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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 [Part 1: Goldrush]

There's always a certain sense of childish sadness in a man consumed by rage and anger- because in a man like him, those feelings are simply born from the pain of the past, and the crushing fear of what the future might yet make him face.

Tags/Warnings: Mafia!Tiger!Jungkook, Deer!Reader, mentioned abuse, mentions of underground fights, graphic descriptions of violence, a gun oh no, Jungkook in a suit, it's pretty dark read at your own risk, there is like a hint of fluff?, just let me cook I promise it'll be worth it, do not read this if you're easily triggered/upset by dark and violent themes please thank you

Length: 6.5k Words (oh boy look at the size of that thing)

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Haha remember when I said it'll be 3k words per chapter? well I lied oops

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook met you after his first fight for the Golden House.

Humming a tune you'd almost danced through the kitchen- though you were mostly focused on helping the other maids and cooks prepare the food for the higher up's currently invited for dinner at the estate. He remembers he'd scared you- probably due to his rather beat up face, none of it having been treated most of the time, just so he could scar up and look tough on the outside.

It had worked- somewhat. Though his hybrid genes had made it rather difficult to hurt him enough to permanently scar- all of them eventually fading, needing to be remade, night after night.

The look of fear in your eyes had been something he got used to- or maybe he simply didn't notice it after a while, maybe it became normal to see you in a constant state of fight or flight. He never saw you rest, only saw you work- but when you were away from the Boss and only amongst yourself or him, you had a certain sense of lightness to yourself. Like a feather, as cliché as it sounds.

If it wasn't for your hybrid features, Jungkook would've sworn you were more of a bird than a deer- put in a cage, fear used against yourself to lock you in and to the Golden House forever. Just like he himself was shackled up, bought and owned by the highest man just so he could have some amusement watching the tiger hybrid fight in the ring.

He was a toy to him. Just like you. Just like any other hybrid at the Golden House.

Sometimes, when no one was paying much attention, you'd visit Jungkook in his room. You'd clean his wounds, and most of all- you'd talk to him like an equal. You'd tell him of dreams you had at night, of thoughts you'd come up with during your chores, or with fantasies you had about the world outside the walls of the estate. And he'd listen to all of it, quietly, your voice soothing his wounds more than any medication ever could.

Maybe your fear towards him didn't just become normal to him, so he didn't notice it. Maybe it disappeared, slowly, and that's why it left your gaze. You didn't fear him. Didn't see him as an enemy. And maybe that's what really changed.

It was winter when he found out about the consequences to your actions.

He'd spotted you outside in the snow, white flakes falling steadily onto your head and clothes, feet naked and red from the cold. It was punishment- for caring for him, doing something you weren't told to. You'd hidden it, kept it a secret so he probably wouldn't feel bad- but the true nature of it was more selfish than that. "I don't want you to stop talking to me." You'd said when he'd confronted you about it. "I don't want you to ignore me like everyone else does." You'd cried. He hadn't even spoken much to you at all, and yet the few words he'd gifted to you were more than you had ever received before.

And so he had to compromise, and instead tried harder not to get injured in the ring, so no one would notice when you'd help him heal.

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He knows that you saw the signs when his mind had started to slip. When his anger grew, and his sanity took a backseat inside his head.

Especially when the Head of the estate had decided it would be a delight to make you watch Jungkook fighting in the ring every time he had to as a way of trying to make you stop your foolish actions of helping the fighting hybrid- to show you how cruel and brutal the otherwise quiet and reserved tiger could really be, as he'd dislocate limbs and break bones night after night with a certain sense of bloodthirst in his gaze, eyes no longer kind but cold. How he'd bite and scratch with pure intent to hurt and end the fight in his favor, no matter the outcome for his opponent.

Jungkook knows that your view on him changed back then, even if you did not tell him that. He could feel it, in the way your hands would begin to tremble before touching him, or how you'd suddenly no longer reach out to him.

Gone was your attachment to him, murdered was any emotional connection you'd been creating.

At the end of the day, you had been nothing but a puppet to the head of the Golden House, nothing but a doll fed with orders because no matter what, you'd do it if it meant you'd survive another day. You would've probably even killed him if it had been asked of you- even though he wouldn't have let you.

You wouldn't have stood a chance against him.

The kiss you'd shared had been more than questionable, and he does feel bad about the circumstances back then.

He knew that it could've gotten you killed if anybody had ever caught you both, and he also knows that if it wasn't for his own initiative, you would've never made that step either. But he loved you, he loved you so much it hurt, and he hated being hurt because it was a constant for him he could never escape.

Everything he did, every situation he found himself in, every waking moment had been nothing but pain in one way or another. Nothing could soothe that ache in his body, could somehow make that burn in his bones feel a little lighter.

Nothing but your touch.

You cared. Even though he knew that you feared him, you still cared. And he hated it.

Why didn't you push him away, make him angry at you so he could have a solid reason to just get rid of you? The only reason he continued to endure wasn't so he could survive- he never gave a fuck about survival, none at all. But the heartbreak in your eyes, the fact that you'd be alone, the memory of you crying so bitterly about being ignored and put aside was continuously making him pull himself back up whenever knocked down, to win the fight and come back to the Golden House-

where you'd wait for him, soft hands on his skin relieving his rage just for a moment. Giving him a second to breathe. Where you'd kiss his wounds, and lift all the weight off of him for just a second.

And then you betrayed him.

"Thats a train ticket! I got it from Chun, she said it'll take you to busan." You'd told him, panic in your eyes as you'd pushed the slightly torn canvas bag filled with clothes and other necessities further into his arms. "After your fight tonight, there will be a dog hybrid named Min Yoongi in the locker room. He'll take you to the station.!" You said.

"And you?" He asks, dreading the answer he'd inevitably get.

"I'll be your insurance." You'd smiled.

"He'll take all his anger out on you-" He'd worried, and you'd nodded, and never looked so brave.

"I know." You'd told him. "But you'll live- and that's enough for me."

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"Flake has been replaced with Dohyun. The people aren't very happy with it, but he'll make them accept the change soon enough." Namjoon offers, setting some papers down in front of Jungkook, who looks like he might be asleep- face resting on his hand, arm perched up with his elbow on the armrest of his chair.

"Hm, they're never happy when a hybrid's on top." He mumbles lowly, eyes not opening. "I assume Flake didn't go… voluntarily." He asks.

"No." Namjoon responds. "Was executed on his balcony."

"Classy. I like it." Jungkook chuckles, eyes slowly opening as he takes in a deep breath. "Hm, I'm hungry-" He starts, looking at his watch on his wrist. "-let's hope Hideo doesn't piss me off tonight, or I might just have to swap him too." He growls, slowly getting up to prepare for the dinner he has to attend with the human gangleader.

Jungkook had the chance to get out. He's been given the chance after all, by the only person he's ever really considered he 'loved'- and yet his thirst for blood wouldn't let him go. The need for revenge was way too big inside him to be just satisfied with living his own life away from his past- but he couldn't.

They took everything he ever had away from him. They took you away from him. And he'd never forgive that.

So he began to convince Yoongi to join him in his plans, took the first few pillars out to make the fundamentals of the underground gang life crumble. He shook up the entire game, and began to 'swap out' human leaders with hybrids from his own rows- a gang he'd build up himself, consisting of almost exclusively hybrids of all kinds. He knows he's not doing any good with the way he's doing things- but he doesn't care.

If he can't change the game, he'll become the best player instead.

And currently, he's definitely on the road to take the seat as the king.

"Jungkook!" The rather eccentric man stands up, opens his arms for the hybrid who does not attempt to return the gesture or accept the invitation at all. "My favorite big cat, come take a seat!" He laughs it off, sits down with Jungkook, who keeps his face stoic and expressionless. "Can we have some chairs here please? I'd hate for your friends to stay standing while we eat-" He tries, but Jungkook shakes his head.

"No need. I'd rather have them pay at attention." Jungkook responds, and Hideo laughs in front of him.

"Always so on edge. Never change my boy!" He jokes, before the food is being placed on the table. "So. I heard you let Flake tumble down his balcony like a dramatic movie-climax." He chuckles, cutting into his steak. Jungkook nods, begins to eat as well, but keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. "Quite the spectacle. Made the higher up's a little nervous." He tells him.

"Good." Jungkook simply answers, and Hideo laughs.

Hideo is one of the only few human leaders left in his original spot- mainly because the man is rather interested in surviving, and keeping his head in one piece. He's smart, albeit a little bit unhinged- sometimes even causing Jungkook himself to feel uneasy around the man. He's a wildcard, and does what he wants whenever he wants, only follows rules if they're in his favor.

So Jungkook is wary of him, and doesn't trust that man as far as the bridge of his own nose.

"They say his minions aren't too happy with your new choice." The man mumbles, shrugging his shoulders however, clearly unbothered. "But they just don't like the change. What you should worry about however, is the money you're loosing." He says, making Jungkook's eyes sharpen.

"What money are you talking about?" He asks, finishing up his plate.

"The money you're not aware of." Hideo chuckles. "Flake had two daughters, and rumor has it they both emptied their bank accounts a few days before you struck and pushed Rapunzel down her tower." The man informs him, licking his knife while looking at Jungkook, who tries hard to make nothing visible on his face. He knows exactly what the man is trying to tell him.

Somehow, those daughters knew Jungkook would attack. Which in turns, means someone told them.

Which hints at a snitch.

"Sakata is currently finding them as we speak, so no worries about that." Hideo suggests, finishing his meal as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "The only thing you should do, would be to.. sniff out who needs to go, so to speak." He says, grinning at Yoongi, who pins his ears back in irritation at the joke. Jungkook leans back, tilts his head once, before he stands up.

"I want to know the whereabouts of those two daughters the moment you have them." Jungkook says dryly. "Do not kill them. I want to.. talk to them personally." He orders, and Hideo laughs, nodding with his hands clapping once.

"Of course! Oh and-" The human man grins, and it tells Jungkook that the man has something to say that will definitely cause problems. "-I heard my dear Chisoo left you a present at your estate?" He says, catching Jungkook off guard for a second, as the tiger hybrid looks to his side towards Namjoon, who shares an equally confused gaze. "Oh, you've not seen it yet? Hm, it does explain his good mood, doesn't it?" Hideo asks one of his guards who doesn't react. "Ah, I really liked that guy. Don't be too harsh on the boy, yeah? He doesn't know how to.. read a room, you know? His jokes can be terrible." He laughs.

Jungkook slowly leaves, but as soon as he sits inside the back of his car, he's growling out orders. "Call Chisoo right now." He demands Namjoon, who already dials the number. "If he doesn't answer we'll pay him a visit right now." He says, waiting for the speaker system of his car to reveal the voice of the man.

"Jungkook! What's up my guy?" The young voice chimes out.

"Cut the shit. What did you do?" Jungkook demands, and Chisoo just laughs on the other end.

"Oh you've not seen it yet? I thought you'd like it!" He says, clearly eating. "Saw the poor thing and remembered something I heard from a former guard of the Golden House." He chuckles, and Jungkook's blood runs cold. "Look man, I have some urgent business right now. If you don't want it, you can just get rid of it- I won't judge." He laughs, before he hangs up the phone.

"Tell Seokjin to check the premises before we drive back." Yoongi informs him from the driver's seat, instructing Namjoon who calls the man right away.

"Seokjin." Jungkook says as the phone is picked up. "What the fuck did Chisoo bring?" He demands to know, and grows increasingly uneasy when the answer isn't what he hoped he'd get.

"I.. you should just not worry about it. It was probably meant to just anger you." He tells the tiger hybrid, not specifying things. "I've already dealt with.. it, just-"

"That's not your decision to make." Jungkook growls. "I'm on my way back right now, and I want whatever it is in my office before I'm back at the estate. Am I making myself clear?" He demands.

"..yes." Seokjin simply complies, though with great hesitation.

Because he knows, the moment Jungkook knows what it is, there will be nothing capable of calming Jungkook down.

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One, two, three.

You're counting each tick of the clock standing on the table in the office, waiting for something to happen. That's all you've been instructed to do- the man earlier having escorted you here, and just told you to 'wait', and nothing else. So you do just that, naked feet on the soft carpet, intricate details on the fabric almost hypnotizing you. It's already a lot warmer in here than in your room at the Golden House- and the man who brought you here had given you his jacket too, probably because he thought you were shaking from the cold.

Which you did- but you also tend to shiver from fear, mostly due to your hybrid instincts.

Just.. in here, you don't really feel scared. It smells familiar in here, like something you forgot existed- almost like a childhood memory, far away but reawakened right in this moment. It soothes your worries and slows down your thoughts tremendously.

ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six.

You can hear faint noises now, ears turning towards the door behind you, though your body otherwise doesn't move. you don't dare to, since the handcuffs around your wrists might make a noise, and no one told you if you were allowed to move anyways. So you just stay still, even when you can hear someone argue in front of the door, angrily, upset. The voice is familiar, again- but you don't recall a face to it whatsoever.

One hundred.

The door opens, people walk in. Your face stays lowered, you don't even dare to swallow the saliva in your mouth. "Why the fuck did he send me a hybrid?!" Someone growls, and it makes your throat clog up, angry tone causing your muscles to tremble once more. "Fuck. And why is she not-" He starts, before he stops right next to you, frozen in place almost like you are- though due to different reasons.

"Jungkook-" Someone sighs, when Jungkook next to you talks again, but in a truly bone-chilling tone.

It's so low, and steady, that it makes everyone wordlessly follow the command.

"Out." He says. "Everyone, out, right fucking now." He growls, and both Namjoon and Yoongi leave, though the dog hybrid hesitates a little- shocked as well by the sight of you, most likely.

Once the door closes, it quiets down. All you can really hear is the way the man called Jungkook walks around, paces for a good while, clearly in distress. You're not sure why you're causing him to be like this- maybe he doesn't know if he wants to kill you or not. Or he's fighting primal urges to hunt you down as a predator hybrid. It could be a lot of things.

You lost track of the ticking. You can't hear it properly with Jungkook moving around like that.

"Don't- stop doing that.!" He suddenly says, and you notice yourself panicking. What are you doing right now? You're not moving, you're not looking at him, and neither have you said anything- though that's out of the question anyways. What are you doing that you need to stop? You're barely even breathing- maybe that's it? It's an odd request, and you doubt you can properly follow it for long, but if he wants you to do that-

"Stop being scared!" He suddenly roars at you, hands on your shoulders making you whimper out of pure instinct, as you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Don't-.. I'm not.." He stammers, before he takes a deep breath, seems to control himself as his hands leave your shoulders, instead push themselves into the pockets of his slacks. "Look at me." He demands, and you do just that.

His hair is fairly long, growing over his ears, curly and a deep black. There's two round tiger ears between his wild hair, one of them a little torn, but the scar seems long healed. His eyes are piercing, watching you intently as if he's searching for something with desperation, jawline sharp but his face has a certain roundness to it.

It doesn't distract you from the danger he radiates, tail swaying impatiently behind him. He's a tiger, in every way- large shoulders and powerful muscles unable to be hidden even underneath the suit he wears.

But there's a certain shift in his posture and most of all his gaze as he seems to realize something about you.

"Who am I." He asks, or more so orders you to answer. You begin to panic once more. How are you supposed to answer that? "Who. Am. I." He repeats slower, and you open your mouth to say something-

though no coherent word leaves your lips, only barely a noise that even sounds like it hurts, and it makes your eyes sting.

Jungkook seems to grow angry again. Is he upset that you can't answer? Will he kill you now, because you're unable to give him a proper response?

"Do-" He looks absolutely devastated, and for some reason, it makes you sad. "Do you know who I am?" he quietly asks, bracing himself for the answer he might receive.

Though nothing could prepare him for the pain he feels in his entire body when you quietly shake your head, confirming his worst fears.

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You've not only forgotten him- but everything else too, it seems like, according to Namjoon, who'd been trying to sort you out since Jungkook left you in his office, unable to really have you close like that any longer. His friend had tried it all, and had also let someone with medical knowledge have a look at you- which also gave an explanation about why you just won't talk.

You can't. It's not clear what exactly must've happened, but there's a definite injury there that won't let you make any sound without pain.

It's now pretty obvious to him that you must've gotten caught giving him a way out- and you probably paid the consequences for it too. Whatever happened caused you to forget most of your past, and no one can be sure if it's permanent, or just temporary. What is clear however is that you're completely hollow. There's no trace of a personality in anything you do, no personal preferences towards anything, no interest, not even very noticeable emotions.

It's not surprising to him- and maybe that's what pains him the most.

"So if you don't tell her what to do, she will just do nothing at all?" Jungkook asks as he looks through some documents to distract himself. The more he thinks about you, the darker the possible punishments that you most likely received become in his head- mind forcing scene after scene of you into his brain.

"Won't even sleep if no one tells her to. She was awake the whole night because no one told her when to sleep I guess." Namjoon says, arms crossed. "It's hard to tell what she's thinking considering she doesn't talk." Namjoon sighs defeated, while Jungkook stares at the papers for a moment.

You used to talk a lot, back when he was still used for underground fighting, and you were nothing but a maid for the gangleader. He remembers you humming random songs while dressing his wounds- something you told him was to mostly distract yourself from not crying in front of him.

"I'll fight better next time." He'd told you while you carefully placed the large plaster onto one of the scratches that's still bleeding. "So you won't have to cry."

