#two dead men walking au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonzzzn · 20 days

Text

flawless execution: sim jaeyun

roles reversed au of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 9.2k

synopsis: when a masked serial killer is on the loose, jake, the head of the journalist department at his college, gets put in charge of the cases along side you as his second. as jake unfolds the mystery, other truths come out.

genre: ghostface!reader, journalist!jake, smut

warnings: swearing, blood + m*rder mentions, unprotected sex, knife play, dom!reader, switch!jake, hair pulling, jake gets cut at some point, tit sucking, lemme know if I missed anything. MINORS DNI!!!

His cell phone rang once…twice…three times before he finally pulled the device from his pocket and answered the call. Before he could form a sentence, the other voice was speaking.

“Turn on the campus news right now. More bodies were found.”

Jake quickly turned from where he was standing and jumped over his couch, fumbling with the remote.

“The masked killer ghost face has killed college students __ and __ and were found roughly an hour ago by the fountain on campus grounds—“

Jake didn’t finish listening before gathering his things and burst out his apartment door, running as quickly as possible to campus.

A crowd was already forming around the famous fountain, caution tape, and police pushing back the students. Jake pushed his way through the crowd, holding up his campus journal ID to the policeman, “Let me through.”

The officer side-eyed his ID and then Jake, opening his mouth to speak but Jake wasn’t having any of it, “Let. Me. Through.”

“He’s with me,” you yelled at the officer from where you stood by the fountain, “Let him in.”

The officer pulled up the tape with a groan, finally letting Jake through.

He jogged over to your side, glaring back at the asshole officer, “How did you get here before me?”

You crossed your arms, looking at the fountain, “I’m just that good. You’re more worried about how I got here first when we have a job?” you giggled, giving him a wink.

Jake chuckled at you. He loved that he had you as his partner. You were funny and a super genius at everything you do. Jake looked at the fountain as well, examining the two bodies that were propped on the fountain. They were players on the hockey team.

Jake pulled his notepad and pen from his back pocket, taking note of who these guys were and the state of their bodies. Both men had their throats slashed, backs bent over the fountain, and heads completely submerged in the water. They each had roughly twelve stab wounds to their torso, with a few slashes to each of their arms and legs. The water of the fountain and the white marble of the fountain were stained red. He rubbed his fingers against his lips, deep in thought. Whoever this ghost face is, they didn’t go easy on these guys.

“Do we know who found them?” Jake asked you, jotting more notes down on his notepad and glancing over at you.

You slowly look over at him, “Crazy thing is,” you sigh, looking back to the bodies, “Yunjin and myself.”

Jake placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you to completely face him, “That’s how you got here before me?!? YN, what happened?!”

You pinch his bicep, giving him a smirk, “You’re still more concerned about how I got here first? This isn’t a competition, Jakey poo.”

Jake rolled his eyes at the nickname you’ve given him, dropping his arms to his sides, “I kind of need to know what my partner knows, don’t I?”

You smile at him, then turn your body back to the dead bodies. Jake could have sworn he saw a sparkle light up your eyes as you studied them. You always loved being on the scene of the crimes, Jake did too. Something about the thrill of finding evidence and solving the cases is so exhilarating. But you always seemed to enjoy it more than Jake did. It’s one factor that will help make you one damn good detective someday. You already have offers from multiple different offices looking to scout you.

“Yunjin and I were just taking a walk. Talking about the drama going on with the other people in her major and that’s when we found the bodies.”

Jake studied your face, watching how the early summer wind blew your hair into your eyes and how you fought to keep the strands pulled behind your ears, it was cute. “Where is Yunjin now?” Jake asked, scanning the crowd of students.

You pointed off to your left, “She’s with an officer right now, sitting on the park bench with one of the campus professors. Think he’s a stem professor.” Jake spotted your best friend, her red hair covered her face as she rocked back and forth on the bench, arms holding herself and the professor trying to comfort her. He walked around you, preparing himself to ask Yunjin the questions he’ll need to, only to be stopped by you, “Don’t question her right now,” you said, pulling him towards you, resting your breasts against his bicep, pleading with him, “she’s not taking all this very well,” Jake opened his mouth to protest, to tell you he had a job to do. Still, you stopped him again, “Please, Jakey! She’s my best friend, I’ll handle it and get you up to date, I promise.”

Jake knew he had no control over this matter, she was your best friend and it honestly might be easier for her to speak with you. So Jake nodded, letting you take that lead, and smiled at you. But there still was a job to do, so Jake pulled your arms off his gently, trying his best to not press his arm any closer to your breasts than it already was from your grip, “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

You nodded, pulling out your own notebook from your bag. Jake asked you a few questions first about arriving on the scene and writing everything down. After that he pulled his camera from his bag, taking pictures around the fountain, the bodies, and the surrounding area. Not wanting to leave any details out.

You watched him as he did his thing, following behind him taking your own notes and photographs, studying the area just as much as he was. Jake was in his element, that’s for sure. He wasn’t crowned head of the journalism department for no reason. Eventually Jake knelt to the ground, slinging his camera over his shoulder and jotting more notes down. You removed your gaze from him to look at your best friend, seeing her already staring back at you.

You could see her bottom lip was trembling, and fear and concern spread throughout her whole face as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself, scooting closer to the officer. The small smile you had faded as you watched your friend, wanting to—

“YN,” Jake called you over, turning your attention back to him. He pulled two latex gloves from his bag and pulled them onto his hands, “I found something.”

You knelt down beside him, watching as he lifted the camera and shot a couple of photos, “What did you find?”

Jake reached over, picking up a broken earring from underneath one of the guy’s shoes, gently holding it between his gloved fingers and holding it up to the sky, “How did something like this get here?”

Jake narrowed his eyes at her earring, it looked familiar. But he couldn’t pinpoint how or why. The earring wasn’t too feminine or too masculine, making it a perfect fit for any gender and nowhere even helping narrow down who this ghost face even was. All Jake knew was the killer had to have their ears pierced.

“Maybe they had it on their person already?” you suggested, leaning closer to Jake to get a better view of the earring, “Or maybe the killer somehow dropped it?”

“I’m thinking of the ladder,” Jake whispered, turning the earring between his index and thumb, “But that just means these boys fought whoever our ghost face is.”

“That’s definitely a great possibility,” you said with a sigh, glancing over to Jake’s face, seeing how focused he was on this earring.

Jake gave the earring to a forensics investigator to take back to their lab. The police eventually came over and shooed you and Jake off the scene to let the professionals take over, forcing the two of you to head to the journalism office on campus to finish the rest of your own investigations. Jake and you printed off the photos the both of you took and took notes on what the other wrote down in their own notebooks, making copies for each other to have.

Jake was racking his brain on this case and the previous ones that ghost face had committed. He glanced up at the clock, seeing how late it was, and dismissing the meeting, the both of you going your separate ways.

Jake stood at the edge of campus and watched as you made your way to your own apartment complex on the other side of the school, wanting to make sure you at least got halfway through campus safely before making his own way to his apartment.

You weren’t completely new to the journalism scene but were still new as an official journalist in a way. Before you joined the club, it was just Jake and Danielle, a freshman who has a keen eye for writing and helped Jake out with every paper that was written and sent off to the news club. But with the mysterious ghost face killings, he needed an extra set of hands. Danielle wrote about everything with the school, not just the crimes that happened here. And with her still being a freshman, Jake needed that help. He tried to take it up alone, but as the body count started rising, the more it got harder to handle. That’s when you came in, answering Jake's application he posted around the campus and on the campus website.

Jake has seen you around campus many times before you joined his team but knew next to nothing about you, so of course he did his research before just letting you join the team, can’t have a killer in the ranks huh? But everything about you came back clean. No criminal record or record of anything bad at all. You were a straight-A student back in school, were born and raised in the next town over, and was the sweetheart of that town. You graduated top of your class and was accepted into this college two years before your graduation. You volunteered and donated to charity and worked as an intern at the local police station every weekend to help land you a job there after graduating college. Jake was amazed at how smart you were and dedicated to the job of being a detective someday. And you’d make a killer one someday.

You were perfect for the team, Jake would be stupid to not accept you. You fit into the team perfectly and became his second and partner super quickly. He taught you everything he knew, and you succeeded way past his expectations. You were honestly a blessing and Jake couldn’t be happier to have found you for the team. When you first joined, the ghost face killings were only at six…but with the ones that were found today, the count went up to seventeen.

—

Jake found himself waving in and out of the club office in between classes the following week, adding photos and new news articles about the ghost face cases to the corkboard he kept in the office. Wrapping red string around the thumbtacks connecting to each murder and each suspect that was under Jake’s radar.

He stared at the corkboard for what felt like hours, soon enough classes were done for the day and Danielle walked into the office, “I swear you were staring at that board when I walked past an hour ago.”

So I have been looking at this thing for too long

Jake blinked a few times at Dani then released a sigh, “Been trying to wrap my brain around this for way too long.”

Danielle giggles, “Then why don’t you help me write this article about the victims from the hockey team.”

Jake smiled, agreeing to help her. He sat down beside her at the table, advising as she typed out the article and pulled up the facts about the case from his notes and what the official news had stated.

The longer Jake helped Dani write the paper, the more he came to the realization the two guys the ghost face killed were…kind of assholes. They apparently already were under investigation by the campus police for harassment of other females and even tipped one of the hockey refs to let any of their team's penalties go unnoticed. They weren’t great guys, but they didn’t deserve to die, not the way they were killed.

As Danielle emailed the article to the news club and packed up her things, you made your appearance in the club, “Sorry I am late,” you said rushing in and setting your backpack to the floor, “My exam ran later than I thought it would, ran as fast as I could across campus to get here.” Jake smiled at you as he watched you pull your long hair back into a ponytail, taking notice of how flushed your face was from your run here.

“It’s okay,” Jake finally said, glancing down at his notes, “Danielle and I wrote the article and I’ve been staring at that corkboard all day, we can push the meeting to tomorrow.”

You sat down beside him, staring at Danielle as she stood up, “You heading out?”

Danielle nodded, “Tryouts for the volleyball team for next semester are coming up, fixing to head off to one of the practices the coach is hosting for them.”

You gave her a thumbs up, “You got this! You’ll be the best on the team Dani!” the younger blushed and thanked you, giving her own thumbs up as she rushed out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Jake's eyes trailed from the door to you, finding how cute your flushed face looked.

“How did writing the article go?” you asked, taking notice of how hard Jake was staring, forcing the ends of your lips to curl up. You pulled your laptop from your backpack, still waiting for his answer.

But Jake was in a daze. He always found you super cute. And it’s not that often he gets to spend alone time with you like this. Most of the time the both of you are working on a project or the ghost face murders so there wasn’t time to just sit and hang out like there was right now.

Jake bit the inside of his cheek, eyes trailing down from your eyes to your lips, to your jawline, and then…“What happened to your ear?”

Your left ear lobe looked as if it were cut in half, clear stitches pulled the skin tight together and were a slight pink color, showing it was recent but healing properly. Normally you have your hair down or pulled half up and he wasn’t normally this close to you on your left side, so Jake never was able to notice this injury.

You covered your ear, eyes locking with Jake’s, “Uhh, it happened not too long ago,” you said, giving him a small smile, “Yunjin and I were messing around, my earring got caught in her shirt and pulled a bit too hard.”

Jake raised his brows and stuck his bottom lip out, “That sounds like it was painful.”

You giggled at his concerned cute look, turning back to face your laptop, “It wasn’t fun, that’s for certain.”

Speaking of Yunjin, “Hey,” Jake cleared his throat, “I still need to speak with Yunjin about what hap—“

You cut him off, “Please give her more time, Jake,” you quickly said, fumbling with some files on your laptop, “She’s still very shaken up. Hasn’t spoken much at the apartment after finding the bodies. I’ll get the police reports from her account soon and it’ll help us out a lot, I’m sure of it.”

Another week has passed since the fountain murders and Jake’s brain was on overdrive. He moved the corkboard from the office to the kitchen in his apartment, hoping the fluorescent bulbs of his kitchen would illuminate the board in better ways than the ones at the office.

Jake leaned against the back of his couch, cupping his jaw in his hand while the other hand gripped his elbow, his eyes trailing every inch of the board from the very first ghost face murder to the recent one. Every news article and photograph and police report possible from all cases was plastered on the board, the red string tying everything together but also totally not.

Nothing made sense to him. Nothing connected together to help him have an eureka moment. Whoever this ghost face was, they were good at what they do. Covering their tracks in every possible way and not even leaving a single piece of DNA at the crime scenes, that was until the earring.

Jake ran his hands through his dark hair and tangled his fingers at the back strand of his hair by his neck, letting out a groan. He needed that final police report that you have yet to give to him. Needed to get Yunjin’s account of what happened that day. These were important pieces to the puzzle that were missing and he needed them now. Jake glanced up at the clock above his kitchen sink, it was now one thirty in the morning. But Jake’s thoughts on needing those items didn’t care what time it was and didn’t stop him as he pulled his shoes on and bounced out the door.

He now stood outside your apartment door, knocking loudly and not giving a damn who heard it. There was no answer. Jake knocked again. Still silent. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed your number. The line rang twice.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door, the knob turning and the door opening to reveal you in your pajamas and half awake with messy hair. You groaned, “Jake, don’t you know what time it is?” you yawned, stretching your arms out, “Why are you even here?”

“Can I have the police report?”

You blinked at him, “Huh?”

Jake leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms, “The police report, YN. I need it. Can I have it?”

You let out another yawn, “It’s at the school. In the office.”

Of course, it was, why wouldn’t it be? The campus was closed and Jake could risk getting caught sneaking into the campus this late at night for a damned piece of paper. Jake sighs, “Thanks anyway” he lifts himself off the rail, turning to leave but then stops, “Can I speak to Yunjin?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, leaning against the doorframe and crossing your arms, “Jake, it’s almost two in the morning, why are you even out and about? What if ghost face gets you?”

Then they get me I guess. I’ll put up a fight.

Jake knew it was a risk coming over here. Mostly because the killer had to be a student. They could be lurking anywhere on campus ground or the apartments/houses surrounding it. He knew it was dangerous.

“YN,” he mumbled your name, “I can’t sit back and do nothing. I need to catch this murder.”!

You frowned at him, your eyes softening for him, “Jakey, you know you’re allowed to live a normal college life right? To be a normal student?” Jake just shrugs. He knew he could have a normal everyday life if he wished, but he couldn’t rest until he knew this town was safe from ghost face. You roll your eyes at him, “Jake, go home and go to sleep, I can see the bags under your eyes. Let the professionals take care of this, ya? We can only do so much as student detectives and journalists.”

Jake tilted his head and raised a brow, never once had he ever heard you speak that way, “Let me speak to Yunjin.”

You stood your ground, “No! Go home Sim Jaeyun, before you get yourself killed.”

Jake scoffs, “See you tomorrow then.”

You repeated the words before slamming the door in his face. Jake quickly walked down the stairs, his anger fuming. He didn’t understand why you were so against him speaking with Yunjin. He thought maybe you were being protective over your best friend and for her peace of mind, but Yunjin didn’t look well after discovering the bodies and was completely shaken up to the point where she didn’t show up to campus for a handful of days. Knowing this information and you acting weird over it only made him want to speak to Yunjin even more. Jake’s interest peaked when he noticed Yunjin’s vehicle wasn’t in its normal parking spot.

Meaning she wasn’t home.

Jake has respected your wishes through this entire case on speaking with Yunjin, but this matter was getting series and he was growing desperate for answers. Talking to Yunjin just might be the big break he needed. The side of Jake’s lips curled in a smile as he quickly jogged to the entrance of your apartment complex and took one final look back at your door to make sure you were inside. Once he confirmed you weren’t in sight, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“He-hello?”

“Yunjin, it’s Jake. Where are you right now?”

—

Jake found Yunjin sitting on one of the park benches by the fountain. She stared with all her focus at the fountain, lips pulled into a thin line and hands clasped together in her lap. Jake bit at the inside of his cheek, feeling bad for her and the thoughts that could be running through her mind at this moment, or well, ever since the murders.

“You know,” Jake teased as he walked closer to her, trying to ease the tension, “There are other ways to get distractions from what happened.”

Yunjin just glared at him through her dark red bangs, “I’m not in the mood to joke around, Sim.”

Jake sighed, now biting at the skin on his lips as he sat down beside her, keeping his eyes locked on the fountain. It was clean now, obviously, but Jake could see the two bodies slumped over the marbled stone and blood pooling out onto it and in the water. If Jake didn’t take on crime scenes for a living—or well future living—he too probably would be losing his brains.

“How are you holding up?” Jake asked after some time, already knowing the answer.

Yunjin scoffs, wrapping her arms around herself, “Holding up as in two weeks ago I found two dead bodies bent over that fountain, or holding up as in I’ve been questioned left and right by literally everyone, or my best friend/roommate smothering me to stay home and just take time?”

Jake truly felt terrible for Yunjin, mostly for what he was about to ask her. Jake could see that she wanted to forget about it, to push it to the back of her mind and act like it never happened. Who could blame her? It takes special people to look at a dead body and be completely unfazed by it. Jake just happened to be one of those special people.

“I am so sorry for having to ask you to go through this again…” Jake said barely above a whisper, keeping his body as still as possible.

Yunjin sighs, “If I am being honest, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while about all this.”

Jake quickly turns his body to face her, being a little too excited to finally get Yunjin’s account, “Yeah?”

She nodded, turning to face him, pulling her legs to her chest, “YN was against it, talking to you,” she swallowed, staring off at something past Jake, “Something was off about her that day…I had a bad feeling the entire day.”

“What do you mean?” Jake placed a hand on her elbow, “You’re safe, you can tell me anything. Start from the beginning?”

Yunjin stared into his eyes and nodded, reverting her eyes back off into the distance, “She told me she was meeting up with some people from her class to work on a project,” she took a deep breath, “At first I thought nothing of it, she’s met up with classmates before. So you could probably understand my surprise when said classmates called me to ask where she was because they tried calling her wanting to ask about meeting up. Which was odd, so I told them that she said she was already heading to meet them, and they said they had zero clue what I was talking about.”

Jake sat back on the bench, staring off into the distance now, the cogwheels of his brain slowly starting to turn, waiting for Yunjin to continue speaking.

“I got terrified. I rushed out of the apartment and searched everywhere for her. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered off somewhere, ya know?” Jake understood completely. With the ghost face on the run, everyone was watching their backs and keeping their loved ones close and being so afraid. It was a question of who would be next? Who is next? “But I found her lingering around the edge of campus digging through her duffle bag. My heart nearly stopped when I saw she was alive,” she took another deep breath, “I confronted her, and she played it off that she meant people from her volunteer job on the other side of campus.”

Jake studied her face, trying to read it, seeing how pale she was getting now, “I believed her at first, thinking maybe I just misheard her that morning and we started walking back to the apartment. But she wasn’t acting normal, acting like herself. Kept touching her ears and digging through her duffle bag and saying she needed to go find something and just ran off. So I decided to follow her the best I could in the direction she ran off to. I couldn’t just let her go off on her own, not when there’s a crazy psycho ghost face killer on campus. I saw her go through the gates to the park, but once I reached there…I couldn’t find her and just kept walking until…the bodies…” Her eyes widened and tilted her head down to the bench, hands clenching her shins.

Jake cupped her face with his hands, pulling her to look back up at him, doing his best to comfort her, “Hey, it’s all okay.”

