#which they checked in detail and i was sweating bullets BECAUSE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silentglassbreak · 2 months

Note

The plot with Jolly at the fest sound like very interesting story. I'd love to read it

I didn't get too much detail on this one, so I'm just going to run with it? First time writing for Jolly, so let's give it a shot.

**After writing notes: WOW this one went in an entirely different direction than I expected...

It just happened. I hope someone enjoys it. LOL.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Soft smut, mentions of death

Sweater Weather

Why does no one ever have the balls to tell Noah he’s being a diva?

Listen, the man is my brother. We’re family. För alltid mitt blod. I would take a bullet for him, and I have no doubt he would do the same for me.

But, sometimes, he’s so fucking irritating.

How hard it must be to have such talent and be so attractive, everyone loves you, and you work hard to maintain an image. However, taking out the stress and pressures on the only guys who also know how being in this band feels?

Noah was arguing with one of the stage techs, telling him that the image they had prepared to be behind us doing our set was wrong. He’s right, they had prepared the image of the mannequins, when it was supposed to be the album cover, but that wasn’t this poor little man’s fault.

“God, it’s not a hard fucking thing to do!”

“I’m sorry, dude. I’m putting in the request to have it switched.” The man wasn’t exactly cowering, but he was intimidated for sure.

I stepped up behind Noah, letting a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax slightly under my fingers.

“C’mon man. It’ll be fine. We have an hour until our set. They’ll get it fixed.”

I felt him take a deep breath, and saw how he closed his eyes to center himself. This was something I taught him.

The tech scurried away, leaving us alone in our tent.

It was so fucking hot, which was interesting, given we were in Michigan. Upheaval festival was one of my favorites. It was a smaller event, which meant a more regular experience with the fans. Usually, it also meant better food and beer vendors.

“Hey, guess what I found?” Nick came bounding into the tent, a large mug in his hand.

“Beer, I assume?” Noah pointed his attitude at Nick, who rolled his eyes in return.

“They have a beer garden! Jolly, they’ve got a Swedish ale you might dig!”

I snorted. “Guarantee it isn’t actually Swedish.” Grabbing my hat from the couch, I placed it over my long hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail, and headed for the exit.

“I will go check it out though. Folio out there?”

Nick nodded. “He was spotted, so he’s chatting with some fans.”

I smirked. “Let’s hope he can get out before the set.”

Noah turned and looked at me. “Don’t be late getting back, please! We go on in under an hour.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, I headed for the mayhem of the festival.

As suspected, there was nothing Swedish about the beer, but it did have good flavor. I stood to the right of the beer garden, sipping my mug, and people watched.

It was always so fascinating to see the mix of people who came to these shows. European festivals were one thing but American festivals? You saw everything from multi-colored hair to breasts only barely covered by mesh tops or pasties. It was a sight to behold.

After a moment of zoning out, I looked down at my watch to see I still had twenty minutes before we had to head to the stage. Noah was likely bursting because I wasn’t back yet, and I smiled to myself at the thought. He could sweat for a few minutes, would do him good.

Deciding I should at least start making my way back there, my eyes scanned for the direction I needed to go, somehow getting turned around. Eyes searching over heads and bodies, I didn’t even see the person coming toward me, knocking my shoulder directly into them as I began walking forward.

My beer sloshed over the edge of the cup, pouring foam down the girl’s arm.

“Fuck! I am so sorry!” I turned, and my eyes locked onto the face in front of me.

Wisps of natural, dirty blonde hair floated in the slight breeze, framing a tan, small face. The rest of her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a bun, tightly secured. Her eyes were lightly lined with black, mascara clinging to her lashes. Pink, full lips covered by only a thin gloss were hanging open, startled by the cold liquid on her shoulder.

“Shit! I didn’t even see you, I’m so sorry!” She apologized, wiping her arm with the sweater tied around her waist. Her white tank top was now an amber color on one side.

I couldn’t speak. She was gorgeous.

“Jesus, I’m such a fucking klutz.” She groaned, hastily grabbing napkins off of the cart behind us and wiping at her arm, and then at my hand.

When her ice blue eyes looked up at me, I felt the air rush back into my lungs.

“No, no that was my fault. I’m very sorry.”

When the realization crossed her face, I saw it like a firework exploding behind her vision.

“You’re Jolly fucking Karlsson!”

This made me chuckle. “Something like that, yeah.”

I reached a hand out, which she took graciously, smiling at me with a wide, toothy grin.

“It’s such an honor. I’m a huge fan. I was actually rushing so I could get back to see your set!”

Her words snapped me back.

Fuck.

“Oh, good! I’ve got to get over there! But, uh,” My brain was working overtime. “maybe I can find you after? You can buy me another beer?”

I let any suave I had take over, which seemed to work decently, given she blinked multiple times.

“Sure, of course!”

“Jolly!” My head snapped over to see Matt barreling toward me. “Dude we go on in ten minutes!”

Looking back, I watched as her face fell slightly, my arm now being physically pulled in the opposite direction. Being led away, I hollered.

“I’ll meet you back here!”

I was only given a nod, and a wave in response.

The set was electric, Noah's earlier nerves rolling off of him comfortably as he put on a show. Nick was absolutely flawless on his bass, flipping his hair over and over. Folio, as usual, lost himself in the drum beats, freestyling here and there.

I, however, was way off my game. Something about my encounter with the mesmerizing blonde earlier kept me thoroughly distracted. Over and over, my eyes swam through the sea of people in the crowd, trying my hardest to find a blonde messy bun and steel blue eyes, but it was in vain. I couldn't see anything.

I thought about her again and again, unable to shake the feeling of wonder from my bones. For whatever reason, I needed to see this girl again. Her aura, her energy, it radiated beauty, rarity, like a gemstone.

Pärla. A magnificent treasure.

The thoughts racing in my brain made me lose my focus more than once. During Nowhere to Go, I missed several notes, my guitar making an awful screeching sound. I forgot to sing backup vocals during Limits entirely, earning me a glare from Noah, and a look of concern from Nick.

I had ignored it, and continued on, my eyes still searching. It was hopeless. I would find her after. I had to.

Once Dethrone concluded, and I ran off stage, setting my guitar down, I felt a hand pull my arm, flinging my backward.

"Dude, are you okay?" Nick looked straight at me. "You drunk?"

I furrowed my brow. "Of course not."

"Well, you don't really fuck up on stage, Jolly, so what the fuck?" Noah was standing directly behind Nick, eyes shooting me down with fury.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry. I was looking for someone."

This made them both leer backward a moment. "Who?" Noah asked.

"This girl. I met her at the beer garden."

They reacted equally differently. Nick let up a sly smirk, his eyebrows raising. Noah, however, narrowed his eyes.

"You almost blew the set for some broad?"

Rolling my eyes, I turned toward them. "I didn't blow the fucking set, Noah. Quit being so dramatic."

I could see the fire burning behind his irises, which I would definitely pay for later in the form of his attitude.

"Are you fucking kidding, dude?" Noah began scolding me, but Nick held up a hand.

"Chill. Jolly never fucks up, ever." He turned to Noah, giving him stern eyes. "And the set was fine."

Huffing, Noah stomped away, throwing a tantrum like a child.

I smiled at Nick, grateful. "You know how he gets at festivals."

Nodding, I began to walk away. "Got to go."

Waving him off, I weaved through all of the people behind the stage area, making my way back out to our tent, where Davis and Matt were already packing up equipment. I grabbed a clean shirt out of my backpack, and slipped it over my head. I pulled half of my hair up in a tight bun on top of my head, and slipped on my sunglasses.

Headed back out, I noticed the sun was nearly set, and the beer garden area was almost vacant, most people over by the stages. Sleep Token had just started, so the vendors were long abandoned by almost everyone.

I found the napkin cart, and stood, arms crossed, scanning around. After about ten minutes, I had to remove my sunglasses to be able to see clearly as night was falling. A chill ran up my spine as the temperature began to drop. No sign of her, but I didn't mind waiting.

Thirty minutes.

Forty-five.

One hour.

I stood, eyes glancing around, head bobbing to Sleep Token's heavy bass and Vessel's incredible vocals. However, my mind was elsewhere. Maybe she didn't want to miss their set? Maybe she forgot where to meet? I didn't know how to find her.

I didn't even know her name.

It was a mystery, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I was going to have to give up soon. The festival would be ending, and I would have to get back with the guys, head back to the hotel. The thought made my stomach sink. Why was I so entranced with the idea of this girl? All she did was spill beer on me. Why did I insist on finding her?

"Jolly?"

I spun, much faster than I should've, on my heel, and was met with cold, freezing blue eyes, staring up at me. Her gloss was worn off, and her eyeliner was smudging ever so slightly under her eyes. Her bun was long gone, blonde hair now free-flowing down across her shoulders.

