembering, remembering everything, and it takes every last bit of your willpower not to react.

Finally, after your breaths have settled, he steadies himself on his feet, still pressed against your frame. He lifts his head, you can feel his breath on the side of your face. He laughs weakly against you, “I don’t regret it.”

“What-“ his eyes pierce through you. You realize he hasn’t moved away from you still, you stare back into the idol’s eyes, it all feels so familiar, too familiar...

His nose brushes against your cheek, you hold your breath at the sensation, it’s so familiar. His lips ghost over yours and when you don’t pull away Yoongi presses his lips firmer onto yours.

You feel electricity in every vein, to the tips of your fingers, to the ends of the hair. Emotions that felt like distant memories scorch through you. Your legs buckle.

Yoongi had only meant to give you a quick kiss, just to see how it would compare to his wild memories, but the feelings that came over him overtook every sense of reason left in him. He deepened the kiss. You pulled him closer to you, it was automatic.

He felt his sanity slipping away with every inhale of your scent, a sprouting desire burst through him, a need everlasting lifetimes, it made him desperate to devour you. He pushes his leg in between yours to hold you steady when he feels you falling against him. You yell against his lips, his touch is too overwhelming and you feel yourself slipping away, you try desperately to stay in the moment, remember who you are to him actually. You push him away to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-“

You both jump at the pounding from the door. “Both of you need to come out now.” His voice is muffled, but you’d recognize the distinctive cadence of the BTS leader anywhere. Yoongi mutters words you don’t understand. You yelp as he grabs your hand, leading you to the door.

Namjoon is greeted by the sight of his bandmate and you looking particularly guilty as you leave the bathroom. The way Yoongi holds your hand does not go unnoticed by the leader.

You walk in between the rappers, security following behind you. You can tell Namjoon is annoyed, the way he glances at the nonexistent space between you and Yoongi and clenches his jaw. What are you supposed to do, not hold Min Yoongi’s hand? The firm hold he has on you is the only thing that’s keeping you from falling apart into an anxious puddle on the floor. So instead you spend the walk mentally screaming at yourself.

Namjoon opens an unmarked door and walks in, Yoongi follows directly behind him, pulling you along. You realize where you are as five more pairs of eyes meet yours.

They are all staring at you. You want to run and hide. You move behind Yoongi instead. He hasn’t let go of your hand, and every man in the room notices it.

Namjoon goes first, “We all need to talk.”

---

“So now do you admit it!” Jimin looks between Yoongi and you with a frown.

“He promised he wouldn’t touch her.” Jungkook whines to Namjoon.

“I didn’t promise. I said I wouldn’t...I changed my mind.”

You listen to the group argue glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder, you make eye contact with Jin. His eyes are still red, like he hasn’t stopped crying. For the first time since he grabbed you, you wanted to let go of Yoongi’s hand. Jin is the first to break away, he turns around, overwhelmed. Your face is still perfectly clear in his mind. Your words replay like whispers in his ear, ‘find me.’

You break away from Yoongi and address everyone.

“Uhh, I don’t know...” you start, “I don’t know how any of this works, or why it’s happening in the first place. But it is happening right? It happened to you too?” You look around at their faces, you look into Jimin’s eyes, “You saw me too, I was with you, you looked different, but deep down, it was you.” Jimin shifts uncomfortably under your eyes, he feels his chest tighten at your words, “and you saw me in her too.” You turn to J-Hope. “Right? Please tell me I’m-” you whisper the last part, “I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Hoseok answers you immediately, looking at you with a guilty expression.

Jungkook is nodding up and down at you rapidly.

“I was with you..” Jin walks over to you, but stops before he gets too close, “It felt so real...I was there with you on the cliff…” his eyes are so sad it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“How is this even possible…” Jimin speaks up, “I just don’t understand.” Jimin looks upset. He doesn’t want to believe any of this, none of it makes sense to him.

You can see the pain in their faces clearly. You feel like you’ve done something horrible. All you wanted to do was meet your idols and thank them for making your life better, but you ended up making their lives worse, and you don’t know how or why.

You rub your eyes before you start crying again, “I’m sorry. I should go home, it’s-" you check your phone screen. “One thirty in the morning?! I should leave!”

You jump as the room fills with protests from the men. They all quickly stop as soon as they start. You all stare at each other.

Namjoon takes charge. “How did you get here? We can have a driver take you home! We have to go to the hotel now, before you go home, we can finish talking there.” There is a finality to his words.

You stand there wide eyed, ‘hotel’?

---

So now you sit alone in the back of a large car with four managers. They have given you forms to fill out. A stack of papers full of NDAs. You felt like you were signing your life away. You wanted to tell them to take you home, but you stayed silent, you didn’t want to cause anymore trouble.

You follow the managers through the hotel into an elevator, to the top floor. They lead you into a massive penthouse and shut the door behind you. Jungkook is already inside waiting for you. He’s still in his fanmeet clothes, the other men were still showering and changing, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you again, for a chance to be with you alone.

You stand in the center of the room, unsure of what to do. Alone with the idol, your nerves skyrocket again.

Jungkook slowly makes his way closer to you. He stands in front of you, mirroring much like the way he stood in front of you at the fanmeet, his arms rock nervously by his sides. He bends down a little bit closer to you, and offers you a lopsided smile. “Hey beautiful.”

You shut your eyes, you can’t bear to look at him, you can’t accept that he just said that to you. His words make you ache inside.

The idol waits and gives you space, feeling shy. You can’t take it, his words throw your thoughts into a whirlwind, you want him back, you want what you had together again. You and the idol are worlds apart, but the Jungkook you had felt when your hands touched, he was your entire world.

“Please.” You beg him, offering your hand to him. You don’t know what you’re asking for, you don’t know what touching him will accomplish. You feel just so alone, exhausted from fighting against everything you’re feeling, Jungkook all but gave you permission to give in.

He smiles at you, places his palm against yours. It feels so good, so warm. He clasps his fingers around yours, reaches for your waist with his other hand and pulls you against him with one fell swoop. You already know why, you wrap your free arm around his neck and hold him to you. You can feel his heart beating wildly against you, you know he must feel yours as well. He rests his forehead on yours. It’s there again, that spark that explodes inside you, threatening to detonate all your sense of reason. Neither of you move, frozen in dance. He begins to hum a tune, a tune that pulls a smile from you-

The door opens and you jump to sit on the edge of the couch, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.

The rest of the group files into the large hotel room, they are all changed into more comfortable clothes. They look clean and refreshed, you realize just how tired and achy your body feels, you want to take a shower too.

Namjoon gives the youngest a hard look, “You didn’t change. You were in here the whole time? After we said we’d speak to her all together. How long were you alone with her? I told you-“

“I arrived only a couple minutes ago, nothing happened.” You interject, feeling the need to defend the youngest member.

Namjoon looks at you surprised. “Your Korean is good.”

You start to feel shy again, “Not really,” you speak in English instead.

“Okay, so let’s figure this out.” Namjoon starts, “Jungkook, do you want to go first?”

“Wait!” Taehyung interjects, “I thought-Joon don’t you want to hold her hand?”

You stiffen. Namjoon goes red, “I-first let’s gather information.”

Taehyung goes to stand. You recoil in your seat. You turn to Namjoon, pleading, “I can’t-I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Tae-”

“Says you, you already got to touch her-”

“And that’s why I’m telling you not to do it-”

“No one is touching her-”

“Joon, can you please talk some sense into them-”

“Can we please focus-”

“If you get anywhere near her I’m punching you in the face-”

“Can we all just calm down-”

“I’ll punch you in the face-”

“No one is punching anyone!”

“I thought we were supposed to be talking this out, not starting fights-“

“I knew this was a bad idea-”

“How am I supposed to talk it out when I don’t even know what it is-”

They all talk so fast and over each other you can barely understand anything they are saying, but you know it’s not anything good. This is getting nowhere. “I-I’m so tired, I should really go home. I need to shower. Today has been...a long day.”