She nodded, pulling her face out of his hands and staring at the fountain, “I smelt the blood first and noticed their bodies second. And…I heard footsteps behind me and I just knew…I knew I would be next. Before I could turn around and face the killer, the stem professor was walking by, noticing the bodies and dropping everything he had in his hands to the grass and was screaming, locking eyes with me, and pointing saying that we did it. I whipped around to see YN standing behind me, her eyes were wide and her skin was pale and sweaty, staring back and forth between me, the professor, and the bodies. And she’s never been surprised to see bodies. She’s been working with you for over a year now, so when I saw how surprised she was…the look on her face…”

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Yunjin kept going, “The funniest thing is her duffle bag was missing,” she scoffed and shook her head, “How does a duffle bag just disappear.” It was a good question. A damned good question, “She hasn’t been the same since then.”!

Jake decided to try and lighten the mood, “Maybe you short-circuited her brain when the two of you were wrestling around not too long ago.” Yunjin gave him a confused look, “You know? She said the two of you were messing around and her earring got caught in her shirt and pulled it straight down her ear. She got stitches for it?” Jake pointed to his left ear lobe, tracing it down the middle where it was cut clean in half, “Right here.”

Yunjin raised a brow, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Jake. We don’t wrestle each other or she’s never close enough to me where her jewelry would snag on my clothing. We barely hug each other too.” The smile Jake had faded, confusion pulled on his face. Before Jake could respond, Yunjin’s phone started vibrating in her pocket, She pulled it out and saw your caller ID on the screen, “Guess she figured out I’m not at the apartment.” She locked the phone, ignoring the call, “I don’t tell her when I leave the apartment. So I guess I’ll need to prepare myself for a lecture when I get back.” She stood up, stretching her arms out above her head, “Thank you for listening to me. I feel a lot better, honestly. I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it more than likely isn’t even her. She’s just being weird, I guess.”

Jake stayed on the bench and watched as Yunjin disappeared into the night before standing up and finally making his way back to his apartment and crawling into his bed. Jake replayed Yunjin’s story over and over and over, trying to piece together every bit of information she gave him tonight. It still didn’t make any sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop Jake from pulling his phone off the charger and sending you a quick text to meet him at his apartment as soon as possible tomorrow. To his surprise, you responded back rather quickly saying you had some volunteer work that morning but will be there right after.

—

“You know, you should really keep your front door locked Jakey poo, there’s a killer out there.” You teased him, making yourself at home and dropping your duffle bag into the chair at his kitchen table. Your eyes looked at him, then to the corkboard, “Make any kind of progress yet?”

Jake took a quick glance at your duffle bag and then at you, then back to the board, “I haven’t. And I left my door unlocked on purpose since you were coming over. You always let yourself in anyways.”

You smiled at him, walking to stand at his right, crossing your arms behind your back and staring directly at the board, eyes trailing the red string to each case. Jake let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. You glanced up at him, “Don’t worry, we’ll catch them. It’s no doubt, Jakey poo.”

Jake looked down at you, his heart skipping a beat at the nickname you’ve given him, clenching his hands against his biceps. You looked back at the corkboard, giving Jake the perfect access to look at your left ear lobe. The ditches were gone, but the scar was still very much present. Jake bit at the skin on his cheek, processing his thoughts.

You looked back up at him, noticing his stare, and gave him another smile, “Mind if I freshen up in your bathroom? I got kinda sweaty at my volunteer job today, I probably don’t smell like roses and sunshine.”

Jake scrunched his nose in a joking matter, “Please do, you smell stinky.”

You roll your eyes and pinch his arm, moving quickly away from his side before he can pinch you back, “I’m going to steal your deodorant and cologne, by the way.”

Jake waited until you disappeared down the hallway and heard the bathroom door shut before slowly walking over to your duffle bag. He didn’t want to suspect you any more than Yunjin did. But Yunjin’s story from last night wasn’t adding up. Your actions weren't adding up. The story you told him wasn’t adding up. Nothing added up. The puzzle pieces weren’t fitting no matter how hard Jake tried to fit them in place.

Jake took a quick glance down the hallway then back at your duffle, his hands moving on their own as he reached for the zipper and slowly opened the bag. Jake’s eyes widened as he stared inside the bag, biting at his lip to keep any deep breaths from escaping and alerting you. He forced himself to take a couple of calm breaths before looking deeper into the bag.

The police report he had asked you multiple times for along with the earring from the crime scene in a ziplock bag was found. That wasn’t all. A matching earring was found in the bag and to Jake’s dismay, the ghost face mask and black suit sat inside. Jake picked up the ziplock and matching earring, staring at them and finally realizing where he’d seen them before: in your ears. Jake dropped the ziplock and earring back in and with shaky hands he picked up the ghost face mask. Why did you have these items? It was a stupid question to even ask himself. Jake knew exactly why you had these items. He knew and still tried to come up with any excuse as to why. But after seeing the contents of your bag, all the puzzle pieces fit all too perfectly.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s rude to go through people’s things, Jakey?” Before he could react, a knife was pressed to his neck, and your arm wrapped around his waist, “Didn’t think you were the snooping type. I expected more from you.”

You stood on your tiptoes to reach his ear, your breath sending chills down his spine. Any doubts Jake had about you were now long gone and out the window. You are ghost face. You’re the killer.

“Keeping secrets is also very rude,” Jake retorts, dropping the mask back in the bag, “We’re partners, there should be no secrets with us,” Jake swallowed, “But I figure you already knew that I knew. Because why else would you leave your bag for me to snoop in.”

You giggle, wrapping your arm even tighter against his waist and pressing the knife more into his skin, “Hmm, can’t get nothing past you, can I Jakey?”

You traced your nose against his cheek, forcing him to tilt his head to the side at your touch, “Why?” he asked.

You continued to nuzzle your nose against his cheek, “Hmm why did I do it?” you giggle, “You’ll need to be a bit more specific.”

Jake swallowed, “Everything.”

You giggle again, “Because it’s fun.” It was a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good girl act because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play this part, all to keep my secret well, a secret. This is all just fun and games to me, Jake.”

“And that’s why you joined our team,” he growled, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.”

You shrug, “I thought it would spice things up a bit, truly. Yeah working on the inside made it so much easier for me to keep my secret and tamper with evidence. It covered my tracks very well,” you gritted your teeth, “Until you started picking up on. Every. Fucking. Thing!” you hissed against his ear, almost losing your balance on your tiptoes, “You made it so much harder to keep my tracks covered. Picking apart every single fucking thing with each murder case. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me. That was until you started poking your perfect nose into my fucking business. Jake, don't think I didn’t know that you tore apart the damn office looking for the police report before showing up at my doorstep? Or that you talked to Yunjin after I strictly told you to not to?”

Jake chuckled, “You have the office and our phones bugged.” Knowing that information should surprise him, but at this point nothing does.

You smirked and pressed your cheek against his, “Smart boy! Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?”

Jake went still, “You were going to kill her, weren’t you YN?”

You giggled, “Yes I was,” his body went cold, “It would have been a pity, truly, to kill off my best friend all because she also stuck her nose where it didn’t belong.”

Jake looked back into the bag at the ziplock containing the broken earring, “You fucked up and went back to your earring.”

You pressed the knife tighter against his throat, “Shut the fuck up!” you growled, “That asshole fought me instead of taking what he deserved! Didn’t even realize my earring was ripped out of my fucking ear until I fled the scene after murdering them both and felt the blood dripping down my neck. I had to clean myself up so fast and knew I had to find where it broke off. Having to trace my steps throughout the whole park and go back to the crime scene to see her standing there. Had to ditch my bag behind a tree and slide my knife into my jeans, preparing to murder my best friend.”

Jake scoffed, “All to keep your fucking secret.”

“Watch it, Jakey,” you hissed, “You have a knife to your throat, remember?”

Jake clenched his jaw, “He fought you right? Probably accidentally knocked off your mask and saw your face. You acted too hastily and sliced his throat, but not quick enough before he was yanking at your earring.”

You nodded, a wide smile on your face, “Nothing gets past you, Jakey. You’d really make a good detective someday.”

Jake needed to turn you in. He needed to get out of here safely and turn you in before you could commit any more crimes and hurt any more people. Seventeen. You’ve murdered seventeen people and probably more than that before you took on the ghost face persona.

You pressed your breasts against his back, “You know,” you whisper, “I’ve dreamt about doing this with you, my knife being pressed to your throat,” you completely pressed the front of your body against his backside, “It’s really fucking hot.”

It was now or never. Jake was bigger than you, he could easily take you on maybe. You did take on TWO hockey players alone. But Jake felt like he still stood a chance. Mostly if he catches you off guard.

Jake leaned into you, feeling you struggle to keep upright on your tiptoes, and grabbed both your wrists, quickly twisting your wrist with the knife, “FUCK!” you shout, dropping the knife to the floor. Jake quickly kicked it from in front of him and twisted your arms and body around, making a quick move to press you face-first against the wall.

You wiggled in his strong grip, clenching your jaw tightly as you attempted to break free, “Let me go!” he caught you off guard and now you were paying that price.

“Stop fighting me!” he snapped, pushing you further against the wall and keeping his chest pressed to your back, “Turn yourself in!”

You chuckled, taking a couple of deep breaths in. Acting fast and wrapping your left leg around his and pulling at his knee, forcing it to bend. You used all your strength and pushed back at him, sending him to his ass on the floor and getting out of his grip.

You climbed in his lap and pressed him to the floor, using one hand to pin his arms above his head and reaching for the knife with the other and placing it back to his neck. Jake was so in shock by your strength and quick thinking that it took him by surprise. Guess you both know how to outsmart the other.

All Jake could do was breathe deeply and stare up at your beautiful face. Your beautifully killer face.

You licked your tongue, tilting your head to the side, “You look so handsome, all underneath me like this.” You relaxed your legs and straddled him, feeling your arousal pool in your panties. It turned you on so bad seeing him under you like this with your weapon so close to his throat. You’ve only been able to dream of this. Dreamed what he’d look like under you and how he’d sound. This definitely exceeded your expectations. What made it even better? Feeling how hard he was getting against you and the look he was giving you? So full of anger? Your panties were soaked.

Jake could feel your arousal seeping into his pants, trying hard to not be affected by it but his cock betrayed him. Jake also has dreamt what it would look and feel like to be underneath you. To feel your body moving against his. He just didn’t think it would be under these circumstances. So he chose to be angry, “Do your panties always get so wet when you’re killing someone?” Jake spat, the fire in his eyes burning.

You tilt your head to the other side, “You aren’t afraid of me?”

Jake lifted his head, staring down at you, “Why the fuck would I be afraid of someone who gets wet by killing people?”

You laugh, rolling your hips against his clothed hard cock. Loving the way he struggled to keep quiet and calm, “Babe, you’re the only one I’ve ever got wet for. The others were just killings to kill. But you, Jake? You just do something to me.”

From the very first day of seeing Jake on campus, you wanted nothing more than to have his buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to ride him so hard as you made cuts to his skin and watch as he moaned and bled out. Wanted to feel him cum so deep and make you his.

You had more than just one reason to join the team than to hide your secret. You wanted to get closer to him. Get to know him and fuck him so good and kill him right after. You weren’t expecting your plan to be pushed up so soon. You wanted Jake afraid of you as you made the killing blow. You weren’t expecting him to look at you with such anger, so unafraid.

You leaned down, being nearly inches away from his beautiful face, pressing the knife harder against his neck, “You get me so wet,” you rocked your heat against him. Jake’s composure failed him, his mouth falling slack and a small moan left his lips. The effect you had on him was obvious, you knew it too.

Jake couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t crushing on you. He’s had heart eyes for you since the first day you walked into the office. How couldn’t he? You are perfect. Still was even with you sitting on top of him with your knife to his throat.

Jake relaxed his body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it and get it over with.”

You smiled, “Want me to?” You released his hands and as if on instinct, he moved them to your thighs. You slide the knife from his neck and to his shirt, looping your fingers with the collar and pressing the knife into the fabric, cutting a line and using your hands to rip the shirt in two, revealing his toned chest and abs. You bit the inside of your cheek.

Jake smirked, “Like what you see?”

His words drew you back in. Tracing the tip of the knife down his and abs, tracing out their outline, “Where should I start then?”

Any ounce of willpower Jake had was gone. He wanted you. Now. He squeezed your thighs and lifted his head up, closing in those few inches and pressing his lips to yours, taking in the sweet taste of your vanilla chapstick and the softness of your lips. You rock against him again, making him moan into your mouth, “Start by taking your clothes off and rid me of the rest of mine,” he whispered.

You giggle against his lips and pull away, setting the knife down, “Yeah?” Jake nodded, sliding his hands from your thighs to the edge of your shirt, sneaking his fingers underneath and moving up, tracing the tips of his fingers against your skin all the way up until your shirt was off and thrown off somewhere in the apartment.

Jake lifted his body up, pressing his chest to yours and flattening his palms to your back as he pulled you in for another kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat and unclasping your bra, and tossing it to the side. You placed your hands on his chest and shoved him down, pinning him back against the floor, “Don’t be so impatient, Jakey,” you cooed, “Should have known you’d be into serial killers.”

Jake tugged at your shorts and kept eye contact with you as you unbuttoned his pants, lifting yourself up enough to roll his pants and boxers off his hips, Jake kicking out of them, leaving him completely bare to you. He kept tugging at your shorts, “Honey, please,” he begged.

“I know,” you hummed, loving how submissive he was underneath you. You lifted yourself up, finally letting him pull your shorts and panties off your body. Jake was in heaven, roaming his hands over every inch of your naked body, bucking up his hips against your heat wanting to feel some type of friction, “Wanna be inside me that bad?”

Jake nodded, biting at his lower lip, “Baby, please.”

“Can’t keep the puppy waiting, now can we?” Jake moaned out at the new nickname. His hands flew to your breasts and squeezed the plush between his fingers. Fuck, you loved how he looks right now. Deciding you kept him waiting long enough, you took his length, pumping him a few times, and lined the tip to your entrance, “You ready, pup?” he nodded, biting his lower lip. He needed to be inside you.

You slide yourself down him, gasping out in pleasure at the stretch his cock gave you, his tip kissing your cervix. Jake moaned out at the feeling of you wrapped around him, his hands moving down to your waist, squeezing tightly, “fuck honey,” Jake hissed, his heart rate speeding up faster once you take the knife back in your hands, “you feel so fucking good and you’re just sitting there.”

You slowly rocked your hips against him, tracing the knife against his bicep. Oh, how badly did you want to cut him open and see his blood drip down his body. Jake’s moans filled his apartment, hands pushing your hips down harder against him as you rode him, slowly picking up your pace. Hearing him beg for your sex puts you on such an ego trip. He was putty in your hands. You wanted nothing more than to make a complete mess out of him as he cums deep inside you.

You started bouncing on his cock and making Jake tilt his head back against the floor and arch his back up, hands sure enough leaving bruises against your waist from his grip. He was a moaning mess. And you fucking loved it.

You placed one hand against his chest, pushing his back flat to the floor and using it as leverage to fuck him faster. You used this opportunity to dig the knife into the skin of his bicep, slowly making a cut.

Jake hissed through his teeth, feeling the small amount of blood drip down his arm. He pushed himself up in a sitting position, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist and hands now pressed to your back, “Keep moving.” he moaned against your neck and you obeyed the pup.

Jake was losing his mind feeling you riding him, brain going fuzzy at the mixture of your pussy and the blood dripping down his arm. But he loved it. Was so addicted to it.

“Cut me again,” he begged, biting your neck and sucking hard.

You yelped at how hard he bit, cutting another line underneath the first wound but a bit deeper.

He hissed against your skin, releasing his mouth and licking at the bruise, kissing down your chest and popping one of your nipples into his mouth, licking, biting, and sucking at the sensitive bud. Twirling his tongue around it and loving the moans that escaped your lips with each stroke of the muscle against your nipple. You threw your head back, hands gripping tightly against his shoulders as you kept up the pace of fucking yourself against his cock.

“Deeper,” he groans against your breasts, “Cut me deeper,”

You chuckled, “Your fucking crazy.”

Jake released your tit and attached your lips to his, hands roaming to your ass, “Says the serial killer.”

You pressed the tip of your knife to the back of his shoulder, “Why are you afraid of me, hmm?” you pressed the knife in and he hissed, dropping his face in your neck, “I could kill you right now.”

Jake pushed you harder against him, his cock rubbing harder against your cervix, “I have my own secrets.”

You moved the knife up, cutting a deep perfect line across his shoulder, the smell of his blood filling your senses, “Tell me your secrets, puppy.”

Jake chuckled, placing open mouth kisses on your neck, his head spinning from the blood loss, “You’re my stacker, don’t you already know them all?”

You hummed, watching the red liquid fall down his back and pool on his hardwood floor, “I only know what you’ve texted out or physically spoken,” you licked the shell of his ear and whispered, “Tell me anyway.”

Jake felt a surge of power, pushing you off him and flipping you over, sending the knife dropping to the floor and pressing your face against the floor and ass up in the air. He didn’t hesitate to slide his cock back deep into your pussy, his hips making contact with your ass, “Why should I tell you?” He smirked.

You shook at his sudden dominance over you, a smirk filling to your face as well, “I’m curious,” you cooed, rocking your hips back and forth against him, “Fuck me, Jake.”

He kept a firm grip against your neck and hip, pulling himself out to the tip and quickly shoving himself back in, fucking you so hard and fast. Jake flung his head back, mouth slack and moaning out in pure pleasure at the feeling of your cunt sucking him so well. Your moans also filled his apartment, only making Jake pump into you faster.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” Jake felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that he even admitted it. Felt even crazier to admit it to the person he was fucking ruining. To a fucking murderer, “I’m so obsessed with you, honey.”

You bit down on your lip, fingers clawing at the floor as the pleasure he was making you feel. And now knowing he was obsessed with you made this all the more enjoyable, mostly since you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. You were fucking crazy, Jake knew that. But everything about you drew him in and made him want you even more.

“Say you love me,” Jake demanded, “Tell me you’re fucking obsessed with me too.”

You were in love with him too. It was crazy, but who cared? Not when he was fucking you into oblivion and had zero fucks that you murdered seventeen people and could very well murder him at any moment.

The knot of your stomach was threatening to snap, “Jake,” you moaned his name, your hot breath fogging the wooden floor, “Pup, I’m going to cum.”

Jake took a fist full of your hair and yanked you up, your back now pressing against his chest, “Admit your feelings and obsession with me and I’ll let you cum, honey.” He kept pounding into you relentlessly, showing no signs of slowing down until you clenched around him and he came to a full stop, “What did I fucking say?”

You swallowed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I’m in love with you,” you gasped out for air, “I’m so obsessed with you and have been ever first I laid my eyes on you.”

Jake smirked, “Such a good girl for me.”

He fucked back into you faster than before, your mouth going slack and nothing but moans escaping.

“Pup!” you cried, reaching your arms up and tangling your fingers in his hair, “I’m going to cu-cum.”

“Please,” he moaned, feeling his orgasm fast approaching, “Cum for me, baby. Let's cum together,” he kissed your temple, “Fucking cum around my cock, make a mess of me.”

A few more thrusts and you came around him following Jake’s orgasm a couple of seconds later, his want cum filling you whole and some leaking out your hole and pooling on the floor.

“Fuck,” he breaths against your ear, “Sex with you was so much better than I imagined it would be.” Jake was fucking insane. But that’s what made you love him so damn much, “Only imagined how good your cunt would feel wrapped around me and how it would feel to cum inside you. Holy fuck, honey.”

You smiled and rested the side of your face against his. The sex was so much better than you imagined too. The only thing that was missing would be killing him. But how could you? You loved him deeply. But that didn’t stop your want to see how beautiful he’d bleed out for you. You looked for the knife, but Jake was too quick.