"Pärla."

Her smile was confused. "Uh,"

"It means gem. I didn't know your name, so I decided to go with that."

The blush on her cheeks was a sweet addition to that gorgeous sun kissed skin.

"I like that." She rubbed her palms on the front of her jeans. I noticed her sweater was now around her shoulders, covering the beer stain on her tank top. "I'm sorry, I know we said we'd meet after your set. I had to get one of my friends back to our hotel."

Shaking my head, I waved her off. "No worries."

"Did you wait long?"

An hour wasn't a long time, I don't think.

"Nope."

With a finger pointed at the beer garden, she asked, "So, you want that beer?"

I perused this. I wasn't much for a drink right now, comfortable with just talking to her. "You going to have one?"

Shrugging, she looked over toward the crowd. "I don't think so. I've got to get back to the hotel with my friends soon. One of them is really drunk, and is a sick mess."

My face soured. "That doesn't sound fun."

Scrunching her face, she stuck her hands in the pocket of her sweater. "It isn't. I'm pretty annoyed about it, actually."

Nodding, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had been ignoring it for a while.

Matt: Dude, if you're coming with us, we gotta go now.

I typed a quick response.

Me: Meet you back at the hotel.

We walked around the festival grounds for a while, just chatting about different things, somehow managing to distract her from the fact that she should go back to her hotel, and I, mine.

"You're from Florida?"

She nodded. "Daytona. I hate it."

"Why? Isn't it sunny and beautiful all year-round?" I chuckled.

She joined me. "Sure, if you like a lot of drugs and alligators everywhere."

We found some benches, having a seat. I pulled a pack of smokes from my pocket, lighting one.

She stared at me, smirking. I lifted the pack toward her. "Want one?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Thanks, though."

Blowing out the smoke, I turned my attention back to her face.

"So why come to Michigan for a festival?"

Her eyes were lost on the crowd, amused. "Why not?" She leaned back on her seat. "I love the adventure of traveling. Seeing different cities. If I get to enjoy good music while I'm at it, why not?"

"You get to meet a lot of cool people doing it, huh?"

Looking over to me, I saw her lips turn up slightly. "Yeah, I do."

A cool silence fell over us for a moment while I finished my cigarette.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her head turn toward me. "It's closing."

We noticed the bodies moving past us toward the exit. I nodded. "We should get going soon."

I swore I saw a flash of disappointment cross her features, but only for a second before a look of excitement crept across her face.

"Hey, you want to go somewhere?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

Smirking, she stood, pulling at my arm. "I know a place, c'mon."

With no time to protest, she pulled me, and I had to nearly jog to keep up. I watched her hair, looking nearly silver against the bright lights at the parking area, fly behind her as she ran toward the Uber line.

We waited, and I slipped my sunglasses back on, and tried not to be obvious.

Once our turn came, she leaned forward to give the driver the address, quiet enough so I wouldn't hear. The driver raised a brow.

"I'm pretty sure it's closed for the night."

She waved at him. "Just go. It'll be fine."

With a nod, he began driving. I stared at her. "Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

Her teeth flashed. "You'll have to wait and find out." And she turned to look out at the darkness beyond her window.

Something inside me wasn't worried.

We walked along the boardwalk, out onto the sand. We could hear the soft waves crashing, but it was difficult to see beyond she shoreline.

"Welcome to Lake Michigan!"

The stars, bright and vast, seemed to bounce off of the stillness of the water. It was breathtaking. She bound ahead of me, slipping her shoes off and holding them. Her eyes were fixed on the water, before she dropped down in the sand, looking up at the sky.

I followed suit, taking a heavy seat next to her. It was so quiet, so calm. We weren't supposed to be here at midnight, but something in the chilled air felt so serene.

"What did you call me before?" Her voice was even, still looking at the sky.

"Hm?" I had to shake out of my thoughts.

"At the festival. You called me a name. In another language."

I smiled. "Pärla." She looked back at me. "It means gem."

A warm grin spread across her lips. "I like that." She echoed her earlier sentiment.

It occurred to me at that point, that she still had not told me her first name.

"What else do I call you?"

Her eyes narrowed, thinking. What was there to think about?

"I think that'll do."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Her gaze turned back up to the sky. "Pärla. That's good."

"You're not going to tell me your name?" Confusion laced my voice.

Hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes transfixed on the stars, she bit her lip. "Not yet."

It was strange, but what could I do?

Silence fell over us again, but she eventually spoke up.

"Do you ever miss Sweden?"

Clearing my throat, I mimicked her body language, pulling my knees up.

"Sometimes. It's my home."

Her lips were pulled in a tight line, and I saw what looked to be a tear brimming at her eyes. "I never miss mine. I'm never going back."

"Why not?"

Turning to look at me, a slow tear rolled down her cheek, but she held a sad smile. "I'm happy right where I am."

Trying to process what she said, I struggled, because all I could feel was the urge to grab the tear with my finger, and wipe it from her face. I kept my hands to myself, however.

"So," I tried to lighten the conversation. "how long have you been a fan?"

This made a genuine grin crack across her face. "About a year. I heard you guys for the first time on TikTok. When I looked into the music, I was hooked."

I nodded, listening to the smooth sounds of the waves. "Yeah, that's how a lot of people found us."

"It's good music. I really enjoyed the new album."

"Yeah, it was fun to make."

She looked directly at me. "Do you like being in a band? What's it like?"

That made me huff out a laugh. "It's something else, that's for sure. Chaotic, at times. Rewarding, most others."

Amused, she crossed her legs under her and turned her body to face me. "What are the other guys like?" I raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. "I'm not trying to fangirl, just curious."

Shaking my head, I turned to face her as well. "Nick is awesome. Mediator when things get tense. He tends to keep a cool head easier than the rest of us." I sighed. "Folio is...young. He's so lighthearted, and full of life. I envy that sometimes." She smiled at that.

"And Noah is..." I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "Brilliant, but can be a lot sometimes."

"Like how?"

"Like," I intertwined my fingers. "he gets anxious. He's a perfectionist, so there's never room for error. It can be a pain in the ass, but we owe a lot of our success to it."

She nodded. "He's talented."

"Very. So, we put up with it, mostly."

Peering up at me from under her lashes, she spoke low. "And what about you, Jolly? What are you like?"

This gave me pause. How do I answer that?

"I'm..." I really had to think about that answer. "I don't know, really. I'm just, me? The guys call me the 'Dad' of the group, but I'm really only a few years older than Nick."

A hand slid over my knee, and I glanced down at it. "Well, I don't know you very well. Only from what time we've spent the last few hours, but I think you're very interesting."

Resting my chin on a fist, I considered her words. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I do. I think you're very sweet. And complex."

"Complex?"

She let out a giggle, which broke the quiet air with a sweet sound.

"Well, you got in an Uber with a complete stranger, without knowing where you're going, and now you're sitting on a beach in the middle of the night."

This made me smirk. "Point taken."

"That's shows adventure. I like it."

I focused on the ring piercing her left nostril, and the small batch of freckles on her nose. Her hair was hanging long, the moonlight illuminating it.

I felt the pull, the same one that brings the planets together. The pull that gravity is made of. Her eyes flashed back and forth between mine, and her lips parted so slightly. Instinctively, I leaned close to her until I could feel her breath against my face. It was cool, almost cold.

When the soft skin of her lips touched mine, she took a breath in, gasping.

My hand lifted to press against her cheek, pulling her closer, and pressing our lips together.

Like a lightning bolt struck the sand between us, we were lit up with energy. Her body lunged toward me, knees climbing up into my lap as she kissed me, tongue pressing into my mouth. My hands wrapped around to her back, pulling her into me, as she writhed against me.

Her hips pressed down, jeans grinding against mine, the lack of friction making it nearly unbearable. My lips kissed down to her neck, sucking and biting at the soft skin. Her hair had fallen over her face, eyes fluttered closed. Her fingers were grazing down my chest, pulling at the fabric of my t-shirt, and eventually landing to the button of my jeans.

My own hands located the access point of her pants, popping them open. Disconnecting for a moment, she pulled back to shimmy out of her jeans, leaving her in a pair of black panties, kneeling in the sand in front of me.

Staring directly into my eyes, she reached to my jeans and opened them effortlessly, unzipping them, my aching cock bulging against the fabric of my boxers. Her hand slipped to the waistband, freeing my erection. I stared at her with intent. Something in her eyes was dark, something I couldn't place.

"Do you want to?" Her voice was so small. So desperate.

I couldn't respond, so I only reached for her, pulling her face back to me. I laid her down on her back, leaning over her and letting my mouth mold over hers, one hand slipping down her stomach, to her core.