“You can stay in one of the rooms! We have the whole floor-Ow!” Jimin hits Jungkook in the shoulder.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom.” You feel trapped again. You go to stand and you feel a hand tug on yours, it’s Yoongi. “Take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You should at least rest before we take you home.”

You bite your lip, looking around at the men. Jungkook looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“....Okay.”

“I’ll take her!” Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook speak in unison. They look between one another. Jin, stands up, “I’ll take her.”

You silently follow him out, hearing the boys start conversing again behind you. You stay behind him as he walks down the hall. Your face heats up again as you stare at the idol’s back. Is this really happening to you? You should leave.

Jin takes a keycard out of his pocket and opens the door, holding it open for you. You walk in, it’s smaller than the other room, still larger than any hotel room you’ve ever been in. Jin picks up the suitcase from the middle of the room.

“I’ll find another room to stay in.” You feel your chest tightening again at his words. “Rest now, y/n, and then we can get to the bottom of this in the morning,” he smiles down at you. His eyes linger on you, about to speak again but he decides it’s better to wait.

You tug at his hoodie as he goes to leave. “I…” you want to tell him not to leave you alone, “I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Oh, I can give you some of my clothes!” You bite your lip as you watch Jin set his suitcase on the bed and rummage through his clothes. He pulls out a collection of hoodies, shirts and pants, way too many clothes for one sleeping outfit.

“Thank you…” you walk with him to the door. He lingers there with you.

“This...this is a good thing.” You cock your head to the side, Jin pats your head, “I found you after all.” And with that he leaves you to your thoughts.

---

After showering you feel so much better. You stand in your towel, looking around at the room. 'This must be a dream,' you think. Your hands run over the stack of Jin’s clothes. This stack probably costs more than all the clothes you’ve ever bought in your entire life, you think. You sigh and pull on a shirt and sweatpants, and decide to throw on a hoodie too for good measure. You start to laugh as you look at yourself in the hotel room’s mirror. You’re sure you're going to wake up tomorrow and this will all be a wild dream. You’re about to settle into bed when you hear a knock.

Jungkook stands in the hallway. He stares at you with wide eyes before looking at his feet. “I brought you clothes to wear.”

“Oh,” you look at him shocked.

“I see someone already gave you theirs,” he looks crestfallen.

“Yeah, Jin took care of that.” You pull on the strings of the hoodie in embarrassment.

“Oh well for tomorrow morning, you can wear this.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Jin gave you enough clothes to cover an entire week. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“Okay...good.”

You hold your breath. You want to keep talking to him. “Your English is good, you sound like an American now.”

Jungkook smiles, too shy to meet your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You can speak in Korean too, I understand. I am not that good at speaking it, but I guess now is the best time to practice.” You laugh. Jungkook nods at you, his smile growing wider.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” He winks at you. You feel your heart tighten at his words.

“Jungkook!” He turns back around. “Um, sweet dreams.”

Jungkook looks you over. “Can I?”

“Huh?” He steps closer to you, you stay still. He reaches his arms out and wraps them around you in a hug. His head rests on the top of your head as he holds you close to him. It feels like you remember, his embrace feels the same. You grip onto the material of his long sleeve shirt. He holds you closer. All you can smell and feel is Jungkook.

Jungkook holds you close to him. He doesn’t know how to feel. His heart aches in anguish over the thought of losing you again. He doesn’t want to let you go.

In his arms you feel so safe, you relax against him. A wave of sleepiness crashes over you. Jungkook helps you into bed.

“I’ll come get you in the morning.” He runs his hands over your forehead. The intimate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you're too tired to react. Your heart is full. Is this what true love feels like?

---

You stretch in your bed. Your muscles ache, you feel good after a night's rest. You snuggle into your pillow, it’s so fluffy and soft, softer than you’re used to, you pull your covers closer to you. You notice the large sleeves of your hoodie, and your sleepiness drains away. It’s not your bed, and that’s not your hoodie. You sit up, looking around the unfamiliar room, you feel like you’ve been doused with cold water. Everything from the night before comes back to you. You pull the covers over your head, so much for a good morning.

You grab your phone. You have a text message: ‘call me when you get home <3’ and two missed calls. You bury your head into the pillows. You're about to call back when there is a knock at the door.

“One minute!” You change into Jungkook’s clothes, a black long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you decide to change your pants for one of Jin’s joggers.

“Hey!” You expected Jungkook to greet you, this was not who you expected.

"Hello." The deep voiced singer stands in front of you. You stare back at him. He walks into your room and takes a seat on the bed. You close the door behind you and walk over to Taehyung.

“I’m so sorry about last night! I would have never touched you without your permission. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m so sorry. I just-I just needed to find out. I have to. I know you’re scared, I’m scared too...Jungkook and I talked last night and he told me what happened, he said it was more than just memories, it’s like...an awakening. I mean, that’s so cool. If we had another life together, wouldn’t you want to know? Please y/n, I feel like I’m going crazy not knowing-“

“Speak slower please, I’m still a beginner!” You laugh.

“Sorry! Please y/n, please. Before the others wake up.”

You sigh, sitting next to him. “I think Jungkook is leaving out very important information...”

You continue, “We not only lived, we died.” You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around you, “I’ve lived and I’ve died 5 times now. It’s horrible, it’s heartbreaking, it’s not something you can just forget.”

Taehyung sits quietly. “Do you regret it?”

You bite your lip. Do you regret it? You feel it still, the warmth of their love for you. The way they loved you, the way you loved them. Would you give that memory up? Even the lingering feelings in your body are stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your lifetime. Could you let it go now that you know what you’re missing?

Taehyung presses, “Jungkook says he's happy it happened.”

You inhale sharply. You have to make him see. “Jungkook died in my arms. He died after we tried so hard to run away together.” Taehyung eyes widen. “He was murdered...” You shudder, Taehyung stays silent. “Is that the kind of ‘awakening’ you want?”

He raises a hand to his mouth, stroking his chin. “He didn’t tell me about that...” And then he says something that makes your heart stop. “And he still said he's happy it happened, that he doesn't want to forget about you y/n.”

“Please, I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

---

Uh-oh the boys don’t want to let you go now! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it! It’s kind of cool, all the different worlds. I neverrrr thought I’d write an actiony spy enemies to lovers AU ever, trust. I had to get a lot of help with all the specific terminology, like me - guns - what - totally clueless, I just hope I did the story justice.

Hopefully this tides you over for awhile because we have a problem...I don’t remember anything about Tae’s handshake! Cries. I know what’s supposed to happen, but I also have no idea what happens lol. I know movie, but not movie name, if you get what I’m saying. Please bestow some patience on me for the next chapter. Asks are always open, maybe you can give me some inspiration! <3

#bts soulmate au #bts fantasy au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #bts enemies to lovers #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst

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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years

Note

how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them?

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?”, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

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afictionalwhore · 3 years

Text

104 Training Corps Masturbation HCs

(Eren, Reiner, Armin, Jean, Connie, Levi, and Erwin)

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□ AN: I wrote this in between second covid vaccine naps, so just bear with me. All characters are aged up.

□ NSFW, mDNI

□ TW: smidge of ddlg, mommy kink, mentions of BDSM, Eren has anger issues, dubcon if you squint, cum eating

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Eren Jaeger

He’s so focused on his goals that he doesn’t really have the time to think about his feelings. So he doesn’t masturbate very often and definitely doesn’t have sex (see above), so the act is usually a last resort stress relief.

The first time he did it, he accidentally said your name. The next day, he couldn’t stop staring at you, wondering when he developed such feelings. He would look way quickly with a bright red blush whenever you caught him staring. But you became an addiction and obsession for him, something very dangerous.

Angry. Everything this man does is fueled by rage and that includes some good ole self love. He’s grunting your name through gritted teeth while his hard cock is weeping precum over his tight fist. He’s fast, and he’s messy.