“Awe babe,” he cooed, pressing the knife to your throat, his free hand grasping your hands and pressing them to your stomach, “You think you could pull a fast one on me?” he bit the shell of your ear and chuckled, “Here’s how things are going to go now,” he releases your hands and cupped your cheeks, pushing your head back to look at him, the knife pressing deeper, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut about these cases and let me take full control over it. You’ll sit in the office and look pretty while I close out the case and get rid of the evidence. You’ll give up this life as ghost face or else I’ll bury you six feet under myself, got it?”

You swallowed, your arousal forming again, clenching around him.

“You’d keep this a secret? All for me, pup?”

Jake smirked, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, “All for you baby, but do you understand me?”

You nodded, not being able to say no to him. Not when he’s flipped the tables against you. He was fucking insane to keep this a secret when he has every opportunity to call the police and get you arrested. But it’s the fact that he is insane that he won’t do that. Not when he loves you oh so damn much. Jake was surprised he was so willing to drop the murder cases, all to keep you from harms way. He didn’t care if whatever this relationship was now was toxic. He just wanted you.

Jake kissed you again, slowly sliding his tongue down your throat and sliding himself in and out of you slowly until you came around his cock again.

Oh, what did Jake get himself into?

—perm tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina

@jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo

@addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park

@vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586

@wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld

@pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee

@sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki

—tags: @hearts4itoshi @jennifestival @neosexuals @i58ssj @seunghancore

@emi-en @jentlecoeur @seonghwa10ve @yzzyhee @xenkimmie

@niniissus @minjaexvz @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy

#jake bby #jake sim #sim jake #sim jake x reader #reader x jake sim #sim jaeyun x reader #reader x sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #ghostface!jake #yeonzzzn writing #ghostface au

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astayinwonderland · 7 months

Text

"After all, you're my wife." | Choi San

pairings: san x f.reader

genre: smut | fluff (if you squint)| +18 minors DNI

this is a mix between a poll and a request by @elfemi

summary: you marry san to make an alliance, and the agreement includes to live separate lives, but both of you seem to want each other (mafia!au)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, san calls you his little pet, cursing, degrading, praising, unprotected sex (pls no), cum play, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of violence (not towards reader) and drugs -- lmk if I forgot anything

Enjoy! (;

There are two things you have very clear. Your dad is dead and you fucking hate Choi San. Inheriting the position of mafia leader was your birthright, your dad raised you to be that woman. However, not everyone wants to see a woman in such a powerful position, to their misfortune, you were the late mafia boss’s only child.

When your father fell ill, you knew it was time to get your position as leader and boss secure. That meant allying with someone rich and powerful. You were surprised that all eligible bachelors were too old, too young, or not powerful enough.

Theo was standing behind you as your eyes scanned the guests your dad’s most trusted assistant invited for a ‘get-together and mingle with the corrupt elite of the country. He had become like an uncle to you, a genuine part of the family. With his kind eyes, but cold demeanor, he is the perfect person to have your back.

“What about him?” Theo said.

“Ugh no…”

“You can’t keep saying no to everyone. Choose or I will choose for you tonight,” your dad finally spoke. Eyes not looking at you. This is not his favourite idea ever, but it was necessary.

You couldn’t picture yourself with any of these men, but it was your duty. So you tried your best to be somewhat amicable and get to like at least one of them. With your wine glass in hand, you decided to talk to your pursuers. They would throw themselves at your feet, showering with compliments, showing off their riches, and to be honest being completely obnoxious. This is not what you needed. You needed someone who you could make a deal with and live separate lives while keeping the façade of a marriage.

Shit, this was going to be hard.

The door opened and at that moment you knew something was off. The entire room fell silent when the man with broad shoulders and shiny black hair walked in. His face was expressionless, with high cheekbones, and not a trace of sympathy. You would think he would come to greet you, that’s the reason why he is there, but he just bows in your direction and walks over to the bar.

The conversation around you resumed, whispers commented on the politician’s son. His father was a powerful drug lord who controlled one of the borders. No wonder he has so much influence. Your brain made a quick list of pros and cons, and so it seemed Choi San would be the right choice for you.

___________________________________

San was aware his father was a criminal but when he was pushed to marry you, he did everything he could think of to change his father’s mind. He begged he asked to be sent away, hell, he even asked for physical punishment. But Mr. Choi was a greedy, greedy man, and he saw in you an opportunity to be even greedier, richer, and more powerful. This was truly the perfect alliance.

Your dad’s body wasn’t ever cold yet when San got the call and the whole marriage circus began to play. At least the ceremony would be short and he would get to move into his room in your mansion and get it over with. San only met you that one time, but he remembered very well how you looked. In one word, terrifying. You would make the perfect fake wife.

San watched you walk toward him dressed in black, a dress that covered your legs right above the knees but left little to his imagination from the way the cleavage showed off your round and soft breasts. He just politely nodded at you. At the end of the day, there was nothing to celebrate, your dad was dead and he had to pretend to be your loving husband for the rest of his life or until something or someone killed him.

With no kiss to seal the deal, San just signed the papers and tried to give you a smile, which was awkward.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said.

You returned the smile, less awkwardly, and patted his shoulder. For a split second, San saw something in you, maybe kindness, but that was all forgotten when you two started living together.

_____________________________________

“Yeah… fuck, don’t fucking stop, don't fucking—” your voice bounces on the walls, you are so close.

“Ah.. ah!” the deep voice behind you moans as he cums way too soon.

San closes his eyes across the hallway. Why do you have to be so fucking loud? To be honest, he wishes he could shut you up once and for all. Moving in with you was necessary, he understands that, part of the arranged marriage and your agreement. However, San never imagined how opinionated and bossy you could be. One thing was your role as the new mafia leader, another thing was you ordering him around the house like some unloved pet.

Tonight, nonetheless, San wouldn’t take that anymore, so he did something unexpected. He left his bedroom and went looking for you. Was he out of his mind? Probably, you specifically instructed to ‘stay the fuck away’ and since your marriage was fake, you could find carnal pleasure with anyone you wanted.

San walked out of his bedroom. His pajama pants hanging low, his shirt forgotten somewhere in his room. He still wore his reading glasses and his black hair was wet, and slicked back. Your bedroom door abruptly opens and an unfortunate man flies out of your room. He is in his underwear trying to flee the scene grabbing his clothes as your upset persona watches not too far from the door. San’s curious eyes find your figure, and my oh my, what on earth are you wearing?

If San didn’t know any better he would be jealous of the thin piece of clothing that gets to touch your soft skin. You have no shame as you stand there in front of your husband. The peach, sheer dress dances loosely on your body, however, it shows off your beautiful body. San can see your nipples hardening under such a provocative piece of clothing as his eyes scan even further south to find the core of your intimacy unclothed.

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask.

“N-no, I was just… taking a break from reading. I couldn't focus,” he crosses his arms across his chest and something in you wonders how you never paid any close attention to those broad shoulders and itty bitty tiny waist.

“Was I being too loud? Apologies.”

“Not at all, I believe you can be louder… with the right encouragement.”

The audacity. He can’t speak to you like this… he has never done something so daring. Your heart races and a familiar heat travels from your chest down to your legs.

“Go to your room, San,” you scold him and close the door.

San rolls his eyes. He has had enough of you bossing him around as if he was your puppy or servant. So on this night, Choi San decided something. He will make you see him for what he is, an important part of your alliance, a capable, fierce man, and your husband.

______________________________

The days pass and you haven’t seen much of San. You haven’t seen him at all. Is not a surprise not to see him or know of him for a day or two, however, it’s been 9 days since you had your little after-hours encounter. You sit in front of various members of the cartel and trusted members of the mafia your father once led. Theo, your father’s favourite and now your confidant, continues to sit to the right of the boss, you.

“We are losing territory, it’s like we don’t have enough people from our side…” one protests.

“The matter is getting resolved. I suspect there is someone infiltrated in one of our negotiations or maybe lines have been tapped–”

You are cut mid-sentence when the doors are almost torn from their hinges and your husband enters the room. He is agitated, pulling a beaten man by the collar of his crimson-stained shirt, the same crimson colour that decorates San’s knuckles and hands. The stranger is pushed and kicked to your feet, and you almost feel pity for his bruised face.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced, love,” San starts, leaving that last word resonating in your head. “This little rat here has something to tell us, don’t you?” San walks over to him and pulls him by the root of his hair making his eyes meet yours. “Look at my wife when you speak, scum, or do I need to break the rest of your fingers one by one?”

And now you see it, his left hand, disfigured, broken bones making his muscles swell under his skin.

“Speak,” you command.

“I– I know who’s been feeding information to Viggiano.”

As soon as you hear the name you stand from your chair and grab his face.

“You better start talking before you lose your tongue as well,” you look at the disheveled man, then back at San. His eyes have such an intense glare, you’ve never seen him like this. It makes the hairs on your back rise.

“Pl-please no, I–” as the man stutters he keeps looking past you, which makes you turn to see Theo standing right there. The kindness in his eyes was now replaced by threat and fear.

“No…” a small gasp leaves your lips.

“You are never going to be the right person to lead, everyone knows–” Theo starts.

Slap! You can’t believe the speed at which your body moved to hit your so-called uncle across the face. Two of your guards grab him by the arms, waiting for your command, but San is quicker. He bumps the disheveled man’s head with the table, knocking him unconscious. Like a predator to its prey, he walks towards Theo. You don’t see it coming but one punch from San and Theo is coughing blood.

“That’s enough, San. You can go now.”

San is in disbelief, but he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you and your company know he is indeed annoyed by your decision.

“I want his nose and ears cut off, for being a liar and an eavesdrop, send them to Viggiano,” you walk towards the door. “Sleeping beauty over there loses his tongue. I want them both dead by midnight… oh and let this be an example of what happens if you betray your boss,” you finally exit the room, listening to the ‘yes ma’ams’ behind you.

The night seems to be the longest one you’ve ever lived. This is not the first tough decision you make, but this is the first time someone close betrays you, and it hurts. It hurts bad, so you cry in the loneliness of your room. You curse. You throw things around and you scream. Everyone has been instructed not to bother you, except for one person.

“May I come in?” San’s voice is soft outside the door.

“Leave me alone!”

San enters your room regardless and nothing stops him from getting to you. He holds your wrists.

“You need to stop bossing me around, I know you are upset but I am not your puppy or your slave.”

“You disappeared for 9 days and came home with a big surprise. Great! But you mean nothing to me, Choi San, and I mean nothing to you! Just get out before I call the guards.”

“Nothing to you? Nothing to me!?” he is even more shocked than before and you see in his eyes that look he gave you when you got married but now it is enhanced. It is sympathy. It is agony. It is lust, pain, and love. Deep down you know he means something to you or you would have him dragged out of your room in this very minute.

You don’t get to answer when San’s lips are already on yours and you find yourself kissing this handsome man back. This handsome man is legally your husband, but you have never kissed before. His lips are hungry and wanting, making you thirst for him as your tongues collide and his needy hands cup your ass.

“See how lovely it can be when you don’t boss me around and you shut up.”

Fuck.

The wetness between your legs just grows and you have no words to answer back. His mouth is on your delicate neck, oh he needs to make a work of art here, your skin looks like it could bruise easily. San sucks on various points, his tongue lapping over the marks he leaves behind. Your moaning goes from soft to breathy and impatient. One of your hands reaches under your nightgown and San slaps it away.

“No, love, you don’t get to relieve yourself until I fucking say so. Now be a good pet and strip for me, would ya?”

You take off your clothes as fast as you can, pathetic. A week ago, San was just the most annoying housemate, a convenient inconvenience, but now you’re here naked in front of him. His eyes are dark scanning your body, planning how he is going to ruin you, and you are going to let him do as he pleases.

“On your knees.”

And you drop to your knees looking up at his adoring face with a wicked smile. He lowers his pants just enough for you to see his cock already leaking for you.

“Such a good pet, would you help me out?”

You continuously nod and pull his pants further down. His cock is beautiful, perfect, just like him. Slightly curved, just the right thickness, and a bit longer than average. You spit on it and start with your hand, jerking him off, up and down, up and down. Without interrupting the pace you lick his balls and earn the most sensual moan from San’s lips. So you put your mouth to work. You put him between your wet needy lips and push him in, sucking, tasting all of him. San’s breath is heavier when you start bopping your head up and down. He suddenly grabs your hair and takes control, fucking your face and watching you take it. To his eyes, you were already so beautiful, but this is something else.

“See how beautiful you look with your mouth shut, so obedient, now be a good wife and take this cock.”

You moan at his words, how can they make you so horny when you had no plan of sleeping with him. The vibrations in your throat send San spinning and he is too close to cuming, but not yet. He pulls out of your mouth and helps you up, and with a slap to your ass, he takes you to bed. He signals you to straddle him. You normally don’t like eye contact with your sexual partners but there is something about San that makes it different.

“Fuck yourself on my cock and I only want to hear how good it feels, okay?”

You sit on his cock slowly, letting yourself adjust to his length and girth. When you start to bounce on top of him, San has to use all of his willpower not to drill into you like some kind of wild animal, he can do that any other time if you let him. The way you are making him feel is ecstatic. Your tits moving up and down so close to his face he has to suck on them. The feeling of his tongue on your nipples makes you want to cry for pleasure. You let out a high-pitched moan.

“Words, little pet, I wanna hear them– fuck,” San throws his head back as your pace becomes quicker. He slaps your ass, once, twice.

“I love it, I fucking love it, San… fuck. I like it right there, so fucking perfect. I want you to fucking split me in half,” you just let words out, words derived from the ecstasy of having his cock buried deep inside you.

And that was the queue for San to let go and fuck you like he wanted. Like you wanted. He now fucks you faster than the pace you set earlier. His hands bruising your hips, the skin-to-skin contact adding even more passion, and his eyes… His eyes on yours making you feel his, making you feel safe, making you feel you can let go and–

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna cum… fuckfuckfuck!”

And San holds you while your body trembles and your high makes your brain explode into a thousand little particles of pure lust and sin. Fuck the way your heart races, you can hear it in your ears. He puts you on the bed and your reaction time doesn’t catch up with your brain when your legs are wrapped around his waist and he is entering you.

“San…” you whisper.

He stops. He is unsure if this is too much and he is willing to stop.

“San, San, San…” you keep saying his name like a plead, a prayer to the heavens as your hips move forward. You want more.

“Bet. No one. Ever. Fucked you. Like. This.” San says between thrusts so deep you can feel him in your cervix. “Look at you all fucked out, my obedient pet, taking my cock so well, wanting to cum again. Is that what you want?”

You nod desperately, anything for another intense orgasm with him. You only want this with him. His hands touching you, his moans on your ears, his voice commanding you to cum again and again.

This time San fucks you slower, you can feel every inch of him inside you as you clench around his erection encouraging him to keep going. He grabs your thighs to pull you even closer to him, angling your hips higher making you not say his name, but scream it.

“Yes, fuck, keep saying my name just like that.”

So you did as he entered you, ruining you for any other man who dared match him. You were his, the man who saved your life and fucks you into oblivion. Now you were close, so close to your climax and you needed to cum like oxygen itself.

“You don’t get to cum without me, hold it like the good pet that you are,” he says struggling to make a coherent sentence, he was very close too.

You try hard not to cum before he does, but looking at him sweaty, chasing his high, fucking you as no one has done before does something to you. Your hands squeeze your tits together while your eyes close, trying to last longer. San could have combusted with that sight alone.

“Cum– cum now… fuck!”

The tightness in your belly is now free as you both cum. It is so fucking loud that your head hurts. His seed spills deep inside you and if you felt full before, now it’s even better, your legs feel like gelatin. San gently places them down. You are thinking he will probably leave you to go back to his room but he does the unexpected.

His thumb is over your extremely sensitive clit and two of his slender fingers push his cum back inside you. You scream closing your legs. He smiles.

“You need to take it all, love,” that’s it… the dom session is over and he uses that word that makes your heart flutter.

“I can’t.”

San licks your clit, tasting the mix of both of your releases. His fingers thrust in slowly, slightly angling up until you squirm under his touch.

“Ah, right there? You like it there, love?”

“Mmmm-ugh yesfuck…ah–” you babble.

San continues his tortuous pace until he latches once again his mouth to your clit. You see stars, you don’t know how your body is taking this, it is so fucking good, he is so fucking good. The way he keeps you on edge and makes you want more and more. Fuck, you can’t even think and you feel your body about to orgasm but something is different.

“San, San… stop. I’m gonna–” and you squirt, drenching him in your juices.

“That’s a good girl.” He licks your entrance once last time before collapsing beside you, his arms open inviting you to rest on his broad and hard chest.

“You are not allowed to sleep in the other room anymore. From now on you sleep here, okay?”

“You’re ordering me around, but I will follow your command. After all, you are my wife,” he hugs you tightly.

__________________________________

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨ —this took me forever but I am in love with this san! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be part of the taglist.

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

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Set The World On Fire

Chapter Ten

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: smut! P in v! Oral, female receiving

Mafia AU

1.1K

Series Masterlist

Norris was dead.

It didn't come as a surprise to anybody. He had been sick for so long, most were surprised he hadn't died before this.

Lando knew what the next steps were. He had a member of his staff call the Sainz house, informing his sister of what had happened. He put things in place, had people do things for him, while he went to her apartment.

She opened the door the second he knocked. "Hey there," she said to him, wearing a smile as she let Lando into her apartment.

The smile he returned was incredibly weak. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked into her apartment and sat on her couch. "Do you want something to eat?" She offered.

Lando shook his head, reaching for her. She allowed herself to be pulled onto the sofa, pulled into his lap. Lando pressed his face to her shoulder and sucked in deep breaths. "Lan," she whispered as she ran her hands through his curls. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer immediately, tightening his grip on her. He didn't cry; heads of families don't cry. But he sucked in deep breaths. "Sorry," he said against her shoulder. He didn't pull away, but she didn't want him to.

"What's going on?" She whispered, running her hands through his curls.

"My dad," he answered quickly.

In her mind she ran through everything that she knew about Lando's father, which wasn't a lot. She knew that he was sick. Suddenly she assumed the worst.

"He's dead."

It wasn't even what Lando was most upset about. But he couldn't tell her any of that, not yet. Norris. He was the new Norris. The new head of the family. If she wasn't already, he was about to put her in a world of danger.

"Shit, Lan," she whispered, pressing him closer. "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "I've already started making arrangements for the funeral," he said, gently pulling away. "My sister has been told and she should be flying home soon."

"Do you want me there?" She asked, dragging her nails up and down his arm.

Lando shook his head. He stared at her for a minute and kissed her.

For the few days leading up to the funeral, Lando stayed at hers. He stood out in the hallway while taking phone calls, but she thought nothing of it.

On the day of the funeral, Lando was reluctant to leave the bed. He laid awake, his arms around her as he kissed her shoulder. The way Lando crawled out of bed, it was gentle, careful not to wake her up. He got dressed quickly and kissed her forehead before leaving the bedroom.

Lando looked around the apartment as he tied his shoes. There was no guarantee when he'd next be able to see her, no telling when he'd be laying with her between her sheets.

No part of Lando wanted to leave the apartment. No part of him wanted to go back to his house. Because it wasn't home anymore, was it? She was home.

For three days Lando didn't see her. For three days he was at his house, sorting through paperwork. There wasn't much he had to do to take over from his father; Lando was pretty much the head of the family already.

His men addressing him as Norris took a lot of getting used to. More than once he found himself outside, talking to his mothers headstone, talking to his step-mothers headstone.

His mother didn't know about Y/N. He hadn't had a chance to tell her that he'd found somebody he loved. Somebody he didn't want to bring into the Norris family.

For two weeks, Lando couldn't see much of her. He kept in contact with her for those two weeks, texting her and calling her when he could.