"I want every bit of info as to where she came from before Chisoo got his hands on her." He tells Yoongi who's been sitting in the corner.

"I believe Chisoo bought her straight from the Golden House. Overheard him talk to one of the guests." Yoongi responds, and Jungkook nods.

"Good." He smirks, standing up, and bracing his hands on the table with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "I've got some unfinished business with them anyways." He says. The Golden House was no longer a place of fear for him- because just like you, Jungkook isn't who he used to be.

"You're going to start a war over a hybrid friend you made years ago?" Namjoon worries. "Jungkook.." he sighs, but the Tiger hybrid doesn't back down.

Because you're not just a friend.

You were his Savior, the only soft thing he's ever had in his life.

"No. I'm not just starting a war-" Jungkook growls like the predator he is. "I'm getting my revenge."

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Yoongi watches over you like a guard dog, just like Jungkook had told him to.

You'd overheard the tall tiger hybrid give those instructions to Yoongi just before he left in his car, and now you're left standing in the hallway where someone last told you to wait. "Come. You need to eat." The dog hybrid mumbles, walking a step before he checks if you follow. You do.

Of course you do.

You'd jump out the fucking window if someone told you to do so.

Before you were taken in by the Golden House, you'd actually roamed the streets with the dog hybrid together. You'd slept in a storage unit his past owner had rented before he died, a small place of shelter you eventually shared with Yoongi before you met Yuan Shun, the past head of the Golden House. You'd been way too naive back then. Told Yoongi you'd finally found a home to go to, finally found work to pay him back all his kindness.

You didn't know what you'd get yourself into. Not before Shun had forced you to get the small tattoo on your wrist that would forever bind you to him no matter if he died or lived. Every member of the Golden House had to get it one way or another- there was no way around it.

It was burned into everyone's wrist, whether they wanted it or not.

And once you're in, there is no out.

"Jungkook won't harm you." Yoongi says as he pulls out a bowl of something prepared, before he puts it into the microwave to heat it up. "He's just.. he can be a bit.." the dog hybrid sighs, shaking his head a little, unsure how to phrase it properly. Jungkook has his own problems, and it's pretty obvious to everyone around him that he's not the sanest of people any longer. No one can blame him for cracking a few braincells after what's happened to him, that's true- but that doesn't mean that he's a monster.

He's just scarred by his past, and haunted by his potential future.

You want to ask Yoongi what your connection to the tiger hybrid is. You really do- but you also feel like it's none of your business. If anything, you're simply waiting for orders, for a job you'll be working as from now on, a task you'll be given in this new place. The dynamic of things here is confusing to you, how everyone seems to walk freely, no one ever standing in one place waiting to be needed. You even saw someone laughing in one of the hallways.

It's eerie. You don't like it here.

"Eat." Yoongi says, before he holds your wrist, one of his ears twitching in irritation when he notices it's the one with the fine lined burn mark of the Golden House. "- when it's cooled down a little, of course." He sighs, and you nod after a moment, staring at the bowl of pasta.

Waiting. Counting the ticking from the clock in the kitchen.

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"I don't give a flying fuck-" Jungkook growls, knee connecting with the man's jaw once more before he pushes the chair back, gripping his face to force him to look at him. "-about your so-called loyalty." He finishes his sentence. "The only reason I'm not breaking your jaw yet is because I need you to be able to talk." He threatens, before he steps back, and wipes his hand on a tissue.

"I'm not talking. Daeho will-" He starts, when Jungkook slowly and carefully loads a black gun in his hand, pulling the magazine back to ready it in his hands.

"Daeho will what?" Jungkook almost sings. "Kill you?" He asks with feigned innocence in his tone, while he walks forward, and points the nuzzle of the gun straight at the man's kneecap. "How nice. But you see, I'm not Daeho." The tiger tells him, tilting his head a little.

"And I'm not nice."

A shot rings through the small room, followed by agonized screaming, and the gun reloading in Jungkook's hands. "Now, I'll try again. Why did Daeho sell her to Chisoo?" He asks, and the man takes a few deep breaths.

"He wanted to fuck with you." He grits out from between his teeth. "He knew it would piss you off. He technically wanted to send you a tape- you know what kind." He says, and Jungkook's blood boils up again. Of course he knows what kind of actions that sick man would have forced you to do, what exactly he'd make Jungkook watch. "But he thought-.." The man needs to catch himself a little. "He thought it'd make more sense to give her to you instead. Alive."

"Why?" Jungkook asks.

"Because you'd lose your fucking- whatever the fuck you're doing!" He groans. "You'd turn soft. Maybe even break at the sight of her all fucked up like she is now." He explains. "That's why he messed her up before you got her." he says, clearly sweating now from his body trying to keep up with the rapid bloodloss.

Jungkook is silent, before he unloads the gun, clicks the safety in place, and puts it back into it's holster on his belt, turning to leave the room. "Wait- wait, what about me-!"

"You can bleed out right here like the pig you are."

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Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Mostly, because whatever was, isn't any better than what is now. The blood staining Jungkook's hands is still the same consistency as back in the fighting ring, it still washes down the drain the same way as it did before. There's nothing new to the way his knuckles hurt from the force of the punches he'd delivered to the man, and yet, there's a new sting in his chest that just won't leave.

Before you came here, he had at least a way of pacifying his worries about you. Before, he'd been able to just convince himself that you probably got yourself killed for him- that you'd been set free after all, finally escaping your cage once and for all.

The fact that you did not, and instead just went from one cage to the next, makes him nauseous. He doesn't even want to know what you had to endure throughout the years you'd been apart. Now you're just a shell- a plastic lifeless version of what you once were, nothing of your soul remaining inside of you. Could he even consider you 'you' any longer? Or were you now someone else?

Are you someone at all?

"Where is she?" Jungkook asks Seokjin, who'd brought him a plate of dinner into his office.

"She's eating with Yoongi downstairs in the kitchen." He tells his boss and friend, who's currently looking outside the window facing the balcony. "What do we do with her?"

I don't know, is what Jungkook's only answer can be. Because he surely doesn't- he's unsure if actually killing you would be a more generous thing to do than letting you simply waste away in the state that you're in right now. What you are, in this moment, can't be called 'alive'. There's nothing living behind those eyes, nothing but fear.

But he also knows that he'd never be able to put the gun to your head and shoot.

"Can I give a suggestion?" Jin asks after a moment of silence, and Jungkook turns his head, nodding. "What if you turn this whole 'joke' around?"

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks, body now moving as well to face his older friend.

"Right now, her presence is doing exactly what it's supposed to." The cat hybrid says. "She's making you lose focus, makes you act without thinking. That's what they want."

"I'm not killing her." Jungkook defends.

"I'm not asking you to." Seokjin says, walking closer. "But think about it. What about her is making you feel like this the most?" He urges.

The fear you have. The fact you forgot him. The terror in your eyes. The emptiness you represent.

"Jungkook, you told me once that back then, she was the only thing keeping you sane in that place." The man says, white ears twitching between his hair. "And she can become just that once again."

"Have you seen her?" Jungkook growls.

"Have you?" Jin challenges. "You're in a place of power here. You call the shots, this-" He gestures around. "-all of this is yours. You offer us protection, a home, a place to let our guard down for once. You're not who you were before. You turned your life around- and you can do it again, but this time, it'll be her's." He says, and suddenly, Jungkook understands what his friend is trying to tell him.

This is his place. His territory. He's in charge. He's in control.

Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Because he'll be the change it needs to turn this twisted joke around.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Remember, he's nothing to be scared of." Yoongi tells you, before he opens the door, and gently pushes you inside by your lower back- before he leaves you alone with the tiger hybrid in the room, no longer wearing his jacket, only dressed in a casually unbuttoned black shirt and slacks.

Even his gun is on the table. You could take it at any moment, shoot him, no problem. You know how to shoot a gun. Is he that stupid?

Probably not. There has to be a reason for his actions- you don't think he got to his position by being reckless.

He moves slowly, a lot more confident and most of all relaxed than when you last saw him- the person he is right in this moment a stark contrast to who he'd been when he first saw you. It makes you suspicious, unsure, because if he houses so many different versions of himself inside his body, how could you ever know who the real one is?

"The rules in this house, and under my hand, are simple." He says, voice surprisingly calm as he speaks. "Loyalty." He states, looks at you- and from the fact alone that he doesn't seem to mind, you guess that Yoongi was right when he said that you were allowed to do that. "As long as you don't betray me, I will offer you a safe place, and protection."

That doesn't make sense to you.

If that was true, that would mean that he'd just take in random people just because they don't snitch on him- what the hell would he even get out of that? Inside the Golden House, there were already rumors about him. That he's possessed by the drive to 'change the game' and put hybrids up on top, an odd way to live since apparently he'd escaped this entire circus years prior. Why would he willingly return to it?

Even worse, play the game he barely managed to get out of?

He sits down on the edge of his bed, and only now do you realize where exactly you might be right now. And it confuses you even more. He's letting you into his personal rooms?

Why?

"Come here." He says, and your legs move without any of your control. Like a puppet on a string you're pulled towards him, unable to really go against any orders told to you, like you're mind controlled. The moment you stand in front of him, he reaches out his hand- and you're torn by the possible choice given to you. But if he reaches out, you're supposed to take the hand, right?

Instead, you put your own in his, not making a decision at all.

Control is a scary thing. You don't want it.

He looks at your wrist as he turns your hand over, thumb running over the signature branding you have on your skin, burned in scar never fading. It's when you can spot something on the hand that holds yours, between all the ink and color he's placed underneath the skin. A scar, achingly similar to your own.

Your eyes find his- but he's not looking at you.

So he's from the same place as you once were. Is that why he smells so familiar? Did you forget him? Or did you never know him at all, and simply caught traces of him during your time at the Golden House?

Who is he?

"From now on, you're mine." He tells you, and you soak up that info like a sponge. "You belong here, and nowhere else." He says, and you nod to make sure he knows that you understand. There's a small moment where he simply looks at you, before he nods as well, and lets go of your hand. "Can you write?" He asks, and you eagerly nod, finally expecting a task from him. You'll be useful, you'll have something to do- you won't just have to stand around and wait for something that never happens. "Good. That gives me at least some way you can talk to me, I guess." He mumbles to himself as he gets up and walks past you, to dig around in a small drawer of a desk close by. "I want you to talk. If not with your voice-" He offers a small, palm sized notebook to you, a pen clipped to it's side. "-then with this."

You take the booklet with a nod, opening it to write something down. He expects a thank you- but that's not what he gets.

'What is my purpose here?' you've written, and he sighs to himself.

"Heal." He says, making you look at him confused. You're already starting to show a lot more emotions he notices, and it calms him down quite a bit, because that means that even though you may have forgotten him, you're at least slowly adapting to the overall environment you're now in. You move to write something again, before you hold out the booklet.

'There has to be a job for me.' you write, and he tilts his head at you, arms crossed, veins clear under his forearms, exposed since he'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

"And I just told you what it is." He responds, face expressionless, but eyes glimmering with something almost mischievous. "Your job is to heal, adjust, and adapt to the way I run things." He tells you. "But if you want a.. job, I can try and arrange something for you." He huffs, dissatisfied, but still caving in.

You show him the opened page again, something added to the bottom.

'Thank you' is written there.

He just nods, and knocks on his door to give Namjoon the sign to take you to your room so you can sleep- and leave him by himself for a moment, as he watches the calm night-sky from his window, world steadily moving on while he doesn't know what's to come for him.

Even if Seokjin is right, there is no guarantee that this whole thing won't just backfire horribly. And there's still the looming threat of someone amongst his people who's currently the biggest danger to the house of cards Jungkook had barely built up over the years until now. If that person just so much as pushes one more card, it might all come falling down-

and this time, he'll take you with him.

If he dies, you can't survive.

Because if you do, you'll probably face a fate he doesn't even want to imagine.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

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whoslai · 1 year

Text

Off The Menu - Lee Heeseung (Chapter 2)

genre: angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, eventual smut!! (you’re responsible for what you consume, read at your own risk)

warnings: lowkey suggestive texts, heeseung is sooooo into y/n (trust me), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breast play??, oral ( fem receiving), sad goodbyes :(((

send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged! thank you to all my new followers, you guys are amazing for supporting me. please interact and give me as much feedback as you’d like (don’t be an ass tho, no need to spread negativity.

not proof read, sorry for any typos in advance.

word count: 5.4k

link to series masterlist or whatever

next chapter

Chapter 2: “Oh my God.”

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As quickly as you had read his text, you placed your phone down; Oh my God, he was flirting with you. Maybe the attraction had been reciprocated. How could you be so oblivious to the multitude of hints he had been throwing at you all night? Calling you smart? Beautiful? Jesus. Ningning was right.

However, you plugged your phone up and turned the screen face down. You didn’t want to continue the conversation until after you woke up as you were unsure of how to respond. Hmm, I’m intrigued. How shall I find out? You replayed his text over and over in your mind. Why’d you flirt with his ass? He was bold, you weren’t. Anywho, you spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, your mind racing with thoughts of Heeseung. You couldn't believe how much he had managed to charm you in such a short amount of time, but you were thrilled at the prospect of getting to know him better.

But at the same time, you were also filled with self-doubt and insecurity. You couldn't help but wonder if the waiter was really interested in you, or if he was just looking for a quick fling. You'd been hurt in the past, and your worst fear was getting hurt again.

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The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. You knew you wanted to talk to Heeseung, but you were still unsure of how to respond to his flirtatious text. Finally, you decided to take a deep breath and replied to him, informing him that you had fallen asleep.

His lack of immediate response was expected, however of course, you could only hope that he wouldn’t hold it against you that you needed time to sleep on the entire situation. You noticed how early it was, seeing that Ningning was still fast asleep. You got up and showered, throwing on a top and some pants as you checked your phone to see if he had replied. To your relief, he had merely replied, “Gotchu, don’t worry about it. Maybe we can meet up sometime soon before you go back to school.”

You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you read Heeseung's message. You were glad that he wasn't upset with you for taking some time to respond, and you were excited at the prospect of seeing him again soon. You soon replied that you could meet for breakfast, to which he simply sent a location and “10 AM. Be there or be square.”

You checked the clock. You only had about an hour to get ready so you quickly stripped yourself of your casual clothing and put on a pair of jeans and a tee. Ningning poked her head up at you, staring through half lidded eyes, “What time is it?”

“Time for me…to go…meet Heeseung for breakfast.” You told her, awkwardly smiling.

“Who the fuck is Heeseung?” She laughed, rubbed her eyes.

“The waiter from last night. He texted me really late…” You explained.

“Oh?” She questioned, “What’d he say?”

You took your phone out and showed her. As she read it, a smile slowly crept on her face, “Can I say something inappropriate?”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you slowly nodded, “Sure…go ahead.”

“He wants you so bad.” She giggled, pushing you away.

You rolled your eyes at Ningning's comment, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. You knew that she meant well, but sometimes her sense of humor could be a little off-color.

"Stop it, Ningning," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "He's a stranger.”

Ningning nodded, still grinning. "Sure, just a stranger who texts you in the middle of the night and wants to take you out to breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile at her teasing, feeling grateful for her lightheartedness. Despite the challenges you were facing in your life, it was moments like these that reminded you of the importance of friendship and laughter.

As you got ready to leave, Ningning gave you a hug. "Have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

“Pff, that’s not saying much…” You said.

She scoffed, hitting your shoulder as you left the hotel room with her keys. You chuckled at Ningning's response, feeling grateful for her ability to make light of any situation. As you left the hotel room with her keys, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. Meeting up with a stranger for breakfast wasn't something you did every day, and you weren't sure what to expect.

As you made your way to the breakfast spot where the stranger had suggested you meet, you couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. But as you arrived and saw him sitting at a booth in the corner, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. He stood up as you approached and gave you a smile.

“Well, well, well. We will meet again.” He joked, greeting you with a warm hug.

You smiled at his kind gesture, hugging him back. “Indeed we do.” You felt a sense of comfort in his embrace, grateful for his friendly gesture. As you pulled away from the hug, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for taking the time to meet with you.

As you sat down at the booth and ordered breakfast, you found yourself feeling more at ease in his presence; He was easy to talk to, kind, all of the above. He was an amazing listener and genuinely might have been one of the funniest people you’d known. He effortlessly made you laugh.

You found yourself enjoying the conversation with him more and more as you talked over breakfast. He had a way of putting you at ease, making you feel like you could be yourself without any judgment. He listened attentively to everything you had to say and offered thoughtful insights and advice.

But what really stood out to you was his sense of humor. He had a way of making even the most mundane things seem funny and interesting. You found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, feeling grateful for the lightheartedness and joy he brought to the conversation.

“Heeseung, can I ask you a personal question?” You asked, sipping your orange juice.

His eyebrows raised, “Uh oh, how personal are we getting?”

“Very personal.” You emphasized, smiling.

Heeseung's eyebrows raised even higher at your response, but he couldn't help but smile back at you. "Alright, shoot. I'm an open book."

You took a deep breath, feeling a little nervous about asking such a personal question. “Promise you won’t get offended.”

Heeseung's smile softened as he sensed your nervousness. "I promise I won't get offended," he said reassuringly. "You can ask me anything."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you at his words, grateful for his understanding and empathy. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before asking your question. “Do you normally take customers out to breakfast the morning after you meet them?”