My fingers easily grazed past the elastic of the underwear, running through the soft patch of curls just underneath, until I felt the moisture of her lips between my fingers.

She moaned into my mouth as I slipped my middle finger inside of her, curling it to press against that soft, sweet spot that had her breathing erratic.

"Fuck." She breathed against my mouth. My hand was pumping her hard, a delicious wet sound nearly drowned out by the waves behind us.

"I don't have a condom on me, Pärla."

Her eyes snapped open, and she smiled. "I'm okay, if you are."

Morals? Rational thought? Responsibility? What is that?

I was okay. More than okay. This could be bad. Dangerous, even. Something in my gut - no - my soul told me that this needed to happen, and it needed to happen now.

Steady fingers pulled her panties down, slipping them off, before I hovered over her, lining the head up with her entrance.

As slow and precise as possible, I pressed in, my eyes falling closed with the vibrant sensation that engulfed me. She let out a long, deep groan with me.

"Oh God, Jolly."

I let my lips fall back down to the flesh on her neck, thrusting in and out comfortably, savoring the feel of her on my skin.

We went on like this for longer than I would've expected. Our voices echoed off of the water, the darkness swallowing us as our bodies synchronized. Her pussy tightened around me each time I pulled out, begging for more.

Eventually, I sped up the snapping of my hips, leaning up to get a better angle, pulling her knee up to her chest.

Her hands dug into the sand around us, head careened backward.

"Oh Jolly, fuck, so fucking good." She was biting down on her lip so hard, it was sure to bleed.

I was so close. I needed her release. "Come for me, Pärla." My breathing began stuttering. "Let go, for me."

A long, visceral moan left her lips, and I felt her walls spasm around me as I began emptying into her, my orgasm smacking me hard in the chest.

I pumped us through it, one hand holding her face, watching the waves of pleasure rush over it.

Once we slowed to a stop, I collapsed next to her, a lazy smile on my face.

"That was..." I started, too tired to finish my sentence.

"Unreal." Her words were stark. Matter of fact. Her eyes were looking back up at the stars.

I followed suit, zipping my jeans back up.

"I'm glad I met you today, Jolly."

I let my eyes fall on her again, and smiled. "Me too, Pärla."

My eyes opened to a flashlight shining directly on them.

"Hey, asshole!" I squinted, my hands coming up to shield my vision from the abrasive light. "You can't fucking sleep here. Go find a fucking shelter!"

"What?" I sat up, looking up at the person in front of me. A police officer.

"You've got to get out of here, man. I don't want to take you in."

I held my hands up in defense, standing to my feet. My eyes glanced around, realizing I was very much alone.

"Where's the girl I was with?"

The cop raised an eyebrow. "No one but you here, bud. Let's go."

His hand grabbed my arm, leading me off the beach. I turned back toward the water, hollering out into the darkness.

"Pärla?!"

No response. Just silence.

A week had gone by, and I was back home.

I had done everything I could think of to find her, but still came up with nothing. No name. No number. Just a physical description and vague location. Have you any idea how many blonde-haired, blue-eyed, tan-skinned girls are in Daytona, FL? It was comical.

After about four days, I had pretty much given up. Part of me felt hurt. Why had she left? Was she okay? She knew me, why hadn't she reached out?

Was she just in it for the sex? Or to say she screwed a member of the band? Did she regret it?

Something felt wrong. Her presence, her energy. It felt so genuine. I struggled to believe she really just ran off, leaving me to fall asleep alone on that beach.

I had Ubered back to the hotel, heading straight to Noah's room to tell him what happened. It was 4AM by the time I made it back, and he looked at me like I was insane.

Still, he showed his human side for a moment, and empathized with me, offering to help try and find her.

Back in Los Angeles, I was sitting in the studio, trying to perfect a guitar rift, when Noah bounded in with Folio. We had everyone together for the next two weeks before we left for the next festival.

"I don't get why people are so scummy."

I raised an eyebrow at Folio's words. "What's that?"

He turned to look at me, falling into a chair. "This article, man. About Upheaval?"

I stopped my strumming, looking up to give him my full attention.

I took note that Noah was scrolling on his phone fervently.

"What about it?"

Noah looked up at me, pursing his lips. "I guess someone got really hurt?"

"Not hurt. Someone fucking died, dude."

This made me furrow my brows. "What?"

"Yeah. Some girl got trampled in the fucking crowd."

Noah rolled his eyes. "The article I read said she had a seizure, and fell into the crowd. They didn't get her out in time."

"During which set?"

"Sleep Token." Noah responded.

"Wow, really? I saw damn near the entire thing. I didn't see anything happen."

"Well, that's the point, man. No one did, until the end. By that time, she had choked or something." Noah handed his phone to me, and I noticed it was scrolled to the bottom of the article.

"It's bullshit they waited so long to say something." Folio chimed in.

Noah shrugged. "Trying to protect the festival's reputation, I guess. Too bad. She was fucking cute, too."

My thumb scrolled to the top of the article, taking a moment as it was long.

When the picture at the top came into view, my hand that held my rig went slack, dropping the instrument on the floor.

It didn't make sense. It was a mistake of some kind.

25 Year Old Female Dies At Music Festival - Safety Protocols Being Investigated

The photograph that stared back at me, mocking my dropped jaw and widened eyes.

"Jolly, you good, dude?" Folio asked as he reached down to grab my guitar, now on the floor.

I couldn't respond. My blood had coagulated in my veins. My skin hardened to stone as my eyes stared at the picture, mind blanking.

The girl in the picture stared into my very soul.

Dirty blonde hair. Ice blue eyes. Small patch of freckles. Plush pink lips.

Pärla.

#jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens cult

25 notes · View notes

try-set-me-on-fire · 6 months

Note

What's the more depressed Buck fic have you posted snippets for it??

I haven’t, I’m not sure I’m ever going to fully write this one out because it might be dramatic to the point of trashiness hshsddhdh, but, yeah, what it says on the tin, Buck but with the depression sliders turned up, and flipping the ‘passively suicidal’ dial to occasionally active. Also he and Eddie are like even closer and more codependent and Buck sleeps in Eddie’s bed somewhat frequently and they kiss sometimes without even internally clocking that as something potentially romantic. Like they’ll be dating other people and still sleep next to each other and kiss sometimes and it doesn’t even occur to them that that might be not the best thing to do. They eventually get together actually at Hen and Karen’s wedding but even then don’t consider all the other sleeping together and kissing as part of that. It was just a thing they did, it’s fine.

I only have one half written scene for this, I’ll put it under a cut because it deals with self harm and past attempts, it takes place uhh I could never decide if it’s sometime in season two or after lawsuit arc (which I’m not sure would play out the same in this au, just like timeline wise). Sometime fairly early in their time together anyway.

Buck has a beer in his hand when Eddie notices, a detail that sticks in his head later.

“Shit!” He says it loud enough that Buck jumps a little, bottle almost sliding through his fingers. “Buck, is that- did you get hurt?”

“Huh?” He doesn’t think he did, they hadn’t been on any particularly strenuous or dangerous calls in the last shift, and it’s been a whole day since then so he thinks he would have felt it by now.

“You’re bleeding, man,” Eddie says with a worried frown, gesturing down at his leg.

Buck looks and he doesn’t realize what he’s going to find, what it means, until he sees red soaking through the right inner thigh of his sweatpants, and things would have gone easier, probably, Eddie would have to know if he’d said something like shit, that’s weird, I’ll go check it out. Except he doesn’t say that, he panics; he slaps a hand over the fuzzy line and snaps up to look at Eddie like he’s done something wrong. Eddie’s not an idiot. Buck sees the moment he puts two and two together, how wide his eyes get.

“I-“ Buck chokes, any and all excuses shriveling up before he can find them, so he says “I’ll just-“ and flees to the bathroom.

His leg is a bit of a mess. The fabric of the sweat pants peels away from his skin a little painfully with how much blood there is. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to cut this deep, it had just been awhile since he’d given in to the impulse and he tends to over do it after time spent holding back. He breaths steadily through his nose as he looks around the bathroom, hesitating over towels he doesn’t want to ruin.

There’s a knock. “Buck?” Eddie sounds kind of small and scared, and it makes Buck’s guts twist uncomfortably. Fuck. “Buck, I- Can I come in? I have the first aid kit, I just- I want to make sure you’re okay.”

[tender wound care, a little bit of talking about Buck’s self harm, Eddie very worried and mad as an extension of that worry and trying to hold all that in and Buck fucking guilty about making Eddie feel like this but just a little bit relieved that someone knows]

As Buck reaches for the ice pack the back of his hand drags across the outside of Eddie’s wrist, and though he’s seen the scar there a thousand times it’s the first time he’s felt the puckered skin. He can’t help the way his hand twists, fingers circling, holding, feeling. Eddie blinks at him, looks down at where they’re connected.