It wasn't easy. There was nothing more he wanted than to be in her apartment.

The first time he told her he loved her was over the phone.

He hated it, hated he couldn't say it to her face before kissing her and laying her in her bed, kissing along her collarbones as he thrust into her. All he had was the image of her, laying before him with her legs spread.

But then, everything went wrong.

Lando had always thought his house was secure. It had to be. His father had heightened the security after his mother had died. It was a fortress, he thought.

So, why the fuck was he hearing gunshots.

The moment he heard the first gunshot, Lando was on the floor. He pulled out his own gun and crawled under the bed. More gunshots, slowly getting closer.

He needed to get out. He needed to get out now.

For a second, Lando shut his eyes. He breathed through his nose, thinking. He had to get out. How did he get out?

Lando crawled towards the window. Slowly he looked out into the garden. Nobody was out there. Not whoever was shouting, not even his own men were out in the garden. As quietly as he could, Lando pushed open his bedroom window and climbed out.

His gun was between his teeth as he climbed his way to the roof. His hands were clammy, his grip slipping as he climbed. Several times he almost slipped, but Lando kept going. He had to keep going, had to get out before somebody came in and shot him.

From the roof, he could see everything. He could see the van they arrived in, could see the driver tapping his gun against the steering wheel. Lando flattened himself against the chimney as he heard the last of the shots ring out.

There was a good ten minutes where he was sat up there, sweat dripping down his face. He was so incredibly still, barely breathing against the bricks of the chimney.

And suddenly, people dressed all in black were running out of his, jumping into the van and driving away. He didn't dare move, not until the van disappeared. Even then, he was still. He waited, made sure he truly was alone, before he climbed down.

As he climbed down from the roof, his gun slipped. He stilled, eyes shutting as he took a moment to gather himself. "Fuck," he couldn't help but hiss. But the gun didn't go off, and nobody came out to investigate the noise of it dropping to the floor. "Fuck."

He climbed all the way to the ground and immediately took off running. Lando didn't bother to go inside of his house, didn't bother to get any of his things, to check on his men, or to even get a car. No, he started running.

Running back to her.

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demieyesore · 2 months

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Tear You Apart - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin's obsession with you is slowly taking over; He keeps hoping it'll just go away but quickly realizes that it won't.

Song inspo - "Tear you apart" by She wants revenge

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, No use of Y/n, AFAB!Reader, ... Cannibal!Anakin ... CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE OKAY ... He doesn't literally eat the reader tho, only sexually LMFAO. Anakin is a serial killer tho. Modern AU, College AU, Stalker!Anakin, Yandere!Anakin, Smoking (I don't smoke or do drugs so idk if I wrote it correctly but whatever) Some 18+ but it's really not full on smut lmfao, more like it's just known that they're doing it

A/N - Okay finally actually deciding to write because I keep thinking about Anakin and this song...

Requested - No

Word Count - 1.5k

Anakin Skywalker, a serial killer that hides behind the name "Darth Vader". He didn't choose this name for himself, it was given to him by the media after his first 3 murders. Well known for killing and eating his victims, people began to avoid leaving the house. The FBI were investigating the deaths, trying to find any trace of him.

They wouldn't ever find him. He knew that. He had been so careful to make sure that nothing lead the cops to him.

Or to you.

You are his everything. His world. All the murders are a symbol of his love for you. Everything he ate from his victims were something you had touched. If he didn't eat it, you didn't touch it. But that doesn't mean he didn't still take anything.

The first victim, a boy in your college class. He simply asked to barrow a pencil but when you gave him the writing utensil, Anakin immediately took notice of how your hand brushed against his.

His eyes narrowed at the frat guy's hand, his tongue poking at his inner cheek in annoyance and frustration.

Why would you touch him? He was dirty. All men are and you should be aware of that. You should be more careful about who you touch. Anakin would think in his mind, scolding you as he makes a note of who the douchebag was.

Two weeks later, he was found dead. His left hand missing and instead resting in Anakin's stomach. Of course from just the first victim, they couldn't assume he was actually eating the victims, they couldn't even be sure that this was a serial killer when there were no other deaths.

The second victim came about a month after that. In honor of the frat boy's passing, you and your friends went to a college party. This party was only about a week after the frat boy passed. You got a little too drunk, you could barely stand upright. What was Anakin supposed to do? Especially after he saw how handsy some guy was being with you? After he saw how he tried to lead you upstairs.

You unfortunately went with him, too drunk to fight back but that's okay! Anakin will take care of you like always.

Anakin saw how the sober party goer kissed you, he had to figure out how to protect you without drawing attention to himself.

He picked up a half empty red solo cup, standing by the staircase as he chucked the cup at your best friend. He swiftly walked away from the stairway, leaning against a doorframe as your best friend turned around.

She was clearly pissed, already a good sign for Anakin. She was scoping out the scenery, looking for who could have thrown the cup at her when she saw you making out against a wall with a dude that definitely was not your type. She stomped up the stairs, grabbing your wrist as she pulled you back downstairs and out of the party.

Anakin smiled to himself, holding a new cup with some kind of alcohol. His eyes drifted to the moron you were kissing. God how he wanted to kiss you too. Jealously spiked in his heart, his eyes darkening already trying to form a plan.

So three weeks later, same thing happened. Another guy found dead. He wasn't missing his hand this time, no it was something more personal.

His tongue.

The tongue that was practically shoved down your throat. He enjoyed cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, wanting him to know that this is what happens when you try to take advantage of someone who's drunk.

This pattern continued, making sure that the murders were far away enough from when you last interacted with the fucking losers.

I mean who would suspect you? Oh yeah, you gave a guy a pencil and he never gave it back? Such good motivation to kill someone.

Now of course, the second one could be motivation but you were so drunk that you didn't even remember it in the morning. And your best friend didn't say anything about it. Anakin would have known if she did, he has spyware installed on all your devices, recording devices in your dorm room and with how often he's watching you, he would of course know.

The other murders he committed were similar, anyone who came into contact with you that he disliked... a couple weeks or even months later, they'd end up dead.

No one put together that it was involved with you. I mean even you didn't. It wasn't like you were dating anyone, he didn't have to kill a boyfriend. Only small... inconveniences.

That old geezer at your job that kept harassing you? Dead, his eyes gouged out.

The girl at the movie theater that was an absolute bitch? She was on a fucking phone call during the whole movie. She was interrupting the date you and Anakin were on! It didn't matter to him that you didn't know you were on a date. It was a movie you were really looking forward to but the cunt couldn't keep her mouth shut. Yeah well, it's fine because she also ended up dead, her ears missing.

Nothing would come between you and Anakin. You may have only talked to him a couple of times, mainly to work on a project but it didn't matter. He knew you thought he was cute. He was watching you even before that.

Anakin didn't even want to like you as much as he does. When he first saw you, he felt a connection. Convinced himself that he was crazy. He would tell himself that he didn't need you. That he wouldn't give into his urges.

It became useless after a while. He was already hooked before you ever spoke to him.

But it solidified when you were stressing yourself out over an exam. You went outside, needing a smoke break. Anakin had been working on a scheme to be able to talk to you. Wanting to make sure how he felt about you before he took it too far.

He watched as you groaned, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and realizing none were left. You swore you had one more left, you rummaged through your bag looking for the last one when he tapped your shoulder.

You turned around, confused with a dazed look on your face when you saw him.

Anakin held out a pack to you. It was your favorite brand and you thanked him as you took one of the cigarettes.

You leaned towards him when he flicked his lighter on. He lit his first, pressing it between his lips as he towered over you slightly, his left hand holding the lighter on while his right hand protected the flame from any wind. Your cigarette ignited as you happily took an inhale of it.

Anakin knew for a fact that he would obsess over this for the next two days even when he told himself that it's only just a crush. It'll go away.

When you smiled up at him he had to repeat his little affirmations to himself, not wanting to be attached.

"It's just like all the others, it'll go away." He thought to himself.

He prayed for it to go away but his obsession just continued to grow.

I guess that's how you got here, underneath him. His obsession, his "crush" just never went away.

Anakin slowly invaded your life, not wanting to frighten you away. He may have eaten parts of people but it was just a metaphor for his love. Something he took a little too seriously.

He'd never hurt you, ever. Not unless he absolutely had to. But even then he wouldn't. He'd only just make threats.

You're too pure for him to hurt.

The only way he'd hurt you, was sexually.

He craved to hold you close, your skin pressed against him tight.

"Lie still, close your eyes..." Anakin would mumble against your lips, pulling himself away as he lined himself up with your entrance. He didn't want this to hurt you too badly.

He'd groan as he pushes himself into you. Thrusting into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size.

Anakin wanted this for so long, he couldn't help but to moan your name into the crevice of your neck as he sped up.

"So-" A whimper escaped his mouth before he finished his sentence.

"So lovely, you feel so right..." His soft breath against your collar bone, you could feel his beating heart in his chest.

He fucked into you deeper, a whisper fleeing his esophagus and into your eardrum.

"I want to fucking tear you apart."

Your hand brushed up against his, leaving it there. You told him how you felt, how much you loved him as you were both locked in a stare.

Anakin's movements slowed at your confession, taking a moment to process what you just said before his lips met your again.

You weren't sure of how he felt, whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last.

Either way, Anakin wanted you and this was bad. He wanted, wants, to do things to you. It was making him crazy.

A little crush turned into a like.

Anakin grabbed you by your hair, gripping it roughly and told you.

"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight."

#yandere anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #stalker!anakin #dark!anakin #perv!anakin #demieyesore

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thelargefrye · 4 months

Text

February Filth Fest : DAY TWO : CHEATING / CREAMPIE … mature one - shot

pairing : gangster!seongjoong x f!reader

genre : smut, high & low au, strangers to maybe lovers, pinch of angst if you squint

word count : 2.6k

warnings : language, cheating (your bf cheats on you so you cheat on him🤷‍♀️), so douche boyfriend, smoking, a little drinking, kind of fighting, little crying (but in a good way, promise)

smut warnings : unprotected sex, implied threesome, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)

honorary suffer tag : for my bestie braincell @sanjoongie

your boyfriend cheats on you, so you seek out the two most feared men in your district for revenge.

DAY ONE ↤ HiGH&LOW: MATZ ↦ DAY THREE

"you want us to do what?" seonghwa's eyes feel like they are piercing through your body as he stares down at you, eyebrow raised. you obviously surprised him, but he's too calculated to actually show that surprise. he's a feared leader within the sword distract, he can't afford to act surprised.

"i want you guys to help me get revenge on my boyfriend," you repeat yourself, showing him and his partner, hongjoong, that you are dead serious.

"revenge?" hongjoong says as he stands up to move towards you. he bends down to where you're eye level, an evil smirk overtaking his face. it makes you consider whether you should have even come here, but you can't back out now. that bastard of a boyfriend needs to pay. "what kind of revenge are you looking for doll?"

"he's cheating on me," you say looking at hongjoong and its his turn to raise an eyebrow at you this time. hongjoong turns his head to look at seonghwa, the eldest of the two clenching jaw as he rolls his neck. his 'matz' tattoo proudly on display as he does so and you can't help but to lick your lips.

seonghwa exudes a display of power that you have never truly experienced before, and that's probably what makes him so feared among all the different gangs. which was exactly why you wanted him and hongjoong to help you with this revenge.

"cheating, huh?" seonghwa says, reaching into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulling a pack of cigarettes. he takes one out before slotting it between his lips and effortlessly lighting it with his lighter. you note the metal and detailed design on his lighter, custom made.

"and how would you want to get this revenge, doll?" hongjoong asks, grabbing your chin and making you turn your attention to him.

seonghwa blows out a puff of smoke from his lips the smile time you look at hongjoong with a grin of your own. "i'm glad you asked."

the music was loud as you walked through the club. so loud that you could feel the bass vibrating through your entire body. the lights of the club were flashing a mix of vibrant colors and you almost started to strain your eyes.

and not to mention how packed it was in here, you rarely went clubbing for this very reason of not being a huge fan of packed crowds of sweaty, drunk people. usually you would have had someone's elbow in your ribs, but tonight was different. people parted the way like you were royalty.

well... it wasn't because of you, but the one who had their arm draped over you. you were pulled closely in seonghwa's side, your body leaning into his. hongjoong was leading the two of you, a lot of people moving out of there way and you noticed a few odd looks some club-goers gave you.

which you honestly wouldn't blame them. you were wrapped around one of the most dangerous and feared men in the city and walking through a club with two of them. you would give yourself a weird look too. but you really, you didn't have time to think about these people. there was only one person who needed to see you.

your douche soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

you soon found yourself in the vip section, looking down at the dance floor, your eyes scanning everywhere for your boyfriend. hongjoong came to stand next to you, arm around your shoulders as if he was also looking.

"do you see him?" he asks, and you're surprised you can hear him from how loud the music was.

"i don–

right as you're about to say no, that's when you spot him, wrapped around a girl as they grind against each other and it makes you cringe a little.

"right there! in the black button up," you say pointing at him and hongjoong lets out a chuckle as he pulls you against him.

"you could definitely do better than him, doll," he says. "the girl is pretty," he begins to add and you can't a wave of uneasiness crash over you, but before it could drag you under hongjoong adds, "but you're prettier. especially in this dress seonghwa picked out."

you turn to see him grinning at you and he cages you between the railing and himself. you run a hand down his chest, his bright orange fur coat standing out even against the flashing club lights. and you had to admit he was right, the sequin red dress that seonghwa picked out did not only make you look hot, but you felt like it too.

funny how these two men could make you feel something your boyfriend never could. your eyes flicker behind hongjoong to see seonghwa sitting on the leather seating, cigarette between his lips as he takes a long drag, his eyes locked on you and hongjoong. you felt a chill run down your spine and goosebumps cover your whole bond thanks to his stare alone.

"shall we go have fun now that we found him?" you ask hongjoong with a tilt of your head and hongjoong can't help but let out a small laugh.

"i knew there was a reason why i liked you, doll, that feistiness gets me going," he says, grin on his lips before he's leading you down the stairs.

like seonghwa, hongjoong was quick to drape his arm around you, showing you off as people parted for the two of you, mainly him. he lead the two of you over to the bar, the bartender immediately seeing hongjoong and coming over to get your orders. while you two waited, you looked around and spotted your boyfriend at the other end of the bar with some of his friends.

you felt an odd rage course through you knowing that he was having the time of his life partying, drinking, and cheating on you. while he thinks you're at home and waiting for him to return. you feel hongjoong's arm move from your shoulders to your waist. you turn away from looking at your boyfriend to hongjoong who's already grinning at you. he slides your drink over to before taking a sip of his own.

you quickly down your drink, "i have to use the bathroom," you say before slipping away from hongjoong; however, hongjoong stops you before you get too far away from him.

"go to seonghwa if i'm not here, okay?"

"okay," you say and he gives you a smile before letting you go and turning back to his drink while also ordering another from. and so you make your way to the bathroom.

when you exit the bathroom, you begin to make your way back to the bar, back to hongjoong, but before you could get too far you are stopped. a hand grabbing your wrist and a little too aggressively pulling you back. you let out a surprise yelp as you're turning around and coming face to face with your boyfriend.

"holy shit the guys were right," he says looking at you with surprise all over his face. "i didn't believe them and then i saw you at the bar with... with kim hongjoong. what are you even doing here?"

"what do you mean? am i not allowed to party like you?" you ask, pulling your wrist away from him, an eyebrow raised.

"that's not what i mean," he says, letting out an annoyed sound, "what are you doing here with some gangsters? everyone saw you came in draped around park seonghwa like you were his girl."

"because she is my girl, bastard," you see your boyfriend go pale at the voice behind him and you both look behind him to see seonghwa standing there with a bored expression.

"what are you talking about? i'm her boyfriend! not some thug like you!" your boyfriend says, trying his best to sound intimidating. however, it takes a lot more than a puffed chest to intimidate seonghwa.

"really?" seonghwa says with an annoyed laugh as he rolls his neck, his tattoo standing out boldly in the moment. "you claim to be her boyfriend, yet you're here with another woman instead of her. she's not yours anymore fucker, she's mine. princess," he says, now addressing you, "go get hongjoong. we're leaving."

you nod your head, but before you could get away your ex grabs you by the wrist, stopping. "you're not leaving with these punks until we ta–

he's cut off when seonghwa grabs himself by the collar and shoves him away from you. you notice a burning fire in his eyes as he stalks towards your ex who begins to back away scared by seonghwa. but then seonghwa stopped and turned towards you once more, "princess, go get hongjoong," he told you again and this time you went without anything stopping you.

"hongjoong, seonghwa wants to leave," you say, tugging on his orange fur coat. hongjoong sets his drink down before getting up and following you towards where you left seonghwa and your ex. you tell hongjoong what happened and you notice the grin the takes over his face.

seonghwa meets the two of you outside the club and you notice his knuckles are a little red and busted. however, you choose not to comment on them. instead you watch as he lights another cigarette, taking a drag before blowing the smoke out. his eyes look up to meet yours and can't help but feel something run through and straight to your core.

"your boyfriend is gonna get his shit out of your apartment tonight," seonghwa says as he guides you to get into the car – you honestly didn't notice the car too busy drooling over seonghwa.

"ex-boyfriend," you say, turning to him as you climb into the car and slide over for him to join you. hongjoong rounds the car and gets in on the other side of you. hongjoong says something to their driver before he leans back.

hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist, "i've never been more happy to hear that a word more in my life." seonghwa lets out a laugh at his partner's words. "now we can have you all to ourselves, right doll?"

"right."

you let out a moan, feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as seonghwa pounded into you. you felt your thighs burn from how he has you folded in half and hands gripping the flesh of your thighs tightly. you're pretty sure he'll marks later, but you don't really care now nor will you later.

seonghwa also lets out a series of moans and a few stuttered curses as he continues to thrust into your pussy. his cock stretching your walls out and filling you up as his tip continuously hits your sweet spot. you sling your arm around his shoulder and neck as you let it run down his back, raking your nails down him as you do so.

you feel seonghwa's lip press against your neck leaving open mouth kisses before pulls away to lick up your neck before he's sucking on the skin.

"h-hwa," you moan out as seonghwa moves to sit up slightly in order to thrust harder into you. "fu-f-fuck! so good~"

"you really doing a number on our doll aren't you, hwa?" hongjoong from behind the two of you. hongjoong had fucked you first, cumming in, and kissing you until your lips bruised before he slipped out of you and off your bed to rest in the chair by your desk.

he had a cigarette between his lips when he came to stand behind seonghwa, promptly smacking his ass and making the elder of two turn and send a glare. hongjoong only laughed at his partner before grabbing seonghwa by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.

even through the kiss, seonghwa's hips didn't falter as he kept a steady pace. when the two separated, seonghwa seemed to have gained some extra energy as he continued to drill into you. his thumb coming down to vigorously rub at your clit and you couldn't help the moans and whines that escaped you.

"f-fuck, you feel so good," he grunts out as he wraps his arms around your body and rolls the two of you over so you're now on top. you feel seonghwa's hand run through your hair before gripping it harshly and crashing your lips together. his tongue enters your mouth and you note it tastes like smoke and whatever drink he had at the club.

when he pulls away as you feel his hands roam over your body, groping different parts of you as he begins to harshly thrust into you from below at an almost unthinkable pace. to be honest you had never felt this pleasured before, your ex never making you feel the things both hongjoong and seonghwa have made you feel.

you can't but bury your face in his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at the overwhelming feelings that this man is making you feel.

"hm, do-does it feel g-good, princess?" seonghwa asks, feeling your walls clench around him. he voice becomes rather breathy, his thrust getting longer as he grabs your ass.