Heeseung's smile faded slightly as he considered your question. "No, I don't usually take customers out to breakfast," his voice softened, “Is it wrong for me to want to get to know such a pretty girl as yourself?”

You couldn't help but feel flattered by Heeseung's comment. Despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself warming up to him and his easy going personality. You had to admit that you were intrigued by the idea of getting to know him better as a person, not just as a waiter.

"I don't think it's wrong at all," you said, smiling back at Heeseung. "In fact, I'm flattered that you want to get to know me better."

Heeseung's smile returned, and he seemed to relax. "That's great to hear," he said. You sighed, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. “Now, since you’ve asked me a question…can I ask you a question as well?” he asked.

"Of course," you said, returning his smile. "Ask me anything."

“Pinky promise you won’t run away once I ask.” he said, holding out his pinky.

You smiled at Heeseung's playful gesture and interlocked your pinky with his. "I pinky promise," you said, feeling a sense of lightheartedness.

Heeseung grinned at your response. "Alright, here's my question," he said, his voice teasing. “Are you single?”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at Heeseung's question, but at the same time, you found yourself drawn to him and his easygoing personality. You had to admit that you were interested in him, and you wondered if he felt the same way. "I am single, actually," you said, offering him a small smile. “Never had a boyfriend before, actually.”

“When you say never…do you mean that you’ve never dated seriously or have you really never dated…ever?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a bit.

You felt a little embarrassed by Heeseung's question, but you appreciated his curiosity and openness. "I've never really dated," you admitted, your voice soft. "I've always been focused on my work and my studies, so I haven't had a lot of time for relationships."

“Then that leads me to my next question.” He said.

“What would that be?” You asked.

Heeseung leaned forward slightly, his expression curious. You couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as Heeseung leaned forward with a curious expression. You wondered what his next question would be.

“Are you considering this breakfast meetup a ‘date’?” He asked.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at Heeseung's question, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way you did. "I hadn't really thought about it like that," you admitted, your voice soft. "But if you're asking if I'm interested in you...then yes, I am.”

He clicked his tongue, drinking the rest of his water, a mischievous glint in his eye as he said, “Do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

You shook your head, feeling a little shy and uncertain. "No, what are you thinking?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m thinking…that we should get out of here…and go somewhere else. Somewhere more fun.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"That sounds like a great idea," you said, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Where do you have in mind?"

He leaned back, a small smile on his face as he said, “Oh, you know…maybe my place…anywhere.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and excitement at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"Your place, huh?" you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice. "Are you trying to seduce me, Heeseung?"

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your banter. "Maybe," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "But seriously, how about we go for a drive up the coast? We can stop at some scenic overlooks and take in the views."

You felt a sense of happiness and anticipation at the thought of a romantic drive with Heeseung. "That sounds amazing," you said, smiling at him.

He nodded, taking his wallet out as he threw money down on the table and held his hand out. You held onto his hand, following him out of the restaurant.

As you walked out of the restaurant hand in hand with Heeseung, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for your upcoming drive. You felt a newfound connection with him, and the thought of spending more time together filled you with happiness. It was finally your turn to experience something with a boy after all these years. All this time of telling every man around you “no”, shying away from going on dates and so much more.

As Heeseung led you towards his car, you took a moment to take in his features. He was tall with a lean build, and his dark hair was styled in a trendy yet effortless way. You found yourself drawn to his easy confidence and playful personality, and you couldn't wait to see where the day would take you.

As Heeseung opened the car door for you and helped you get in, you felt a sense of appreciation towards him. He seemed to value your comfort and well-being, and you found yourself feeling even more attracted to him.

As he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, you felt a sense of adventure and excitement.

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As he drove, soft tunes emitted from his radio. He made small talk here and there about small things from places to visit in Malibu to asking you questions about your college life.

Once you two reached a nearby beach, he held the door open for you as you both got out. He offered to hold your shoes for you, to which you declined, preferring to keep your shoes on in the sand.

“You mustn't be from Cali if you’re genuinely going to wear your tennis shoes in the sand.” He said.

“You’re right, I’m not from Cali. I’m all the way from Virginia.” You said.

“West Virginia?” He asked. “Yes sir.” You told him, settling down beside him in the sand.

As you settled down beside Heeseung in the sand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and ease around him. Despite your initial nervousness, he had a way of putting you at ease and making you feel at home.

"So you're from Virginia, huh?" he said, his voice curious. "What brought you all the way out to California? Just school?"

You smiled at Heeseung, appreciating his interest in your background. "School was definitely part of it," you said, nodding your head. "But I was also looking for a change of scenery and a chance to explore new opportunities."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I get that," he said, his voice thoughtful. "California is definitely a place of opportunity and adventure, if you know where to look."

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth towards Heeseung's positive outlook on life. "That's exactly what I was thinking," you said, smiling at him.

As you both sat in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, you felt a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. Despite your different backgrounds and experiences, you shared a common sense of curiosity and adventure that drew you together.

“Thank you for buying me breakfast, by the way. It was really good, I had a lot of fun talking to you.” You told him.

Heeseung turned his head towards you, a soft smile on his face. "Of course," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time too. It's not often I meet someone who's as adventurous and curious as you are."

You felt a sense of happiness and appreciation at Heeseung's compliment. "Thank you," you said, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I guess I just like to explore and try new things."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I can definitely relate to that," he said. "Did I ever tell you that I studied music in college?

You felt a sense of surprise and curiosity at Heeseung's revelation. "No, you didn't," you said, your voice intrigued. "That's really interesting. What kind of music did you study?"

Heeseung smiled, seeming to enjoy your interest. "I studied contemporary guitar performance," he said. "It was a really intense program, but I learned a lot about discipline and hard work."

You felt a sense of admiration towards Heeseung's dedication and commitment to his craft. "That's really impressive," you said, smiling at him. "I can tell you're really passionate about music."

Heeseung nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Definitely," he said. "Music is my life. It's a way to express myself and connect with others in a meaningful way."

You nodded, feeling a sense of appreciation towards Heeseung's outlook on life. "That's really beautiful," you said. "I think it's amazing when people can find something they're truly passionate about and pursue it with all their heart."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to share in your enthusiasm. "I agree," he said. "I think it's important to follow your dreams and passions, no matter what anyone else says. Life is too short to not do what makes you happy."

“You have an amazing outlook on life. I wish I were more like you…” You told him, turning your attention to the waves.

“More like me?” he asked.

“Yeah…I feel like I’m so…dull and pessimistic. I’m always a future person rather than a present person. You know what I mean?” You told him.

"I don't think you're dull or pessimistic at all," he said, his voice reassuring. "In fact, I think you're one of the most interesting and curious people I've met."

You felt a sense of warmth and comfort at Heeseung's words. "Really?" you said.

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your uncertainty. "Definitely," he said. "I think it's great that you're always thinking about the future and striving to improve yourself. But at the same time, it's important to enjoy the present moment and appreciate the little things in life."

You nodded at his comment, “True…”

“Like now…I’m enjoying my time with you. I am taking in everything you say and relishing in the moment.” He told you.

“Oh…wow…um..” You trailed off, “That’s nice…”

He laughed at your words, “You’re so cute and awkward.”

You felt a sense of embarrassment and amusement at Heeseung's comment. "I'm not that awkward," you said, trying to sound indignant.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to find your reaction amusing. "I think you're adorable," he said, his voice warm. "Your awkwardness is part of your charm."

“Shut up, Heeseung. Like actually, zip your mouth shut.” You sarcastically told him, pushing him away from you.

Heeseung laughed, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "Hey, I'm just telling the truth," he said, his voice still warm. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"Fine, fine," you said, trying to sound annoyed. "I guess I'll just have to accept that I'm adorable."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your good humor. "That's the spirit," he said. "Embrace your inner adorableness."

As the sun continued to set over the beach, casting a warm glow over the sand, you felt a sense of happiness and contentment settle over you. The warmth of Heeseung’s body bounced off of your skin, creating an energetic connection between the both of you.

You could feel his kindness, his easy-goingness, him. And he felt good. You didn’t want this feeling to end.

Watching the sunset and feeling the warmth of his presence, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. It was as if all the stresses and worries of everyday life had melted away, leaving you with nothing but the present moment and the person sitting beside you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, feeling a sense of appreciation and gratitude towards him. "Thank you for bringing me here," you said, your voice soft. "This is really beautiful."

Heeseung smiled, seeming to understand your sentiment. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice warm. "It's one of my favorite places to come and just relax."

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. There was something about him that made you feel more comfortable and at ease than you had with anyone else in a long time. It was a feeling you didn't want to let go of.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the beach into a soft orange glow, you felt a sense of both excitement and apprehension about what the future held.

You checked your phone, noticing that it was getting a bit late. You didn’t want to have to drive back to campus so late at night so you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Reluctantly, you said, “I’ve got to head back to the hotel. We only planned on staying for a night.”

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your situation. "I understand," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time with you today. Thank you for spending time with me."

You smiled at him, feeling a sense of appreciation and warmth towards him. "Thank you for showing me this beautiful place," you said. "I had a great time too."

As you began to gather your things, you felt a sense of both excitement and sadness at the prospect of leaving. You had enjoyed your time with Heeseung so much that you didn't want it to end, but you knew that you had to return to your everyday life.

You two walked back to his car and began your journey back to the hotel.

“So you say you’ve neverrrrr had a boyfriend, yeah?” He asked, turning the music down.

“Never.” You told him. “Why are you so interested in my failed love life, Heeseung?” you teased, turning to look at him.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "I'm not interested in your failed love life," he said, his voice warm. "I'm interested in you.

"Well, I'm glad you're interested in me," you said, your voice laced with playfulness. "I think you're pretty interesting too."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your flirtatious tone. "Oh really?" he said, his voice low and husky. "I have a feeling we could be pretty interesting together."

You felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the chemistry palpable. "I think you might be right," you said, your voice soft and seductive.

As you drove back to the hotel, the tension between you and Heeseung continued to build, the air charged with anticipation and desire. Of course, you hadn’t had the intention of doing anything with him…not this soon. But, there was a lot of “want” behind your feelings for him.

He pulled into the front of the hotel, putting his car into park, not saying anything. As the silence between you and Heeseung lingered, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of the attraction between the two of you. You had never felt this kind of desire before, and it both excited and scared you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, him doing the same. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on your lips; The desire was mutual, and it was clear that neither of you could ignore it any longer.

Without thinking, you leaned in towards him, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. Heeseung met you halfway, his lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless.

In that moment, everything else melted away, and all that mattered was the two of you and your desire for each other. As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion building with every passing moment.

His hand slid up to rest against your cheek as he pulled your face closer to his own, lifting the arm rest up that separated the two of you. His lips dominated your own, leading to him taking over and guiding you through the kiss. You’d never EVER gone this far with a man before…but it all felt so right.

You felt a sense of surrender as Heeseung deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before. As he pulled you even closer, you let yourself be consumed by the passion of the moment, giving yourself over to the desire that had been building between the two of you.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored your mouth with his tongue, teasing and tasting you with a hunger that matched your own. You had never felt so alive, so consumed by the desire for another person.

“Shit…” He huffed out, pulling his lips away. The only thing left connecting you both was a small string of saliva coming from your mouth. “I forgot we were parked in the front.”

Feeling overwhelmingly confident, you replied, “So then let’s go somewhere else.”

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by your boldness. But as he looked at you, he saw the desire and passion in your eyes and he knew that he couldn't resist.

"Okay," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Somewhere else it is."

Just as quickly as he had said that, he drove off. As you drove through the dark streets, you could feel the excitement and anticipation building within you, the desire for Heeseung overwhelming.

Finally, Heeseung pulled into a secluded spot and turned off the car, turning to look at you with a hunger that matched your own. As he leaned in to kiss you, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion growing more and more strong.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you closer to him as he settled you both in the back. You situated yourself on top of his lap as his hands gripped onto your waist.

His fingers hovered over your top, stopping as he looked up at you, “When you say you’ve never had a boyfriend….does that mean you’re a virgin?”

You felt a rush of heat spread through your body at Heeseung's question, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had never been with a man before, and the thought of exploring your sexuality with Heeseung was both overwhelming and enticing.

"Y-yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a virgin."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your hesitation. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”

You looked into Heeseung's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and care in them. You took a deep breath, feeling the nerves building within you, but also feeling a sense of trust in him.

"I'm sure," you said, your voice steady and firm. "I want to be with you.”

With that, Heeseung leaned in and kissed you again. The passion between you two was undeniable, and as you explored each other's bodies, you felt a sense of liberation and excitement wash over you.

He’d eventually stripped you of your clothing, laying you down on your back as he hovered over you.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes,” You told him, “I’m okay.”

You were drunk off of his kisses, feeling nothing very pure ecstasy as his eyes sparkled underneath the moonlight.

He kissed down from your lips to your collarbone, soon attaching his lips around one of your nipples, threading the other between his index and thumb.

He sucked around the surrounding area, sending sparks throughout your body. You bit your lip, attempting to contain the explicit noises that so desperately wanted to escape.

He kept at this for a while before his free hand slid down your stomach atop your panties. Your breath hitched as you felt his body heat radiating down onto your pussy.

“Oh shit, Heeseung…” You moaned as he removed his mouth from your breast and lifted your legs up and apart.

“Nervous?” He asked.

You nodded, “So nervous…”

“Don’t worry…I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, slipping your panties to the side and pressing his thumb down against your clit.

“Oh!” You gasped, his thumb pressing down harder and harder to see how much you could take.

“Feels good?” He asked. You shyed away from answering him and looked down at your legs. “Y/N…”

You shook your head, covering your face as you noticed your confidence slowly diminishing.

His thumb withdrew from you and was replaced by his mouth. His tongue lapped up your sensitive flaps and you couldn’t help but let out a loud string of moans. His mouth felt so good against you, your fingers were nothing compared to how good he felt.

You took your arms down and ran your fingers through his hair, urging him to go faster as you could feel a knot growing in your lower belly.

He sucked on your clit, allowing spit to dribble out of his mouth onto you, adding more pleasure.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone on his tongue. He happily lapped your release up, licking his lips clean of your juices.

He looked up at you, and you looked down at him as you came down from your high.

“You look so pretty like this,” He said, slipping his shirt off, “All laid out. Just for me.”

Once his pants were off, you could see his print in his briefs. You should’ve known that he’d be big, how could a man like him be anything but big?

“I don’t have any condoms…” He said, caressing your thighs, “Sure you still wanna continue?”

“I’m sure.” You told him, allowing him to pull your panties completely off.

He did away with his briefs and you took him all in. He was big. He was perfect. He was everything and above.

He opened your legs some more to accommodate for himself and placed his hand on your pelvis, holding himself within his hand.

“If it hurts, tell me.” He said.

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, looking up at your face as it contorted up from the stretch. You held onto his hand and he intertwined his fingers with your own.

“Fuck…” He groaned, tightly holding onto you. “You’re so tight, y/n…”

You looked down at where you both had connected, taking a few deep breaths before urging him to continue.

He slowly started to thirst inside of you, starting off gentle before you told him he could speed up. Soon he went from gentle and unsteady to hard and controlled.

His stomach brushed against your clit with each thrust, adding on to the pure bliss you were feeling. You thought you’d last much longer than you did, but with the combination of you being stimulated in more ways than one, you came within minutes. Tears fell from your eyes as moans ripped through your throat and your hand tightened within him as your nails dug in.

His thirsts staggered and he quickly stopped, pulling out and finishing on your stomach. Your head fell back and you closed your legs, feeling your body sink into his seat from exhaustion.

For a while, he didn’t say anything. But eventually, he slipped his clothing back on and opened the glove compartment, wiping your stomach with some few napkins he had.

You were too tired to do anything, and being the sweetheart he appeared to be, he put your clothes back on for you and held you against him as you grounded yourself.

Eventually, you recovered from the intense first time you had with him and hugged him, “Thank you…”

He took a deep breath, “Are you going to call me when you make it back to campus?”

“Yes…” You smiled.

“And are you going to text me every single day until we see each other again?” He asked.

“I will.” You told him.

He kissed your cheek and helped you back into the front seat, driving you back to the hotel and walking you into the lobby.

As you stood in the lobby, you turned to face Heeseung, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. You didn't want this night to end, didn't want to say goodbye to him just yet.

Heeseung seemed to sense your hesitation, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close.

"It's not goodbye," he whispered. "It's just see you later."

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you for being here with me," he replied, his voice just as soft.

With one last kiss, he pulled away, and you watched as he walked out of the hotel, feeling a sense of sadness and longing in your heart.

But as you made your way back to your room, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special between you and Heeseung. And you couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　

taglist: @jungwo-nnie @voidbeomgyu

#enhypen smut #enhypen ff #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #heeseung ff

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r6shippingdelivery · 8 months

Text

Kiki's quick guide to rating and properly tagging works on AO3 (or anywhere, really).

Let's start with the rating system:

1. General Audiences. The PG territory, the kind of stories anyone of any age can read. Think of Disney movies, that sort of stuff.

2. Teen. Basically the same as before but a little edgier. Might contain swearing (but not excessive), talking about potentially upsetting themes, like death or substance abuse, for example, but still at a rather surface level overall. It can get steamy but sex scenes are a "fade to black" kind of deal with nothing shown about it.