“It’s a bullet wound,” he says, voice sticking a little, rasping out of his mouth.

“I know,” Buck says quickly.

“Buck.” Eddie’s eyes dart back and forth between Buck’s own. “Buck, have you…”

He’s not sure if he should be truthful, he showed too much of the ugly underside of himself tonight already, but the moment's hesitation is long enough for Eddie to drag in a ragged inhale. Buck closes his eyes, drops his chin to his chest. “Twice.” It’s quiet enough in the bathroom that Buck thinks Eddie might be holding that inhale, trapping the air in his lungs. “Or… I don’t know, maybe three- I don’t know if the motorcycle counts.” He opens his eyes, laughing a little without much humor. “I guess if I don’t know if it counts, it probably counts, yeah?”

He is breathing, turns out. Buck can see Eddie’s chest move in and out, so he must be. His mouth is clamped shut and his eyes are frightened again and Buck feels a little sick because of it. “When?” It’s just a whisper, and then Eddie’s eyebrows come together. “I mean- you don’t have to- you don’t have to tell me, Buck, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t…”

Buck raises an eyebrow, because he’s sitting on the man’s toilet with his boxers shoved into his groin so Eddie can clean the mess of his thigh. It’s a little late to be shy. He sighs, scrubs a hand over his eyes, and then turns that arm to show off the scar running away from his elbow, a story he’s laughed about before. “I didn’t fall from the balcony. I jumped off the roof.” Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, but Buck can’t stop now. “I looked up- I looked up how high you have to be. What’s fatal. Thought I had a good chance, and- and mom and dad weren’t there, figured even if I didn’t- even if it wasn’t immediate, I’d be… dead by the time they got home. But a neighbor saw me do it.”

[He left a note on the counter that he thinks his parent might have just thrown away, they certainly never brought it up, and kind of brushed the whole thing under the rug. They never took him to any suggested follow up therapy or anything. When he was roaming the world in his early twenties he’d sometimes get antidepressants off friends but like those don’t really work if you just take one every once in awhile. When he got the job at the fire station he finally had insurance and could get an actual prescription but the first kind he tried really didn’t agree with him and he ended up taking a bunch a once but he called Hen as he started feeling sick so she and Bobby came and found him in time (this is when Chimney is out from the rebar and after the disastrous therapy session and things are up and down with Abby so even aside from the chemical imbalance things are rough) and he has to stay in the psychiatric ward for a few days and he worried he wouldn’t have a job after but Bobby and Hen are there to pick him up and they take him out to breakfast and they care about him, Bobby lets him sleep on his couch for awhile, and things have been,like, okay since, he’s doing all right, he promises Eddie it’s not going to go that far again, that Hen and Bobby keep an eye on him and he guesses Eddie will now too. Eddie hugs him very tight and promises he will. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed for the first time that night.]

#asked and answered

22 notes · View notes

thedemonscrawler · 1 year

Note

❌🧐🤗

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

Miscommunication for the sake of drama or dragging out pining. It's just frustrating to watch characters dance around each other for chapters over something that can be resolved by sitting down and having a single conversation.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

It doesn't feel like it because I'll do my research as the moment comes up, but uh, considering that my other window is:

gameplay VOD to get the layout of an area

compiled map of the Pizzaplex

Sun's main render, for moral support and checking design details

triple-a-fazbear wiki, for renders and cut voice lines

IGN's game walkthrough, for detailed step-by-step of how the night goes

freddy-fazbears-pizza wiki, for general information and regular voice lines

a friendship bracelet pattern im working on that has nothing to do with writing

Permission Slip's mobile copy on Google Docs

an unrelated oneshot

Permission Slip's AO3

VenomQuil's Misplaced Trust, which I'm using for ideas on how to write a particular scene

...yeah I think I spend a lot of time researching.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Know how you want your story to end before you post it! It'll save you a lot of headaches if you know you're working towards "okay and then they kiss" or whatever. I also recommend some kind of outline, even if it's a bullet list of things you want to happen, because otherwise it gets really hard once you get past your initial scenes and realize you have no idea how you're going to get to the next thing you wanna write.

But mostly? Don't sweat it. It's no big deal if you abandon a fic because you lost interest, or if what you write isn't perfect, or if there's already a hundred like it out there. Write what makes you happy and there's guaranteed to be a couple of folks out there who are gonna like it too

..i guess more nitpicky advice is also be CONFIDENT. don't put 'this is my first fic im sorry if it's bad' or 'the beginning is slow but it picks up around chapter 3' in the summary. Have confidence! Just use the summary to tell folks what the fic is about, and use the author's notes for your justifications (though I still believe you shouldn't apologize just for making something). Most readers wouldn't even notice or care until you pointed these things out.

12 notes · View notes

tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader word count: 1.8k tags: fluff, slight internal turmoil, accidental confession (kind of) summary; Why should Sakusa care if you make plans with his captain? a/n: for my bby @imarizaki

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’m going to the cafe with Tsukasa-senpai this weekend.”

Sakusa couldn’t stop the words from repeating in his head as he jumped up and hit his serve. He winced at the impact, the force of it being much harder than he had intended. The flick of his wrist sent the ball flying over to the opposite side of the gym, crashing loudly against the metal bars that protected the windows.

Sakusa bent over to place his hands on his knees, and sighed deeply.

You had looked so excited about your upcoming plans, and the image of your beaming smile suddenly flashed in his mind. He supposes he should feel some sort of happiness for you, but at the moment, the only word he could use to describe his emotions would be frustration.

He always thought volleyball managers were useless. His teams always had one, and they hardly ever did anything other than compliment his serves and gave him water.

But perhaps that said more about his previous classmates than it did about the job itself, because ever since he’s been on this team with you, he’s not sure he could have it any other way.

He remembers when he walked into practice, three weeks into your stint as their manager. You’ve gotten into the habit of wearing a mask during practice, the black cloth fitted snugly across your face as you happily bounced over to speak with him.

“I researched different wrist exercises online,” you had said, handing him a stack of paper you had printed, “These seemed to be the ones that had worked out well for others.”

He nodded his head in thanks, not telling you that he already has these exact exercises memorized -- appreciating the effort you had put into helping his game.

He thinks back to when he arrived back from a training camp in a sour mood; feeling angry, frustrated, and insecure at the rate of his growth in comparison to the famous Ushiwaka. He grabbed his issue of monthly volleyball from his locker, flipping it open to the aforementioned ace’s page when his lips burst into an incredibly uncharacteristic smile.

On his rival’s photograph were devil horns drawn on his head, his front tooth blacked out and his eyebrows penned into a unibrow, your writing nearly inscripting “Ushiwaka Stinks! Sakusa Rocks!”

As he walks back to the volleyball cart, his mind wanders to when you let him borrow your manager notebook, and as he flipped the pages filled to the brim with your scribbles, he realizes that you were taking notes on much more than just Itachiyama players — your attention to detail had left him in a state of awe. Though, now he’s figuring out that you seem to do that just by existing.

It dawns on him that he seeks your attention past your daily scheduled practices. His routine has changed, and instead of eating his lunch in empty classrooms, he walks out to the courtyard of his school, passed the crowds of people and to a bench situated under a tree, so he can find you saving a spot for him next to you.

Every time he hears his phone buzz, he wishes it was you. Every time he wins a game, he looks to see if you’re watching him. His so-called useless manager.

He feels more uneasy as he wonders why he’s even thinking about such things in the first place. He turns and grabs another ball before taking his position behind the end line.

If you wanted to go to a cafe with tsukasa-senpai, then you had every right to do it. Who was he to be upset about it? Wait, was he upset? The sinking feeling in his gut and the irritation swelling in his chest tells him that he is.

But why? It’s not like it was a date. Or was it? But you just said you were going to the cafe. You never told him it was a date.

So what if it was?

Sakusa throws the ball into the air, and smacks his palm against the blue and yellow leather. The stinging in his palm matched the velocity of which it flew across the room yet again, and he curses at his lack of control.

“You’re still here?”

He snaps his head to the doorway, the echo of your voice mingling with the bouncing of the volleyball reverberating on the walls.

“I thought you went home,” he said, walking to his bag placed on the bench, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“Something told me to come check on you before I left,” you said, walking into the gym.

“Well, you should get going,” he said, in a much sharper tone than he had intended, “It’s getting dark.”

He ignored the way you frowned as he grabbed yet another volleyball, and repeating the same movements he has done for the past half hour since practice ended. He could feel the way your eyes burned into his back as he landed gracefully on his feet, clicking his tongue when his ball not-so-gracefully catches into the net.