"s-so good," you say, voice shaking and you silently cry from how it all feels. and then like a wave pleasure washing over your body, you cum. you let out a loud moan-sob mixed with seonghwa's name and you also pumps his cum inside you.

your mind is fuzzy as you lay on top of seonghwa, both of you sweaty and out of breath. your body stuck to his thanks to the sweat and also how you don't have the energy to move.

you feel your bed dip next to you and seonghwa before a hand comes to rest on your back, running up and down before gently pulling you off and away from seonghwa. his cock falls out of you and you whine at the emptiness; however, hongjoong's hand comes down to spread your pussy lips apart and showing off your cum-filled cunt.

"god, look at pretty our doll's pussy is," hongjoong says pressing a kiss to your temple. you look to see seonghwa looking at the both of you with grin on face before he's sitting up and moving to sandwich you between himself and hongjoong.

"why are you crying princess?" seonghwa asks, hand coming up to brush the tears away. you won't lie, his softness surprises you. his eyes that are usually cold and hard are now soft and his voice is gentle in a way. soothing. you didn't even know you were fully crying.

"hmm?" hongjoong cranes his head to look at you, a pout now on his lips as he looks at you. "what's the matter doll?"

"i guess all the emotions from today and from my ex cheating on me has just finally hit me," you confess with a small laugh. "i had never felt so much pleasure before, so i guess it just overwhelmed me... in a good way."

"your ex never made you cum?" seonghwa asks, reaching over to grab a cigarette before lighting it. he rests next to you and hongjoong, against your headboard and smoking. you crawl a little bit away from hongjoong in order to sit at the end of your bed.

"figures," hongjoong says when seonghwa passes him the cigarette. "spineless fucker, imagine the poor girl who's stuck with him now."

you can't help but let out a laugh as you watch the two of the most feared men in your city share a cigarette and gossip between each other about you ex. it sure was a funny sight to see honestly.

you watch seonghwa talk a long drag before putting the cigarette out, "come here, princess. you don't have to worry about that bastard and his no pleasurable dick anymore."

you smile, nodding before crawling between the two men and immediately laying your head on seonghwa's chest as hongjoong hugs you from behind. "thank you, joongie, hwa."

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

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#lost paradise : fff.#joongfryefff24 #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez hongjoong smut #ateez seonghwa smut

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months

Text

Angel In the Infield - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

A/N: While I'm currently struggling with motivation to work on on Take One for the Team, please instead enjoy this baseball au fic I've done in the meantime! Also I started reading sports romance novels, pls send help half these men are baseball players with dark hair. Also if you like this concept/set up, I'm toying with the idea of making this a series of connected oneshots?

pairing: baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: baseball au, smut throughout, oral (both m + f receiving), praise, dirty talk, mentions of divorce, unfaithfulness (neither Bradley, nor reader), public sex.

word count: 3.7k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The sun hung high on the horizon for a Saturday afternoon, radiating an unseasonable warmth as its rays beat down over the course. A gentle breeze made its way through the palm trees that stood tall outside of the stadium, causing large, deep green leaves to sway in its wake. A crowd of spectators sat on the bleachers that surrounded the diamond, a sea of faces filling the scenery, silently watching, sipping beers and eating hotdogs as they took in the spectacle before them. Media representatives dotted the balcony, press passes on display as they gawked at the game unfolding below.

Bradley Bradshaw approached the plate, lining up to take his turn at bat. His bright white uniformed baseball shirt, emblazoned with the team logo across the front, his last name in bold, block lettering across the back of his broad shoulders, hugged at his sun kissed biceps as they flexed. One of his tattoos just barely visible from under the sleeve of the shirt.

He took two practice swings, and once he was comfortable, lined up with the plate. He narrowed his eyes in focus as he looked to the pitcher, giving him the coldest stare down he could muster, his face fixed in a state of concentration. A year and a half ago, he would have begun trash-talking his opponent from the start, calling out that he’d seen his grandmother lob better pitches, and she’d been dead for 15 years. Instead, Bradley forced himself to behave, willing any inappropriate comments about Jake Seresin’s mother to himself, for now.

He took a swing at the first pitch lobbed towards him with a loud grunt, biting his tongue as he held back a frustrated fuck from his lips as the ball sailed past him, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a thud.

Strike one.

He caught your gaze in the sea of faces that were watching him expectantly, his lips curling up into a soft smile as he looked towards the family and friends boxes where you stood, waving subtly to him to gain his attention. He gave you a subtle nod of his head, symbolic of a thank you, for Bradley.

In an instant, Bradley was back in the game, level-headed and laser focused, ready for the next pitch that was coming, as if seeing you had brought him back down to earth, willing him to focus his attention on something other than his once uncontrollable anger.

He wasn’t often this soft. He never used to be. In fact, he was never considered to be a gentleman when he played any sport. He couldn’t lose graciously. It wasn’t in his nature. He was serious, determined and reserved, focused and dedicated, but even his best intended plans couldn’t withstand his explosive temper. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a walking stick of dynamite.

He didn’t intend to fly off the handle at everyone around if he made a bad play or if someone commented on his skills not being on point the way they once were, but after nothing but criticism for the last four years of his career, Bradley thought his outbursts were justifiable.

If he had to hear another comment about being “washed up” at thirty-one, he might snap again, unable to bite his tongue much longer. And if he had a bat in hand? He’d show whoever it was just how good his game still was. He knew his career didn’t have many years left in it, but he had just as much right as any other up and coming young asshole in the MLB to be here. But one bad year at twenty-seven had turned into two, which turned into three, which now crept up on reaching four.

Admittedly, this year was turning out to be marginally better than the three previous - he didn’t know what to chalk it up to at first.

Herefused to admit he could be in love. Love was never for him. At least, that’s what his ex-wife told him when she filed for divorce four years prior. He’d just been starting to make a name for himself as a promising first baseman when she served him the papers, leaving him with a burning desire to focus everything he had on the one thing that he thought couldn’t break him - baseball. That desperate need to be good at something, anything, drove him to the brink of insanity. He couldn’t control himself or his need to be the best in the only area he knew he could be anymore.

However, that train of thought came to a screeching, grinding halt when he met you.

As Bradley remained focused on his turn at bat, he took a swing at the second pitch sent his way, a fastball that, if he was a smart man, he would have let go, taking the ball instead of risking a strike at a pitch that far outside.

However, Bradley was not a smart man. Not when it came to his turns at bat.

Even he couldn’t hide his momentary shock as the ball made contact with the wooden bat in his hands with a crack. He started running towards first base, rounding it quickly before making the smarter decision to stay put, rather than aim for second. He looked towards where you were watching him from once again, smiling to himself as he watched you blow a kiss towards him. He couldn’t wait to finish this game and just hold you and kiss you. Watch you walk around the house with nothing but his baseball jersey on, just barely long enough on you to cover your private areas, giving him a little sneak peek as you bent over to unload the dishwasher, or reached up to grab a wine glass for yourself when you were ready to unwind for the evening.

Those delicious thighs, soft and smooth as he ran his hands up and down them, the way you’d giggle and kick your legs playfully when he grasped at the back of them, even though he knew you were ticklish there. He didn’t give a rat’s ass though. He loved the way you laughed. He swore it was up there on the list of the most beautiful sounds in the world, along with the way you said his name right before you reached your orgasm, the way you’d call him ‘honey’ in passing and the sound of a World Series crowd chanting your number.

Images of his hands lifting the back of that jersey up, shoving the excess material at the bottom out of his way as he pounded into you from behind flashed across his mind, the sounds of you whining out in pleasure as he relentlessly fucked into you, your pretty, pink folds glistening with arousal, letting him slide in and out of you with ease. The thought alone was almost enough to make him curse the athletic cup that was sitting in his baseball pants at the moment, making it increasingly uncomfortable to move as he felt himself hardening at the thought of you.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to take you in the hotel room later.

As he rounded the bases to home after his teammate’s home run hit, his mind drifted to the thought of your teeth sinking into the tanned, taut skin of his shoulder as he made love to you in the California King Bed that awaited you both in the hotel suite after the game. Your fingers gripping his dark curly hair tightly, tangling into them and tugging as he licked and sucked on your neck, leaving a trail of purpling bite marks down you as he marked you as his own. Not that you protested - in fact, you encouraged it.

As the game progressed, Bradley continued to think about the various ways he could make you his as soon as he got you alone. His mind raced as he thought of you again - in every way possible. He thought about your perfume, how it had some kind of hypnotic hold over him, leaving him momentarily dazed whenever he breathed in your scent. He thought about your smile, how you lit up the entire room when you beamed at him - how you were one of the only people to ever look at him like he meant everything in the world to you, and how you made him feel special and loved and wanted, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the way you made him feel.

His ex-wife had been cold and cut-off from him emotionally, physically. She was never satisfied just being with him. She resented that he couldn’t put all of his attention on her, 100% of the time, despite Bradley feeling like he tried his best to balance his career and home life as best as he could. When she had told him she was ready to have a baby, he’d been entirely on board - ready and willing to start a family. What he wasn’t prepared for, was walking in on her sleeping with a rookie from a rival team in the hotel room that Bradley had paid for.

As he packed up his gear after the game, his team pulling ahead with a win thanks to a home run hit he scored in the 8th inning that shocked even him, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He had proved himself for another day, and he was proud of himself for it. He figured at this rate, if he kept it up, he could be discussing his comeback season with the press after another couple of games. The thought of being respected once again in the sport was electrifying, enough to send a shockwave pulsating through his veins as he switched out of his cleats and into his street shoes.

He headed out of the locker room, his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and his cap turned backwards, with tufts of dark chestnut brown curls peaking out through the opening. He spotted you, wearing one of his spare jerseys unbuttoned with a short little black dress on underneath, with a pair of stark white running shoes. Your matching baseball cap was sported backwards, just like Bradley’s, a style he started adopting on your advice. You’d flipped his cap around one day during a playful round of sex in the backseat of his vintage Ford Bronco, telling him it looked so much hotter on him when he wore it so that you could still see his face. He took that advice to heart, and now, every chance he could, backwards is how it was.

You happily skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely as you peppered his lips with feather-light kisses. He laughed softly and shook his head when you finally pulled away, his cheeks burning into a rosy red tone as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him.

It wasn’t your kisses or affection that embarrassed him though. It was the fact that after 18 months of dating, he still wasn’t used to it. It was partially his own fault — his ex-wife had never been an affectionate lover, but even after that, he refused to actually be in a relationship with anyone. He enjoyed sex, and that was all he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his heart to be broken again, and it suited him just fine until you came along.

He’d met you once in passing — he’d gotten himself embroiled in a bar brawl with some guy who’s mouth ran faster than the speed of light. Bradley’s nose had been broken and bloodied as a result, and you’d been leaving the bar with a handful of friends. You’d recognized Bradley as the guy who’d hit on you earlier in the night, and to your surprise, graciously accepted your rejection when you turned him down. When you saw him in this light though, drunk and vulnerable, you felt sorry for him.

Taking a couple of tissues from your purse, you helped clean up his face as best as you could, sending your friends on their way without you as you took on this newfound role of nurse to him. With few other options to stop his nosebleed, you’d handed him a tampon from your purse. He laughed initially, in complete and total refusal to use it. You had gestured to his floral print white polo shirt, the collar now stained with drips of blood from his face. He huffed a sigh and followed your advice, grumbling as you insisted on making awkward small talk as you sat and waited with him to get checked out.

That was the first time since his mother’s passing that anyone had ever shown Bradley an ounce of compassion when he was injured. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not , but he could have sworn you were an angel with the way you smiled at him and how soothing he found your voice.

Now, eighteen months later, standing here with your arms wrapped around him, his hands on your waist as you fussed over him and congratulated him on his performance in this afternoon’s game, he was sure. You were heaven sent.. In fact, it was what he called you — angel. He’d decided early on it was the perfect nickname for you, and as time went on, he only proved himself right.

“Everyone’s left, right?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow at him as he snapped back to reality, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder.

“Mhmm. I was the last one out of the showers. Looks like it’s just us left here.”

“Perfect. I have a little something for you.”

“Do you?” He inquired, eyebrows raised as he smirked, a million ideas running through his head at what his surprise could be.

Together, you walked back towards the now deserted dugout, the ballpark that was roaring with excitement an hour ago was now silent, deserted by players and fans alike. You grinned as you turned around to face Bradley, dropping down to your knees in front of him, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare that was almost enough to make him groan out in pleasure.

“Wh-you mean, this is my surprise? You’re gonna suck my dick in the dugout, angel?”

“I know you’ve always wanted me to. And you played so good today, honey. How could I say no?” You purred as you undid the belt holding his pants in place.

He dropped his baseball pants down to his ankles, and before his hands could remove the tight fitting boxer briefs he’d changed into post-game, your mouth was pressed against the tightening bulge, pressing warm kisses to it in a way that made Bradley’s mind foggy. He couldn’t think straight and he wasn’t even in your mouth yet.

Fuck.

He knew he wouldn’t last long if this was how worked up he was feeling at your mouth touching him. As you tugged his boxers down, peeling them off his thighs to free his cock. A white bead of pre-cum pearled on his tip, leading Bradley to elicit a pornographic moan as your thumb swiped across it, whisking the liquid away before you began pumping your hand up and down his shaft. You tauntingly flicked your tongue out over the tip of his erection, encircling the red, throbbing head with a trail of saliva before licking a strip along the underside to his balls. Bradley shuddered as he felt you continue to lick up and down his length, your hand pumping him tightly when you alternated and pressed your lips to the tip.

After what felt to Bradley like an eternity, you took his tip past your parted lips, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck on his cock like it was some kind of refreshing summer treat. As you took him further back in your mouth, your saliva began to pool around his shaft, dribbling out down his length as you tried to take more of him into you. He grunted your name as he gathered your hair in his hand, gripping tightly as he thrusted his hips forward into your mouth.

You gagged as you felt his tip brush the back of your throat, causing more of your spit to soak his cock, your hand using it as lubrication as you continued to pump on whatever didn’t fit past your lips. Bradley began panting, gasping and singing your praises as he fucked your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you shut them for a quick moment to concentrate yourself on your technique until you felt a hand gently squeezing your cheeks, making your mouth seemingly tighten harder around Bradley.

“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Eyes on me,” he directed.

You gazed up at him with that same doe-eyed stare again, batting your lashes as you watched his facial expression, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed the feel of your mouth as it sucked and licked at his cock, working him into his orgasm.

“Shit, angel, ‘m’not gonna last,” Bradley panted, deep chocolate brown eyes fixated on you as he watched you pull your mouth back from him almost entirely before thrusting yourself fully into him.

His lids shut again as he drew his head back, saying your name as if it was a hymn he was singing. He let out a deep, throaty grunt as he shot hot, white ropes of his cum down your throat. Your eyes never left his as you swallowed hard, making sure that he could see you as you did it before pulling yourself back off his cock. Pulling yourself to your feet, you wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning proudly at the mess you’d made out of Bradley.

His eyes deepened with a burning, lustful hunger for you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, picking you up off your feet and grinning.

“I gotta return the favour, now, angel. You know the rules. You wear a pretty little skirt like that, and I just have to eat that pussy of yours.” He said matter-of-factly as he pulled his bottoms back up, chuckling to himself as he tightened his belt back up. “Bet you did it on purpose, didn’t you, honey? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist eating that perfect little cunt of yours if you wore something like this?”

“I may have been thinking something along those lines,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders as he laid you down on the bench.

He straddled the bench in front of your legs and tutted his tongue at you, giving you a head shake of disapproval before raising an eyebrow at you.

“Angel, come on, spread those pretty thighs of yours nice and wide for me. Throw your legs over my shoulders if you have to.”

You obeyed his command, biting down on your lip as you fought back a grin, draping your legs over his broad shoulders as he slipped between them, his mouth hovering just over your folds. He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. You let out a soft yelp of pleasure, feeling your body writhe at the mere suggestion of Bradley’s mouth down there on you.

“Look at you,” Bradley purred as he spread your folds apart with two thick fingers. “So pretty and wet for me already? Sucking my cock got you all worked up like this?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to concentrate your thoughts into a sentence.

“C’mon, honey, use your words for me. Wanna hear you say it,” Bradley said as he flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your swollen, sensitive clit.

“Bradley,” you whined as you arched your back at the slow, sensual teasing, “You know exactly why I’m like this already.”

“Mhmm, my perfect angel,” he cooed as he licked at your folds again, gathering your arousal on his tongue.

As Bradley’s tongue ravaged you, eating you out like a man starved on a desert island for the last few months, your heart began to race, a burning desire brewing in the pit of your stomach. While Bradley’s tongue lapped at your arousal, he delved two thick fingers into your pulsating core, pumping them into your g-spot. You could picture him grinning to himself as he heard your needy, whiny moans, panting his name as if it was the only word you were able to say anymore. That was just how he liked it though - making it so he was the only thing on your mind. He prided himself on it.

Your thighs began to shake as he dug the fingers of his free hand into your flesh, holding you in place. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment with a loud suck. You whimpered at the loss of contact, looking down at him from beneath hooded lids as he continued to fuck his fingers deeper into you.

“That’s it, angel. I played my best for you today, wanted to do right, earn this pretty little pussy of yours. Make it mine,” he husked.

Your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers as he spoke, the words alone enough to send you over the edge. He pressed his lips to your clit once again, giving it a long, tantalizing suck as he drew your orgasm out of you. Instead of his name, this time all you could get out of your mouth was a breathless, blissed out moan, unable to formulate words as your brain fogged. Bradley continued to praise you, coaching you through your climax like a personal trainer coaching you through a workout.

He drew his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers until they were clean, his wide tongue pressing flat against them before pulling them out of his mouth with a loud pop. You blinked twice at him, still dazed from your orgasm as he pulled your underwear back up your legs.

“You ok, angel?” Bradley grinned as he tapped your thigh gently with his hand to try and bring you back to reality. Your blissfully fucked out stare was all he needed, a soft smile on your face as you tried to regain your composure.

“We’re just getting started, baby. I’ve got 48 hours with you before my next game, I’m making each one of those hours count.”

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suguruplsr · 3 months

Note

Suguru & Kento have been rotting my brain lately.

Can we get a writing about Geto, Y/N, and Nanami?

I feel like Nanami is definitely a soft Dom, but he isn't afraid to up the anti if you try to play with him too much. And Suguru is just already with it and just loves the face you make when you're tapped out. But both of them together? Good luck to Y/N

GIVE HER THAT V-DAY STUFFING

✰ — who needs a husband for valentines when you have two perfectly good men to use?

,, royale au + masquerade ball , duke!nanami x countess!reader x knight!geto .

, mention of an age gap relationship (npc + reader, she doesn’t like him + more) , infidelity (reader) , use of a lot of pet names , degrading + use of “slut” , finger sucking + fingering , oral (f) , nipple play + sucking , unprotected , u take both at once , not proofread .

wc: 4.3k

divider @/hitobaby

ah, an ever growing holiday was brewing in the cerulean nation on the 14th of february, as it was— ahem, is, becoming the day of love and kindness. celebrated by the prince himself with an annual masquerade ball.

“for he has no shame..” you mutter, adjusting your arm and fully holding up the lilac masquerade mask adorning your face. your husband, a count. who was of course, invited to the annual masquerade ball hosted by the prince of the nation, soon to be king. what was his name again? gojo something.. toru? no, close. but you can’t be bothered to remember his name when his personal knight, a highly respected and dangerous man, is staring at you from across the ball room.

your husband cocks a brow, “is something the matter, love? ” he whispers, leaning closer and trying to glance at whatever was bothering you. but you quickly bring his face towards you, a purple gloved finger beneath his chin. and of course, you wear that washed up and over-used smile as a blush settles onto his expression. “it’s nothing but some admirers. don’t worry your head.” you coo, standing up from the table and smoothing out your violet gown. cute and tight with a slit on your right leg, not to far up, just above your knee, classy enough to look good but simple enough for you to dance.