3. Mature. With this rating you can go in depth for adult and/or troublesome issues, no shying away from it. The main difference with explicit is that the action/gory details aren't lovingly described, so to speak. Or if they are, it's usually a small scene and not the main focus of the story.

4. Explicit. The strictly 18+ area. Smut fics fall in this rating. Go on with as much detail as you want into how the characters fuck, or with the violence (yes, there are Explicit fics that aren't about sex). Basically, if you detail what goes in what hole and how it's throbbing, or describe the effects of torture or a beating, etc, you need this rating.

Now, for the main content warnings you'll find at AO3 and what they mean:

1. Graphic depictions of violence. If your story has a focus on fighting/battle, war, etc, it probably needs this warning if it's rated Mature or Explicit.

2. Major Character Death. Also called MCD, very (in)famous since it's quite divisive, people either love it or hate it. If one of the main characters in your story dies at any point, for the love of God, use this one, please.

3. Rape/non-con. Check if your story depicts or mentions non-consensual sex.

4. Underage. You'll need this warning if characters who are under the age of 18 engage in sexual activities of any kind.

5. Choose not to use archive warnings. This is Schrodinger's warning. It says the story may or may not contain some of the above stuff that you should warn for. Basically, read at your own risk. Some authors don't want to spoil future twists/content in their story and use this. It's NOT SAFE.

6. No archive warnings apply. This one declares the story won't have any of the aforementioned warnings (violence, rape, MCD, underage). If you use this you're declaring the story is safe regarding these warnings. It's incompatible with "choose not to use warnings", they are NOT the same!! And ofc using both at the same time just makes no sense.

#fanfiction #fandom etiquette #ao3 #ao3 tags #how do i tag this #ratings

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oliviasturniolo21 · 5 months

Text

Idk why but I really wanted to write a fic to this song so here.

I Need You To.

“If we were meant to be we would have been by now”

“See what you wanna see, but all I see is him right now”

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

Parings~ Matt + Y/n

Warnings~ Angst.

not proofread!!

Minors are welcome but read at your own risk! :)

3rd person pov

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

Y/n and Matt had known eachother since they were 12, her coming to boston for holiday, and running into who she had no clue, would be her best friend, Nick and Chris also coming as a pair. Y/n had recognized she liked matt when she was 15, now being 19, yet nothing ever came out of it. Her living close to the triplets now L.A. house, seeing them a lot more, made a then crush, now an obsession.

After getting the texts, Y/n got into a very comfy outfit, consisting of, Dark grey baggy sweatpants, a cotton tank top, white nike low rise socks, and Tasman Ugg Slippers. She grabbed her purse, and keys, before doing a final take in the mirror, she had in her mudroom, and headed out.

After arriving at the triplets house, she took out her spare key unlocking the door, and ofc when she entered, locking it again, heading up the stairs, to be greeted by Chris in the kitchen, accompanied by his hourly pepsi, and his phone.

“Heyyy”, “Oh, hey wsp”, “Idrk Matt just wanted to hang out” she says kinda chuckling, “oh ok, have fun, me and nick are abt to go to target with madi, if you want anything lmk.”, “I’m ok, thanks for the offer tho!” she saying walking over to the hallway to be greeted with matt’s closed door, as she opens it with a smile greeting her best friend, he looks kinda sad and nervous yet still smiling, “you ok?”, “oh, um, yea, you just kinda caught me off guard.”, “how, you literally invented me over?” “Yea ik, it’s nothing really” he says patting the spot next to him, on his bed.

She sits down next to him silently, looking at him, as he seems very nervous. “Matt are you sure you’re ok?”, “yea, but I do wanna talk to you about something” “Go on..”, he takes a deep breath, and a quick sigh before looking her in the eyes, “do you like me? Like in a more then friends way?”, Y/n, being very caught off guard, looks at Matt with her jaw so low, feeling like it could fall off at any second. “Oh um, why do you ask?” “Y/n, I just need to know, do you or do you not.” he starts to sound angry, now raising his tone. “jeez, um ig I do, yeah.” “Omg, she was right.” him now standing up clearly extremely upset, Y/n stays stunned, never seeing him like this before. “What, who was right?” “This girl i’ve been seeing, I was talking to her about you, and our FRIENDSHIP, and she said she thought you liked me, I STOOD UP FOR YOU, NOW SHE WONT TALK TO ME AND ITS YOUR FUCKING FAULT.”, “Matt, what? How is that my fault? I didn’t ask you to defend me” “You didn’t have to, Because that’s what real FRIENDS do, they stand up for each-other.” “so what, are you saying i’m not your real friend?” “NO BUT YOU ARE! I’ve never done anything to lead you on” he says now sitting down, “look, Y/n, I love you more then anything, but in a friendly way. Knowing you see more then that, well, I just can’t do that, You know I love you, and I always will, but I can’t see us as anything more then friends, so I think it may be better if we arnt anything at all.” “Matt please, I can change, I promise.”, “No, you can’t change who you like and yk that.” “So what are you saying?” “I think it’s better we end this all now, I think you should go.” “I really don’t want to”, “I need you to”

And with that Y/n stood up, giving matt one last sad look, before walking out of the room, leaving almost 8 years of friendship behind with her.

The end. Hope you guys liked it, as i’ve never wrote angst before. Please leave feedback, good or bad!!

Tags~ @freshlovehacker @sturniolopepsi @sturnioloskies @sturniolosluvv @sturnsclutter @sturnphilia @daddyslilchickenfingers @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @strniohoeee @sturnslove @soursturniolo 💋🥀 Lmk if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

My Masterlist.

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #liv_writes #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #oliviasturniolo21 #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #tumblr milestone #chris girl #madi filipowicz

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fablekitty · 9 months

Note

Hey, I know I am the last person you wanna talk to rn, but my life is in genuine danger (still) because all I wanted was for a apology for the misconception.

I honestly meant no harm at all, and https://www.tumblr.com/lunarsilly/725681668334256128/all-i-wanted-was-for-fable-alologize-for-the

If you read this it will make a lot more sense.

I’m low empathetic and it takes a while for me to feel epmathy, and I think it’s hitting me like a bus

I never meant for you to be harassed anything (as I said in my OG callout posts) and I have not ONCE put your life in danger.

However, Davis has put mine in danger cuz he took some things I said in the wrong manner and it has caused me to get harassed to the point where I have to deactivate most of my accounts.

No, this isn’t ‘karma’ at all because I didn’t even want anything bad to happen to you and I didn’t mean to be malicious, all I wanted was for people to be aware that you could have possibly done this stuff, and benne like

“Hey, I have a choice if I wanna continue supporting them.” And unfollow if they please.

I have not once tried to put you or anyone else in danger, all I was doing was being like “hey, this can be seen as sams since you tagged it as such.”

Also to call you out for your ableism towards your own community.

That whole ‘no TSBS fictives and no factives’ rule is not only ableist, but it further Demonizes DID by saying that alters are their source when they aren’t,

People had a choice to support you, and I hadn’t meant for it to become this huge thing because a mess up in my wording )which I mostly wrote them at 1-5am, mind you. There’s going to be some mistakes since I was obviously running on 2-4 hours of sleep, and I always apologized if I said anything wrong in Davis’s DMs)

I get why you’re upset but this whole thing has gotten me death threats and it has also put not only me, but my family at risk.

Anyways that’s pretty much it, dm me on this app if you wanna respond.

This whole situation began because instead of trying to talk things over with me, you instead chose to cast a stone at me publicly. I’m not unreasonable. I would gladly have clarified anything you were concerned about, whether it be the claims of ableism or concerns about Lulu’s design. Instead, you publicly accused me of being a pedophile, not once, but twice. Which. I won’t lie; is a VERY harsh accusation that shouldn’t have ever been tossed out on a whim. The first was in a comment thread on one of Davis' posts, the other was a public callout post. You cannot downplay it by saying you just wanted to 'spread awareness' and 'let people choose to support me.' All I wanted to do was be left alone, and you wouldn't have it.

You took my art and made fun of it, called me names, called my partner’s alter names, and tried to make connections to an accusation that wasn’t there to begin with. I have co-workers that follow my SFW account on Twitter. I could have lost my actual job over this. You losing your Twitter account is not comparative to my entire livelihood. You can say you never wanted me to be harassed, but you slandered and insulted me all over Twitter and Tiktok during the entire duration in which this all played out, not to mention all of the posts and videos about me being ableist and treating me like some sort of class traitor.

I only spoke out about it when I was at the end of my rope, which you also mocked and slandered, and thus the harassment continued.

Davis reached out to me about it because after doing his own research, he saw it as unfair that I was being falsely accused of something that could literally ruin my life and career and put my safety in danger.

I didn't ask him to post it, and I certainly wouldn't have asked him to take so much time out of his busy schedule to research and write that entire google doc. All of the accounts he posted there are public socials, all of which have the Lunarsilly moniker attached to them somehow. He's never really talked to me much if at all outside of this situation.

As for the comments made towards people who were clearly against you, entirely unnecessary. If you wanted people to stop and leave you alone then you should have never responded. This stirs the pot and makes more trouble, it also makes you look bad.

I can't convince people to stop attacking you, despite telling them not to come after you in my last tweet about this situation. I can't order Davis to remove your socials from the google doc. All we can simply do is drop the subject and move on.

None of this would have happened if you just came to me first instead of airing out dirty laundry into public places where you were fully aware I was in. Next time you think you've been wronged in some way, instead of acting out, take a step back and breathe. Walk away from the computer/phone and clear your head so you can think straight. That is my absolute best advice to you.

I understand that you're only 15 and probably have some stuff going on at home, and the last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt. Death threats and doxxing are wrong in general, let alone to a teenager, and if you're reading this and have done either of those things to Lunarsilly, I am incredibly ashamed of you.

As for the damage? My alter is traumatized by the claims you've made. My early design of Lunar was never canon. His design belongs to me and I can use it however I please. He is not canon show Lunar.

Speaking of Alters, I want to address the ableism thing.

Once again, all this stress could have been avoided if you’d have just come to me privately on Discord when this was first addressed. I asked you politely to please keep alters of real people from the show avoidant of fronting in the TSBS server. I asked this of you with the knowledge of what was written in the moderator handbook that each moderator must read and follow in TSBS, and had no idea it wasn’t written in the public rules. I will admit fault for not checking that. It was never my intention to come off as ableist towards you nor anyone else.

We didn’t just come up with rules on a whim. We put rules in place to try and keep everyone in the server safe and comfortable, systems and otherwise. Ultimately, the bottom line was that some of the voice actors from the show found discomfort in seeing alters of themselves and their characters in the server, and the business that owns the whole shebang also agreed, and their word is final.

I entirely understand the frustration behind having alters from the show. I have a few of them myself and so does my partner. Yes, they are not their source. But that doesn't prevent the original creators, or actual person from being uncomfortable, much like some alters are uncomfortable with doubles. Everyone's system is different. Mine isn't large. It's not small either, but my alters all do have one thing, a mutual agreement to work together and harmony. If that's something you can't control, then I'd recommend staying out of larger servers such as TSBS.

I was also never obligated to tell you that I'm a system. I don’t exactly go out of my way to make sure every individual who interacts with me is aware of this information about myself. However, if you ever took a moment to look in my discord profile, you would have known. The first line that is on my profile on Discord is “Marshmallow System-DID” and it’s been there this entire time.

All I want is to be left alone. I want this all to finally be dropped so we can move on with our lives. I’m old and tired and simply do not have the time or energy to keep putting towards this situation. Just please, move on and leave me be.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Note

You probably know this but there is a Lee ‘fan’ out there who spews hate and and bile over any fic they don’t like. They get particularly riled up when you do cheating or divorce tropes. They really hate it. They went on a spree on one of my Lee fics on ao3 with same type of language/attacks as your charming anon so it must be the same one. Wished i would die etc etc. I’ve seen similar comments across the Lee section on ao3. They religiously check for new Lee fics across ao3/tumblr etc yet hate so much. I know you wouldn’t let it get to you anyway but please know you’re not the only author to get the brunt of their abuse!! I don’t know why anyone would get so upset about a fictional character but hey…

What a sad existence. Yeah, ao3 tends to have those types. I had someone do the same thing on all my Bucky fics. It is what it is but the effort is solely on their part. They are wasting their own energy. I've always made a point of saying people are responsible for their own consumption and so if they can't take account for their autonomy, it's not my issue. Someone with so much hate probably only has the internet to spew it onto.

They can complain all they want but I put this at the top of all my fics:

My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

So I don't tag for everything. This is because sometimes for plot reasons and this is sometimes because I don't feel personally it requires a tag. It's similar to Author has chosen not to use warnings on ao3. People read that and if they continue, they consent to anything untagged they might happen by. Life is risk assessment, if you can't recognise through that statement that you may read something darker than you expect, then it's on the reader not me. Dead dove, do not eat.

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runicmagitek · 1 year

Text

2022 Writerly Year Review

tagged by @frozen-fountain (many thanks!!) not gonna tag anyone, but if you're a writer and are reading this and feel like giving this a go? Consider yourself tagged! 💖

Total number of completed works. Posted to AO3? 62 🙃 I guess it's technically 61, as What Leads You Here is still in progress, being a longfic and all.

Total number of WIPs worked on this year. Oh lord, hold please as I count all the drafts and partially done stuff in Scrivener.... 7 total. 8 if you include What Leads You Here, which fully drafted, but in the editing phase.

WIPs neglected this year. I honestly don't know djsaklfdjslkfjkldas I continue to neglect my one Celes/Terra fic I abandoned when 13 Sentinels hijacked my brain, so there's that 🙃 I promise I'll return to it one day.

Fandoms I've written in. 13 Sentinels, Critical Role, Final Fantasy (VI, VII, IX, and X), Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, My Dress-Up Darling, and Pyre

Total word count. Uh, posted to AO3? 287,882. Written? A little over 500k

Looking back, did you write more than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you expected? MORE. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY MORE.

Did you take any writing risks this year? There were a handful of fics that I banged out in a single day, quickly edited them, and slapped them onto AO3. Are they amazing works of literature? Hell no. Were they super fun to write? Hell yeah. I need to just… relax with editing more and let myself do this more often. I swear some of my better-received fics are when I go "you know what? fuck it" and release it into the world.

Do you have any goals for the new year? Not write as much lolsob. Also finish What Leads You Here along with a handful of WIPs. Maybe even revisit that Celes/Terra WIP if I have time/energy!

Biggest disappointment? Not so much in my own writing, but just lack of engagement with some of my fics. Then again, that's par for the course when you write A) not-so-popular characters, B) gen fic, and C) stories involving death and angsty bits. Also seeing my fluffy G fics doing better than my smutty fics in the 13 Sentinels fandom just… continues to baffle me to this day. It's LITERALLY the only fandom I've ever been in where smut does worse numbers-wise and I don't get it.

Biggest surprise? I wrote something for Critical Role!! I've been a longtime watcher and enjoy the show, but I've done my best to staaaaay away from the fandom 😰 plus I tend to wait until I finish something before I ever consider writing a fic for it, just so I can have the whole picture, so to speak. But one particular episode just set me off and I had to write something to hold me over until the next episode 😭

Most popular story of the year? Most hits/bookmarks? For the Ones That Feel It the Most

Most kudos/subscriptions? Sweet Dreams (why are people subscribing to a oneshot lolsob)

Most comments? What Leads You Here

Ahhh the power of posting fics near the release of a popular thing. And also longfics lol.

What's your own favorite story of the year? I feel like this changes on a daily basis lol I love all of them for different reasons. Lucid has a close place to my heart bc I was Very Upset to find close to no m!Byleth/Gatekeeper fics in an incredibly popular/active fandom. Also really love how Like You, Only Sweeter turned out, which was an incredibly self-indulgent story for me (I just wanted them to smooch)

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion. Nearly all of my 13 Sentinels fics bc the fandom is small and niche lolsob. But also Marinate, which granted, I posted the last week of 2022, but still.

Most fun story to write. What the Water Gave Me, which very quickly snowballed out of control into its own thing. I had a blast writing this mermaid AU and thinking of lore for this world!

Most unintentionally telling story. I'm not sure if this means like… a story that utilized more telling as opposed to showing or just… telling about me as an individual. Either way, I'm genuinely not sure? A lot of aspects of myself are sprinkled across my stories, but isn't any work of art?

My favorite part of fandom this year. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO PICK ONE?????? Meeting so many cool and incredibly talented people. Starting a Discord server with good friends. Applying (and getting accepted!) to a bunch of amazing zine projects. Participating in all the secret santa events and fic exchanges. Being late to a fandom and getting to experience things for the first time. Watching my friend react throughout their 13 Sentinels playthroughs. Collaborating with a lovely art friend to make our own damn zine. Getting to share my longfic with the small, yet vastly passionate community. And just… so so many more moments that made me smile and be forever grateful. If we've interacted at all, even for a brief moment, thank you for making 2022 a little brighter.