“What’s up with you,” you quip, crossing your arms and popping your hip, “First, you ignore me all day, now you won’t even walk home with me?”

Your question only serves to confuse him even further. Is not walking home together now considered an odd thing? Since when did that happen? Had he really been so lost in your presence that he didn’t notice? He hadn’t realized things had gotten this far -- to him, time with you never felt like it was enough. And right now, he’s not sure if he likes that. Not when the end result is this.

He didn’t reply, choosing instead to walk over to the other side of the court, and collecting the balls that had gone astray.

But he should have known you wouldn’t have let things go, and he should have expected your footsteps marching behind him.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you say sternly, and it irritates him even further.

What, do you think that just because you say his full name, he’s going to bend to your will? Is that the kind of hold you think you have on him? The audacity of your familiarity was bothersome and aggravating.

Because it worked.

“You’re going to the cafe with Tsukasa-senpai tomorrow.” he says quickly, turning around to face you. You nearly collided with his chest, stopping abruptly in place. You blinked your eyes at Sakusa dumbly, trying to comprehend what he’s saying.

“Yes… and?”

“Is it a date?” he cuts to the chase, no longer wishing to prolong the agony he’s been in all day.

You looked at him in surprise, jaw hanging slightly and dropping your arms to your side. You quickly regain your composure, straightening your back before giving him a hard look.

“What, am I not allowed to go on dates?”

“I never said that,” Sakusa fumed, wondering if you were trying to dodge his question.

“Then why do you —“

“Can you just answer the question?”

You huffed a little at Sakusa’s interruption, and shot him a half hearted glare. Sakusa stood his ground, looking dead into your eyes.

“It’s not a date,” you finally respond, and Sakusa let’s go of a tension in his shoulders that he had no idea he was carrying.

“Good,” he said, turning around to continue his previous task of collecting his equipement.

“Why is that good?”

Sakusa shrugged, balancing four volleyballs in his arms as he made his way back to the cart. “You shouldn’t be going on dates with guys like Tsukasa-senpai.”

At this, you scoffed in disbelief. “Excuse me? And pray tell, o wise Sakusa-san, just what exactly kind of guy should I go on dates with?”

“Me,” he said before he could stop himself. He stopped all his movements for a moment, time suddenly freezing as he comprehends what just slipped from his lips. A feeling of dread soon began to slowly creep up from his gut, spreading across his body until it reached up and grabbed hold of his heart.

He pretends he never said a thing, depositing the volleyballs back into their rightful place before heading over to collapse the net. In his peripherals, he could see your shocked expression, eyes following his every move as he starts to lower the net. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead like bullets, but he continues on.

“So...what you’re saying is,” You finally broke the silence, walking over to the other side of the court to help Sakusa with his task. “You want me to go on a date with you.”

“I never said that,” he replied, quickly gathering the material that had bunched up on the floor. He felt awkward doing this errand in front of you, something you must have picked up on, because you finished the job for him.

Still the ever dutiful manager.

“No, I’m pretty sure you just did,” you say, grabbing onto the folded up net before walking over to place it into the storage room, not giving him a chance to reply.

Sakusa uses the ten seconds you were gone to slap himself in the face.

He solemnly walks over to gather his things, the silence growing louder and louder by the second as you choose to continue closing the gym instead of saying anything further. He takes his time switching out of his gym shoes, and slowly looped each side of his face mask on his ear.

He was zipping up his jacket when you stood in front of him.

Goosebumps raise in his flesh when you glare at him, tapping your foot on the wooden floors.

“Well?” You ask.

Sakusa tilts his head. “Well what?”

“Are you going to ask me out on a date?”

Sakusa is thankful for the fabric covering his face, though surely redness spread across his entire visage.

He was sure steam was wafting up from his head, the clock in the wall ticking tocking his nerves deeper into his bones.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he wonders if this is a trap. Or perhaps a cruel joke. But regardless, he couldn’t keep you waiting.

“Will you… go on a date with me,” Sakusa spoke slowly, coughing into his hand before continuing, “This weekend?”

You smiled at him, brighter than he’s ever seen before. He feels as if the skies have opened up, and the sun herself graced him with his own personal ray of warmth.

“Let’s go home, Omi,” you beckon him out of the gym before turning off the lights, “I got a big date to get ready for.”

You don’t see his smile, but you se the way his joy crinkled at the corner of his eyes.

“Preparing already?”

You laugh. “I’ve only been waiting for this moment my entire life.”

He hadn’t realized things had gotten this far — though, he realizes he doesn’t mind if the end result was this.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

6:39 PM [From: Captain Tsukasa] :

so? did it work?

6:42 PM (To: Captain Tsukasa) :

senpai… ur kinda scary

6:45 PM [From: Captain Tsukasa] :

I know my little kohai better than u think 😌

544 notes · View notes

novelizt · 3 years

Text

9:30 ☁︎ SHOTŌ TODOROKI

GENRE ➺ fluff, drabble

SYNOPSIS ➺ babysitting with shotō unexpectedly turns into overseeing the the kids manifest their quirks; one of which makes flowers bloom

WARNING ➺ it's pointless, really

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ actually makes no sense and i just wanted to publish something today for the prompt list so... excuse this nonsensical garbage. if you forgive me for posting this trash, consider checking out my other works! they're a mess too but some make a little more sense :>

Summer was grueling. On top of the already scorching sun, there was a shortage of cold foods and beverages. The cold quirk-users were hogging all the chill, too.

As someone whose quirk did nothing but worsen in the summer, you were rethinking your life decisions and came to the conclusion that you’d done something so abysmal in your past life that the heavens were personally offended and agreed to settle their grievances with you in this life. Wonderful.

However, you didn’t have time to complain. The hero course waits for no one. Well, unless you wanted someone to die but that’s the worst-case scenario. Besides, who dies on a babysitting mission.

You, you found out. And Shouto Todoroki, who had been unfortunately assigned to be your partner. Kids, apparently, were so immune to heat that they had the capacity to run the hedge maze half a dozen times without passing out. Pink-faced and drenched in sweat but seemingly unaware that heat could kill. They refused to change clothes so you and Shouto had improvised and stuffed towels down their backs so they wouldn’t catch a cold when it got breezy come late afternoon.

“Are kids usually this spirited?”

You rose a brow at him. Who uses the word ‘spirited’ nowadays? “As far as I know, yeah. Some are worse than others though. We got a pretty normal bunch. They haven’t developed their quirks either so we dodged a bullet there.”

“They haven’t?” He questioned, angling his head to the right. “Izana was blooming roses in the maze earlier.”

“He what?” You gawked, eyes jutting from the kids on the playset to the big-budget maze that was, indeed, now riddled with small buds of greens and reds. A detail that completely flew over your head amidst the chaos of making sure no one got trapped in the abyss of the hedge labyrinth.

You didn’t register that your jaw had dropped until Shouto had courteously tapped your chin to remind you. You gave him a hum of acknowledgment and promptly hugged yourself. You knew he was one of the top contenders going pro after UA but you didn’t think he had enough composure to remain observant when literal hell broke loose.

“l/n.”

“Yes?”

“The kids-”

“Oh- Right! The kids!”

“I didn’t expect them to start developing their quirks today.” You were sweating bullets as they one-by-one started manifesting their quirks. What started with Izana, moved on to Dmitri, that moved onto Hana — until the entire kiddy platoon had their quirks. Inexperienced, but this was still a new ballgame.

You were now babysitting caterpillars turning into butterflies, and the prospect of it scared you more than you thought. What if one of them had a self-destructive quirk? What if someone got hurt because of the other?

Honestly, the least worrying quirk you’d seen was Izana’s. Who, as previously mentioned, could make roses bloom when coming into contact with any form of flora. If he held on long enough, a fully bloomed rose the color of rubies and red ink would rest between his palms.

Except, he was only comfortable enough to show Shouto.

You didn’t want to come off jealous . . . but that childish part of you wanted to see a flower bloom in front of your eyes too. Taking a glance at their hunched forms huddled over a clay pot of soil and saplings every once in a while as you took care of the rest of the bunch.

By the time the day ended, the kids were all worn out from exhausting their quirks and running amok. Their parents came to pick them up, and the sleepy Izana muttered drowsy dialogue to Shouto before he was off.

You were just about ready to take off too. Too tired that you were dragging your feet to just fetch your bag. Interrupted by Izana’s favorite babysitter. Shouto looked as calm as he usually did.

You didn’t understand why he’d tap your shoulder, but your eyes dropped from his eyes to his hand. In his palm rested a single rose the color of cherry apples. Plucked carefully at the stem with its thorns singed off.

Too drowsy to process what was happening, you mustered a “hm?” in response.

“Izana wanted me to gift this to you.”

“Oh, thank you.”