“would you like to dance? we wouldn’t want to bore all night..” you sigh, yet the sweet dull man refuses, abiet discreet, but still giving the impression of you casted aside as you walk among the crowds with no destination in mind. you can’t stand that heartless man! always isolated in work, so he could be noticed by the arrogant family ruling this very nation. even if it’s clearly a carefree party, stupid man. no wonder he’s brain dead and clueless to your suggestive advances, acting like a cute little virgin, despite his mature age. if he was going to marry some younger noble for better power, then he should at least have some abilities within his inventory! but oh, you aren’t surprised, especially with how difficult it is for him to please you after he’s done being abstinent for fives months in a row—

the cursing in your head, and clicking of your heels is stopped by a warm hand on your shoulder, quite familiar. but a frown forms out of frustration as the duke circles your figure to face you, your stunned expression under the accessory making the masked, decorated in yellow flowers and gold jewels, man smile, almost coyly. but you wouldn’t think of a man of his caliber to act like that sly fox from earlier. “oh.. duke nanami..” your voice wavers in slight confusion, holding up your dress a little and giving him a partial bow. the blonde shakes his head dismissively, gazing at you with more passion than your husband ever has.

“we speak of no names during this time, remember? countess.” you curse yourself as he chuckles lowly, flushed from your obliviousness, despite holding the wood of the very reason why you’re not allowed to say names. “ah, a slip on my part. i just feel so obligated to greet a dear friend of mines.” you recover, shame slowly leaving you as small conversation forms, him asking about your husband before questioning your recent endeavors, a sweet man indeed, but he’s as alluring as that man, nonetheless.

you don’t know when, but one of nanami’s arms eventually slipped around your waist, him behind you as he guides you to the many dancing figures around the ballroom as a slower song, compared to the awful music earlier, plays. “may i?” he whispers with a low timber in voice, lips beside your ear. you grip the decorative wood attached to your mask firmly, swallowing down the thick feeling rising within you as you hesitate. you couldn’t care less about your husband, more so the eyes directed towards you. perhaps you’ve gained some of his tendencies when it comes to public image.

but it’s just a little dance between friends, in a place meant for such activities. who’d question that? well.. other than the much older noble women with positions lower than yours, speaking over tea weekly as they reminisce about their past selves, wallowing in hatred.

you nod, “i would love too, but my mask isn’t one with straps.” you sigh. you did sacrifice your arm so you could keep your perfectly managed hair intact. but that seems to not be a problem for the man as he slips his off without a problem, “then we both can stay like this while we enjoy our night..” his hand reaches for your mask, smiling when you lend it to him, watching as he puts the two accessories in the pocket of his white vest. “if that’s okay with you?” his charm has you fighting a grin, eyes crinkling in amusement while he subtly admires the features of your face.

“i have no choice then.” you sigh, faux exasperation within your voice as you place a hand up onto his shoulder, “and i must say, my color makes you look dashing.” you poke at the violet mask poking out his pocket. that was no lie, the light shade of purple does well with his white and yellow scheme. “oh? i’ll consider your.. tastes more often.” nanami chuckles, his hands finding your hips, your bodies swiftly joining among the movement of others.

you two sway in perfect harmony with the rest, all thoughts of your face shown gone, and more focused on the hazel eyes that gazes at you adoringly. “i guess your earlier suggestion calls for an outing, no? i’d love to show you the many dresses i prefer.” you tease with a grin, gripping his shoulder a bit tighter as he sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “i hope im not the model for your trivial cloths, however..” his eyes drip down as he twirls you, taking the second to indulge in his more.. disrespectful fantasies.

you’re a married woman, he reminds himself.

but not a pleased one.

nanami, feels like one of those sleazy men at the round table, using excuses to have women with rocks and diamonds on their pretty little fingers, in the confines of their homes and secretly turning them away from their husbands. only to leave them on their own once the time comes of divorce, thinking they’d be treated lavishly in all types of ways with such notorious men.

oh but he wouldn’t do that to you, all pretty and daring. a woman with a spunk in her that never lets out. stubborn, he thinks. you just need the right person to lay you down and just fuck —

“well, the time of the ache in my feet and the horrendous song are parallel. a break please?” you look over at the artists disappointedly, blaring trumpets that did not suit well together, overcoming the sweet tunes of the pianist whose blues you adore. “of course, over here my lady.” nanami mutters, holding your hand and walking you off the ball floor. you two walk among the white clothed tables, chatter and hold light around you as you near what you presume to be nanami’s spot of interest, considering the familiar faces.

“would you like a drink?” nanami smiles as he pulls out a chair for you, setting your masks on the silk covering the small table as you get yourself comfortable. “an apple cider would be most appreciated, thank you.” you hum, feeling his fingers almost struggle to slip away from your hand before he goes. “of course..” he whispers, walking away to the large table across the giant ball room, which held the drinks and was lined up with staff of the royal family.

you sigh, almost dreamily, as you take time to recall the past moments. the charming man danced so eloquently that it was almost hard for you to keep up. but, you don’t really have outings like this often, so you’ll go easy on yourself for once.

you smooth out your dress, unconsciously looking up ahead. and just like that, your brief tranquility disappeared as annoyance seeped into you. all from the sight of that dark haired man.

geto suguru.

the damned man whose eyes have yet to leave your form all night. and the very man who strutted towards you with an air of superiority and cockiness. you hold your tongue, glaring hard as he takes the seat across from you that belongs to the beloved man who was here seconds ago. “such a.. roaring, attitude you have there my lady. but i couldn’t help but notice your beauty from across—“ you cut him off with a scoff, “cut it, geto.” you say sternly, holding back the harsh tone of your voice so no one would hear, or question who would dare have the audacity of speaking to such a respected individual like that.

oh but you do.

a hidden rivalry between the two of you has existed since the first ball the prince had ever hosted. at that time, you were but a fiance with no name for herself, hidden in the shadow of your husband and following behind him mindlessly. to which only the ever heart-stopping suguru interrupted, sneaking you into a little game of things you shouldn’t be doing. a game you play every year on the one fateful day you don’t wear that costly meaningless ring. it’d crude the outfit, you’d say every morning of every 14th of the month of kindness and love.

and that dumb man would believe it everytime.

but the thoughts of your husband are washed away as you shamelessly eye fuck the man in front of you. his thick noire hair pulled up into a ponytail, with his usual bangs left out, which makes him all the more attractive you think. he’s adorned in a basic black and white suit with a black mask that holds gems and dusted glitter. it baffles you how little effort he needs to look so beautiful, those small sunset-like eyes glimmering under the shining lights.

“where’s all that class gone my love?” suguru chuckles, leaning forward and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. you roll your eyes deciding to not respond and cross your arms.

suguru examines the expression on your face, all riled up for nothing. perhaps that dimwit husband of yours had and argument with you? maybe, he thinks. but a churning fills his stomach from the memory of you dancing with the duke earlier. good man. suguru unconsciously licks his lips from the exposure of your neck. nah, nanami wouldn’t be able to handle a sweet thing like you.

“my eyes are up here.” you say abruptly, clicking your tongue as heat rushes through you from his shameless staring, again. but the man bears no care for your words, sitting back in his chair and cocking his head. you can already read what he must be feeling, a man in slacks only ever spreads for one reason and one alone.

and with how.. big that reason is, you can only bite your bottom lip in anticipation, unfortunately, already thinking of ways to get away from nanami to speak of this reason with the man in front of you.

“i know sweetheart, just scoping my target.”

“you are so corny, please don’t ever say that again.”

“just military talk, my love.”

“to be sensual? it’s surprising how skilled you are in other things.”

suguru gives you a boasting laugh from your unamused responses, a grin sitting on those pretty lips of his. “yea, i’m sure you know all about those skills baby.” he speaks lowly, making you fight a flustering smile from the light giddiness in you. sometimes you forget how he pulls you into a state of calmness, like talking to someone closer than a friend.

well, considering you trust him with your body, more than your own husband, he’s pretty close.

but you’ve also seemed to forget the environment you two are in, as a filled glass cup is placed in front of you, a golden bracelet dangling on his wrist, “i didn’t know we were sharing our seats with another.” nanami holds his scoff, as the annoyed tone in his voice speaks enough to the two of you. suguru doesn’t appear to care, as he gestures to a free table, “i’m sure you can wait while the lady and i finish conversing, you—“

“i did tell you it was his seat.” you mock with a lie, gaining a faux flash of hurt from suguru as nanami groans. just one night with you was all he wanted, but of course, that womanizer just had to get to you. but he knows of the look in suguru’s eyes, one he harbors just for you. “so you decided to not listen to her? how.. shameful.” nanami tsks under his breath, avoiding the looks from an approaching couple as he swiftly steals a chair from the unoccupied table.

with suguru in front of you, and nanami on your right, you feel overwhelmed as tension rises, burning it down with the fizzy drink, but nanami’s next words almost makes you spit it out. “before you run off with that home wrecker, maybe you should worry about that husband of yours.” how did he know about you and suguru? shit, maybe you two haven’t been as discreet as you thought you were.

you didn’t even acknowledge the last part of of sentence, well you could care less, but you’re too embarrassed with your infidelity being recognized, “hm? oh— …he’s not lying sweetheart,” suguru pulls off his mask, setting it on the table and looking over at the direction of your earlier seating, catching a glimpse of your husband being sweet talked by some brunette, “seems he’s into even.. younger woman..” his voice falls into disgust, as he’s reminded of how your marriage started.

you were sent away to be wedded off just a few days after your 20th birthday, being a fiance for nearly two years until the 30 something year old man had finally taken interest in his relationship after being questioned by the queen. during that time, you had met the knight as a friend since he was somewhat around your age. well of course, that friendship grew over that small span of time.

and now, you’re pushing your late 20’s, your experience repeating itself.

“how disgusting.” nanami mutters, turning his head away to see your reaction. but you simply shrug, deciding to memorize the woman’s looks. you’ll warn her about the man later. “he can have his fun for now. but at the moment..” you sigh exasperatedly, looking at the two men with a needy look. “i think i’ve waited long enough, no?” your eyes flicker over to suguru’s, who smiles dangerously standing up and patting the dukes shoulder as he walks over to take your hand, you follow him.

“let us show you how we spend valentine’s.” he purrs. despite his morals, the blonde follows, only three masks left behind as evidence.

a empty unused room was the choice for this year. but the shimmering lights and porcelain all look the same, maybe you and suguru have been in here before.

the said man was on his knees, embracing the scent of your cunt while nanami was beside you holding, your now somewhat undressed, body against the wall with his lips over taking yours. “so pretty,” the blonde murmurs, holding your face by your chin as he kisses you passionately, but you can feel his fervor from how sensitive suguru’s breath on your panties make you. he kisses the ever growing wet spot on them, his tongue immediately laying flat as your thighs shake a little.

you moan into nanami’s mouth as his hands begin to pull at your nipples, grinding into suguru’s mouth, annoyed from the teasing of tongue. to which he clearly enjoys, from the vibration of his mouth to your pussy, a chuckle rumbling from his chest. “eager, huh?” nanami quips, amused, his open mouth kisses begin to trail to your neck, suguru’s fingers pull aside your underwear and the men finally work in tandem to give you what you want.

“mhm, just wanna come for once in my life.” you joke, impatience bristling among your tone, making suguru roll his eyes from between your legs, kissing your folds as one of his large hands push your thigh to fill the open space. “won’t hafta’ think about that tonight..” he huffs, his last words before his mouth began to suck onto your clit, making your back arch. but nanami redirects you, caring little for the triggered nerves in you as his own lips latch onto one of your breasts while he rolls your free nub under his finger.

your quiet moans fill the dimmed room as the men enjoy your body, all to give you a fresh high you haven’t experienced for so long. your thighs shake around suguru’s face once his tongue is inserting inside you, nanami’s groping and kisses making you all the more sensitive to them. you try your best to remind yourself of the hundreds of people downstairs, even the presence of the royal family on the floor above you. but the duke clearly isn’t satisfied with you trying to hide your sounds.

why not give you a better alternative?

his fingers clutch your face tight, words spurring together from your bunched up lips as he looks down at you, “open.” nanami whispers, letting go lightly, watching you obey, “good girl.” his praise goes straight down to your pussy, closing your eyes as you throb, taking his thick digits in your mouth while suguru’s tongue flicks around your folds. he eats you out like his life depends on it, sucking and kissing the gummy area with periodic smacks of his lips, nose deep. the way he was practically inhaling your pussy had his dick straining in his pants.

you almost choke on the fingers, bringing a hand up to nanami’s chest as he forces you to suck. your hums vibrate on his fingers, spit forming and your whimpers muffled as you wet suguru’s face. “sweet baby.” nanami coos, holding back a groan from the sight of tears beginning to prickle the corners of your eyes. suguru hums beneath you, nails digging into the plush of your thighs as your stomach coils, mind turning into mush as the men overstimulate you.

your body reacts heavily, unfamiliar with the simulations and you try to thrash around, spit drooling along nanami’s fingers as his mouth latches back onto your nipples, popping on the buds while suguru’s hand on your panties goes to your cunt, frustrated with the fabric but too hungry for your cunt to move them. he finally moves his head away from your thighs with a small gasp for air, a sick look on his face with the bottom of his mouth covered in slick. he quickly angles two big fingers in your cunt, curling them to make you break apart for the men to see.

“she looks like a fuckin’ slut.” suguru teases, licking your juices off his lips as you whine on nanami’s fingers, bucking into the ‘come hither’ movement of the digits inside you. the blonde pulls away from you with a pop of your nipple, “such foul language use for a lady like her,” nanami tuts, eyeing your puffy and ruined lips, “gonna cum for us? you can do it..” he smiles. his praises take you to cloud nine, mewling as your pussy throbs a beat from the way suguru presses the pads of his fingers deep in you.

you finally cum with a loud indistinct moan around nanami’s fingers, painting suguru’s white as your eyes roll back with tremors in your body. your orgasm makes you look so gorgeous to the two men, body shined in sweat and simply falling apart for them.

suguru pulls his fingers away, “can’t wait to feel you, fuck.” he whispers, immediately putting his slimey digits in his mouth, taking all he can of your sweet taste. your pussy looks almost battered, gooey and as puffy as your lips as cum soaks your messy undies. which he pulls down, helping you step out of them and sneaking them away as nanami allows you to open your mouth, bringing his wet fingers to grope your chest, the flesh spilling between his fingers.

“i’m sure you can take us both baby.” suguru parts from your pussy with a pat on your thighs, standing tall. mind slowly coming into focus, you look up at him with a frown, “what— no i can’t. you’ll break me.” you huff, slapping his chest as he shrugs. “stretch my love, we’ll stretch you. just don’t move too much, kay?”

his dangerous grin makes you turn away, looking up at nanami for help.

“you’ll be fine darling.” nanami disregards your pleading look with a smile, almost taking pleasure in the way your expression falls, huffing under your breath and complying with a reluctant ‘okay’. you stand still as the men undress, watching them without a care.

“the ladies weren’t wrong about you.” suguru blurts, examining the quite muscular build the duke has, almost similar to his own. but it surprises the knight considering how lean he looked underneath all that clothing. “don’t stare.” nanami throws him a glance as he kicks away his pants, both men fully bare to the cold air. suguru shakes his head with a smile as the other stands in front of you, him taking place behind you.

“c’mere.” suguru mumbles close to your ear, pulling you flush against his skin by your waist. he kisses below it as nanami greets you with a soft look, hands going below your thighs. “just let us do all the work.” he smiles, kissing the middle of your chest. which you’ve now guessed to be his favorite place.

somehow, the men were able to stuff their way in your pussy, holding you up with ease as groans revertibrated around the room. their cocks brushed together inside you, gummy walls clenching around them with its own heartbeat as you cried from the pain, and soon the pleasure.

“p-please— god, just move already.” you sob into nanami’s neck after five minutes of adjusting, your body too worked up to handle the stillness anymore.

your words make the two men give broken chuckles, “don’t cry if it hurts.” nanami mutters, giving the man behind you a look. and they both begin to slowly rock into you, breaths heavy and gasps leaving their lips as their fingers dig into your skin, holding your body tightly still.

suguru’s head falls onto your shoulder, letting his low groans reach your ears better as his hair tickles. “so fuckin’ tight, gotta loosen up baby.” you bite your lip from his words. it’s not like you can control it, they just feel so good. one of his hands goes up to your hickey covered chest, griping one of your tits. “might have to fuck her through it.” nanami groans. he couldn’t take it anymore, although he isn’t fond of the fox-like man, the way their tips rub in the home of your cunt has him fighting the need to rut in your cunt.

“thought you were treating her like glass.” suguru hums, pinching the nipple between his fingers, making a whine erupt from you. “i can handle it!” you begin to tear up, feeling suguru’s tongue lap up the small salty drops, “yea?” “yeah..” your meek response makes the two men adjust you just a bit higher, no words spoken between them, but moving together at the same time to fuck you with all their might.

you try to hinder your screams by biting down on your lip, but that does nothing, as the feeling of the two cocks hitting your insides is too good, you just hope you don’t get caught in such a state. head thrown back and slutting yourself out for the two men like some common whore.

you held onto nanami’s shoulders as suguru’s thrusts become harsh, his feet planted on the floor to fuck into you. nanami begins to match his pace, holding you up while suguru’s hands claw at your waist sloppily, too lost in the feeling of your messy pussy. “i know you feel it, c’mon, you can do it.” nanami speaks breathlessly, his perfectly styled hair beginning to stick to his forehead as he leans his head back. you nod your head mindlessly, throat sore and stomach turning.

“might just— f-fucking fill ‘er up.. sure that husband of yours won’t mind right, princess? definitely can’t handle ya like we do.” suguru’s nearly growls in your ear, biting on your neck as the deep smells of their cologne’s take over your senses. his words get to your head, and you feel like you’re melting into putty, reaching your high with each rock of their cocks, their tips hitting that spot inside you that hasn’t felt anythitng for so long.

“y-yea, wanna feel you two..” you can’t say the rest of your words, already too humiliated with the mere thoughts of their hot and ready cum spilling inside you, a married woman, and possibly getting you pregnant.

nanami grits his teeth, pushing into you, “say it baby, promise we’ll get you full if you do.” “yeah, we’ll stuff you all you want.” suguru follows, and their cocks move together as they pound you, a ring forming at their bases. “please, i wanna feel y’r cum.” you squeeze your eyes tight, body shuddering as the two men begin to kiss on your body, leaving marks that show your pussy isn’t the only thing they’re taking for grabs.

your mind swirls, limp in their arms with a cry as you cum on their cocks. your ears ring, a satisfied flow running through you as you feel spurts of cum filling you up, the men stilling inside you at the hilt to stuff you full. but your shared substances dribble down their dicks, slowly staining the perfect floors with evidence of your nasty actions.

from the cracked open door, a pair of wide eyes stare at the lewd sight, shocked. but too scared to say a single thing as his own jeans form a tent. a young brunette woman sneaks up the stairs seeing the man down the hall; her companion for the night. she notices a fallen ring beside his shoes.

“is something wrong?”

“ahem, it’s uh, nothing, let us return.”

415 notes · View notes

lucid-loves · 4 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine.

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door.

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself.

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least.

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions.

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move.

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before.

Too bad you had a combative mouth.

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof.

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled.

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence.

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness.

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home.

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call.

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato.

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch.

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?”

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone.

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know.

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least.

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied.

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately.