He always feels disgusted with himself afterwards. He thinks it’s a waste of time and energy. While he always has a clearer head in terms of what to do next, his thoughts and emotions are a big mess when it comes to you. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, that you would only get hurt with him. But yet each time he paints his stomach white while crying for you, he falls a little bit more into you.

If you caught him, he’d be very aloof and ask if you planned on just standing there. Either leave or help him out.

Sweat dripped down Eren’s toned body as he jerked his hand up and down his angry cock. Precum was weeping from his slit, and he could only dream that it was your sweet juices making his cock so wet. He threw his head back, thumping against the headboard, as he chanted your name like his favorite prayer. Hot, sticky ropes of cum fell on his stomach, cooling rapidly against his overheated skin.

Eren gulped down oxygen, trying to regain his breath as he climbed down from his high. His fist unfurled from his softening cock and fell on the bed beside him. He lifted his head slightly before banging it back against the hard wood with a loud thunk.

“Goddammit.”

You stood behind his door, cracked just a little to give you the most delicious glimpse of Eren in his afterglow. A rough voice startled you out of your ogling as intense green eyes met your doey ones.

“You plan on standing there all day, princess? Close the door and leave,” Eren grunted. “Or better yet, come here and help me out a little.”

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Reiner Braun

A gentle giant who deserves so much love. He’s been through so much, so who can blame him for wanting a little bit of stress relief.

This man is so embarrassed the first time he cums to you. He thought you were just a friend, despite everyone else saying there was more between the two of you. So when he’s fisting himself to the thought of your soft voice calling his name, he can’t look at you the next day.

He can’t help himself after that. You invade every part of his mind and his dreams and fantasies are filled with you. His favorite fantasy is you riding him, while he peppers your body in sweet kisses and praises.

If you were to catch him, he would stop instantly and try to cover himself and hide from you. His face would flush red as a tomato as he stammered out apology after apology.

It’s only when you step into his room and take his massive hand in yours does he understand the feelings are mutual.

“Reiner?” you called, looking for your friend. You walked down the dark hallway of the shack you called home. Your oldest friend was having a difficult week watching the children train and fight, so you opened your heart and home to him.

You had heard crying earlier, and wanted to make your gentle giant a soothing cup of tea and ask if there was anything you could do to help. It broke your heart seeing Reiner this way.

As you neared the door, you heard panting coming from Reiner’s room.

“Reiner!” you yelled as you opened the door, fearing the worst for your friend.

Reiner looked at you before flushing a bright tomato red. His large hands wrapped around his generously endowed length. He stammered your name and quick apologies.

You walked towards him, closing the door behind you with a swift kick. You eased his large hands away from his hard cock. Confusion swam in his eyes before you cupped his cheeks in your hands and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“I wish I had known sooner,” you said. “You know, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

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Armin Arlet

Overall, Armin is really quiet when he’s pumping himself. It’s not until he gets closer to his end that he’s whining your name.

Armin stays in his room. He may tease himself in the shower, but he prefers to finish in the absolute privacy of his room.

The next day, he’ll be all blushes when he sees you, but you’re so used to Armin’s quiet demeanor that you don’t really think too much of it. Maybe he just had a stomachache and needed to go.

Armin is a master manipulator. He’s possessive and competitive even if not outwardly so. His fantasies can get dark, as he thinks of ways to rig you up, edge you, and fuck you until you know nothing but his name. He dreams of ways to mark you, sweet and innocent you, as his own.

Armin is a switch. While he dreams of taking you for his own, Armin also likes to fantasize about you torturing him. He wants to be wrapped completely in you as he begs you to “please please please” let him cum.

Whines could be heard from Armin’s room through the wall. You were the only one who seemed concerned for him. Eren and the others simply snickered when you mentioned strange noises coming from Armin’s room.

“Why don’t you check on him?” Jean suggested, prompting laughter from the rest of the men.

“Since I’m the only here who seems to care about him, maybe I will,” you said defensive, before stomping your way back to Armin’s room.

You knocked once, twice, and were met with Armin’s whines of your name.

“Armin!” you cried, throwing the door open.

“No! Don’t come in!” the blonde sobbed, but it was too late. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, in full view of you with his hard cock in hand.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, eyes holding a dangerous glint as you stalked towards Armin. “Let mommy help, okay?”

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Jean Kirstein

A little aloof and obnoxious about it. So what if he masturbates, everyone does. It’s great stress relief. Man has a point.

Jean does try to muffle his sounds. As much as he doesn’t care that people know what he’s up to, he doesn’t intend on giving a show. He also doesn’t intend on everyone knowing it’s you he’s thinking of when his hand slides up and down his long cock.

Jean likes to bite. His pillowcase and sheets are full of tears from where he bites down, wishing it was your soft skin that he was sinking his teeth into. This does help to muffle his noises.

Jean is a talker. He loves dirty talk and will talk to himself while thinking of you. His favorite fantasy is him lavishing you in praises, saying you’re such a “good girl for daddy”.

While Jean is open that he does indeed masturbate, he is very defensive if he gets caught. He tries to cover himself and make up very poor excuses.

“Hey, Jean,” you called before bouncing into your lover’s bedroom. “Have you seen my—.” The sight before you cut you off.

On his bed lay Jean. The white sheets tangled into his legs as he pumped his cock with smooth rhythmic strokes. His head thrown back and eyes clenched shut, tell-tale signs that he was reaching his end. Your name fell from lips in light praises as he called you his good girl and imagined you wrapped tightly around him, milking him. With a heavy grunt, Jean came, spraying his chest with his hot cum.

The sound of light clapping from across the room jerked him out of his afterglow. Jean turned away from you, stammering at you to get out as he pulled up his sheets to cover himself.

“But daddy,” you cooed as you walked forward, swaying your hips just the way Jean liked. “Am I not good enough for you?”

You fake pout had Jean already hard again.

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Connie Springer

An addict and everyone knows it. He is also very defensive over this, stating it’s a healthy stress relief compared to drugs or alcohol. No one can really disagree with him, so he’s left alone.

He prefers the privacy of his room, but will absolutely rub one out in the showers that may or may not be shared by the other men.

The only one who could probably hold eye contact with you the next day after you catch him. You have the same sense of humor, so that helps.

You and Connie are close friends, who spill the dirty details over everything to each other, except of course how badly you want each other. Even Mikasa can see it.

Connie has a slight savior complex. His favorite fantasy is you calling him a hero and asking how you could repay him for saving you.

“Tell me! Tell me!” you begged Connie the next morning at breakfast.

The man in question groaned at your insistence.

“Connie, we tell each other everything, ever since we were cadets, we left no secrets between us. Please, please tell me!”

“No,” Connie whined, hiding his burning face in his hands.

“You had a wet dream, and I want to know who it was about. Maybe I can help, put in a good word with them for you?” You smirked at your best friend’s growing discomfort. “Please, Connie,” you whispered. “I’ll give you half my lunch.” You hoped to bribe the man out of silence.

Connie jumped up and pounded his tight fists on the table. “You!” He shouted. “It was you!” His face grew beet red as the cafeteria occupants turned towards the racket. “It wasn’t a wet dream either.” His voice softened in embarrassment as he turned away from you.

“Oh.” You sat in silence with Connie for a few brief moments before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do you mind showing me then?”

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Levi Ackerman

Very quiet about it. It’s a surprise to most when it comes out that he masturbates, but as Jean said, who doesn’t? Still, what he does in private is his own business, and no one dares to mention if they’ve caught him.

For him, it’s a form of stress relief, so he’s prone to rub one out in the privacy of his shower or office. Occasionally he’ll lay in bed, but really the shower is just so much easier to clean.

Levi’s favorite fantasy unsurprisingly involves a maid outfit. He’d die if he ever saw you in one, bent over and giving him the briefest peek of your panties.

Overstimulation king. This man’s refractory period is next to zero. Also very kinky.