#runic rambles #my writing #meme thing

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theharrowing · 1 year

Note

"writing some of the darker themes is always going to evoke some negative feelings and invite controversy, but for those of us who find it cathartic, i think it can be very warm and healing."

wow lol what a playful way to say you like to write about rape, murder and abuse. please seek therapy.

friends, sorry i can’t post content warnings before messages, but you can see what this one deals with. my response doesn’t have such blatant language, but feel free to skip this post if it makes you uncomfortable.

hello, darling anon! thank you for taking the time to write such a concise, thoughtful message! it always brightens my day to hear from strangers online who clearly have no experience with my actual body of work, nor knowledge of who i am as a person, and who hide behind anonymity and self-righteousness.

funny you should assume that i have not sought therapy, but you may be surprised to find that those from whom i have turned to for counsel have told me the very opposite, and have had some pretty interesting, deep conversations with me about catharsis and nuance.

writing and reading about darker topics is cathartic to some, whether you like it or not. it's fine if you disagree, but you can literally just scroll on without complaining. it's actually free of cost to curate your space in a way that feels safe for you and only engage in content that you feel safe engaging with.

i am reminded of a really thoughtful twitter thread on this topic, and i will post some individual tweets from that thread here, with links to each tweet, starting with this graphic:

(image link)

You do not "own" trauma. Some random stranger is NOT "romanticizing (your) trauma" when they write about or draw fictional characters in a traumatic situation. In many cases, the person is writing about THEIR OWN trauma using fictional characters. It has nothing to do with you. (link)

You're gonna see triggering things online. That's how the internet works. It's like Russian Roulette. Even if you utilize mute and block features, sometimes things still slip through the cracks and you see triggering stuff anyway. It's a risk that comes with using the internet. (link)

So the fact that people are complaining about fanart and fanfic - THINGS THAT ARE USUALLY TAGGED - is infuriating to me. You see that the fanfic has triggering tropes in the tag? Don't read it. You see an art tag that upsets you? Mute the tag so you won't see it on your tl. (link)

The internet is not a true "safe space." There's no way to 100% safety proof the internet to your specific comforts. I'm not saying this to be cruel. I'm just being realistic and practical. You can't blame others because your personal trauma was triggered by a random thing online (link)

If you see triggering content online on accident, that sucks and I'm so sorry that you experienced that. But it is not anyone's fault. People are allowed to post (nearly) anything they want online (especially in fandom spaces when fictional characters are involved)- (link)

It's not your fault either, especially when you take precautions like using muted terms. It's just an accident and the nature of the internet. And getting angry and upset at random strangers isn't going to help anything. (link)

You're allowed to feel discomfort ofc. But this misplaced... entitlement? Anger at others for posting fictional content? That isn't it. That's not the way to deal with that. (link)

It's a waste of energy, first of all. Good luck trying to get people to stop posting things that upset you. It's a lost cause. No matter how much I dislike (certain tropes), this is the World Wide Web that billions of people have access to and people will post that thing anyway- (link)

So it's better to just - as best as you can - let it roll of your shoulders. It is literally impossible to stop people from posting the thing (especially in fandom) so instead, switch your energy to seeking out things that you know appeal to you and bring you good feelings. (link)

You see something triggering? You close the window, take a moment to yourself, start fresh and find something that is more appealing or healing to you. Feeling discomfort or being upset is fine. Trying to go on some crusade to stop it? It's just not practical, I'm sorry. (link)

Being angry about others posting certain fictional content is like being disgusted by seafood and going to a restaurant and getting angry and upset because the diner the table next to you ordered fish. You are at a place that can and does serve fish. (link)

It's not practical to get upset at them about it. You can be annoyed or irritated that now you had to smell fish during your dinner. But you can't be angry at the restaurant or the servers or the other person for doing what they are allowed to do in that space. (link)

Also - you can complain about it, I guess! My issue is y'all need to stop demonizing people who are into darker FICTIONAL themes and who tag their content. You can dislike their crap yeah but stop acting like they're literally Satan and stop blaming them and fiction for abuse. (link)

...i think that sums up, pretty well, my thoughts on the matter. and, again, if you disagree, that is perfectly within your rights. but accusing folks of romanticizing something awful (which is what your message felt like) is...silly. grow up. hide tags, mute words, block me! it's really so easy.

thanks for the message, sweetie! have a great night!

#not so lovely anon #fanfic discourse? i guess?#we can talk more about this is you want to #but as a survivor i might get defensive #you've got mail 💌

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hood-ex · 2 years

Note

Hey Emily can you and your writer-reader friends help us with this? It's a long story so sorry for that.

Me and a couple close friends found an author in a new fandom, we've been more or less chatting with her anonymously for a few months now and she's pretty nice we share a lot of brainrots as writer-readers ourselves. This author is kind of a niche writer so it's understandable that she really wants her fans to leave comments and be openly supportive, within this time she even had a depressive episode due to lack of engagement and fandom wankery. All understandable really. She came back a while ago and is back in great mood, and she dropped new fics too.

The problem is, the newest fic was sad and dark, the characters were bitter and the ending was ambiguous, tags and summary conveyed that, it was all intentional and her own friends have been hyping it up as sad bitter dark fic (not problematic dark, just dramatically angsty and bleak that fits canon tonally)

One of us has been going thru a very rough time themself, spiraled badly it seems, and I didn't learn about it until today. They read the fic, not their type of fic at all but I think they just wanted to feel something even if it was negative, judging by the comment. They're a big commenter and they left a long comment detailing all the stuff they liked, quotes, and that they really liked how the ending was not necessarily happy. This started the problem. Now the writer is constantly talking about how she hates sad endings, shading sad/ bittersweet endings, got her friends to post a lot of Happy content about those characters all of a sudden, talking to her other anons like she's venting about my friend's comment and my friend who had been avoiding social media happened to check in once, only to find all of that on their dash. They're now really upset at themself.

It's a messy situation and Idk how to help. I got to talk to my friend after days and this is what I see. They're regretting everything from commenting to ever "bothering" that author by chatting with her like It Is A Mess okay, and of course I'm worried about my friend but Idk how to handle the situation so the author doesn't get any flame or thinks we're attacking her? Our other friend is not as invested so he's okay with dropping the author altogether. Please advise us fanfic veterans we need it badly.

As long as your friend didn’t write anything rude/mean in their comment, I don’t see how they’ve done anything wrong in this situation. It sounds like the author is overreacting to a harmless comment.

At this point, it might be best to no longer engage with the author about this particular fic/topic if it’s going to cause distress to any of the parties involved. It might be better for you and your friend to put some space between y’all and the author for now. Maybe unfollow her until she’s done ranting about this topic. Eliminate the stressor from your lives, y’know? It doesn’t mean you can’t still read and enjoy her fics in the meantime.

I’ve personally reached out to people through chat when a problem has arisen (I wouldn’t try this approach anonymously via an Ask). I like this approach because you can be more direct without outsiders (followers) being in your business. However, I know this approach can be intimidating, especially when you’re trying to talk to a larger blog. Your friend also might not want to risk getting further backlash from the author which is understandable.

If your friend does decide to take the direct conversation approach then remind them not to come off aggressive or super defensive. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just a simple, “Hey, sorry for bothering you. I’ve seen you making some posts about so-and-so and I wanted to apologize if it was because of the comment I made on so-and-so fic. Just wanted to let you know I didn’t mean anything bad by it/didn’t mean to imply anything negatively about you/your fics.”

There's really not much else you can do about the situation. Just reassure your friend that they didn't do anything wrong/don't deserve the backlash and then try and wait for the author to move past the topic. It's up to y'all on whether y'all want to still engage with this author in the future.

Best of luck to you 🖤.

#this reminds me of the time my mutual made a post and i thought it was about something i had posted earlier #so i messaged them and was like ''hey so sorry for the post i made. i didn't mean to ruin blahblah for you.''#and they messaged me back like ''oh you're good. my post was actually about some other people'' alskdjalka #so sometimes you think people are talking about you but they're actually talking about someone completely different #it's nice to have it cleared up though so that you're not secretly stressing about it for days on end #anon

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omgrachwrites · 2 years

Text

You're My Home - Chapter One

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You’ve never felt like you belong, your parents certainly treat you like you don’t belong. Then the absolute impossible happens which leads you to a handsome, grieving boy, and you realise that home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, mentions of death

Words: 2191

Disclaimer: This is set a couple of years after tasm 2 but it may still have some nwh spoilers so read at your own risk, and this gif doesn't belong to me!

A/N: So, I think the other parts are gonna be a bit longer, this was just an intro really! I promise that Peter and Y/N are gonna properly meet in the next one! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think, let me know if you want to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist next part

Chapter One - The Writing in The Glass

You shivered as you walked down the street in the freezing cold, your manager at the shitty little restaurant that you’d been working in since graduation made you do an extra shift. As a result, you’d missed your bus and you hated getting the subway, you felt really unsafe when you did decide to get the subway. You couldn’t wait until your car was out of the shop, it had to go in for a service the other day. So, walking seemed the lesser of the two evils. You had to look on the bright side though, it had stopped raining about ten minutes ago.

A wave of cold water washed over you, making you gasp as you glared at the car which had just drenched you by driving through a lake sized puddle, “jerks!” you yelled after the car, knowing that it was futile. As you wrung the water out of your hair you sped up your pace, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

As you got to the porch of your house, you sighed as you spied your parents through the window, sitting in the living room. Your stomach filled with dread and it was almost laughable. What person would ever dread seeing their parents? If more people had parents like yours then you were sure that they’d understand. You reluctantly made your way up the porch steps and into the warm toasty house. You glanced at the fireplace in the living room, and sure enough it was blazing away.

“You’re late, Y/N,” you heard your dad say, and you rolled your eyes, you didn’t realise that you had a curfew at the age of 22.

“My manager made me do an extra shift and I missed my bus, you know that I begrudge getting the subway,” you replied, hovering in the doorway of the living room. Your little brother, Sam smiled at you, it felt like he was the only person in the world who loved you.

“We’re going for late dinner tonight,” your mom said without even looking up from her laptop.

You knew that ‘we’ meant her and your dad, so you grinned over at Sam, “want to get some pizza, squirt?”

Sam bit his lip and looked at your dad, “Sam’s coming with us, I trust that you can sort your own dinner out?” your dad sneered at you.

Even though you were used to your parents dismissing you like you were nothing, you still felt a stinging in your chest but you tried not to let it show on your face. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

“I think I can manage,” you scoffed before shaking your head and turning around and running up the stairs, taking two at the time, you wanted to get away from your parents as quickly as possible. You hated living here, you thought college was your ticket out of here but NYU was the only school who had accepted you and you couldn’t afford to move out. You had even had to take a GAP year after graduating from University so you could work in your spare time.

You were hoping to do a Master’s degree in Philadelphia so you could finally get away from your parents and out of New York. New York just wasn’t home. You threw your bag onto your bed as you walked into your en suite to start your shower. As the water was heating up, you sat on the edge of your bed, and looked at the framed photograph on your nightstand.

It was a photograph of you when you were a kid at the fairground with cotton candy all around your face, you only partly remembered that day but one thing you did remember was how happy you were. You’d gone to the fairground with your parents and your dad had bought you the biggest bag of cotton candy that you’d ever seen, even though he knew you’d get it all over your face. Your dad must have been a different person back then.

Another memory that was your favourite was when your dad gave you a nickname because you having a rough time in elementary school and the nickname made you feel like you were someone else, if only for a little while. The weird thing was that in both of those memories, you couldn’t remember your dad’s face, maybe you just couldn’t imagine him being a good father.

You took the photograph out of the frame and smiled as you turned it over and read the inscription, ‘to my MJ, love Dad xxx’ MJ was your nickname, though he never called you that anymore. With a sigh, you put the photograph down and walked into your bathroom, the mirror was all fogged up from the steam of your shower so you wrote on the glass.

‘I don’t belong here,’ you thought it would make you feel seeing it written out, it didn’t, really.

You spent so much time in the scalding hot shower, and it was only when you heard the front door slam closed that you got out, and wrapped a warm fluffy towel around your wet body. You screamed in surprise as you looked up at the mirror to find there was a message on the glass, a message that you certainly hadn’t written.

‘Um, hi? Is this like in Harry Potter where he writes in Tom Riddle’s diary and the diary writes back to him?”

You frowned, more curious than scared. What the hell was Harry Potter? And, how was someone writing on your bathroom mirror? This had to be some impossible joke, this was impossible. In a weird sort of trance, you rubbed out the message and wrote on a fogged part of the glass.

“What in the world is Harry Potter?” a moment later you watched in disbelief as you watched the writing go across the mirror.

“You’ve never heard of Harry Potter? That’s sad :( it’s the series where a kid finds out he’s a wizard and he goes to a magic school, does it not ring a bell?”

You laughed at the reply as you wracked your brain, you were very sure that you had never heard of Harry Potter, “nope, I’ve never heard of it! Hey, you’re not a ghost, are you? I mean I can see your replies being written across my mirror so the most logical explanation is that you’re a ghost.”

You eagerly awaited the reply, your mood had improved drastically in the past couple of minutes. The reply was taking a little longer, it seemed that this stranger was taking their time curating their response, “I am not a ghost, thank you very much!! My name is Peter! Maybe you’re the ghost, after all, you did write the first message!”

You laughed as you dragged a comb through your wet hair, the person you were speaking to – if there was anybody even there – was a boy, “I’m not a ghost either! I’m Y/N, how old are you?”

“Y/N? That’s a real pretty name, I’m 22. How old are you?”

Your cheeks heated up at the compliment but you refused to acknowledge it, “me too.”

Later on that evening, you made yourself some dinner and put on a shitty horror movie, all the while thinking about Peter, it was impossible to be conversing with someone through a mirror. Maybe, maybe you had finally cracked, were you so lonely that you had imagined the whole thing? Was Peter merely a figment of your imagination.

That night you were having a hard time falling asleep so once again, you walked into your bathroom, breathed on your mirror to fog it up and wrote a message to Peter, “Peter? Are you awake?”

About half an hour later, a message was scrawled back across your mirror, “yeah, Y/N. What’s up?”

You bit your lip, if somebody was impossibly on the other side of the mirror, you didn’t want to overload all your feelings and insecurities but you had to tell someone, “nothing, it’s just I’m sorry about before with my whole ‘woe is me’ act, my parents are complete assholes,” calling them assholes was putting it lightly but you didn’t want to go into full detail.

“Don’t even worry about it Y/N! I’m sorry that they’re being assholes, that shouldn’t be their job. Look, I know that this is completely crazy and I don’t even know if you’re there, I could be talking to myself but if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m just a message away.”

You smiled, you wanted Peter to be real, “thanks, Peter. I just can’t wait to get out of here,” you sighed and sat back, now that you thought about it, you could run away without a trace, all you had to do was wait until your car was out of the garage and you had to wait about a month and a half before your parents left the country to go on holiday. But, you could run away, you had to run away.

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

May Parker looked up in surprise as her nephew walked through the door, Peter smiled at her as he walked over to the fridge to grab a soda. Aunt May narrowed her eyes at him, confusion etched on her face.

“What?” Peter asked as he ran a hand through his hair.

Aunt May shrugged before she turned back round to the stove, “I wasn’t expecting you for dinner tonight. I thought you had a date.”

Peter sighed, the guilt curling in his stomach like a monster, “I thought that I was ready to date but I’m not, flirting is all well and good but I’m not ready for something real,” the memory of losing Gwen still killed him, knowing that he hadn’t been strong enough to save her was the worst kind of torment.

Aunt May nodded understandingly as she kissed his forehead and brushed his hair back, Peter was very grateful that she knew what he was going through and she knew exactly how he felt, “take your time, you loved Gwen so much, there’s no rush to move on, sweetheart,” she smiled, “meatloaf okay for dinner?”

Peter nodded with a smile, “yeah, sure,” at least it wasn’t spaghetti again. He made his way up the stairs and threw his bag on his bed with a sigh. Peter wanted to speak to her, he wanted to speak to Y/N like he had done for the past month. He wanted to know whether she was real or not, she was his friend. But, there was no way to see her.

Peter walked into the bathroom, fogged up the glass so he could write to her, “you there, Y/N?” as he awaited her reply, he decided to get changed into his comfy clothes, wincing as he brushed against a bruise on his body. He’d received multiple cuts and bruises, along with a gun shot from a crazy guy called ‘Kraven the Hunter.’ Just when he thought super villains couldn’t get any crazier, they always seemed to surpass themselves.

A couple of hours later, Y/N replied, “hey, Pete! I’m so sorry, I had to work overtime if I want to move out of my parent’s place!”

Peter smiled as he rubbed out the message and wrote back, “no worries! You really work long hours at this restaurant. Where is it? I want to come and see you, if that’s okay?” he bit his lip, hoping he wasn’t being too forward.

“I’d love that, Peter! I work in the newish French restaurant and bar just across from the park by the library.”

Peter frowned, there wasn’t a library across the park and there certainly wasn’t a French restaurant, “Y/N… there isn’t a French restaurant there, aren’t they just those fancy apartments.”

Y/N’s reply came back quickly, scrawled messily across the mirror, “uh, yeah there definitely is! I’ve been working there for over a year, Peter.”

Peter frowned, he’d have to go and have another look, he’d lived in the city for the whole of his life so he was sure he’d notice if a French restaurant popped up right where the fancy apartments were.

“Tell me about your day, Peter?”