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

600 notes · View notes

midnightwriter21 · 11 months

Text

demon slayer hcs: giyuu meeting soulmate!reader

characters: giyuu x fem!kamado!reader, tanjiro x sister!reader, nezuko x sister!reader, sanemi (mentioned), shinobu (mentioned), urokodaki (mentioned)

warnings: blood, family death, fighting, reader is the oldest Kamado sibling

AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed somewhere on your body!! this is the longest soulmate hcs i’ve written lol

GIYUU

you decide to spend the night over at a friends house late one night

you begin the walk home the next day at around noon

and when you return home you find your entire family slaughtered, laying in pools of their own blood

and your little brother Tanjiro and little sister Nezuko are missing

in tears, wondering what the hell happened and where your siblings are, you fail to notice the men and women approaching your home

when they get to you they explain who they are

they are the kakushi for the demon slayer corps

they check you for injuries and explain what had happened

a demon attacked your family

and your missing brother and sister are most likely dead

in a fit of rage the need for vengeance fills you

and you ask how you can become a slayer

the kakushi bring you to the butterfly mansion where you meet the head of the demon slayer corps

and filled with sympathy for you but sensing your potential, he assigns a hashira to be your mentor

and not just any hashira

The Wind Hashira

Sanemi Shinazugawa

the hot headed hashira with the deepest hatred for demons, the harshest training, and an undeniable disliking towards the water hashira, whom you haven’t met

with just a month of training, you’re headed to the Final Selection

unsurprisingly, due to your training with sanemi, you pass with flying colors

over the course of the next year, you practically fly up the ranks

being sent on several missions, training with sanemi, and of course, still grieving the loss of your siblings, Tanjiro and Nezuko

you become friends with most of the hashira due to your status of being the wind hashira’s tsuguko

but still not meeting the infamous water hashira that your teacher seems to hate

it isn’t until you receive a letter from the previous water hashira, Sakonji Urokodaki

that everything changes

he has heard of your fast progress and skill

and when hearing your last name, he realized that his newest student is your family

your little brother is alive

he passed the final selection

and he’s currently on a mission

a mission that several slayers have died on

a mission that required two hashira due to the amount of casualties

after reading the letter you practically fly out of the wind hashira’s estate

abandoning your daily training

barely hearing Sanemi’s outraged and confused yelling at your departure

running as fast as possible toward the forest that Tanjiro is supposed to be stationed in

you arrive

quickly taking off the head of a demon with the flick of your wrist as you pass by

faintly seeing the outline of a man with a mismatched haori in the corner of your eye

but continuing forward

toward your brother

faster

faster..

even faster…

you arrive

arrive just in time to block the killing blow heading towards your brother..

standing in front of Tanjiro in a defensive position with your back to him

your eyes lock onto the demon that was attacking your brother

Lower Rank 5

one of the twelve kizuki

you are so focused that you can barely hear Tanjiro whisper your name in shock

surely he thought you were dead

turning your head to softly smile at him over your shoulder you say,

“it’s alright, tanji. i’m here now.”

then, you feel a drop land on your face

a drop of blood

you look up to find your baby sister

covered in blood and tangled in the demons webs

a demon herself

in shock you stammer her name

this distraction gives lower rank 5 the opportunity to attack

he launches an attack toward you

you don’t have the time to block it

but you don’t have to

the man you caught a glimpse of earlier with the checkered haori leaps in front of you, blocking the strike

with him taking on the demon, you take the chance to leap into the air and cut the webs holding your sister

catching her as she falls, you can’t tear your eyes from her demonic form

Urokodaki did NOT mention this in his letter to you…

looking up at the sound of a head hitting the floor you realize that the man had delivered the killing blow to the attacking demon

as he turns to walk towards you and your sister, sword at the ready, nezuko stands in front of you defensively

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER” you plead, practically in tears

his eyes widen in shock

shock from the revealed information perhaps?

possibly from pity…?

or… is that… realization?

and then, in a split second he moves behind you

and the loud ‘clang’ of two swords colliding reach your ears

he had blocked the sword of another hashira

Shinobu, the insect hashira had attempted to take the life of your little sister

realizing that he was defending you, you took the chance

grabbing your brother and sister by the hand you run

and you keep running until you hear a crow telling you to report to the butterfly mansion with your brother and sister in tow

as you begin the journey to the butterfly mansion, tanjiro informs you of the events he experienced over the last year

in turn, you tell him of your experiences

arriving at the mansion, you are greeted with the sight of the hashira

normally, you would greet the people you call friends but today they are against you

when choosing between your family or your friends

you would choose your family, everytime

glancing between the highly ranked slayers, you see the quiet man in the mismatched haori

and since the only hashira that you haven’t met is the water hashira

you can safely assume that it’s him

when the meeting starts the master announces that both Urokodaki and Giyuu Tomioka have both put their lives on the line to vouch for Nezuko

Giyuu…

that’s his name.

the appreciation and admiration that surges through you at hearing the way he is supporting your sister is unreal

but your admiration is stopped in its tracks by the arrival of your mentor

you physically wince at Sanemi’s hard gaze, drawing an almost unnoticeable puzzled look from Giyuu

after the meeting ends and after a rather loud scolding from Sanemi

you turn to Giyuu and express how thankful you are for his help, and for his support for your sister

and he speaks to you for the first time,

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

at his words, your heart stops

time freezes

your own wide eyes staring up into his calm ocean blue eyes in shock

you are physically frozen in shock

feeling the eyes of the other hashira staring at him he grabs you by the shoulder and leads you away from the prying gaze of the slayers

and then steps away, turning his back to you and pulling his hair over his shoulder exposing the back of his neck to you

exposing his soulmate tattoo to you

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER”

printed in your very own handwriting on his pale skin

you somewhat recover from your shock, softly tapping his shoulder to have him face you

and then copying his actions, you turn your back to him exposing the words printed onto your own neck

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

sanemi was NOT happy to hear that his tsuguko is giyuu’s soulmate

2K notes · View notes

theonotti · 7 months

Text

MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch.

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table.

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them.

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home.

“Can’t we just kill them?”

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting.

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal.

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger.

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected.

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.”

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going.

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly.

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal.

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound.

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out.

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.”

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold.

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.”

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot.

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in.

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall.

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room.

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you.

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.”

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was.

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken.

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room.

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning.

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears.

He never thought he’d hear the sound again.

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side.

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette.

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war.

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.”

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters.

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in.

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare.

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay.

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging.

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth.

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him.

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact.

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you.

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill.

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly.

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit.

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?”

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him.

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice.

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.”

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself.

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall.

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor.

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice.

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls.

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying.

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time.

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.”

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence.

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary.

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact.

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help.

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.”

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath.

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone.

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline.

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well.

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed.

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand.

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do.

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough.

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this.

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside.

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso.

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it.

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets.

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him.

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything.

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said.

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up.

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling.

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless.

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.”

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out.

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew.

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb.

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move.

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction.

This has to work, He thought to himself.

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued.

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him.

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer.

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch.

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do.

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake.

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left.

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.”

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears.

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart.

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry.

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face.

“You're not going?”

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end.

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes.

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #.txt

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sykosugu · 2 months

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melodies of passion | one

♤ summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless yakuza boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. a gojo satoru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, death, illegal activities, sexual content, gang related content, use of weapons

♧ aw: none this time around, only proofread once if that counts as a warning

♡ currently: ongoing - no update schedule

♤ taglist: open! just let me know

♢ wc: 3.1k

♧ carlile speaks: hi my loves! chapter one is here! I can't wait to hear your reactions. you might recognize someone in this story. send some love from me on her stories kickoff and in another life enjoy!

♡: you are here | next part

Gojo had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown.

He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.

Gojo had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.

“That big Yakuza guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.

“You know, the tall white haired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.

“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”

“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed.

He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.

It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Gojo decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.

Walking in, Gojo notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites.

“And may you grow to be proud

Dignified and true..”

Gojo can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.

“And do unto others

As you'd have done to you..”

He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.

“Be courageous and be brave

And in my heart you'll always stay

Forever young, forever young

Forever young, forever young”

Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab the dust rag behind you, and you're startled by Gojo’s presence.

“Jesus, Gojo. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,

“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Gojo counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with long black hair tucked neatly into a bun. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.

“No, no Gojo. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.

“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the dark haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Gojo, giving him a singular nod, to which Gojo nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”

“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll, “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.

Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you.

Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.

“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.

“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts his hands from you.

“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”

“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”

“Fat chance, Mr. Yakuza man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.

“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”

“Goj–”

“Satoru. I’ve told you to call me Satoru.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.

“Gojo, that’s not going to happen.”

“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day, Birdie. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”

You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Gojo would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.

An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Gojo. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Why did Yakuza man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”

“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.

“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”

“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.

“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.

“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.

“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence.

“And my best friend is betting against me!”

“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”

“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.

“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you.

“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.

“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”

“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.

“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”

“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”

“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which that only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer..

You just roll your eyes.

Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.

A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?”

“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”

“Yeah, said his son's name was Suguru and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”

“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.

“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.

“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.

Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.

A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”

“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie,” and she’s out the door. Uh, okay?

Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Gojo.

“Gojo, i have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Suguru is there?”

“He’s Suguru,” Gojo motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”

Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Gojo and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.

“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.

“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.

“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.

“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Gojo’s hands keep up the melody.

“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;

“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”

“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.

“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up.

As you begin singing along with his playing, Gojo’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.

Once you finish, Gojo looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”

“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Sug? Cho?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him.

“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.

“And how did she sound?”

“Lovely, sir.” Suguru says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.

“I have to agree with Suguru,” Choso says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one.

“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Gojo turns his attention back to you.

“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.

“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.

“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”

“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And that it's time to wake up, Gojo.”

“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.

“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”

“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”

“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’

“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”

“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”

“None taken,” they say in unison again. Gojo snaps his fingers and the men leave.

“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Gojo softly grabs your arm.

“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways,” he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.

“B-bye, Gojo.”

“Satoru,”

“If you impress me, then maybe.”

♡ tags: @therealestpussyeater @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @semra4 @manyno @lostfracturess @starlostwish @h0nestly-though @celestie0 @username23345 @lulunx @sukunasdirtylaugh

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rey-129-fan · 16 days

Text

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location. Well, we are moving up in the world. That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is. And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose. There were voices in the background progressively getting louder. “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise. Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway. Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice. “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit. In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake. Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear. Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is. However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man. “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened. Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field. It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author. I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it. Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny! You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm! Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look. On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man. One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl. The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives. The man was a muscular blond. All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder. The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work. Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help. Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t. Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up. See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage? Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What? No! Kyle! Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn. This is some nice creature work! Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle! I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them. Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head. Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something. All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly. And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one. More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been. That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders. It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching. Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind. But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

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penelopepine · 21 days

Text

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 6

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship, light angst

It was you. It was fucking you; Simon finally felt like he could breathe again hearing your voice.

"Simon? Simon, are you ok?" It's pretty late right now." You calling his name brings him back to the conversation at hand. You're right it was late; he wasn't thinking of that when he called you. It also relieves him to know that you were ok and that you were just sleeping. Heavens knows though that he would be running to you right now if you hadn't answered.

"Love, I need you to not panic, and do exactly as I say." Simon can't talk as Simon right now. His emotions will only get in the way, and that will get you hurt. Ghost doesn't have emotions though; he only knows orders and doing what needs to be done, "Copy."

"Simon-"

"Copy."

You don't answer right away. You're clearly worried and confused about what is happening, "I copy."

"Put me on speaker and start packing. You're staying at a hotel tonight." He's getting you out of there right now. Call him paranoid Simon doesn't care right now. His main focus is getting you out of that flat; he'd rather be wrong about everything and have you safe than dead.

"What! Simon, what's going on?"

"I know I'm not making a lot of sense right now, but just trust me." Simon waits to see if you're going to actually listen to him or just hang up on him.

It's silent on your end for a few moments before he hears what he assumes is you getting out of bed, "You're on speaker now. How long am I packing for?"

You listened to him. Simon is so relieved to know that despite him acting so out of the norm for you, you do trust him. "Pack light; only for a few days just in case. Bring any important documents with you as well." He's going to get to you as soon as he can, but he knows that Price and the others need to be involved first. "Now, tell me exactly what happened when the two men showed up."

"Uh well, I saw them when I was just getting home. They were right outside your door talking to one another."

"Do you know what they were saying?"

"No, it was all in Russian."

Simon at this point has put you on speaker as well as he starts to book a hotel room and cab for you, "Continue."

"I tried to just walk past them; I thought maybe they were lost looking for a friend's room or door to door salesman, but they stopped me as soon as I was unlocking my door." Your breathing fast; obviously panicking about the situation you're now in, "they asked about you mostly; they knew your name. Just things like if I knew you, when you would be back, or if anyone else lived in the flat."

"Breathe love, it's okay." He needs to keep you calm; if you get panicked you'll be more prone to make dumb decisions, "What did you tell them?"

“I didn’t tell them anything, I promise. I said we’ve seen each other in halls, but we’ve never really talked before and that I couldn’t answer their other questions.”

Simon is starting to feel less bad about dragging you out of your flat as you continue to tell the story. Everything about this is sounding more and more suspicious, “Did it look like they had been in the flat?”

“No, no the door was shut and when I was sure that they had left I went in to make sure you hadn’t been robbed or something.” That made Simon nervous; he wished that you hadn’t been so worried about his place. He had been practically bullied into giving you a spare key so you could keep things clean while he was away.

Simon wants to question you further, but is cut off by a noise from his phone. It seems the cab is ready for you outside. It is late he reminds himself, and he can find out more later once you’re safely away from your flat. “Love, a cab is waiting for you outside. It’s going to bring you to a safe hotel nearby; a room under Jane Smith will be waiting for you. I need you to share with me your location as well.”

You release a shaky breath, “Simon, I’m scared.”

"I know, I'm- I'm sorry. I haven't been handling this situation well at all I'm sure."

"I trust you Simon, I do, but you're going to have to explain to me what is happening tomorrow." With that another noise comes from his phone and he sees that he now has your location.

Simon makes sure to stay on the phone with you the entire cab ride, and even until you reach your room. Talking about things you’ve been doing for the last two weeks; keeping the conversation light.

When the phone call ends he expects hours to have passed, but in reality it has only been an hour at best. Simon takes a stumbling step backwards before he’s rushing out the door to find the others. He cares much less about keeping them awake then he did you.

Marching through the base he goes to Price's office first. Simon knows for a fact that Price is still up and doing paperwork. He knocks once on the door out of respect, but is storming inside without waiting for an answer. "Price."

"Ghost," Price looks up at him quizzically, "Is there a reason for your sudden appearance at this time?"

"We have a problem. My flat and identity has been compromised."

Price suddenly looks very serious; all tiredness fading from his face, "tell me everything."

Simon quickly explains everything that you told him. The two come up with a plan of action, and how they're going to proceed with what's happening. Price has already scheduled a meeting with Laswell and the others first thing in the morning. Which isn't ideal for Simon as he wants to be near you right now, but he knows waiting for everyone to be on board is for the best.

The next morning everyone is awake and in the meeting room with Price leading the briefing. "We're going in to survey the area, and see if Beads or Ghost's flat has been tampered with."

Simon had to admit to himself it was nice to have a name for you without actually telling others your real name. It was the name he had given Price and the others to use whenever they needed to talk about you.

“Is Beads still there?” Johnny looks towards Simon.

“She’s safe and away from there at the moment.”

It's Laswell who chimes in next, "We'll need her brought back to base after you've surveyed the area and got any information you can find; at least for a few hours. I'll need to talk to her about who she saw, and what exactly was said in their conversation."

Price nods and claps his hands together, "Alright lads you know the plan let's roll out!"

They all arrive at his flat building a couple hours later. During that time Simon had checked your location, and texted you as well for good measure. Your location was exactly where it should have been. When texting he had given you a heads up that he was coming to get you. Your replies showed that you were relieved to hear from him, but still upset about being in the dark about the situation.

Walking down the hallway to both yours and his flats he sees that both doors are slightly ajar. Simon speeds past his own door and goes for yours instead. “Price, Gaz, you two take my flat while Johnny and I go to Beads.”

He receives a nod from Price before slowly pushing your door open and stepping inside. It kills him when he gets a good look around your space. The whole place has been overturned and torn apart.

“They really did a number on this place didn’t they?” Johnny asks from behind him, “Is there anything you want to grab from here?”

“No, but if you see something that looks important let me know.”

“Copy.”

Going further into your flat it seems like every room has been turned upside down. Simon doesn’t know what they could have even been looking for in here. He luckily didn’t even keep anything important relating to him at his own flat; he knows that they didn’t get anything useful about him in here.

It took the two of them about half an hour to completely and thoroughly go through the place. When nothing was found they went back to the hallway where Price and Gaz are just exiting his flat as well.

“Find anything?” Simon asks, looking towards Price.

“Cameras, we’re sure we’ve found them all and deactivated them already. We’ll get these to Laswell right away. There may be something we can use on them.”

“This place has cameras in the halls as well; let’s make sure we grab those too.”

Simon gives his flat a look through once more while Price deals with getting the building cameras. His place looks much like yours did; except he had much less things to destroy in his. Not finding anything else that they could have planted he makes his way back down to the car where the others are already waiting.

"Time for us to meet Beads?" Johnny grins as Simon approaches them; clearly excited about the idea of meeting you.

"Unfortunately." Simon simply walks past and hops back in the car. The others followed right after him, and in just a few moments they were heading in your direction. Your location hasn't moved since the last time he checked.

He makes sure to text you once again; to let you know that he and the team are on their way to you, and to pack up since you'll be coming with them.

Parking in front of your hotel comes far too fast and too slow at the same time for Simon. He hasn't seen you in weeks, and now when he is finally able to you're upset with him and possibly being hunted by some Russian terrorist group.

"Do you want us to go up with you, or should we wait here?" Gaz speaking finally snaps Simon out of his thoughts.

"Wait here; we'll be out soon." He steps out and begins his way inside right past the receptionist desk, and down the hall to your room. Before he can knock on your door though he hears a ping from his phone.

Looking down at his phone he sees that a group chat with everyone has been made by Soap with the chat being named ‘Operation: Wingman’. It seems things have just gone from bad to worse for him.

Note: I just want to thank everyone for the support on this story; it really means a lot to me! Would anyone at this point believe me if I said this was meant to be a cute and simple one-shot? Now I'm on part 6 and the whole thing is over 8k work count!

Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown

@141tfsan @arminarletssword @openup-yourmind @evie-119 @v1x3n

@whos-fran @trcyyyyy @azkza @kaoyamamegami

#x reader #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #call of duty #fem reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #female reader #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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dejwrld · 8 months

Text

— in which the heir to the biggest mafia/yakuza in japan is in an arranged marriage with a foreigner & it turns into a wicked jealous filled obsession. inspo from happy together by the turtles

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, her/she pronouns, female pet names, yandere themes, yandere!ushijima, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gore, yakuza/mafia au, choking kink, character death, possessive!ushijima, ooc!ushijima (only said ooc cause he does not act like the way he acts in hq), toxic relationship, ushijima father slaps him in one part, arranged marriage au // minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀this fic won the mystery fanfic repost poll.

HOW COULD SOMEONE’S HANDS FEEL SO COLD? That thought lingered in the back of your mind when you felt Ushijima Wakatoshi’s hand placed on the lower part of your back as you waltzed around the venue. You remembered how his touch felt so cold that it sent a shiver down your spine even though minutes ago you complained about how hot you were in the vintage well-tailored white dress. You never expected your life to change suddenly due to your father. It was a bit comical considering that he got you into this marriage and didn’t even bother to show up to walk you down the aisle.