Canonically, Levi is an awkward sub. If you caught him, he would freeze before getting angry and yelling at you to leave him alone. He would completely avoid any and all interaction with you to the best of his abilities, prompting Erwin and Hange to ask if you’ve done something to provoke him.

That’s if you didn’t take matters into your own hands. Your handsome captain is overworked, and it’s your duty to help.

“Captain!” you called as you barged into Levi’s office, only to find the man hunched over his desk, head resting on the desk with sweat dripping onto the cool wooden surface. His back heaved as he struggled to regain his breath.

“Captain! Are you okay?!” You panicked and ran towards your captain.

Levi jumped up, face completely drained of color. He blushed furiously as he processed that it was you who walked in on him in such a vulnerable state.

“No!” Levi yelped. “Don’t come any closer! Get out!”

You ignored your captain’s direct orders and reached out for him, noticing the sticky white coating his hand.

“Oh,” you giggled. “I see. I thought I had cleaned everything, but it seems I missed a spot.” You raised Levi’s hand to your lips before licking him clean. You held his icy gray eyes in your darkening gaze as you drank everything he had to offer.

You smiled as you glanced down at his cock, already hardening once again.

“Do you want help with that,” you asked coyly. “Captain?”

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Erwin Smith

This man makes a goddamn show out of the act. He is sprawled on silk sheets, sporting nothing but an untied emerald green robe that lavishly falls on either side of him.

An exhibitionist who really doesn’t care if he’s caught. In fact, he hopes you walk by and hear him moaning your name. His favorite fantasy is you walking in on him like this. His bed is facing the doorway and he’s propped against luxurious pillows just in case.

He’s also loud. LOUD. He wants to be heard.

He pampers himself before and after like a true king. His skin is soft from a fresh shower, complete with moisturizing routine. Afterwards, he’ll take a few moments to regain his breath before collecting himself to clean up. He’s very careful to get all his cum on his own body and not his robe or sheets.

An arrogant bastard, but can back himself up. He has every reason to think so highly of himself and his sexuality.

You heard the deep moans from down the hall before you even neared your commander’s bedroom. Erwin’s deep, breathy pants of your name filled the empty hallway and echoed around you. You blushed furiously as you tried to pass, making your way to your own sleeping quarters.

As you passed, you noticed the door to Erwin’s bedroom was cracked open. You had always had a thing for your Greek god of a commander, and couldn’t help yourself as you peeked in through the open door.

You watched Erwin stroke himself, his perfect hand sculpted by Michelangelo himself moving up and down on his thick cock.

Erwin came with a deep grown of your name, as he painted his chiseled chest white. The sounds of Erwin’s ecstasy hitting you straight in your core as your own sex pulsed with need.

“Ah!” Erwin called, a dangerous glint in his ocean eyes. “Just the person I wanted to see!”

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction would bring it back.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

Bonus: Dick HCS

Eren: Above average in girth and length. He’s full of lean muscle and his dick matches. He has a nice curve too.

Reiner: Very well endowed. He’s a giant and his dick suits him. He’ll stretch you nicely and hit your cervix every time.

Armin: Just above average, but he worries he’s small. You remind him that he fits you just right.

Jean: longer than average, but of average girth. He’s a little self conscious of himself until you call him “daddy” and praise his cock.

Connie: average but knows how to use it and please you

Levi: this short king is packing and you know it

Erwin: a monster and he knows it. This man is unpacking a slip-n-slide every time he takes his pants off.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

#attack on titan #aot x reader #aot headcanons #tw.masturbation #eren jaeger #reiner braun #armin arlet #jean kirschtien #connie springer #levi ackerman #erwin smith #I feel like I’m dying #but they are bringing me back to life

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

Note

“You will learn to love me.” - With Heisenberg and restorator darling, please? Perhaps when this is her first experience?

Heisenberg/F!Darling: "You'll learn to love me."

TW: Dubcon, loss of virginity, forced marriage

Weddings were usually a joyous affair. Gorgeous dresses, dancing and enjoying your loved ones' company, celebrating the life you wanted to share with your one-and-only... ____'s wedding was not at all like what she or her family might have hoped it would be. For one thing, none of them even knew where she was; she'd spent the last few months trapped by the terrifying man who'd kidnapped her from the Romanian wilderness, a man named Heisenberg who had a gift with metal that bordered on supernatural. As a restorator she would've been fascinated if she wasn't terrified of what he could do with that power of his, especially when his "work" littered his factory with corpses and their scattered body parts. The only other company she had were the wolflike monsters and patchwork creations that followed Heisenberg's orders.

He'd actually bothered to get a wedding dress for her, an admittedly beautiful traditional gown made by the women in the village. The delicate lace along the sleeves and the vibrant embroidered flowers and patterns on the vest looked so out of place in the dusty and rusted-out factory. The villagers were eager to celebrate their Lord's marriage and hadn't stopped sending flowers, pastries, clothing, and handmade talismans for long-life/love/fertility to the outskirts of Heisenberg's property until he'd stationed some of the Lycans to scare off the throngs of annoying worshippers and well-wishers. ____ didn't know if it was better or worse that Heisenberg and her would be the only ones at the wedding; she was terrified of being alone with him, but the way the villagers stared at her and threw themselves to the ground while reverently calling her "Lady Heiseberg" left her uncomfortable to say the least.

____ stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried her best to prepare herself for what was to come. I can still try to escape, but...being his wife just makes it feel more hopeless. She bit the inside of her cheek and glared at the reflection of her dress through her veil. I'll have to be tied to him, even if I'm being forced to say those fucking vows to always stay with him until "death to us part."

She didn't hate him, at least not as much as she did when he'd first taken her. She definitely feared him, but that was just common sense when your captor has an army of corpse-machines, werewolves, and can control electricity and metal with his mind. He'd been more accommodating than he'd expected for a kidnapper. He had been sexually forceful sometimes whenever he groped her or turned her head to kiss her, or lightly rutted against her body when the two of them slept in the same bed. But he'd also given her a room to herself, and insisted on not forcing himself on her completely until he'd made her his wife--another reason she was dreading this day. He'd appreciated her restoration skills and the two of them had actually shared some enjoyable conversations while spending time in his workshop. And he was fiercely protective of her when it came to his equally monstrous siblings and mother. Part of it seemed to be selfishness, not wanting them to go after HIS woman, but he'd consoled her after that wretched little doll of Lady Beneviento's had insisted on "playing" with her by chasing her and tearing at the flesh and skin of her legs. His voice had been soft when he'd promised to not let anyone hurt her, and having him hold her was comforting.

The sound of her bedroom door opening snapped ____ out of her thoughts, and she saw Heisenberg walk into the room. He wasn't wearing his usual trenchcoat, and instead had on an outfit that ____ had never seen him in before: a black vest with similar embroidery to her own outfit, along with a white blouse underneath with fur-trimmed black sleeves. His pants were also black, save for the bit of dust around the hem from walking around the factory. His shoes were made from dark leather and had the same fur trim as his shirtsleeves and the inside of ____'s vest. His signature sunglasses were absent, and his hair was freshly washed and combed.

Heisenberg stared at ____ for a moment, looking her up and down as she stood in her wedding clothes. He had seen what they'd looked like folded up and hanging in her closet, but it was nothing compared to her wearing them. He wasn't used to seeing something so delicate and beautiful, especially in his factory. "Everything's ready," he said. He put one arm around ____'s waist and kept a gentle yet firm grip around her. "Since Miranda gave us her 'blessing' beforehand, we don't need to have her here to watch and attend in all her glory," he quipped. "God knows that bitch would ruin this whole thing just by being here."