“Well, I was meant to go out on a date this evening but I had to cancel at the last minute,” he paused in his writing, this wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated telling Y/N about what had happened to Gwen, but he just couldn’t, “I sent some more photographs to The Daily Bugle, the same old stuff really,” he was leaving out the bit where he stopped a bank robbery but he couldn’t ever tell anyone that he was Spider-Man. People got hurt when they knew, Gwen had been proof of that.

Before Y/N could write a reply, Aunt May shouted up, “Peter, sweetheart! Dinner’s ready!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I have to go, I’ll talk to you later!”

As he was leaving the bathroom, he glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the reply that he saw across his mirror, “speak to you later, Peter! Xoxo’

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

@idli-dosa @lizzieann143

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 3 years

Text

His Asset - Part 2

Summary: Having a Super Soldier who’s constantly on edge isn’t good for the business, even Hydra knows that. To aid his needs and to let the Soldat blow off some steam he is given a personal toy to fiddle with as he pleases. You.

Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: This Is Part Of A Pitch Black Series So 18+!, Reader Having Very Dark Thoughts, Force-Feeding, Violence, Humiliation, Kidnapping, My Everlasting Metal Arm Kink, Derogatory Petnames , Guns

Word Count: 1.4k

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR! DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF ANY OF THAT UPSETS YOU! CONTENT WARNINGS ARE THERE FOR A REASON!

A/N: Another entry for @writing-in-the-dark-bingo ticking my box for : Humiliation and gun play (if you squint)

Also, I never thought this would get a second part let alone end into a series, but here I am 🙆🏻‍♀️

You can read Part 1 here!

Feel free to check my Masterlist!🌸💕

Tagging: @wayward-blonde @labella420 @demotalias @omgkatinka

You lay on your back. The dirt from underneath rubbing into your sore skin. Your eyes were trained on the roof above you or at least you thought so as the well known darkness engulfed you again. With a faint smile you retraced your chest heaving in growing exhaustion. You knew that life was slowly but steadily draining out of your body and that’s exactly what you aimed for. The food - if you could even call it that - that was brought to you stood untouched somewhere near the door accompanied by unopened bottles of water.

After the Soldiers last visit you were certain to rather die from your own hand in this godforsaken prison than to be touched by this monster one more time. Letting yourself waste away like this was a painful process for sure, but not even nearly as gruesome as his steady, merciless and inhumane assaults. After long hours, that certainly stretched into days by now, of just lying there you grew cynical to the point of finding a crude sense of salvation in all of this. You dared to work for Hydra, well aware of the possible risks, but blinded by a hefty paycheck, you fucked up, paid for it, but you’d rather put yourself out of your misery than to grant Hydra your last breath.

To your advantage the guards didn’t really check up on you, just tossing you a plate of food every now and then and it’s been some time since the familiar smell of sweat and dried blood mixed itself with the moldy damp air around you. It seemed like he was on a longer mission this time.

“What a shame..” you chuckled, the words leaving your dry and sore throat in a brittle tone.

It didn’t really make any difference, but after some heavy breaths you allowed yourself to close your tired eyes and hoped for sleep to take you soon. If you were lucky, it would last eternally.

**************

Not only once would Hydra let you out of its chokehold, never in a million years would it just let one of its tools slip past its demands, expectations and plans. You didn’t know how long you passed out as you snapped from the floor, a bucket of ice water being emptied over your body before a cold steel barrel was pressed against your temple. Everything happened so fast that you couldn’t even barely grasp what was happening around and with you. In a startled motion you simply gasped for much needed air while your senses were forcefully ripped from their slumber.

The freezing cold water was soaking your dirty, greasy hair, cascaded over your face and dripped down over your shoulders as a violent shiver rippled through your terribly aching muscles. Having to move so abruptly was too much for your malnourished and dehydrated body and you wanted to wince out in pain, but the sudden shock stifled every sound that could’ve fallen from your trembling lips.

“What’s all of this mess here?” A deep, male voice asked you sternly.

Ah, it slowly dawned on you, this certainly wasn’t any form of afterlife, but still the same living hell you wanted to escape to badly.

Thoroughly irritated, you wiped your eyes with weak fingers and blinked through wet lashes at the Assassins face right in front of yours. For a split second the stinging kind of fear you had grown accustomed to thundered through your insides or much rather tried to, but you were too done with this hellhole for it to settle within.

“What?” You croaked, gradually taking notice of the gun that was still held against your forehead.

In any normal circumstance it should’ve bothered you, made you squirm in fear and beg for it to be put away, clinging to your survival instincts, but that part of you was long gone. Instead, you looked up to it, even admired the steel reflecting the light. This thing that got pressed against your damp skin could make it all oh so quick, could end your suffering with the pull of the trigger, finally free you from your prison if you just got the man facing you infuriated enough.

“Why are you not eating, pet?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Well, guess what…”, You mumbled, your gaze wandering from the gun back to his cold, blue eyes “Because I don’t want to.”

A barely even there flicker of confusion led the Soldats' brows to furrow ever so slightly before the expression on his face faded as fast as it had appeared. He certainly wasn’t used to you talking back like that, maybe already thinking that he broke you successfully. Admittedly, he had ripped parts of you into nothingness, cracked your bones, tormented your skin, but he surely didn’t anticipate you choosing this as your way out, thus he found himself indeed confronted with a twinge of confusion.

“Eat.”

“No.”

“I want you to eat, now!” His voice rapidly turned erratic.

You shrugged your shoulders and repeated: “No.”

A menacing growl rumbled through the Assassins chest as he turned towards the many untouched plates that were scattered across the concrete floor. Some of their contents were already getting stale if not spoiled.

“You don’t want to make me do this, toy.”

Without saying anything more you just closed your eyes, ready to let it all end here and now, but instead the barrel got removed. His holster klicked as he secured the gun behind his back.

“Wait.” It spilled from your lips as your eyes shot back open and you followed the man swiftly strutting away from you. Immediately you wanted to take it back, because there was this very audible tint of desperation, the sound of failure oozing from this one word.

Not withholding a wide and disgustingly triumphant grin the Soldat paused in his steps and turned back towards you, tilting his head a little to the side for his messy brown hair to fall into his face.

“You didn’t really think I would shoot my favourite toy, did you?”

Your eyes widened in response and your mouth dropped agape as he cracked his neck and bent down to take one of the meal plates alongside a plastic bottle of water.

“If you don’t want to eat, pet, I will make you.”

“No...no, no..hold on!” You rambled, a sudden wave of agitation taking a hold on you while you tried to shuffle backwards, but the palms of your hands were so limp that they simply scratched over the floor, not taking you any further away from him.

******

The taste of stale bread spread over your tongue. You wanted to spit it out but you couldn’t as two steel fingers were pushing the food forcefully down your throat.

“Swallow!” He demanded, clutching your chin with the other hand.

You gagged as you shook your head.

“Pet, swallow!” The Soldat shoved his fingers even deeper.

As a response you only gagged more until he removed the metal and moved your jaw in a chewing motion instead. Teeth clashing into each other, that’s what resonated in your ears as he simulated a chewing movement.

“Good girl!” He praised with a sardonic smile, closely listening to the squelching sound.

You felt the bread breaking down within your mouth, tasted the cheap flour, felt your saliva mixing with the components and yet your malnourished body clung onto it, craved to swallow just any kind of nutrients to feed your aching muscles and to put your overworked synapses at ease.

As white hot tears were emerging from your eyes you finally gave in and swallowed the soaked lump of dough resting in your mouth. You were so starved that even this faint hint of something tasted like heaven.

“Does that feel good?” The Soldat mocked, holding another piece of bread right in front of you.

You nodded, literally craving for more.

“Then open up, whore.” He demanded, as he twisted the bread between his fingers.

A shameful flush of red flooded your cheeks as you parted your lips.

“Stick your tongue out. Show me how much you want it.” He huffed.

A part of you wanted to resist, wanted to remain adamant, but your physical hunger towered over them and so you followed his command, sticking your tongue out.

“Oh look! What a good pet you can be.”, reluctantly the Soldat placed your treat upon your tongue “Don’t you ever dare to do that again.”

You chewed at the fresh piece of bread not really minding his comment and also not really bothered by the meaning behind it.

#dark!winter soldier #dark!bucky barnes #dark!fic #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #bucky barbes #sebastian stan #seb stan #james buchanan barnes #sexy seabass #the winter solider x reader #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #tw dark fic #dark!fanfiction #dark!bucky smut #metal arm kink

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cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

Daily Life - Scaramouche

Ahhh ye I loved writing those. For anyone who hasn’t seen them I’m linking the posts from when I did this theme with Kaeya and Diluc as well as the one with Zhongli, Xiao, and Childe

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

He's... not much of a morning person. He's actually pretty quiet in the mornings, he's still groggy and having to wake up and all that. So he doesn't say much, just kinda nudges you. Do NOT make him do it twice, though, no doing the thing where you groan and roll over or beg for more time. He'll just yank the covers off of you.

That's if *he* wakes up first, though, which is... unlikely. It's more likely you will find yourself in the reverse situation -- telling this grown ass man that yes you have to get up. Yes you have to go to work. You're going to be late. Come on. Get up. I'll make you food if you do. Please. It... takes a while. He’s actually late quite a bit due to his tendency to wait until the last possible minute and drag his feet. Not that anyone ever has to audacity to actually confront him about it. It can almost be kinda... cute? In a weird way. Just don’t actually say that out loud.

But still, it's rather surprisingly quiet. Yeah, sure, he could get food from his work, there's certainly a sort of eating area where they provide food for the masses of the underlings, but it's gross so, eating here it is. He used to do that before. Not that he would actually, god forbid, sit around and mingle with anyone, but he used to take it and go munch on whatever was provided, by himself. Just because it was easier and the man has probably never cooked anything in his life, doesn't know how to, but you do right? Well, if you don't, figure it out. Now that he has you he shouldn't have to go out of his way to get fed, you can do that, make yourself useful.

He has the same thing going on as mentioned in the daily life post for Xiao where he just kinda... creepily watches you go about your morning. Except not from the other side of the room, no, he just follows you around. The days actually have an awkward start because you don't want to be the first one to speak and risk making him grumpy, so you just kinda wait for him to talk. It's never a "good morning," he just jumps straight into telling you what the day is going to look like plan-wise, or complaining about this or that. But he will stand kinda right beside you the entire time, if you're making food he just stands there and leans against the counter and talks to you. If you're getting ready and have to go get this or that he'll follow you into each room and keep talking. Boy is clingy.

You could look at it as a blessing or a curse that the man takes you everywhere he goes. You don't get locked up and chained to a bed with nothing to do, but you also... have to deal with him pretty much every waking moment. If you've proven yourself annoying when not given things to do, you get things to do, simple measures to keep your attention consumed and not bothering him. Books and pencils and paper and whatever. But if he has a task to be done, it's your job, will call out the occasional go put this over there or go get that and bring it here. Why should he stand up and do it himself when you can? And it's in your best interest to do it immediately and quickly.

If it's a mission sort of day, going from place to place, he just drags you along wherever he goes. Expects you to just stand there quietly and not interrupt while he's talking to important people. If there's like, actual physical combat... well, if combat is expected, it's one of a few times you'll get left under the care of someone else (value and cherish these precious moments), and if it's unexpected hostility from someone, well, you know the drill -- go run away a hundred yards or so and stay behind something until it's over. And don't you dare think of using the opportunity to do something stupid or run. You tried a few times in the past... it didn't go over well.

The two things you get a lot of throughout the day is complaining and fucking. The first is usually after interactions -- some subordinate that has to come up to him to talk to him, some connection he's forced to converse with for the sake of a mission -- either way, he gets grumbly as soon as they're out of earshot. Honestly it's not hard to deal with, just kinda agree with everything he says, give a nod and smile and say he's right. You don't even really have to listen to what he's saying. As for the latter, fucking follows a predictable pattern, you can pretty much accurately estimate that you're about to get bent or pushed to your knees at specific times -- namely, whenever he's particularly stressed or nervous about something, when someone beneath him fucks something up or upsets him in any way, or when you specifically do something to upset him, be it intentional or unintentional. Lots of quick rough fucks throughout any given day, really.

Now, there are a very very very few days where you genuinely can't tag along, this is pretty much for your own safety and to prevent him from being distracted by concern for said safety. This is only when there is a planned conflict with formidable enemies. It's one of very few times you'll ever be left alone. Not under the care of any one person, but likely two or three personally appointed guards that he knows well enough to trust. During this time, they are given the instruction to keep an eye on you while you're given your normal idle task options like reading. It's not very eventful, and there's not really any opportunities for escape, it's just boring.

Unlike a lot of the other yans, you don't get a "honey I'm home now listen to me rant about my day" sort of deal, because you've been with him all day and heard him complain throughout. That doesn't mean the complaints don't continue, but he gets quieter once settled in for the evening. It's also the softest time you'll get -- at that point he's tired from whatever events occur throughout the day and has less energy to be irritated.

He never really verbally insisted on it, but the habit of bathing together just kinda naturally formed from the first few days when he had to drag you back and forth to follow a normal living routine. It's very very quiet. You never asked him to, but he just automatically does everything for you, scrubs at your body and hair before you get the chance. It's... not very gentle, but he's not intentionally trying to be rough or anything. Nor is it intended as a gesture of kindness or anything, you're pretty sure he just kinda started doing it since you were stubborn and refused to move a muscle when you first came here, and now does so on autopilot, without really thinking about it. You've decided to not bring it up. It's nice enough.

He's actually kinda particular about his sleep. He can stay up late if needed, but prefers to go to bed more or less soon after, and no, you can't stay up on your own, if he's going to sleep so are you whether you like it or not. He doesn't fall asleep immediately, just kinda lays a while and stares off in thought. As long as he knows you're awake, he's not gonna make any movements to touch you or anything. If you pretend to be asleep though... you might get somewhat cuddled. And if you decide to move to lay on him on your own or nuzzle up to him, he's not going to fight it. Will probably be surprised and embarrassed, but will lay there and allow it, maybe gently pat your head.

#lena's asks #scheduled post #atml

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

All I Have To Give

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,096 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy kink, Dom/sub, Collar & leash, Oral sex, Deep throating, Restraints, Fingering, Cockwarming, Spanking, Unprotected sex, Come marking, Subspace, Subdrop, Aftercare Summary: A difficult case brings complex emotions, and Aaron is willing to do anything to help the woman he loves process them. *Prompted by @ssamorganhotchner and @angelhotchner and this Link to AO3 or read below! Even after all of his time at the BAU, Aaron knows he hasn’t seen it all, or even close to it—it seems like the atrocities just get worse every year, that humans never fail to find a new way to hurt one another, and that makes him and everyone else on the team constantly question everything they know. He’d like to say it gets easier, but it really doesn’t; you just find new ways to lean on your partners, new ways to cope with the horrors and indecencies the world has to offer.

The case they are currently working on is hitting one profiler especially hard, and because Aaron happens to be in love with her, it’s hitting him hard as well.

“I just can’t imagine waking up one morning and thinking you have your whole life ahead of you, and then some asshole decides he likes the way you look and wants to turn you into his property,” she murmurs that night when they are laying together in the hotel room they share. She had been so strong all day, as always, and then all but collapsed into tears the second the door was closed behind them. “It’s disgusting.”

“I know, baby; cases like these are some of the worst.” He rubs her back with strong hands, pulls her close to his chest. “What can I do for you? I hate to see you like this.” She sniffles, brushes a hand over her eyes, shakes her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything right now. Just being here with me like this, and talking to me, it’s helping. Thank you.” He sighs, because he knows when she gets this upset just talking it out isn’t usually enough, but he has to follow her lead; he just leans in to press his lips to hers, gentle and sweet, and she curls her fingers into his t-shirt and falls asleep with her head against his chest.

The next day, they apprehend the unsub after a standoff; unfortunately, he’d killed the girls when he heard on the police scanner that law enforcement was approaching—all twelve of them. She is the one to find them, and she gets sick, a first in her five years at the BAU. Aaron goes to her side, brings some water for her; her eyes are haunted when she looks up at him.

“Branded,” she croaks, and he doesn’t understand at first, until he looks more closely at the pile of bodies and sees the marks seared into their hips: DM—the unsub’s initials. He exhales deeply, and she turns around and gets sick again.

They take him back to the precinct, try to get a DNA sample, but he won’t agree until his lawyer is present; his story is that his property has been unoccupied for some time, and that he had no idea the girls were being held there, or by whom.

Aaron knows he shouldn’t let her interrogate him. He knows that, but she pleads, and that is something he’s always been unable to resist.

“Branding, huh? Are you that insecure—that worried that the women you called your property wanted nothing to do with you?” she asks, standing with her arms crossed.

“Do you mean my herd? I didn’t just call them my property, honey. They were my property. I owned them. The brands are for everyone else, not for me.” She slams her hands down on the table, sweeps them over the photos she’d laid out in front of him, and they go fluttering to the ground. He can’t see her face, but he knows from her tone that her jaw is clenched, her eyes ablaze.

“You did not own them. Ownership is granted, not taken, you pathetic excuse for a man.” He flexes his hands against the cuffs fixed to the table but says nothing. “You are so powerless that this is the only way you can get it up, isn’t it? By stealing women from their families, their lives, and pretending they’re yours.”

“They are mine!” he shouts, but then he takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “I took… the herd, from their meaningless, mundane lives, I brought them home, I gave them purpose. Being my property gave them value they didn’t have before.”