You felt like a sheep among some vicious hungry wolves. You had no friends in Japan. You had no family in Japan. Just Ushijima and his circle. You couldn’t even contact your family unless they contacted you first. You would think that you were the president’s daughter, but you were only one of the richest men in the world's daughter. That came with consequences. Your life was always under a microscope. Eat this. Dress this way. Don’t date this person. Attend this university. You didn’t actually think you’d be scribbling ‘have an assassination threat on your head’ off your Bingo card.

So here you were, bound with Ushijima Wakatoshi for your safety and the future of your family. You should have known that an arranged marriage was going to be put on the table. Someone would question why a foreigner has been hanging around the notorious family that controls more than eight districts in Japan. You planned to lay low, enjoy your time in Japan, maybe go back to school, and then when your father contacted Ushijima’s father, go back home. But the thing is, you knew that there wasn’t any going back home. For all you know, your father could have been dead. The thing is you knew this marriage wasn’t going to be rainbows and sunshine, Ushijima didn’t even smile as you waltzed down the aisle in a room of strangers. You remembered the deadpan look he gave you, but that last dance is what caused your stomach to form the most horrendous knots as he brought you closer. You could feel his breath trickle at your earlobe before he whispered, “The only one for me is you, and you for me. We both have a lot on the line when it comes to this fuckin’ marriage. We’re stuck with each other, so let’s make sure this work.”

Even though he uttered those words in your ear over two months ago, you and Ushijima just couldn’t work. It wasn’t like you weren’t putting in the effort, you did. You even learned how to cook some of his favorite dishes and even then, you still were met with a harsh cold steel door. You remembered vividly when it seemed like a switch was turned on in his head. You sat in the living room like the pretty wife you were. The diamond ring on your wedding finger glistened under the family mansion light, you hated to admit that Ushijima picked out a beautiful ring when there wasn’t much meaning behind it. You were confused about why you and Ushijima were summoned here in the first place. It wasn’t like you two were doing anything romantic anyway, just you watching the maids cater to him due to him partying the previous night. When you heard the harsh footsteps and your eyes watched as men bowed as the Takashi Utsui entered the room. By the looks of his face, he looked pissed and your mind instantly panicked. You toyed with the ends of your dress as you watch Ushijima stand up with urgency to greet his father.

Your eyes bulged outward when you heard and witnessed the harsh slap Takashi placed against Ushijima’s cheek. The room was so silent and you observed everyone in the room. No one bulged at the action as if it happened before. You watched as one of Takashi’s men rushed to his side handing him a folder. He opened it with urgency revealing the photo of Ushijima in a club the previous night. A woman was on his lap kissing his neck. Your eyes instantly lowered in embarrassment. Even though this marriage had no love, you still felt a form of humiliation.

“What did I tell you before you said I do to that woman right there?” Takashi’s finger points at you.

Ushijima's jaw clenched tightly as if he was holding back an explosive bomb.

“Huh? I can’t seem to hear you.” Takashi stepped forward toward his son. His head tilted to the side as he was trying to hear Ushijima’s words.

“That if I embarrass her, I’m dishonoring my family,” Ushijima said.

“And?” Takashi asked.

“And she’s a part of the family now,” Ushijima said.

Your heart was beating so hard at the word. You watched as Takashi's fingers combed through his hair. He let out a sigh to calm himself down before he’s walking over to you extending his hand for you to take. You hesitantly took it as he helped you up, walking by his angry son to walk into the family garden in the backyard. Your hand grasped at his arm as you walked by his side. The sweet scent of the Cherry Blossom tree that was in their backyard. You remembered Ushijima mentioning that his father got the tree grown in the backyard because his mother adored the scent of when the petals free-fell to the ground. However, even though his parents divorced his father still made sure the tree was taken care of.

“I want you to go out,” His father commented as he was walking around the garden. He could feel your grasp upon his arm tighter, “You’ve been trapped up in the house while my reckless son goes out and embarrasses our family,” He commented.

“I don’t know anyone to go out with sir,” You commented. “I would rather be home, especially considering that it would only be a burden. Do I need to remind you, that I have a hit out on me?” You pointed it out.

You watched as his lips formed a straight line, “Of course. I won’t let you go out alone, you’ll be with my assistant and her friends. Plus, I’m sure I’ll have some men in there if you need them,” he reminded.

You would look at him before simply nodding, not bothering to argue with him once again. “Okay.” was the only thing you said before he let go of your hand.

“Please enjoy your time out. I would hate to have to tell your father you hate it here.” He responded. “You deserve to be happy and I’ll be sure to ensure that.”

You forced a smile on your face which seems like you were doing that a lot. The sweet scent of the cherry blossoms lingered up your nostrils before you were speaking once again, “Okay, thank you.” You gave his arm a squeeze and a kind smile before departing to go back into the luxury home.

You were expecting to be met by Ushijima, but he was nowhere to be found. It didn’t particularly shock you, he got embarrassed in front of everyone. You were expecting to be met with your usual driver who hardly spoke to you unless you spoke to him first but instead was met with Tendou and Kai. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at him, “Let me guess, you’re taking me home.” You sighed and you didn’t get an answer, but you did follow them outside the huge mansion.

When you got in the SUV, you would sit in the back instantly indulging in the things on your phone before you heard Kai’s voice. “He actually does care about you, you know?”

You would shake your head, “Has a funny way of showing it.” You answered.

“But, please do not do something tonight that will upset him,” Tendo warned as his fingertips tapped at the steering wheel.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He gets to go out and act a damn fool, but wants to lose his mind if I do the same,” You kissed your teeth. “I’m going to go out and have so much fun like his father said to do.”

The remaining amount of time in the car was quiet before you were dropped off at the luxury mansion that you resided in. Despite you decorating the huge mansion to your liking, it still didn’t feel like home. You were greeted by one of the maids, and you would only tell her that she could take the day off, especially considering that you believed today was one of her children's birthdays.

“But Mr.—“ The maid's words were cut off by you.

“I will handle him. You guys can have the rest of the day off. Go enjoy your child’s birthday,” You explained as you watched her face light up before she walked away to grab her things.

FOR ONCE YOU WERE ENJOYING YOURSELF. As you were at the bar attempting to flag down one of the bartenders, you could feel a male figure squeeze himself next to you and the countless others at the bar. His tall stature towered over you as you attempted once again to get the bartender’s attention. However, the man interjected whistling and getting the bartender’s attention.

“That’s the trick, to get their attention,” He commented as he gave you a smile that you returned. It was like a bird calling as the bartender flocked to him effortlessly. “This beautiful young woman has been trying to get your attention. I’ve told you guys about not being aware of the customers in front of you.” He warned.

“Sorry sir, it’s a bit hectic back here.” The bartender apologized as his eyes traveled to you. But when he noticed who you were, he looked away with quickness. “What can I get you?”

You would ignore his sudden break of eye contact and begin to list the drinks your section wanted. “Could you get them served to that section also?” You pointed to the section on the left of the club. “Add an extra bottle and just charge it to Ushijima Wakatoshi’s card.”

The gentlemen next to you eyebrows raised as he was trying to mentally put a face to the name that fell off your tongue. You leaned against the bar patiently before speaking, “Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.” You gave him a kind smile as you watched one of the bottle girls load up the drinks on a tray to deliver to the section you were at.

“It’s no problem. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the wife of Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He responded.

You rolled your eyes hearing that statement, which the man caught instantly. “Is there a problem? Are you—”

Your words cut him off with a quickness. “It’s not a problem. I am his wife after all, but I just hate that here that’s all I’m known for.” You said to the gentlemen.

You understood that it was for the best for a lot of people to know who you were, but being known as the wife of a man who didn’t even take the marriage seriously himself felt even worst. You had so much more power than people expected, but here you were in an unknown world not being able to use that power.

You thanked the stranger once again before attempting to go back to the section, but you felt him tug you back towards him. He lets out a firm sigh before extending his hand toward you. “Let’s start over, I’m Lev Haiba. I own this club.” His hand motioned around the crowds of people in the nightclub.

You couldn’t help but snicker as you shook his head. “Y/N, heir to the biggest oil company in the world.” You answered. “But that has to stay between us.” You gave Lev a playful smirk and he only held his hand up in a defensive mode.

“Your secret is safe with me. I hope Japan is treating you well considering the uh—circumstances.” Lev says.

You could hear the pity in his voice. “I’m assuming you’ve heard the news of my loving husband?” You asked as the two of you were walking towards the section you were in.

“Everyone did. It was this club he was spotted doing said activities. However, it’s Ushijima Wakatoshi, no one is going to ruin his mood.” Lev admitted as he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “But I have said too much, I should get back to my job. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, once again feeling like the sheep in a field filled with wolves as you sat down in one of the chairs. You instantly picked up the drink wanting to drink the night away.

WHEN YOU RETURNED HOME, you dropped your YSL heels on the floor as you stumbled into the house. You glanced at your phone and saw that it was four in the morning. You couldn’t believe that you stayed out so late. You definitely were going to have to rain check with the afternoon tea session with Ushijima’s mother. You attempted to tiptoe your way further inside the house not wanting to wake Ushijima (if he was home). You were aware that on some occasions Ushijima men would be at your house. It didn’t shock you that they were here in your living room doing god knows what. However, the weird feeling under the bottom of your feet caused you to instantly sober up. It felt wet, slightly slippery. You glanced down and your eyes grew big at the sight you were seeing. You had stepped in a small splatter of blood that decorated the thin plastic layer that was on the floor. Your heart rate increased instantly as you stumbled back in a horrified panic to be met with Ushijima catching you from falling.

“I—“ Your words were stuck in your throat. Your hands were shaking harshly and your heart felt like it was trying to claw out your chest. Your eyes stared at your husband as the crimson-colored liquid stained the white Versace button-down shirt.

“It’s good to know you’ve made it home safely. Now let’s go get cleaned up. We’re both in need of a shower anyway.” He firmly said.

You felt Ushijima grab hold of your forearm. His blood-covered fingertips stained your brown skin. “But we have guests.” You stuttered out.

“That’s fine, they will be busy cleaning up the mess that you made,” Ushijima confirmed.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you were being tugged into the shared bedroom. With urgency, Ushijima closed the door behind him. “Strip.” was the only thing he said as his hands went up to unbutton the buttons on his shirt.

You did what you were told, letting the dress you wore fall to the ground. You crossed your arms over your chest preventing Ushijima from seeing you like this. You didn’t even notice that he had already stripped out of his expensive clothing. You could sense him towering over you before you finally croaked out some words, “You said my mess? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Goosebumps decorated your skin when you felt Ushijima’s fingertips tracing alongside your side. His fingertips engraved you with the possible sin he just committed before you arrived home. He stopped right at the soft fabric of the thong you wore, letting out a low hum before pushing them down. You didn’t argue against his action. You weren’t sure if you were too afraid to or if you just wanted to see where this would go. You stepped out of your underwear before watching Ushijima disappear into the bathroom. The sound of the shower could be heard before his voice broke you out of your broken thoughts. Like an obedient dog, you walked into the bathroom with your hands still attempting to cover your bare body. Ushijima was already in the hot steaming shower washing over the blood that was on him. “I’ve already seen you vulnerable before, remember our wedding night?” He asked. “There’s no need to hide your body away from me.” He answered.

“You never responded to what I said. What mess have I created? You’re the one that’s going out every night and acting a fool,” You reminded him.

Ushijima let out a sigh, “Just get in the fuckin’ shower and we can talk.” He says, “Please.”

Hearing him say please was a shock to you, you took a couple of steps forward opening the door of the walk-in shower to join him. In a different world, such an intimate moment would have your stomach flowing with butterflies. But right now, your stomach could only twist in dangerous knots while you let the steaming hot water heat your body. “Did you have fun last night?” Ushijima asked.

Your eyes met with his as you felt the warm cloth filled with soap brush against your body. He was kind enough to clean you himself. Similar to a doll maker creating a doll, you felt that’s what Ushijima was doing. You were his doll as soon as you walked down the aisle clutching onto his father’s arm. “I did. It was nice to not be bottled up in his house. It can get lonely sometimes,” You answered.

“You have the maids, it can’t be that lonely,” He responded.

That was true. During your time living here, you managed to get to know each of the eight maids and two groundskeepers that worked to make sure Ushijima’s home looked nice. But it still felt lonely, cold. It didn’t feel like a home.

“Although, I appreciate their help around the place. It’s not the same.” You answered as your finger went up to motion for the young man to turn so you could wash his back. “You know this. I’m not asking for much, but can we at least pretend we’re enjoying this marriage.”

“I’m actually enjoying this marriage,” Ushijima responded with a chuckle.

“You have such a weird way to show it. Going out every night, being seen with other women—“ You stopped abruptly to let out a weary sigh. Not sure if the sudden feeling of being lightheaded came from the hotness of the shower or the fact that you’re finally voicing your opinions to Ushijima. “It’s humiliating.”

Ushijima didn’t say much about your words. The two of you continued to shower in silence before eventually getting out of it. At this point, you had sobered as you toyed with the ends of the soft white rob Ushijima put you in. You watched as Ushijima waltzed back into the bedroom, “Well, let me show that I will change.”

Your body leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom bathroom, “Sex really can’t show me anything. Changed behavior though,” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Come on, when was the last time we actually had sex.”

“You’re deflecting from the original conversation Ushi,” You sighed as you walked towards the dresser to find something to wear.

As you were searching for something to sleep in, you could feel Ushijima’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He tugged you closer to his body and you felt the growing boner poking at the fatness of your butt. “You haven’t called me Ushi since our wedding night.” He commented.

“You’re so annoying.” You sighed, but you didn’t bulge out his touch. “We both were drunk as ever that night. I can’t believe you still remember that.”

“Of course, I remembered it. You moaned it so beautifully while your head was buried into a pillow,” Ushijima reminded you as you felt his lips press against the exposed skin on your neck.

You felt your skin grow hotter with each harsh nibble, lick, and bite on your neck. One of Ushijima’s hands disappeared inside your robe and straight in between your thighs. His index and middle fingers swiped at your wet folder and indulged in how wet you were while you seemed to melt into his touch. “You don’t remember, hmm? How your thighs couldn’t stop shaking once we were done?” He asked as his fingertips that were covered in your wetness would rub at your clit. “How you wet up the sheets so badly?”

You made direct eye contact with Ushijima in the mirror that was connected to the dresser. The once softness that was in his eyes for a split second was gone. You weren’t particularly super religious, but you were sure you were looking into the eyes of the devil. He undid your rob and tugged it off your bare body causing you to gasp suddenly. Your thighs quivered for more as you felt your own wetness stain the inside of your thighs. Ushijima stopped the subtle circular motion on your clit before he’s talking once again. “Tell me you remember that and I’ll help you cum,” His words tickled your earlobe and you nodded instantly.

“I remember. Ushi—“ You desperately coughed up those words. “I remember.”

“Good,” Ushijima said while the grip around your waist grew tighter. “Now be a good wife and go to the bed and get on all fours, darling.”

You did what you were told, being sure to grab a pillow to make yourself feel more comfortable. The anticipation bubbling into your stomach as you could sense Ushijima behind you. When you felt him tug you closer to the bed, you swallowed the large lump forming in your throat. Your cunt so eager to swallow his cock bit by bit even though you were sure he wasn’t going to be so gentle. When you felt the tip of Ushijima’s cock enter you, you chewed at your lower lip getting ready for him to instantly bottom down inside you. The faint memory of your wedding night when he specifically praised you on how well you took his dick swirled around your head.

This time he took his time. Pushing his cock inside you slowly, teasingly, until you were gasping for him to put it all the way in. His large hands grasped at your waist before his hips begin to drive forward to be met with the soft flesh of your butt. Your head buried into the pillow caging in your moans before Ushijima grabbed the pillow and tossed it. “I need my men to hear you while they’re cleaning up your mess.” He said firmly.

His fingers buried into the flesh of your skin while the sound of skin slapping against each other could be heard. Ushijima was in a complete trace as he watched his cock disappear into your addicting cunt. “Go ahead, moan out how good Ushi is making you feel while they clean up your mess.” He said through gritted teeth.

“What mess?” You hiccuped out through moans. Your eyesight grew blurry due to the tears that accumulated through Ushijima’s thrusts.

You let out a yelp when Ushijima grabbed a hold of your head tugging you upward. His chest pressed against your sweat-coated back before he let go of your hand to use that hand to snake around to your neck. “Don’t act foolish Y/N.” He answered.

You could feel Ushijima’s cock twitch inside you as he stopped his thrusts abruptly. His hand wrapped around your neck and you could feel him give it a slight squeeze before his thrusting continued. “You know my doll. When you press your thumb in someone’s windpipe, index finger to their carotid artery, and your middle finger applies pressure to their jugular vein…they’ll lose consciousness.” Ushijima said.

The heat of the moment of your breath grasping away for a couple of seconds due to Ushijima mimicking the same thing he just told her, he let go of you and shoved your face further into the fluffiness of the mattress. “Even when I nearly took your breath away, you only clutched around my cock even tighter.” He said darkly.

His words sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine as you moaned out helplessly. “Ushi!” You moaned out.

His thrusting only continued, ignoring your little whimpers before he leaned over placing wet kisses on the middle of your spine. “You know that only makes a person lose consciousness, but if you continue you can damage the cortex of your brain which leads to your death.” He uttered as he was thrusting.

His chest heaved upwards as he traced his name upon your skin. “It took less than 6 minutes for your little friend Lev to finally fuckin’ die when I wrapped my hands around his throat.” He said through groans. You could feel his thrusting grow sloppy, he was about to cum.

“I had to clean up your mess Y/N,” he said.

You felt yourself orgasm immediately. The dangerous shiver that went though your body made your body go into complete shock. Your gasping out for Ushijima. The thought of him killing a man that talked to you pushed you to the edge. Perhaps you did flutter around his cock even more at the sound of those words coming out his mouth. Ushijima still fucked you through the explosive orgasm until he too was cumming mess, not bothering to pull out either. Filling you up to the brim with his cum just to trap you as his.

He let your body collapse on the bed like a rag doll. You were completely out of breath with his cum leaking out of you and when you met his eyes, they were soft once again.

“We’re starting a clean slate starting now. No more outside interferences when it comes to our marriage. We’re going to be happy together if we like it or not.” He said as he leaned down to place a kiss upon your temple.

“Now get some rest, my doll, we have tea with my mother in about eight hours.”

You really were still a sheep upon the family of wolves.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #angelshubnetwork #chosoistkinktober23 #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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into-crazy · 7 days

Text

hot tub surprise

Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot

Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU

Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.

Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+

Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡

💕divider by @saradika-graphics

There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.

Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.

You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.

However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.

The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.

Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.

Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.

Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.

Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.

Thursday evening.

Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.

"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."

"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.

You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"

"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"

Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"

You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.

Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."

"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.

Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!

Friday arrives.

You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.

"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.

Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.

You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.

Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.

You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.

Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!

Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.

The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"

His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."

He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.

"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"

This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."

The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."

He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.

The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."

Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."

He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."

You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.

A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"

You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."

"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."

Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."

You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."

He exhales heavily. "Look at me."

You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.

"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."

"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.

"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"

A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."

He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."

You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.

Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."

Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.

He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."

Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.

He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"

"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.

"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"

Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."

A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."

He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.

Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.

He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."

His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.

"Want something, darlin'?"

You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."

"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."

You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."

"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"

His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."

His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.

"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."

"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."

"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.

His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."

"What happens after that?"

He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."

You grin widely at his answer.

#into-crazy #negan smith #twd negan #negan au #negan smith x reader #negan smith x y/n #negan imagine #the walking dead #fanfic #twd #negan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan

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