____ let Heisenberg lead her to his own room, where a small leather box lay on his bedside table. He used his powers to shut and lock the door behind ____ while he went to grab the box. "I don't have much from my real family," Heisenberg said, carefully opening the lid. The inside was lined with cloth, and inside was a pair of exquisite wedding bands. There were some signs of age in the metal, but the small opalescent jewel nestled in the center of the bridal ring shone as if it had been polished just yesterday. The other ring was less flashy, with the only flair being am etched ridge in the shape of a mountain on the top, inlaid with gold. "This ring's one of the only things I've got from them." He took the groom's ring and slipped it on his own finger. "I want to say it was one of my great uncles who made it? One of them was a jeweler, I think." He shrugged and held his hand out to admire how it looked. "My mom slipped them into my things after Miranda's people had come to take me and my cousins away. I think she knew it'd be the last time she saw all of us together."

____ noticed the strange tone in Heisenberg's voice as he recalled his last memory with his family. She'd never heard him reminisce about them before; with how far-off and melancholy he sounded, she knew why it wasn't something he discussed that often. Just as she was about to try to say something to try and comfort him, he took the bride's ring with one hand and slipped the box into his pocket. He took ____'s hand and squeezed it. "There's no set of vows we have to take," he explained with a half-smile. "One of the perks of being royalty in this shit hole is anything you do is fine, no matter how informally you do it. Not like the villagers are gonna complain about us not following all the traditions, so it saves a lot of time. But..." Heisenberg stared intensely at her as he slipped the ring onto her trembling finger. "One day, you'll learn to love me. I promise that."

____'s hand felt as if it were chained to a sinking weight, pulling her through the ground and crushing her. There was no way out. She'd be "married" to this man who'd ruined her life, isolated from the rest of the world and completely at his mercy. Her heart leaped into her throat and she suddenly felt a rush of dizziness; she stumbled forward and Heisenberg caught her, helping her back upright and holding her in his arms. He brushed her clothed hip with his thumb and then lifted her veil to fully reveal her face. Before ____ knew it, Heisenberg's lips were against hers as he tilted her head back slightly to deepen the kiss.

Heisenberg ran his fingers through her hair as he lowered her onto his bed. ____'s heart raced and panic ran up and down her spine as she lay on the bed. He was taking off his shoes, unbuttoning his vest...reaching down to take off her veil. "K-Karl," she stammered, "I'm not...I've--"

"Never done this before?" He rested one hand on her vest before unbuttoning the golden clasps and sliding it off of her shoulders while she just tried her best to stay still. "I figured as much." Heisenberg smirked and moved one hand underneath the skirt of her dress, creeping up her thighs and stopping just inches from her panties. "You always get that funny little look on your face whenever I touch you for a bit in bed, almost like you're feeling a certain way for the first time. Wouldn't surprise me if you've never even touched yourself."

Goosebumps rose on ____'s legs as Heisenberg ghosted his fingers over her pubic mound, and she looked away as she rubbed her thighs together. Was she really THAT obvious about it? "I know I can't stop you," she said quietly. She bit her lip and tears welled up in her eyes as she tried her hardest to not envision what ____ was about to do to her. Maybe he'd start to tire of her once he finally fucked her and got what he really wanted, and he'd let her go. Would she get blood on the sheets and her dress when he entered her? Would he even care? She could already feel his cock prodding her through his pants; it was a strange, foreign presence that filled her with dread. She knew that some men had penises so large that they could fill someone up all the way to their cervix...just how painful was this going to be once he took all of his clothes off? How harsh would he be now that he didn't feel the need to be so accommodating and kind once he finally claimed her?

____ sniffled and looked up at Heisenberg pitifully. "Please be gentle," she begged. "I don't want...I know it can hurt a lot during your first time, so just..."

Heisenberg cocked his head slightly and rested his fingers on the flesh of her right thigh. "It can hurt if you don't do it right," he replied, sounding a little confused. "What, you think I'm just gonna whip my cock out, go in dry, and finish after a few pumps?"

____ looked up at him, not sure of what to say. "You want to f-fuck me, don't you?" She sounded more confused than accusatory. "That's why you kidnapped me. That's why you've tried to be nice to me and make me trust you." Her shoulders drooped slightly and she clenched her jaw. "I just figured that you wouldn't care that much about...about making me feel good, at least not as much as yourself."

Heisenberg's brows furrowed, but only for a moment before leaning down to kiss her again. ____'s eyes widened at just how gentle this kiss was compared to the one he'd given her after slipping his ring on her finger. "I didn't kidnap you just to be a cocksleeve," he replied with a slightly disappointed frown. He caressed the inside of her thigh and trailed his lips down to her collarbone. "If I wanted that, I would've just raped you the first night you were here." ____ moaned softly as he moved one hand underneath her blouse to massage her breast, and a sudden rush of heat pooled between her legs as he used his other hand to play with an extra-sensitive bundle of nerves through her underwear.

"Kidnapping you doesn't really help my case," he said begrudgingly, "But I do love you, you know. As much as I can love anyone after the shit I've been through." He toyed with her nipple and smiled when he felt her hips rock a bit as he circled around her clit through her panties. "You're not my whore, you're my wife. So tell me what you want, and how you want it. And I'll give it to you."

____'s entire body felt so warm underneath her wedding dress. The places he was touching her felt so tingly, just like how they did whenever he groped her before tonight. Somehow though, this was different. Her fear wasn't as prevalent and the heat bubbling up underneath her skin wasn't from shame. This felt gentler. This felt good. So, so good. He wasn't lying to her about doing whatever SHE wanted; for once, she felt like she had a semblance of control while in bed with him--previously her kidnapper, but now her husband.

____'s voice was breathier than she expected whenever she spoke again. "C-could...could you put your mouth on me?" She rested one shaky hand by her chest on top of his own. "On my breasts, where your hand is right now. I want to f-feel more of...of this." She was struggling to articulate just what she was feeling and what she wanted, but Heisenberg just grinned as if he'd heard her loud and clear. When he lifted her thin white blouse over her head, leaving her in just her skirt, panties, and stockings, he immediately latched onto her right breast while he continued to play with her left nipple. ____ gasped and bucked her hips as he swirled his tongue around the pebble of flesh; his stubble grazed her soft skin, and the texture made her shiver.

Heisenberg finally moved his lips back with a small pop and switched to her other breast while he circled even faster around her clitoris and occasionally stroked the damp spot around her cunt's lips. "Can you feel how wet you are down here?" He chuckled and hooked one finger around the waistband of her panties before pulling them off of her completely. "I definitely won't hurt you if you're dripping like this from just my fingers." He slowly inserted his middle finger inside of her tight walls and eagerly looked at her face as she moaned and moved her hips to take even more of his hand. "Does it hurt, honey?"

"Ah, n-no..." ____ had never felt so hot and lightheaded and FULL. There was a stretch, but it wasn't painful; if anything, she wanted to feel more and more of it. "It feels good, so good..." Heisenberg curled his finger inside of her and laughed again at how his wife cried out in pleasure, practically shoving her pelvis forward to fuck herself on his hand while her pussy clenched around him. "More, more, please! That felt even better, do it again--o-or, or put another finger inside, or your whole hand or your cock or--"

Heisenberg shushed her and slightly increased his pace as he slipped another finger inside of her. "Easy, tiger," he teased with a smile. "I'm not using my cock until you cum at LEAST once on my hand. I haven't even gotten to taste you yet!"

"But...don't you want to feel good t-too?"

Heisenberg felt his hard-on stabbing through his clothes as he rutted his hips against the mattress. He'd get some relief soon, but for now he wanted to show her just what she really meant to him. He could fill her up with his cum and fuck her silly later--right now, he wanted to make sure his perfect little wife enjoyed every single second of her wedding night the way she deserved.

This WAS a celebration of their love, after all.

#.re8 #.heisenberg #yandere re8 #yandere heisenberg #virginity kink #tw: dubcon #.myshit #.queue #fem darling

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Your writing is my favourite 🥀 Anymore John Stones fics please?

ask, and you shall receive kind anon

here to help

this has been on my mind since i wrote our girl so here’s how john and reader met for that little fic

From the moment you woke up - or rather were woken up this morning - you’d been having one of those days. One of those ‘i really hope no one sits next to me on the train’ days. One of those everything makes you want to cry days. Just one of those days.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, the late nights and early mornings or the fact that no minute of the day was your own. You were exhausted, drained and in dire need of a long sleep and some food that didn’t come out of a microwave and taste awful.

Probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Except today wouldn’t be one of those ones where someone sits next to you on the train when you would have preferred they didn’t, because when you got on the train that evening after another long day with dark circles under your eyes and an empty stomach because you’d been too busy to take lunch and were run off your feet, there wasn’t a single fucking seat on that train.

Well, one empty seat taken up by a man’s briefcase and umbrella. It was abundantly clear that he had done that so no one would sit next to him and you barely even had the energy to be annoyed. You had made eye contact a short while after getting on and he simply shook his head at you with a scowl. Whether he was saving the seat for someone or he just didn’t want anyone next to him didn’t matter to you, you felt like your legs were going to buckle beneath you and the weight of the two bags you had to carry over one shoulder while your other arm supported the weight of your world while you hold onto the sticky yellow pole with your other hand so you don’t go flying when the train screeches to a stop.

You approached the guy in the suit, eyes pleading. “Look, is there any way that i could-” He cuts you off by pointing the earphones he was wearing and shrugging his shoulder before looking out the window on his left. You might’ve fought, argued with him and gotten yourself a seat, but you just didn’t have that kind of fight in you today and would rather just let him be obnoxious than cause an embarrassing scene on the train.

More embarrassing that you already had at least, trying to wrangle a screaming baby.

There was one man who’s eyes you had felt on you on and off for pretty much the entire time he had been on the train. You were assuming he was judging something about you; be that the exhaustion present in your body and in your face or the way you struggle to hold everything at once. You honestly could’ve cried, everything just felt like it was so, so much. You felt like you were in survival mode, existing only to exist and nobody cared. People looked in and nobody cared.

Until he did.

The tall guy with long legs and fluffy, almost curly, brown hair steps past you, brushing past your shoulder where you stand again in the space near the train doors holding onto the pole. He stands in front of the man you had tried to confront three minutes ago and anger bubbles up under the surface at the thought of him getting that seat.

“Come on mate.” He says, his voice much louder than yours was and more commanding than yours ever would be. The man in the suit takes out his earphone with furrowed eyebrows and a remaining frown. “That’s a spare seat,” he points at the brief case and umbrella sitting, “And that woman just asked you for it.” People start to cast their eyes to him with many sporting subtle grins at this man hogging a seat being put in his place.

“So?” he snarks.

“So?” The tall one echos incredulously, “She’s got a baby with her mate, it’s not safe to be standing there. Just move your shit.” He scoffs, his voice feeling to an irritated grumble. The other guy shakes his head firmly. “Don’t want to be sitting next to a whining baby, do i?”

“It’s alright,” you insist with a sigh and flushed cheeks, “I’ll be fine, honest-“

“No,” he holds up a hand as he turns to offer you a soft smile, his eyes determined as he turns back to the other man. “Move yourself then,” he growls, leaning himself down to get closer so he can speak more hushed as he tightens his muscles and clenches his jaw, “Or I’ll fucking move you myself.”

The guy huffs, grabs his crap and stands up, pushing past the tall man and glaring at you as he passed. You would never have fought it like that, but your aching legs are thankful and someone did. He gives you a smile, helping you into the inside seat before moving to walk away when he hears your voice. “You can sit there, if you like?”

You fully expect him to reject. Not many would want to sit next to ragged looking woman with. slobbery teething baby who keeps making sounds as though she’s going to start wailing at any moment. But his lips just stretch back into that smile as he turns and takes the seat next to you happily. “Thank you for that,” you mutter quietly, cheeks still flushed. He shrugs his shoulders, turning his eyes to your little girl in your lap. “Don’t mention it,” he smiles, waving his large at the eight month old. “I’m John.”

You shake his hand, “(y/n).” You greet in response.

“(y/n),” he repeats, eyes sparking. “And who’s this little lady eh? She’s adorable.” He coos at your daughter chewing on her fingers. You while her chin with the bib she’s wearing carefully to catch her teething dribbles, “This is Poppy, she’s teething. Sorry.” You grimace, referencing to her unhappy gurgles and constant wriggling.

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, “There are far worse passengers to sit next to, isn’t that right little miss Poppy?”

You almost feel your eyes getting a little wet at his kindness to you and to her. It seems as though you don’t get it that much these days. You’d thought that single mother had a bit more respect these days, but it seemed as though it wasn’t much better than you’d thought it would be at it’s worst. But John was kind, he was sweet and funny, cooing at the little girl until she giggled back at him, patting his face with John just laughing off your apology.

“Here,” John begins as the train pulls into the station that he knew was his stop and appeared to also be yours, “let me get those.”

Before you can even protest he lifts up the well stocked baby bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he picks up your own bag and and helps you out if your seat.

He talks and you laugh at his jokes for the entire walk to your car. You wouldn’t usually humour many people, very least men but he was funny and kind and your heart has already warmed up to him so quickly. The way he puts your bags in the boot and hands Poppy her little teething key ring as you clip her into her car seat. She gurgles happily at him with a big gummy smile and god your heart sings at the sight of him getting on so well with your little girl who’s dad left a week and a half after she was born much to your heartache.

“Sorry if this too forward,” he clears his throat, shuffling nervously between his feet. “But i’d love to see you again…both of you.”

Your heart lights up, your cheeks flushing a soft red as you smile up at him, nodding. “That would be nice.” You reply, pulling your phone out your back pocket to pull up your number from him to put into his phone. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promised.

And call you he did, shortly after 7 and talked to you for two hours while you fed and put the baby to bed and before you knew it, you had a close friend offering to take Poppy for the night so you could go to dinner with John. Then Poppy got sick and you had to cancel, thinking you’d completely scuppered any chance at this relationship until John showed up on the doorstep with a food in a bag and some candles. He cooked, you bathed the baby and he took pictures of you both giggling hysterically with her penguin towel wrapped around her with the little hood over her sparse hair. He’d never smiled so much in all of his life.

You ate John’s meal at the kitchen table when she went to bed he stayed the night when you both fell asleep on the couch.

From that day forward, this was John’s family.

His perfect little family.

#john stones #john stones blurb #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #john stones x reader #england national team imagine #manchester city imagine #football #football fic #footie fics #footballer fics

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Note

Do yiu want to maybe write a lil smth about big dick daddy and his strength.... pleasd and thank u ❤️🥵

Okay hun just a quick headcannon might not be exactly what you were after but porn is ponr 🤷‍♀️ 😘😘

Warnings: smut, nsfw, size difference, toys, car sex, exhibitionism, daddy kink, filth

You bent forward with the slightest of winces, this probably wasnt the best idea to use this particular toy when you had yoga class.

Today was henry's birthday, you were going to skip class but sadly he had a meeting this morning and had insisted on you coming to class.

You really should of stuck to your guns and stayed home

But it was to late now, you were here in the middle of class, this time at the back becuase you were nervous about anyone seeing it through your leggings.

You had a surprise for your sweet boyfriend, it had taken a few days of prep work but you were on the final stage

You see there was an issue in the bedroom. He was ridiculously endowed... like seriously before meeting him you rolled your eyes at that whole 'i can see it in her guts' porn cliche that men tried to boast about.

Not anymore. Nope, it was definitely a thing.

You were thankfull he was strong enough and could lift you with his arms and make you 'hover' as he drilled you mindful of just how much he fed your needy but small pussy.

You could never take him fully and although he never minded it got to you. You wanted to be good for him, to give him everything. And take everythig!

So you decided to get a set of plugs to help... loosen you a tad, it was more a length issue then a... girth?

You were on your second day of your biggest toy and it was strange streaching and doing yoga with the toy rubbing your tender walls.

It was down right torturous!