“And then you killed them, so what’s the value now? How dumb do you look?” She gets right up in his face, and hateful, misogynistic poison glints in his eyes, shows through the calm facade he tries so desperately to project. “It’s like burning your own house down, isn’t it? Only there’s no insurance money to collect here, Darren. All that’s left is your stupid ass and a pile of bodies with your fucking name on them.”

“Don’t call me stupid,” he mutters, and she drums her fingers on the tabletop, almost thoughtfully.

“What would you call it? Risking everything to abduct twelve women only to turn around and kill them so they can’t tell us what a pitiful human being you are?” She leans in closer, and he turns his neck to face away from her, like he’s trying to ignore her. “But the thing is, I don’t need them to tell me,” she whispers. “I know you were a disappointment to your father, a disgrace to your mother. I know the disgusting, depraved things you did to your sister, and now the whole world’s going to know. I’m going to tell everyone.”

Aaron can see the change in him from where he stands on the other side of the glass, and he glances at Morgan, then makes for the door. He’s just gotten it open when the man pulls back and spits on her cheek; she freezes, then reaches up, wipes it off, calm and collected, and grabs his jaw with the hand not covered in saliva.

“Guess what, Darren? You’re my property, now. Your ass belongs to the US Government, and I’m going to personally ensure you never see the light of day again.” She holds her hand up—covered in DNA evidence—and walks past Aaron, out the door. She is unusually quiet on the flight back to DC despite the successful interrogation, pensive and solitary; even on the ride from the airport back home she just leans toward him, silent, hand resting on his thigh, her eyes unfocused.

He knows how hard this case hit her, can only hope that she will open up to him when they get home so he can give her what she needs to get through it. He will do anything, just needs to hear it from her.

“Why don’t we take a bath?” he says softly when they get home, dropping their bags in the laundry room, and he brushes a hand over her cheek. “We can soak the day away, and then maybe if you’re feeling better we can talk about what I can do to help.”

She looks up at him, nods, and they rid each other of their clothes and he draws them a bath, hot and foamy with calming aromatherapy oils she enjoys. She lays along his body, curled up, head on his chest, and he holds her close, massages the back of her neck and her shoulders with gentle fingers.

When they get out and dry off, she heads for her closet, returns with a box as tall as a thick book, a little less wide; she sets it on the bed, perches next to it, and looks up at him with expectant eyes.

“What’s this, baby?” he asks, approaching, and he kneels down, puts his arm around her and sets a hand on the box. “Is it for me?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s for you to put on me. I bought it a few weeks ago, but I… I need it now.” He lifts the lid, pulls out what he thinks at first is a wrist cuff but is actually a thick leather collar, with two metal rings attached to the front, and a… a leash. It’s made of metal chain, not long, with a leather loop to hold, and to say he’s caught off guard by this gift would be an understatement.

“You want me to put this on you? Can I ask why?” She moves toward him, puts her hands on the collar too, looks up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“Because I’m not my own person. You own me.” She tilts her neck, bares it, clearly waiting for him to put it on her, but what she’s saying doesn’t sit right with him, too many parallels to the case that made her so physically and mentally unwell.

“Baby, you are your own person. I love you for exactly who you are, and I would never try to own you, to take who you are away from you.” He presses his palm to her cheek, and she leans into it, kisses it with soft, gentle lips.

“It’s not you taking, daddy, it’s me giving. I need to give this to you—it’s the most important thing I have, and I need you to let me give this to you.” He exhales deeply, still not sold on the idea; she may think she wants this in the moment, feeling low as she is, but, what if she changes her mind? What if she no longer trusts his judgement because he plays into this when she’s not at her most clear-headed?

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into her eyes, checking them for hesitation, but she only nods; he moves his hand from her cheek, gently pulls the collar out of her grip and brings it to her throat, buckles it at the nape of her neck. She sighs, something like relief when he leans back; she wets her lips, and her eyes are heavy.

“You own me, daddy. I’m yours, see?” She tilts her neck again, but all he sees is that it’s tight against her skin, maybe uncomfortably so. He frowns.

“Is it too tight? It looks too tight. I think we should take it off; maybe we can try again another night, when you didn’t have such a hard day.” He moves his hands to the back of her neck, wants to unbuckle it, but she gets upset almost instantly, looking down at her empty hands like they’re causing her pain. He covers them with his own, shushes her softly. “Oh, what is it, sweet girl? Daddy’s right here, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted to please you, daddy. Your name is on me, and I thought you would like it, but if you don’t want me this way…” That makes him pause, and he brings her hands to his lips, kisses them.

“What do you mean, my name is on you? What does that mean, baby?” She pulls her hand out of his, moves her hair out of the way, and then he sees it: his initials, AH, embossed on the collar in silver script.

God, it’s no wonder she had such a visceral reaction to the branding. And it’s no wonder she is stressing wanting to give this to him, when the other women had their choices taken from them. She has a choice, and she’s making it, and all he has to do is accept the gift she’s trying so hard to give to him.

“Please, daddy. I need to give this to you,” she murmurs, further solidifying what he now knows, and he wraps the chain around his hand, pulls it tight, tugs her close for a kiss.

The easy way the tension leaves her body at the possessive gesture makes him groan, and he kisses her so long and hard that—between the kissing and the collar—she is already in subspace when he pulls back to let them catch their breath.

“You’re mine, baby girl; my name is on you. I own you.” She pants, nods, puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes, so grateful, beautiful.

“Yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy. I’m yours so tell me what to do and I’ll do it, anything. Please.” He kisses her again, then climbs onto the bed, loosens his grip on the chain a bit and pulls her with him as he lays back against the pillows. Her gaze is warm, brilliant, and he guides her to kneel between his legs, drops the leash and takes the black hair tie off of her wrist to sweep her hair back into a ponytail. It’s by no means perfect, but she likes when he does it, knows what it means; she’s already staring at his cock, and he’s willing to bet her mouth is watering in anticipation.

“I want you to suck for me, sweet girl. Owned girl.” Her eyelashes flutter and she wets her lips, nods enthusiastically. She wraps one hand around his cock, presses the other against his thigh, and he picks up the chain again, tightens it as she drops to cover him with her mouth.

She starts with short, wet, slow strokes, looking up at him through her pretty lashes, and he’s reduced to just his love for her and his need to come, as always when she does this for him. He moans softly, reaches down a hand to squeeze her breast, to give her some contact and pleasure, and she whines, moves a little faster.

He wasn’t planning to come this way, but he can think of plenty of ways to keep her occupied and feeling good while he recovers, so he wraps the chain around his hand one more time, guides her down, so she’ll take him deeper. She can do it, has been trained at her own request, because almost nothing makes her wetter than having her mouth full of his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for daddy. Can I come down your throat, baby? Can you take it?” She nods, bobs, and he yanks the chain just to see what she will do.

It turns her into a bit of a feral little monster, humping her hips against nothing, digging her nails into his thigh, doubling down on her efforts to make him come, and he just tips his head back and enjoys it, pinches her nipple between his fingers.

“Yes, sweet girl. So close. Keep moving your hips, baby; horny, desperate girl. Daddy will let you come soon, just keep going.” Perfect woman that she is, she hums around him, takes him deeper yet; the chain is wound so far around his hand he thinks absently that he may as well just hold onto her collar, and when he hooks his finger around the metal ring she looks up at him and moans.

He comes holding onto that ring, and when she is finished swallowing for him he pulls her up by it, kisses her passionately, gratefully, and whispers praise against her lips; she is soaking wet, he can feel it where she is sprawled on his stomach, so he guides her to lay back on the bed and leans in for a couple more kisses.

“That was perfect, my sweet, owned girl. Did you like that?” He holds the chain loose and rubs two fingers over her clit, and she bucks up, nods her head.

“Yes, owner daddy. I love when you let me take you that far. It makes me achy,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs apart, very wide, presses a finger inside.

“I know, baby. I can feel how soft and wet you are for daddy. I want you to come on my fingers next, okay?”

“Yes, please, I want to. Want to come on them hard for you.” He leans in for a sweet, soft kiss, slides his finger out of her, then takes her hands and brings them together under her chin, wraps the chain around her wrists so they’re loosely bound, holding the handle in his fist. She moans like he’s destroying her, though he’s barely touched her, but when he slips two fingers inside her she just gasps softly and throws her head back, her stomach tensing.

“Such a pretty girl for me. I’m so lucky you’re all mine.” He is calm—or at least, he’s projecting calm—where she is keyed up, eager, desperate, and he always loves it like this, loves to see how much he can tease her, how long she will hold out until she’s begging for him to fuck her with his hand. “Can you stay still for me? I wonder how long you can stay still for me, sweet girl.”

“Mmm, daddy.” Her chest is heaving as he thrusts his fingers slowly in, then out, then rubs them up her pussy, between her lips, and then thrusts them back in. It’s got to be torture for her, but she just breathes. “I can stay still, daddy. I can do whatever you ask.”

He closes his eyes briefly, collects himself so he doesn’t let all that power go to his head, and pushes his fingers into her a bit faster just to watch her struggle to behave.

“Does that feel good, daddy’s girl?” She bites her lip and nods, offers him a strained god, yes, so he adds another finger; the fact that she can speak at all means she’s far too coherent for his liking. He leans up for a kiss, brushes his nose over her throat, along the edge of the collar, right where his initials are, and she lifts her hips but stops herself, whimpers. “Oh, baby, what is it? Are you needy?” he whispers in her ear.

“Needy, please daddy,” she pleads softly, her eyes focused on him when he pulls back to look at her face, but also a little far away at the same time. “Please, please, I need to come. I need to come, I’m achy.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ll make you come, sweet girl.” He presses their mouths together a couple times, losing his composure a little as she loses hers, and then he moves down between her open legs and rubs his tongue over her clit while pounding his fingers inside.

She is unable to resist moving her hips as she gets closer to climax, and he pulls away, pausing to look up into her eyes again. They’re very hazy now, and she’s whining high in her throat at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“If you don’t stay still, daddy will have to spank you, baby girl. Do you understand?” She nods lazily, and he taps his hand against her pussy, a couple of light slaps just to get her attention. She blinks, makes eye contact, and he asks again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” She flicks her tongue over her lips, closes her eyes, and he leans back in to roll his tongue over her clit, fingers moving quickly in and out of her. She remains still for about thirty seconds and then slams down hard against his hand, and from there she doesn’t stop. “Oh please, please. So close, please daddy,” she begs, pressing into the thrusts, and just when she is starting to come he wraps his hand around the chain around her wrists, tugs her body up so he can reach her mouth, and kisses her deep and wet while he fucks her through her orgasm.

She comes hard as promised, soaking his hand, moaning into the kiss—probably due to the fact that he’s holding her up by the leash, because displays of strength make her feel extremely submissive—and when she is through he lays her gently back, unwinds the chain and kisses her wrists.

“Good girl, you did so well. Daddy is so proud.” He leans up to press easy kisses to her cheeks and mouth, and she wraps her arms around his neck, making soft noises of contentment against his lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I love making you feel good. Do you love making me feel good?”

He knows she does, but likes to hear it, even when it’s just a sigh like the one she gives him now—he knows what all of her sounds mean, when she’s so deeply sunken into subspace that she's all begging and soft noises and daddy.

“Yeah, I know you do, sweetheart. Are you ready for me to come inside you? Daddy comes inside because he owns you.”

“Daddy, mmm,” she breathes, and he gets up on his knees, spreads them, and drapes her thighs over his, slides in easily because she is still so open and slick. He wraps one hand around her thigh and brings the other to the chain hooked to her collar, loops it around his forearm, and thrusts quick and smooth, grunting when she grabs his wrists and bucks her hips against him. “Oh, fuck. Oh.” She gasps when he pulls on the chain a little harder, bounces roughly against his thighs and whimpers her pleasure, then drops a hand to her pussy and rubs as he slams into her with equal desperation.

“Yes baby, fuck daddy. Good girl, rubbing your little pussy; if I come before you, you’ll have to wait a while, so I hope you get off first.” She whines unhappily at that, rubs faster, her head tipped back, and when he squeezes her breast with the hand holding the handle of the leash she wraps her legs tightly around his thighs and comes with his name on her lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow: he takes his hands off of her completely, since she’s holding on to him with her legs, and fucks her hard, pulling on the chain and muttering praise until he spills deep inside her. She is breathless, still but for the rise and fall of her chest, and he takes a moment before pulling out, unwrapping the chain from around his arm and encouraging her to turn onto her stomach.

She complies easily, looks fucked-out and spent, and he kisses along her spine, between her shoulder blades when he slides back into her.

“Again, daddy?” she asks, barely a whisper, and he runs his hands over her body, soft and soothing, leans in to put his weight against her back, his mouth at her ear.

“Not yet, baby girl, but I want to stay inside you, okay? How are you feeling?” She turns her head for a kiss, hums.

“Fuzzy. Good.” He kisses her again and moves his lips to her jaw, then her neck, right up against the collar.

“Is it uncomfortable? Too tight?” he asks softly. He doesn’t want to upset her by suggesting they take it off, but he’s been rough with it, so he wants to check.

“No, owner daddy. It’s perfect.” She gets her arm out from beneath her, reaches it around his neck and pulls him close, nuzzles against his throat. “I love you and I love being owned by you.”

“I love you, baby girl, and I love owning you. You’ve given me everything.”

This may have started as something to do to get her through the lingering effects of the case, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t see and feel the value in the voluntary transfer of power, how easily she gave herself to him, willingly, completely. He kisses her again, sweet and slow, and then leans up, puts his hands on her ass, massages it.

“Do you need anything?” She murmurs yes, and he smiles a little to himself, rubs a hand up her back. “Thank you for telling me, baby. What can daddy do for you?”

“I need to be spanked, daddy. I couldn’t hold still.” She slides up to her hands and knees, knees spread wide, and though he’s no longer hard inside her, he doesn’t see that being a problem for long.

“That’s right. Good girl for reminding me.” He squeezes her ass, then lightly taps it, and she whimpers. “You were too horny, you couldn’t stay still. I’m not mad,” he promises with another tap. “I know how you get when I touch your pussy: you become such a messy, needy, desperate baby. You can’t help yourself.” She sighs, presses her ass back against him and tilts her head back a little.

“Can’t help myself, daddy,” is all she says, voice breathy and short, and he picks up the leash, holds it loosely along the length of her spine, and smacks her hard on the ass with an open palm.

She gasps, digs her fingers into the bedding, braces herself for more impact; by the sixth, she is grinding against him, panting and whining, her ass an angry red. She’s drenched in slick, and he’s hard again, so he grabs her ass roughly with both hands and thrusts a few times before spanking her a seventh time.

“Fuck daddy, yes daddy,” she moans, pushing eagerly into his thrusts; she fucks herself on his cock even when he’s still, even when his hands come down hard on her already irritated skin. “Mmh. I’m bad, daddy. I’m bad and I’m not perfect, but you still love me.” He exhales deeply, because he knows his girl well, and he knows this means she will be dropping, hard, as soon as she comes; he mentally prepares for the worst, just in case.

“You’re not bad, sweetheart, you are so good; not just to me, but to everyone.” He moves one hand to her hip, holds her steady, then grabs the chain with the other hand and pulls her closer while he pounds inside her. “And no, you’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for daddy; you’re smart, and sweet, and so beautiful, and I love you.” He drapes himself over her back, tugs on the chain so she will meet him for a gentle kiss, their lips so soft in contrast to the way their bodies meet, eager for release. “I love you, baby. Come and let daddy take care of you. Daddy will make it all better.”

She reaches back for him, covers his hand with hers and takes a deep, shuddering breath; it’s only a matter of time before the tears fall, and he would like to be holding her by then, so he curls his hand around to rub at her clit, murmurs reassurances and repeats that he’s got her, and she comes trembling, gasping beneath him.

He kisses her shoulders, thrusts a few more times and then pulls out to come on her hot, marked ass; breathless, he eases her body down onto the bed, leans up to brush her hair back and unbuckle the collar, sets it aside.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Time to rest and let daddy take care of you. You did so well for me, baby. You gave me everything; I will be so careful with it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feels so much emotion for the sensitive, thoughtful, incredible woman beneath him it makes his chest ache. He brings a hand to her ass, rubs his come in, knows that it stings—but they both like this, and he knows she will expect it, would feel somehow inadequate if he didn’t. He presses a kiss to her lower back. “I’m going to get you some water, good girl. Amazing, special girl. Be right back.”

He grabs a pillow, brings it to her head and lifts it up so she’s pressed comfortably against it, then gives her a peck on the cheek and heads to the kitchen for water and a snack. When he returns, she’s clutching the pillow, turned to face the door so she can see him enter. He pulls her close, sits her up enough to give her a few sips of water, then sets down the glass and holds her against his chest, soft and shivering slightly in his arms.

“I know we just had a bath earlier, but would you like another? Or a shower?” He tugs the blanket loose and wraps it around them, rocks her a little. Gently removing the ponytail holder from her hair, he shakes it loose with his fingers, rubs her throat where the collar left a slight indentation. “Sweet, owned girl, I will give you anything you need, always. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

She cries, clutching at him, and he soothes her, squeezes her, moves his hands through her hair and brushes the tears off of her face; when the sobbing slows, he reaches carefully for tissues on the bedside table, dries her eyes and helps her blow her nose, then gives her more water. She looks a little better after drinking half the glass, so he convinces her to take a couple bites of food, rubs her sore ass with a soft hand.