You took it, and that was that. You took your bag, walked with him to the bus stop, and parted ways when your stop had arrived. Only when you heard the squeak of your front door did everything in the past 20 minutes catch up to you, staring at the very much real rose gripped in the same hand you held your keys.

“Hah???”

˗ˏˋ DAY 13 OF THE SEPTEMBER PROMPT LIST ⨾ ROSEBUSHES ˎˊ˗

⌠ @novelizt 2021 ⌡

130 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne

Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers

Gif is not mine.

Read on AO3 (English Version)

Ler no AO3 / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence.

Word count for this chapter: 4002K

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11

You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently

You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach

#wanda maximoff x reader #marvel reader insert #western au #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #red dead redemption au #Land of Thieves

344 notes · View notes

vermillioncrown · 2 years

Note

The thought of Shigure going "hmmm the water system needs more filters/the hospital is disorganized, do X" and Clan Head Uchiha Fugaku bringing it up at the next council meeting because well if Lord Second says so, but he has 0 excuse for how he figured this out. He's a soldier. Why is he concerned about... Water filtration. And fugaku, sweating bullets, is just going ITS IMPORTANT TRUST ME ON THIS or like maybe he brings up a good point about village security... Tl:Dr, fugaku is nominated hogak

unfortunately for your tldr, it's implied that succession depends on if you have been trained by a previous hokage/hokage student. works with the flavor of military dictatorship, tho, believe it

so any hope of an uchiha hokage would rest either on shigure (who ends up as the most diplomatic of team minato, working in hokage tower and coordinating administration)

("that's just cruel."

"yeah, let the man rest" in which his clan will oppose out of erroneous goodwill + will senju 'uchiha hater' tobirama actually work for the good of the uchiha)

(also that's too much responsibility for shigure. he'd rather be a shady councilman at most)

or an uchiha student taught by a member of team minato

(my notes have minato working out w/ the clan that he'll allow itachi to be prepared for the position, and shigure gets to be the youngest jonin instructor)

('it's like teaching at university level, except they're encouraged to maim each other')

every month, fugaku does his duty dictated by tradition. he checks in with the 'sleepless', ensures that the clan is taking care of its own, ensures that the 'sleepless' remains tethered to the waking world and sanity.

(uchiha are predisposed to feeling too much. coupled with the unique challenges of 'sleeplessness', many predecessors have found the burden too much to bear)

"fugaku-sama," uchiha shigure greets. he is fresh-faced, white hair and clothes neat and appropriate for his upcoming shift at the hokage tower.

"how are you finding the tower?"

with that question, shigure's red eyes (not sharingan) look him up and down, dart to the blackboard behind him and the posters, the papers he can spy on his desk, no doubt collating with everything he's seen since walking through the station.

"the tunnel system. it would be a good place to start."

at the non-sequitur, shigure weaves a lecture of sewage maintenance, d-ranks and genin utilization and integration into village institutions, suiton and doton theory, and evacuation routes. fugaku carefully does not frown, but a part of him just knows that shigure can tell he's not following along and is judging him for it.

shigure repeats himself - a blend of the business-like and indirect diction favored by those in administration handling diplomacy, and the more technical details in the short, formal sentences of his preference. liberally brings up shades of illusions to further explain his thoughts.

"it will be a good start," he says again, like punctuation, "to integrating the police force with the rest of the village forces."

fugaku remembers to blink. what?

"... right." he'll have to go over it with some of the advisors, pick one of the elders more willing to be proactive, and... there will be parts he can suggest at the next council meeting.

if shigure is bringing up the rest of the picture, likely, he has something in motion for the sections outside the clan's purview.

"oh. hm. obito says he attends clan meetings." shigure frowns. "i have missed them."

"you need not feel forced to attend," and fugaku almost winces at the clumsiness. "you are doing much work under lord fourth, and at the tower."

shigure doesn't answer immediately.

eventually, "this is my clan. i should participate," shigure answers matter-of-factly.

the impetus for revamping the water network

(shigure fucking around w suiton, gets annoyed with impurities in the water. spends his free time over two weeks to study deposits and the water network. realizes that there are a lot of missions that peripherally concern the river and sewage tunnels, commissions his own d-ranks as little 'experiments')

(causes an 'accidental' flooding at key points to look at how the network handles the excess water, him watching people scurry around from hokage mountain.)

(it's like... cities: skylines in real time. efficiency, robustness is key. and if they can't resolve the issue by sunset, he can set it back to rights.)

(minato can't prove that his student did it, but he knows.)

("if i find you near the tunnels in the next month, i'll ask kakashi to get his ninken to chase you out," minato threatens after an interesting council meeting.

shigure smiles like an uncooperative secretary that's smugly self-aware.

damn it, that's not supposed to be turned against his teacher, his lord liege!)

#inquiry #Anonymous #project: double bastard #verm bits #at this point there has been enough seals tutoring and technique creation that minato knows his student's processes #aka utter chaos #it's never permanent but it's always very inconvenient #zyx adhd energy except it's too difficult to contain shigure #outside of real jail

57 notes · View notes

theweirdymcweirderson · 3 years

Text

Hero complex - James B. Barnes

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, James B. Barnes

Relationships: Bucky Barnes×Reader

Word count: 926

Summary: While on the run Bucky and the Reader encounter a bit of trouble.

Warnings: Pet names, explicit words, teasing, cursing, blood, bullet wound, idiots in love (hehehe). That’s it I think, let me know if you find more.

Notes: You may wonder what this is, the answer to that is I don’t know :) But if you feel like leaving me some feedback, I'd really appreciate it. 💖

Ps: English is not my first language, I tried my best, but there might still be some mistakes/weird sentences. Sorry :)

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

A groan tears through your raw throat as you’re giving yourself a mental pep-talk trying to prepare for what is coming and knowing, much to your dismay, that it’s not going to help at all.

“You know, hiding is kinda useless if you keep making noise.”

“Oh, sorry my fucking pain is such a fucking nuisance to you. It’s not like I have a damn hole in my arm from saving your fucking ass.”

“Never asked you to, doll.”

Bucky sends a saccharine smile your way, before he turns back around to make sure no one has found your hideout yet. If you weren’t smack in the middle of the enemy’s lair, you would give him a piece of your mind, but knowing how little it takes for your disputes to escalate, you swallow down your retort and focus on getting the bullet out.

Fuck. FUCK! Fuck me and my fucking need to help his ungrateful fucking ass.

Your teeth sink in the flesh just under your bottom lip, trapping in your scream of pain as shaky fingers dig in your bicep; slippery with blood, the bullet keeps escaping your grasp and it makes you want to shout your frustration to the high heavens. Too bad you can't.

Once sure that you’re safe enough for the moment, Bucky glances back to check how you’re doing. You haven’t lost too much blood, which is the only upside of your predicament. Tears are on the verge of falling from your eyes, and he feels a pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

He crouches down next to you and takes your hand away; you give him a confused glare but don’t comment as he sets to retrieve the bullet himself. You hiss as he first touches the wound and his disapproving eyes find yours.

“Sorry. Want me to fucking die quieter?”

“You’re not going to die. Stop being so dramatic.”

You feel an unimaginable need to stick your tongue out at him, but since his fingers are about to dig inside the hole in your arm, you decide against it. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

“Bite down on something, this is gonna hurt.”

He’s right, his fingers are bigger than yours, but with the pain making you dizzy you can’t summon the strength to pull it out yourself. Whoever said that there’s strength in numbers, never stopped to consider how weakening getting used to the possibility of relying on others could be.

You bite down on your uninjured hand, hoping for the pain you’re causing yourself to trick your brain from focusing on the pain Bucky is about to unintentionally inflict. It’s useless, you already know that.

Bucky's eyes find your face, wanting to give you a heads up before starting, and his stomach fills with dread at the realisation of just how screwed he is.

You're scrunching your eyes closed, teeth gnawing on your hand and he shouldn't, really, it's not the time for such thoughts, not when you're bleeding and in pain and – fuck, what if they find you? But he takes his time and commits the small details of your face to his memory.

Flushed cheeks, wet with the tears you've tried to push back; irritated lips bitten raw in your attempt at reigning in the pain; clammy skin, dampened by the cold sweat you both worked up during the chase; Bucky knows he'll never get another chance to be so up close to you.

He drowns the thought urging him to push the stray strands of hair stuck to your face and clears his throat; professionalism is his strongest suit.

“On three.”

You nod once, pull in a long, shuddering breath through your nose and sink your teeth a little deeper in your hand. Completely, undeniably useless; the second his forefinger digs in to locate the foreign object, you feel your soul on the verge of leaving your body.

Fucking hero complex.

The suffering comes out as a sobbing whimper, and your widened eyes find Bucky's face; teeth releasing your limb because – that trick never work, does it?