You heaved in relief as the teacher wrapped up the class and bolted outside needing to get home and cool off

The beep of a horn called you across the road to where henry was waiting in the car.

You crossed the road quickly opening the door throwing your bag behind the passenger seat and climbed in "Ah~fucking fuck!"

Henry froze and cast you a strange look as you bit your lip and shuddered as your ass met the seat...

That didnt make sense? You hadnt been spanked for a few days

"Babe? You okay? Did you pull something?" He asked slowly concern creasing his brow

"I wish, no no i- lets go, i need to get back and chill... need a fucking shower you cringed, you really did, not just to cool down either.

"Okay if your sure" he said pulling away from the curb.

During the ride home he kept a close eye on you, noting the soft mewls and panting... especially when he let the car over rev a little, trying to help with the battery which had been playing up recently.

"Babe your going red, have some of your drink" henry said half way home nodding to your bag behind the seat.

"Yeah.. okay" you hummed unclipped your seat belt, holding the bottle would give you something to do with your hands, take the temptation of slipping you fingers to your crotch as the car vibrated the plug.

You moved leaning over the center console and cralwed back bending over reaching your bag. Unknowingly presenting the little bulging base of the plug in your pussy

"No fucking way!?" Henry growled doing a double take as he saw the little tell tale bump

Before you could ask what he meant a hugge hand came up landing over your slit in a light spank making you moan

"Oh god~ hen!?" You moaned and tried to reverse back into you sea but henrys hand remained on the end of the plug and wriggled it side to side sending you into a chorus of wanton moans

"Baby girl? You wore a plug to yoga?" He laughed enjpying the way you collapsed over the centre console

He moved repositioning his arm to rest his elbow and fore arm on your back fingers slipping under the leggings and following the creas of your ass to the wet pussing lips wrapped around the plug.

"Hen- daddy! Noo let me up!" Ou protested not likejng being bent over in the car for the world to see it they wished!

"Oh hush, we're almost home! Its nothing you dont deserve your naughty girl!" He teased clasping the plug and slowly began thrusting the toy in and out

"Oh gos! Listen to that~ such a messy girl? All drenched and slippy~" you mewled and began panting unable to stop rocking back.

"D-daddy please! Not in the car!"

"So yours embarrassed being caught with your toy in the car, but not your yoga class?-pfft yoga all those streches must have been fun baby girl~ tell me what was your favourite? Is this a naughty little secret?" He spoke cheerfully amused by the predicament youd got yourself in

"No-no i didnt mean it! Daddy its not like that!"

"No? Then why do you have this in your little pussy babygirl?" He asked genuinely curious

"Its for you daddy! For your birthday! I made'em bigger so you can... all in..." you stuttered as he began fuckingnyou faster. But he stopped at your comment

"You've been getting yourself ready so daddy can fuck you deeper?" He said out loud as he managed to pull the car into the drive thanking god this was an automatic.

Cy-yeah! Please-Ugh daddy!?" You cried as with a quick flick of his hands your leggings were at your knees and the plig was pulled free.

He whistled low when he saw just what your stuffed yourself with... definitely longer then anything else he'd seen you use before.

You moaned as he left you needy on the edge.

He didnt waist time just feeling hos wet and horny you were had him fully erect already.

He ditched the plug on the passenger seat paying no mind to your yells of 'is gonna stain!'

Deft fingers latched onto your hips as he pulled himself free.

"God your such a good girl~ so precious" he purred before hoisting you to straddle him and without hesitation impaling you on him fully.

"F-Fuuuck! Daddy it oh god!" You groaned feeling him press you down onto his thighs tightly grinding hissing through his teeth.

"Fuck! Fuck thats-god your so hot! So tight babygirl~" you whined as your leggings at your knees was stretched across his chest pressing your legs high and spread like a resistance band holding you open to him

"Ah daddy ! Please! Fuck please move!" You cried for him to fuck you despite being on top.

He chuckled heeding you and held your waist tightly before lifting your, bobbing you up and down on him.

He grunted straightening his legs into the foot well and moved you faster, just like he would a fleshlight useing your body as his own toy, only this time you were accepting him entirely.

His head rested on the head rest and he moaned louder widening his thighs reveling in the feel of your ass beuching his balls as he drove deeper.

You panted moaning and wriggling squirming in his grasp as he used you properly for the first time.

You fought him as things got too much, but it was no use, he had clamped his hands on you and was too lost to give any wiggle room. You loved it!

Then finally with a huge growl and roar he tugged your hips to his in bruisong thrusts markingnyou with his fingers as he plundered you in the last few thrusts

Bringingnyou high enough you feared oud hit to roof of the car.

Just as quickly as he'd taken you he finished locking you to his lap pressing as far as he could into your body floddjng your jnsides sendingnyou into your own orgasm

You flexed and kicked your entire body trembling and fighting as he held you still feedinnyour cunt as much as he could.

"Fuck! Fuck that- why has it taken this long to try car sex" you panted slowly coming down from your high.

"I dont know, but fuck if that wasnt the best quicky we ever had"

"Beats the public bathroom" you agreed

"Hands down... soo round two?"

"Inside... i can hear kal barking" you uttere flushing tipping your head hearing the bear belting out the song of his people

"Good shout..." henry chuckled

"Henry... happy birthday" you uttered

"Thank you... it's best present ever... how long you been wearing them?"he said nodding to the plug that had left an embarrassing puddle onnthe leather.

"Only a week" you shrugged leaning over grasping the plug.

"Used to it then?" He quipped staringm off in thought

"Yeah pretty much... why?" You answered anxiously

"I expect this as my very own homecoming treat from now on babygirl... do you understand princess?"

"Yes daddy~ comemon lets go inside i want round two!" You giggled nodding to him excitedly. You don't mind the inconvenience of plugs if it gives you mind blowing sex

"I thought this was my present?" He pouted sweetly at how excited you were for his present

"You gonna say no to round two daddy?" You teased prodding his chest the little sweat patch on the grey tshirt making your mouth water, you couldn't help it you were far too gone.

"of course not! Lets get your cuffs out!" He laughed patting you ass prompting you to climb off of him and crawl back to the passenger seat and redress.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #oh for fic sake headcannon #oh for fic sake ask #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic

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omgkatinka · 3 years

Text

Breaking and Entering

Summary: Your cat gets you into trouble with your grumpy new neighbour

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

>>> chapter 2

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of abuse; anxiety, angst, grumpy neighbour / Also: English is not my native language and this is my first and probably last attempt at writing. I do not even know why I tried. This is eventually a result of procrastinating from learning for my exam next week. I mixed up tenses.

Also not betad.

Words: 2.127

Here you were. New Job. New city. New apartment. Again. The past years have been a hassle of starting over.

When did your life take that turn? When your mother died? When you had to leave your grandfather to live with your father because you were underage? When instead going to study English literature like you always dreamed of your father made sure you’d get some fancy business master’s degree? Or when your ex-fiancé abused you and no one believed you because he was not just abusive but manipulative. Your life possibly finally took that turn when you ran. Head over heels. Leaving everything behind but your cat. You stopped counting the places you lived. Well rather visited for you never stayed long. Sometimes your ex would show up and you’d flee. Or you thought you had seen him in a crowd and flee. Or you were getting restless. High Functioning Flight Mode. All the damn time.

Moving days were a constant companion and those days smelled like freedom. It was just you, your SUV and your cat. The little fella would proudly ride shotgun while you sang along your old school rock playlist. Your whole life fit into a car.

This time it is Minneapolis. Large city. Anonymous, easy to vanish. You scored a job at a major financial player. Major as in Fortune 500 major. Thankfully, you worked project based for a while now, so no one ever really questioned your constant moving all over the nation. If they ever read that far in your resume that is. Summa cum laude in combination with a Harvard degree opened most doors for you.

The furnished apartment you found was in a half decent neighbourhood for a change. It was not the smallest you’d lived in and it faced the back of the building onto a yard hosting a huge oak tree.