“Can we shower? And then more of this?” she asks, just a whisper, and he nods and leans in for some slow, sweet presses of lips. Her fingers card through his hair, and he presses a hand to her cheek. “Thank you, daddy. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I’m grateful for you, too, baby. The world just isn’t right when you’re upset—when I can’t find that brilliant smile.” It’s not quite brilliant, but the corner of her mouth does curve up for him, which he considers a good sign. “Let’s go get cleaned up and then I’ll hold you until you’re sick of me,” he teases. He unwraps them and gets off the bed with her in his arms.

“Could never be sick of you ever. Perfect daddy, perfect man.” He shoots her a look, something like yeah right but not too self-deprecating, and she cuddles closer. “Okay, perfect for me, anyway. Strong, gentle owner daddy I know I can trust with everything.”

They shower—she practically purrs when he scrubs her head with shampoo, when he combs conditioner through her hair with his fingers—and slip into pajamas, and he takes the comforter to the laundry room and grabs the spare, wraps her up tight and pulls her close, hugs and kisses and talks to her about everything and nothing until she’s ready for some dinner and a movie on the couch.

She thanks him for everything he did to help her through it, but it’s really his pleasure; it’s where he finds his value, and he tells her so. Because she can’t wear the collar to work, he makes a stop on his lunch break a week later, sneaks into a jewelry store, and buys her a ring.

There is no room to inscribe his initials, but his intentions are heavily implied.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #request #prompt

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mysticalabhainn · 3 years

Note

Sfw & Nsfw shisui uchiha x reader headcanons pls 👉🏼👈🏼 :)

Shisui Uchiha x Reader | SFW & NSFW headcanons

A/N: I’ve never written for him, it was fun to interpret his character! Thank you :) sorry it took a get out!

Summary: Shisui x Reader general headcanons, sfw and nsfw

Warnings: NSFW below read at your own risk! Praise kink, slight pain kink, hair pulling.

SFW

- He seems like he’d be quite a hopeless romantic!

- Your first date was a picnic in the woods, at sunset with candles and all of your favorite foods and snacks, literally a fairytale dream!

- Holds your hand all the time, or alternatively he’ll place your hands around his biceps :’)

- forehead kisses, let me repeat FOREHEAD KISSES T-T

- He once laughed so hard at your joke that tea came out of his nose.

- His parents love you!

- He often finds himself daydreaming about your guys future when cuddling.

- Afternoon naps on the couch on rainy days sounds like his jam.

- Run your fingers through his hair while kissing him and he’s putty in your grip.

- Kisses between Shisui and you rarely get rushed or frenzied, they’re usually soft and patient, sometimes slow.

- He smells like fresh pine and musk, with a hint of orange.

- You guys do your nighttime routines together, face masks, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, the whole works.

- Your second date got interrupted by both of you being called to a mission, which you made up for a few days later, he was really upset about it.

- I feel like he’d always ask if it’s okay to touch you, especially before hugs!

- speaking of hugs his hugs are warm and welcoming, he’ll rub his hand up and down your spine the other massaging your scalp.

- He has nightmares so please take care of him!

- #1 person to go to for comfort and praise.

NSFW

- I see him being more on the vanilla side, but he’s definitely willing to experiment if you ask!

- Likes praise and hair pulling.

- Kinda likes the burn of your nails scratching down his back but he’ll never admit, he thinks it’s embarrassing :(

- He’s not opposed to hair and doesn’t mind it at all, that won’t stop him from doing anything!

- A gentle lover.

- Prefers being on Top but is fine either way!

- His kisses get slightly harsher and press more into you when he’s ✨horny✨

- Literally melts his brain when he watches you cum, like wow you are so hot.

- Likes giving oral more then receiving oral.

- will go down on you for hours, low key overstimulates you, he swears he doesn’t do it on purpose but you have your suspicion he’s lying.

- He gets a little rougher when he’s mad or has had a bad day.

- Ultimately a gentle lover, he caters to your needs a lot, please remember him as well!!

Tags | None currently

#caitie eats ramen!#naruto headcanons #shisui uchiha #shisui x reader #shisui headcanons #mystic.thirst #praise #pain kink #hair pulling

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cloudteawrites · 3 years

Text

chapter: three ( 2.9k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

You did what any sane person would do upon finding one of the world’s deadliest predators making itself at home in their living room: you made unbroken eye contact with it for a solid five seconds before backing out of the penthouse and quietly closing the door. You stand in the hallway, staring at your hand still wrapped around the handle, unable to move. “No,” you mutter softly. “That can’t be right...” You punch the code in again and peak your head inside. The tiger is still there, staring straight at you. It makes a noise and you slam the door shut. You weren’t hallucinating, you weren’t dreaming. There was definitely a tiger on your couch. “What the fuuuuuck… ” You mutter, pulling your phone from your jacket pocket and punching in Mr. Seo’s number as fast as your thumbs will let you. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-”

The phone rings once, three times, seven. There’s no answer. You groan and try not to think of this as the universe punishing you for being late. You hang up and send him a text instead, imploring him to call you back as soon as possible.

You press your back flat against the door and slide down it, sitting with your legs splayed out in front of you. There was a tiger in the penthouse. There was a tiger in the penthouse. You drag your hands down your face, replaying all your conversations with Mr. Seo and all the documents you’d read. There’d been nothing about pets in the asset manifest. You knew; you’d checked three times. You weren’t confident in your ability to take care of all of Oliver’s companies much less another living thing. You didn’t even really want to take care of the hybrids, but you’d appeased yourself with the knowledge that it was only temporary. So why there was a tiger in your living room you couldn’t say...Unless-

Your eyes widen. All the purchase order had said was three felines. It’d been you that’d made the assumption they’d be house cats. Not to mention, Mr. Park said the hybrids had been delivered already which meant the big cat sunning itself on the couch was-

Before you can draw the thought to its logical conclusion, the door swings open. You tilt backward, world going askew, but before your head can crack against the marble tile there’s a flurry of movement and someone’s holding it in soft hands.

You see azure eyes, soft lips, a crop of honey blonde hair. You blink up at the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. His mouth melts into a close-lipped smile. “Hello,” His voice is soft and airy, almost musical. “You must be our new owner.”

You wince at the word owner. “Uh, I’m Y/N, yeah.”

He hums in acknowledgement then asks, “Would you like to stand up? The floor must be uncomfortable.”

“Oh!” You’d been so busy staring into his eyes that you’d forgotten he was crouched on the ground, holding your head in his hands. “Yeah, I would. Thanks for catching me.”

He gives you another smile. “Of course,” He purrs.

The man offers you a hand and helps you to your feet. Even when you’re standing, he doesn’t release it. You try to tug your own away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but he holds you fast and laces your fingers together. You balk down at your conjoined hands and shoot him a look of concern, but if the prospect of holding hands with a virtual stranger bothers him, you certainly can’t tell from the serene expression on his face.

Now that you’re standing and you get a better look at him, you can tell that he’s really -almost disconcertingly- good looking. His hair is well groomed and, if the golden spotted ears poking out from it are any indication, naturally blonde. He’s dressed simply, in a loose-fitting cream sweatshirt and matching pants. The logo of breeding company he’d come from was embroidered neatly on the upper left side of it, just above his heart. He’s taller than you, but not overly so. You’re at eye-level with the elegant column of his throat. He’s slender, from what you could tell, and he smells nice, like soap and fresh linen. He notices you ogling him and tilts his head to the side, catching your gaze again.

“Is this your first time meeting a hybrid?” He’s still smiling at you calmly and you feel at ease despite the nervous heat you can feel creeping into your cheeks.

You offer him a wincing smile in return. “Is it that obvious?” Despite them being relatively common, you’d only seen them from a distance or when they were standing silent beside their owners while they made a purchase. You’d never had an actual conversation with one. You feel something twine around your calf and you jump, startled. There, wrapped around your leg, was a long, fluffy tail, just as golden and spotted as his ear. Well that , certainly wasn’t a house cat’s tail.

The man laughs at your reaction and it sounds like bells. “It’s okay,” he assures you, tugging you out of the doorway and into the apartment. “I don’t mind the staring.”

You feel a little relieved knowing you hadn’t offended him. Your temporary relaxation evaporates when you catch sight of the tiger again over the hybrid’s right shoulder. In the haze of meeting this one, you’d completely forgotten the one stretched out over the couch. The spotted hybrid notices your gaze shift and squeezes your hand lightly.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes, tail tip twitching against your calf. That was right, you’d heard they could smell chemicals that signaled major shifts in emotion. “That’s Taehyung. He was born wild, so that body is a little more comfortable for him. There’s still a person in there, so you don’t need to worry, okay?”You nod mutely, only moderately comforted by the spotted hybrid’s reassurance. “-And I’m Jimin.”

Jimin. Taehyung. You repeat the names to yourself over and over again in your head.

“-And Yoongi-hyung is around here somewhere.” That was right; there were supposed to be three of them. “He’s probably sleeping; he doesn’t like to be awake during the day time. If you find a bobcat in a closet don’t be surprised, okay?”

You swallow dryly. “No promises.”

The man- Jimin, you remind yourself. His name was Jimin - let out another soft laugh and steps back, untangling his tail from you to turn and face the tiger. “Tae,” he calls. “Come say hello to Y/N.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and you hold your free hand up. “No!” You say, alarmed, as the tiger rises and stretches. It lets a long, barbed tongue loll out of its mouth as it yawns and you feel your blood go cold at the sight of three-inch long incisors. “I-It’s okay; he doesn’t have to get up if he doesn’t want to!” But the tiger has already hopped down from the couch and is sidling toward you. You make a noise of distress and try to tug away from Jimin, but he’s stronger than he looks. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. It doesn’t help.

Taehyung stalks closer and closer until he’s right in front of you. You stand as still as you can manage, trying not to do anything that might set the predator off. Hybrid or not, he could still take a chunk out of you if the mood struck him.

Far away he was big, but up close he’s massive. On all fours, his shaggy head reaches your waist. If you bent forward to wrap your arms around his neck, you’re not sure if they’d even reach all the way. His paws are the width of dinner plates and from nose tip to tail, he has to be at least ten feet long. There’s no doubt that he’s a beautiful animal. Beautiful and terrifying.

For a moment the three of you stand there: Jimin holding your hand, you staring at the tiger and the tiger staring back. Suddenly he leans forward and presses his nose to your stomach, letting out a rumble that makes your whole body vibrate. Your eyes snap toward Jimin, wide. The other hybrid seems completely at ease. If anything, his smile’s gotten even wider.

“He wants you to pet him,” he says by means of explanation.

“Is that okay?” Before Jimin can give you answer, Taehyung presses his muzzle even further into your stomach and huffs. His breath is so warm you can feel it even through your jacket. You let out a puff of air. “Alright…”

You move slowly so you don’t startle him. You set a trembling hand atop the tiger’s head and gently run your fingers through his fur. It’s wirier than you thought it’d be, the hairs coarse against your skin. The tiger lets out another rumble, louder this time and much longer. You snatch your hand back for a moment, startled, and worried he was upset- but he sat back on his haunches, reached out with one massive paw and pressed your hand back against his head.

You let out a surprised bark of laughter.

Emboldened by his apparent approval, you risk scratching behind his ears. The big cat practically melts. If he could purr, you think he would. A hesitant smile creeps on to your lips. “You’re not so bad, huh?” He tilts his head forward to give you better access to his ears.

You feel Jimin’s tail curl around your ankle again, the hybrid apparently pleased to see you getting along so well with his friend. “None of us are,” he hums, taking advantage of your distracted state to brush your conjoined hands against his cheek. “Not when you get to know us.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” A gruff voice at the top of the glass staircase catches your attention. There on the landing is a man in a black sweatsuit identical to Jimin’s. His ash gray hair is a mess, mashed up on one side from sleep and his eyes are squinted against the light seeping in from the oversized windows. A pair of large, tufted ears are turned backward on top of his head and a short tail flicks behind him in irritation. The two other hybrids disentangle themselves from you immediately. “Didn’t I tell you to wake me up when the owner got here?”

There’s that word again: owner. You hate how final sounds. In the eyes of the law they may have been your property, but they were still people. You didn’t want them to think of themselves as something you possessed, however brief their stay with you would be.

The black-clad man slumps down the stairs, clearly displeased with the scene before him. Taehyung lowers his head between his shoulders and slinks back to his position on the couch, but Jimin stays by your side, slightly behind your shoulder. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to use you as a shield from his hyung.

Yoongi stops in front of the kitchen, tugs out a bar stool and drops his weight into it. He’s still a good twenty feet away, but Jimin doesn’t look appeased. “You were sleeping, Hyung…” he purrs. “I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“Bullshit,” the bobcat huffs . “You two just wanted to scent like a bunch of cubs and you knew I’d stop you.”

Jimin’s bottom lip pokes out into a pout but he doesn’t deny the accusation.

“...Is scenting bad?”

Yoongi cuts his eyes at you and his stare is so icy, you get the feeling you shouldn’t have spoken at all. His tail lashes behind him.

“It’s not bad,” Jimin soothes, his hand finding your lower back. He rubs circles into it, trying to relax you. “It’s just-”

“It’s rude.” Yoongi cuts him off. “And they know better.”

Jimin wilts and slowly retracts his hand.

Yoongi rakes a hand back through his hair and you catch your first good look at his face. It’s small, his features soft but well articulated. He’s boyishly handsome- or would be if he wasn't fixing you and his junior with a look that could freeze hell over. “Jimin, Taehyung, go upstairs.”

The spotted hybrid behind doesn’t argue, just lets his tail and ears droop as he slumps toward the staircase, the tiger on his heels.”

It’s only once they’ve disappeared around a corner and a door shuts that Yoongi speaks again.”What do you want us for?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Why do you think I want you for something?”

“This isn’t our first time doing this,” he drawls. “You people think just because you can have something, you should . So, you go out and buy exotic hybrids that you can walk around on a gold leash to show off to all of your friends. Or you take us off suppressants so you can take advantage of us. Or you treat us like dolls. You don’t think we’re real. We’re just toys to you, and if you break us? Well, that’s okay because you can always buy another.”

Your mouth feels dry. Was that what his life had been like up until this point? A revolving door of people who only saw him as temporary entertainment and gave him back when he turned out to be more trouble than they thought he was worth? You knew that feeling; were more familiar with it than you’d care to admit or remember. “I’m not like that,” You insist, softly.

“I don’t know what you’re like,” Yoongi scoffs. “And if you’re just gonna send us back in a month, I don’t really care to find out.” An uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, his gray gaze still focused to a sharp point in you. “Jimin, Taehyung, they’re young. They still have hope. You’re only Tae’s second owner. You’re Jimin’s third.” A pause, and then, “You’re my eighth. I know how this goes.” He pushes up from the bar stool and stalks back toward the stairs. “I don’t care how you treat me,” he calls back over his shoulder as he retreats back to the second floor. “But don’t get their hopes up by pretending to be something you’re not.”

A door slams and you flinch. You’re alone again

This day was not going how you thought it would. All the videos you’d watched online had shown bright eyes hybrids smiling as they were embraced by their new families, happy to be taken home. None of them had covered what to do if your hybrid didn’t want to be at home and certainly not how to handle an exotic one.

You shuffle over to the living room, toss your backpack onto the floor and step over the back of the couch into the sunken living room . You settle down, cross-legged and pull out your phone.You open up your web app and input your first query.

my hybrid hates me

3.5 million results.

You scroll down, article after article explaining how you should deal with dog hybrids challenging your authority, bunny hybrids thumping because they felt insecure, and cat hybrids knocking things over in a bid to get your attention. You suck your teeth. None of these were going to help you. You tap on the search bar and edit your request.

my exotic hybrid hates me

182 results. Most of them were for porn. You quickly hit the back button.

“Okay,” you mutter. “Let’s try something else.”

what is hybrid scenting

18.6 million results.

The top one is from the International Association of Hybrid Owners and you figure that’s as good a source as any. You tap it and scan the first paragraph.

Hybrids have a sense of smell that is thousands of times more powerful than a human’s. Scent is used to interpret emotions, track food in the wild and identify members of a family group. Juvenile hybrids often gravitate toward familiar smells in order to self-soothe if their parent is not available.

Upon welcoming a new hybrid into your home they may wish to mix their scent with yours in order to signify your new bond or let other hybrids know that you are a member of their family group. If there are multiple hybrids in the home, it is important that the dominant hybrid be allowed to scent you first, then the subordinate hybrid(s) in order of age. If this scenting order is not enforced, it can cause disharmony within the family group and tension between members.

You close the article and set your phone down. Was that why Yoongi was upset? Because Jimin and Taehyung had essentially marked you as a member of their family without his say so and undermined his authority? You flop back against the couch cushions. You were sure that wasn’t the only reason but it certainly didn’t help

You think about the cold look in Yoongi’s eyes, about how eager Jimin and Taehyung had been to get their scent on you, about how tightly Jimin had held onto your hands, like you were going to slip away into smoke at any moment. You drag your hands down over your eyes. Well, one thing was for certain. You certainly couldn’t send them back now.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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