He's even more handsome up close. Straight nose and full, plump lips. Your brain focuses on counting the light dusting of freckles across his skin; marvels at the long lashes creating the softest of shadows on each delicate flutter. Oh, he’s prettypretty.

Bucky glances up, your eyes lock and for a second he actually seems taken aback by your staring. One beat. Two.

His eyes are so bright and so dull at the same time.

The shadows of his past cloud the pools of blue Steve has told you about. You knew that, knew what to expect when they made you teammates; listened, memorised and dreamt of all the information Natasha and Tony had given you. He’s a ghost story and yet…

You try to blink away the thoughts, afraid he might catch on to your inner ramblings. One blink. Two.

His fingers pull out the bullet and your nails dig in his quad with everything you have left. Neither of you can tell when your hand found his thigh. He doesn't complain, though, doesn't even flinch at the action.

“What the fuck happened to ‘on three’?”

His lips tilt at the corners, if he wasn't a breath away, you would never have caught the action.

“Changed my mind.”

“You're the fucking worst.”

“And you're fucking welcome, doll. Now, shut up before you get us caught.”

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at his back. Ungrateful ass.

Find more stuff here <3

#bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #james barnes #james barnes drabble #marvel drabbles #theweirdymcweirderson's fics #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #james barnes smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #reader insert fanfiction #feedback is welcome

125 notes · View notes

phoenixtakaramono · 3 years

Note

Hi! :) I was reading your post about SQH in TUT and it got me thinking. Since this version also wrote SVSSS, when he transmigrates does he realize his "dream" was real? Also, you hinted that he recognizes SY as the same person who transmigrated into SQQ, so now I'm wondering if he tells SY that, and how SY would react to learning he's the protagonist of SVSSS in another universe. I just love thinking about how meta this could potentially get, haha.

Can't wait to find out more! Keep up the good work!

(Follow-Up Post to: Part I, Part II)

@the-legend-of-chel 👏👏👏 Luv, good to see you in my Asks! I’m glad to hear that you’re looking forward to finding out more in The Untold Tale! And thanks for your support and encouragement. 💖

(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)

You’re right. There is a lot of meta potential with older!Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky being the MXTX equivalent in this AU—or, rather, I like to imagine him growing up to be the Stephen King equivalent of modern day China with a prolific portfolio of written works (novels and short stories, and extras). In canon, he churned out a great number of words per chapter and in a speedy amount of time! Do you guys know how miraculous that is, as a writer? I envy him so much! To be able to churn out that much content in a short amount of time, and in a scheduled regimen, is amazing! That’s basically my angle having written this into the prologue of TUT. That’s partially the reason why I wrote ch1. I liked the idea of paying homage to SVSSS and saying that it’s an actual book series in TUT universe that Airplane wrote (as funny as the idea would be, I wasn’t about to let SY be the one to write it, lol, for intellectual property reasons since the PIDW characters belong to Airplane, which would necessitate SY changing names and character appearances if he published what we know as irl SVSSS, so the best I can give SY is saying he wrote his own PIDW fanfic which basically launched his novelist career because he’d realized, hey, I actually have a knack for writing and the ever so spiteful I feel like practically every writer has had this thought before: fine, if I don’t see what I want to read, then I’ll write it myself!)

(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)

We’re approaching TUT spoiler territory so skip below if you don’t wish to be spoiled.

TUT (Meta) Spoilers

I personally love meta. If I’m to be writing a lovestory to SVSSS, there will be attempts at meta thrown into TUT. And this is one of them:

Airplane did “dream” about canon SVSSS. He basically “dreamt” about his favorite black powder fan, Peerless Cucumber

changing events of Airplane’s biggest regret Proud Immortal Demon Way. (As a writer, it embarrasses me to read my old writing. So I imagine it could be the same for Airplane.) As an author, Airplane recognized what he dreamt had potential to be a commercial success as a danmei transmigration story so basically every time he woke up, he would write pieces of what he remembers in a dream journal when the memory was fresh in his brain. It also allowed Airplane the opportunity to show his readers through the perspective of SY! Shen Qingqiu what Airplane had originally wanted to write, but integrated in a way that blends seamlessly into the reading experience. He would’ve thought it was a bit weird and strange that his brain dreamt about his past critic—whom he’d considered a small celebrity in the PIDW forums back then—aka his anti-fan-turned-accomplished-novelist in the writing industry, so he felt embarrassed that his unconscious brain must have thought very highly of the man.

So Airplane omitted any mention of Peerless Cucumber from the final draft of SVSSS (if he mentioned both “Shen Yuan” and “Peerless Cucumber,” then even SY would be like, Hey, wait one moment....). This detail will be included in a later chapter, but did you know the name “Shen Yuan” has come up in other works? Let’s ignore the variations on the Chinese written characters for the name “Shen Yuan.” There was the evil older brother character Shen Yuan from The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage, a side character named Shen Yuan from a C-drama (I think he was an old minister?), and there’s even an irl visual artist named Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan (Shen Garden) is also a famous romantic garden in Shaoxing, known for the love story between Lu You and Tang Wan.

(Shen Yuan Garden - Trip Advisor Review)

Basically “Shen Yuan” in itself is not a particularly uncommon name in China (imo I would not say it’s super popular either). So when SY saw his name mentioned once or twice in Airplane’s SVSSS—aka rebooted PIDW—during his read-through, he was like, Huh, what a strange coincidence. And then dismissed it as circumstantial and thought nothing of seeing his name come up in a cutsleeve novel as the new protagonist, haha. It’s like a book written by Anne Rice; one of the titles coincidentally has the same name as mine. Now, obviously the book and main character is not based or inspired by me; I just coincidentally share the same name. If I see books which have characters with my same first name, generally I like to read them and sometimes even collect them for my bookshelves. Because there’s something just so fun and interesting about seeing your own name in a fictional piece of work.

There’s also meta joke potential about Airplane dreaming of himself being transmigrated into the cannon fodder Shang Qinghua and seeing the romantic miscommunications between the younger version of himself (his self-insert essentially) and the fictional Mobei jūn character. I can certainly say seeing such dreams would make Airplane question his sexuality and awaken something dormant in him, haha. He’d realize he might not be not as straight as he thought he was, if his brain was capable of dreaming of SY!SQQ being crushed on by LBH, and SQH being crushed on by MBJ and essentially following MBJ around calling him “my king” this and “my king” that. He’ll be sweating bullets when he meets this world’s version of MBJ, because Airplane will definitely remember how the younger Self-Insert version of himself acted toward MBJ in the SVSSS world. (It’s the classic “Just because I dreamed about it happening doesn’t mean it’ll happen here, right? ...Right? Cucumber brother, you’re a fortuneteller! Please check our eight characters for me! I have to know my marriage compatibility with Mobei jūn!”)

In a later chapter, there will be the reveal where Airplane tells Shen Yuan that he “dreamt” of a universe where a younger version of Shen Yuan—having choked on mantou (馒头) (paying homage to the donghua) or just being transmigrated in general after raging at a younger ASTTS’s writing (paying homage to the books)—transmigrated into the Shen Qingqiu we know from SVSSS who married Bing mèi. Because I think it will be hilarious when TUT’s SY finds out about the true source of Airplane’s inspiration, and he’ll naturally freak out over the fact that this is the very same Bing gē from Airplane’s Bing-gē vs Bing-mèi extra and that he’s essentially somehow stumbled on the same path as the alternative younger SY!SQQ “from Airplane’s imagination.” I will leave this open to interpretation if this does show up (it’s just an idea I’m playing with) but I might hint that there might be a higher power at play which allowed Airplane a peek into another universe—which manifested as his dreams.

I very much like this dynamic (we might see this exchange, verbatim, in a future chapter in TUT):

SY/ LBH —> He gave him a disdainful gaze.

Airplane cried inwardly at the oppression and the feeling of being wronged.

Haha, none of this is really Airplane’s fault^ though. It’s a fun parallel and if I’m still motivated when we get to the wedding and consummation chapter, we might see an epilogue where SY and Bing gē from TUT meets SY!SQQ and Bing mèi maybe. Because I think it’ll be funny with the two LBHs getting into a shouting/ fighting match about who has the “superior Shen Yuan” while the two SYs just shake their heads at their silly husbands (and potentially TUT’s SY, as the older party, can impart his fortunetelling wisdom and advice to SY!SQQ).

Personally I can’t wait when we get to those chapters, because I know it’ll be entertaining to write, haha. Personally TUT is a fun project because there’s just so much meta potential that can be incorporated and I have a lot of fun imagining the scenarios.