Settling into Minneapolis was easier than it should have been. Your new co-workers were friendly. Too friendly. Not one lunch break you would get to spend on your own. Especially Marta from accounting was keen to talk to you. She was lovely. It was not her fault you never made friends. Because you never stayed. But still, that insistent woman and a couple of more people gave you a sense of familiarity you would never have expected from a huge company like that.

Most of the new neighbours greeted friendly too. Most, apart from one. When you were unloading your car, he stood right in your way, a bear of a man, shooting you a death glare. Mumbling something about not being allowed to park here and stomping off. You did not pay attention to his word, being intimidated by his sheer size. A broad beast, grumpy at that. You made a mental note to avoid him. Great plan.

Here ‘s the thing with your plans: they tend to simply not work. Three weeks after starting over, you come home to for once not being greeted by Jack. Your cat Jack. Named after an infamous pirate because of his funny face and weird way to walk. Not being greeted by Jack stirred panic. He was old but almost never failed to wait at the door for you. He did not today. Searching the whole place for him you came up empty. When you realised, you had left the bedroom window open in the morning you started to hyperventilate. He liked to sit outside on the fire escape while you got ready in the mornings. Looking outside he is not there either. By now you were freaking out, running downstairs, calling for Jack. Climbing up the roof. Nothing. By now you were crying. Starting to search the apartment one more time. And then once more. At some point you cried yourself to sleep until you are woken up by frantic knocking at your door. While still trying to figure out where you’re at, you glimpse the clock. It says 2 a.m.. Great. And what is this noise? Right. Knocking. On the door. Furious by now.

Opening your door, you find your grumpy neighbour. Even more grumpy. Scowling. „Is this thing yours? “ he asks, lifting Jack into your line of vision.

As relieved as you were to have your cat back. That was when things got out of hand. Thanks to that scare you frantically double checked every window every day before leaving for work. All is good for five days. When you get home on the sixth though – Jack is gone. Again. And the window you double checked the very same morning is open. You panic. Torn between hoping Jack broke into your grumpy neighbours’ place again hence being safe and him sitting on the roof calling out pigeons. You check the yard, the roof. No Jack. Hesitantly you knock at Mr. Grumpy’s door. No answer. Going onto midnight you hear the elevator and spy onto the floor. There he is. You brace yourself and head out. Looking apologetic. „um Hi, I am so sorry, but my cat escaped again. Would you mind checking if he did break into your place again? “. He does not answer. Unless grunts count as answers. He just raises an eyebrow at you and tilts his head in direction of his door. You avoid breathing and follow him into his apartment. Where you find your cat sits lounging on the couch like he owns the place. You cannot help but snort. That is what you get naming the little fella after a pirate. Breaking and entering seems to be his thing. It takes you a moment to realise Mr. Grumpy is staring at you, so you take a deep breath, apologize again and introduce yourself. „You really need to close your windows, you know? Not just from keeping that thing in your place but also to keep others out.“. Telling him, you double checked your windows just earns you a headshake. And there is that critical eyebrow again. Great. Then it dawns on you „if your so adamant on checking windows, how do you think Jack got in here? “. Now he looks puzzled. „Who is Jack? “ he asks and you fight hard to not snort again. “The cat, obviously” you answer. That earns you another grunt. ‘Great at communication that specimen’ you think and grab your cat. “Uhm, I am so sorry he, uhm…, we invaded your place again. So so sorry. Thanks for your patience. Good night, Mister?” “Marshall”. And that is the last thing he says. “Well good night Mister Marshall”. At that you hold on to your furry, purring companion and head back into your apartment. From now it will be triple checking the windows it seems.

Three times within the next you need to get your cat from his new favourite hideaway during the next week. The only new thing is Mr Grumpy telling you “it’s just Marshall”. Everything else is the same. Like being trapped in a fucking time lapse. Him scowling, telling you to “fucking check your windows” and giving you that critical eyebrow of doom. Each time though, you start to notice things. About his place. About him. He seems to live out of boxes. His shelves are empty. The only cosy thing seems to be the fluffy blanket Jack made his favourite place on the black leather couch. Also, he wears a gun. And a batch. You despise guns but guess this one comes with the job. And his accent is foreign. No, not foreign, it is English. A bit like a lost, grumpy Mr. Darcy. WHAT? Mr. Darcy? You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you finally going insane? Now take your cat and get out of here!

How do you reason with a cat? You surely tried but the next time you have not even noticed Jack vanishing. It’s a Saturday and you were just filling your coffee cup when there is knocking on your door again. You open the door to a sleepy looking Marshall, holding Jack. Shrugging. Something is different. Taking your cat out of his huge hands you are about to apologize again, when he beats you to speaking “did you just make coffee?”. You nod and he steps into your apartment. “Well, come in, why don’t you?” you mutter and find him standing in front of your kitchen island, scratching his head, looking kind of lost. With huge eyes and a suddenly small voice he says “sorry for barging in like that, your little fella here woke me up. Pretty sassy for such a small guy. Would you mind sharing a cup of coffee? I forgot to go grocery shopping and seem to run out of everything.”. For a moment you stare at him, stunned from the number of words he just threw at you and the lack of grunts. When you remember how to use your words, you tell him to take a seat, grab a cup and ask him how he prefers his coffee. Fixing both your cups and setting them on the table you finally get to apologize again for your little intruder, constantly breaking into his place. Marshall just shrugs at that and admits, that he has no idea how Jack opens the windows. He himself started to double and triple check his windows and it should not even be possible to open them from the outside. It is that moment you realise what is different. He looks sleepy but barely as tired as before and more important. He’s not grumpy. That’s new. And you do not know how to handle that. After silently drinking his coffee, he thanks you for the coffee and crouches down to pet Jack and tells him something that sounds like ‘see you mate’, then tells you goodbye and takes his leave.

It is the next Friday that you come home to a post-it on your door with “Jack is visiting” scribbled on it. Somehow you remember your cat not being overly fond with men, but he seems to have a soft spot for this one. Or his couch. Taking a deep breath, you turn and move over to knock at the next door. Heavy relaxed footsteps near and Marshall opens the door widely, motioning for you to come in. “We were just about to choose a movie and call for pizza. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable and join us?”. You look at the man as if he did just grow two more heads. Raising his eyebrow at you he adds “maybe choose pizza before you head over, so I can order already”. Shaking off the initial shock, you apologize. Before you can actually try to take a leave, he sternly asks “did you have dinner?”. When you shake your head, he repeats “come on, it’s just pizza and a movie. And maybe we should use the opportunity to discuss a shared custody arrangement for Jack.”. At that your stomach rumbles and when you see the glint in Marshalls eyes, you know this is a battle not worth fighting. And you are hungry. You tell him your pizza order and head over to shower and get changed. You wonder how you are not nervous about this. Since things went south with your ex you could hardly stand to be alone with one man. Let alone spend the evening at his place for dinner and movie.

Back at Marshalls place he offers you a bottle of water and his cosy looking armchair. While himself settling beside Jack on the couch. He suggests watching pirates of the Caribbean and you accept, telling him that you actually named the cat after Jack Sparrow to which he counters “It’s captain. Captain Jack Sparrow.”. The evening proceeds with you watching the movie, laughing and having pizza. You are taken aback to realise he actually ordered some extra tuna for Jack. From time to time, you catch yourself watching Marshall instead of the movie. He seems so much younger when relaxed. And handsome. How did you not realise what a beautiful face hides behind those curls and that beard?

After the movie you grab your snoring cat and thank Marshall for the evening when he pushes something cold into your free hand. You need a moment to realise, that he just handed you a key and give him a puzzled look. “I told you we’ll need a shared custody agreement, considering this little one keeps breaking and entering and claiming this apartment. I often work long hours and when shit hits the fan even spend the nights at the office. You might need it to retrieve the lodger.”. With that he winks - well tries to and fails – and opens the door for you, telling you goodnight.

#henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall

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