*Note: like always, keep in mind that these are just my current thoughts. Details are subject to change; things aren’t considered official until they show up in the final draft on AO3. :)

The Novelists’ First Impressions

The first impression SY and Airplane will have of each other will be fun. Because in their perspective, written in my notes it’s essentially like:

(Airplane seeing SY):

His first reaction was shock. Shock because the mere mortal he used to be could not conceive so much charisma being emitted by this guy.

This is definitely a man who had put all of his stats into CHARISMA.

(SY seeing Airplane):

He's suspiciously good looking in ways that normal people are not.

Ah, the Cucumberplane friendship in TUT is going to be so much fun. Not only are these two older souls who transmigrated (both are mid-aged in this universe), they’re both accomplished novelists in their own right in the writing industry. Which means with these two being celestial beings, there’s so many clichés we can playfully poke fun at.

It also makes me laugh because imagine being SY, and seeing a guy (mortal!Airplane) who exudes the same energy as these two imperial princes GIFs:

#svsss #人渣反派自救系统 #shang qinghua #moshang #shen yuan #bingyuan #binggeyuan #the untold tale #phoenixtakaramono #ask #the-legend-of-chel #phoenix talks #reply #replied #answered #I’m almost done photobashing older SY #so there’s gonna be additional visual context #for how he appears in TUT (my headcanon at least)

52 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

The Studio - Min Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 9.8k words

Genre: fluff, smut, mild angst

Rating: 18+

Hello my little raspberries! Here we go with Yoongi’s studio one shot. I’ll try and explain as briefly as I can for those new to this: Kitten is the nickname Yoongi has given to the reader (read more about the nicknames here), so basically this is a readerxYoongi.

To sum up the context of the fic quickly without reading all the rest (including some stuff which hasn’t been published yet [if you wanna read it vote for Illicit Affairs *wink wonk*]), Yoongi and Kitten have been dating for months but Yoongi kept postponing stuff with her (much to Kitten’s dismay — more like utter desperation) until their schedule in Japan was done. When they do reunite, they basically live joined at the hip — pun intended — but unfortunately, since tour is approaching, Yoongi has to take a week to focus on his job, promising Kitten the weekend. As Friday nights falls, Kitten decides to come claim her prize, and she comes carrying a lethal weapon.

Description and trigger warnings: Lots of swearing. As usual there is unprotected sex (these two got tested before going bare, please be like Yoongi: be smart, get tested). Female masturbation (with bullet vibrator), Kitten acts up since Yoongi acts oblivious and indifferent (surprise: He. Is. Not.), Trauma from past relationship (Kitten has had a pretty shitty ex who ignored her needs and made her very uncomfortable about having someone go down on her), Male masturbation, Oral sex both male and female receiving, Sensation play and slight foot fetishism, cum play and cum eating (it was necessary), lowkey spanking, multiple orgasms, hinted squirting.

Word count: 9.8k

Here is my updated Masterlist!

The receptionist led you through a daedalus of rooms and glass doors. After a few turns you spotted the sign of the Rkive, nothing but darkness coming from behind the glass door. He was probably already at home, maybe with his girl. From what Yoongi had told you, Namjoon had been working from home for the last few days, only coming in for rehearsals, leaving shortly before dinner. You had crossed her on the lift once as she carried a weekender, smiling at you, before you both headed for the same corridor, stopping at neighbouring doors, both ringing the doorbells and waiting.

"You must be Kitten, uh?" She said, using Yoongi's nickname. You asked yourself how she knew that.

"Vixen?" You replied, guessing that she was the woman that Namjoon told Yoongi about.

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, I guess you can call me that too. Pleased to meet you." She said, introducing herself with her full name. Just as you shook her hand, introducing yourself, Namjoon came to the door in a pair of loose grey sweats and a white t-shirt, greeting her with a "hey babe" before he spotted you, waving cutely at your form before Yoongi opened the door for you, with a way less appropriate "fuck, I'm starving, come here" which had the couple next door secretly giggling as your needy partner dragged you past his threshold and smashed the door closed.

That was just two weeks ago. You went from a week of daily sex — with multiple rounds — to a complete caresty. You were almost ready to hump a streetlight like a stripper pole, however you thought you'd much rather surprise your man and knock at his door like a discreetly civilised young woman.

Lost in your thoughts you didn't even realise you had reached his door.

"Here we are, shall I ring?" The receptionist asked.

"Yes, please." You said with a polite smile.

"I think I've already seen you."

You nodded. "My firm works for yours. I have come here before." You confirmed.

"Oh, that makes sense."

Yoongi opened the door, his mouth composing a surprised expression, and then his signature gummy smile, which you mirrored. "You're here."

You nodded, mirroring his expression.

"Thank you, Mr. Kang." He said, holding his hand out for you. You caught it immediately as he led you through the door.

"That's okay, boy." The older man, quite surely a member of security greeted both goodnight and headed back for his spot.

"He's my favourite. Sometimes when his shift ends we eat dinner together. He's amazing." He said with a soft smile. He brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "How's the weather outside?"

"Not too cold, but the air is pretty damp, I just hope it rains. It's very foggy tonight." You said, taking off your coat.

He grabbed your face as both your hands were still caught in your sleeves, planting his lips on yours. "Lemme finish a couple things on this one then we're all set and we can head home."

"Are you the only one left?" You asked.

Yoongi nodded. "Normally it's me and Joon working late and heading back home together, but lately he's been going back home to Vixen. I've heard he's trying to get her to move in."

"Haven't they been dating for a couple months?" You questioned.

"So what. We've also been dating for a couple months but would you say no if I asked you to move in with me?"

You thought about it.

"Seriously?" He asked, scandalised at your hesitation as he headed back to his chair.

"I mean…!" You complained, trying to win him back. "It's just a couple months. I would take it easy, maybe first I’d start with staying for the weekend and then see if I can handle it during weekdays too, gradually. A bit at a time."

He acted as if he weren't listening.

"Yoongi!"

"Busy." He replied.

"You cannot not listen to what you don't like." You said, with a curious giggle.

"Call me when you're ready to say 'If you asked me to, I would move in tomorrow'". He typed, but it sounded more like a dramatic gesture than some actual typing. "Plus, I will unlisten to whatever you say that doesn't respect the I-love-you-I'm-a-sucker-for-you-Yoongi agenda."

You moved closer to his chair, standing behind him, bending down to his ear. "What if I put my lips, right here." You teased, "would you listen to me?"

He shivered and you snickered like a vicious predator.

"Uh?" You urged him.

"You won't distract me like this." He said.

"Not even if I said 'I love you, I'm a sucker for you, Yoongi'," you moaned in his ear, "not even then?"

He shifted in his seat, his lips parting. "No." He said, but his voice was extremely unsure, not even a glimpse of firmness in it.

"Don't lie to me." You murmured. Your hands spreading over his pectorals. He might not be as buff as some of the other guys, but he was secretly well built, especially on the chest area. You had personally tested that out.

He withheld a moan. "I'm not distracted."

"You're getting hard, Yoongi." You commented, noticing his bulge. You let your hands crawl lower, down his stomach, where his sweater met the waist of his slacks. "I missed you so much these past few days." You whined, trying to find the button of his trousers.

He slapped your hand. "Let me finish and we can head home. There you can tell me how much you missed me." He said, his voice almost sounding like a warning. "In detail."

"But I want you now."

"Stay put and wait."

You tutted and stood up. "Cockblocker." You snarled under your breath, sitting on the sofa.

"How can I cockblock you if you don't even have a cock?" He argued back.

You chuckled. "Shut up." You rummaged in your bag, smirking when you found your little personal pouch. "Plus, why would I need a cock when you can share yours with me?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "You, shut up." He said back at you. "If you were smart enough, you would keep quiet and be good, so I can finish my job and take you home."

The fact that you immediately thought of his place scared you a little. You absolutely understood Vixen and Namjoon's position at this point. With the guys' schedule, which includes working hours, trips, shootings, TV and radio appearances, then briefings and their own meetings and the oncoming tour, you started fearing how it would end up with you and Yoongi: your relationship had blossomed in fits and starts through Yoongi's determination and commitment, and your curiosity towards him. It had kept going because of the incredible attraction, the sense of balance and the sacred quiet and respect that you could reach in each others' company.

"Home where?" You asked, shutting up your mind.

He turned with his chair. "This should be enough to show you that Namjoon is right about having her move in. And that I would be right too if I wanted you to."

He wanted to. After he'd come back home from Japan, you had spent the rest of the week going back to his place after dark, having dinner, taking care of each other, sleeping together. The week after that you basically went back home only to grab a few things before going back to his. Then on Sunday he told you he had rehearsals at BigHit, and usually those go on till late, so he would be staying at the dorms, promising you he'd spend whatever free time he had with you and that he would see you in the weekend, when the rehearsals finish earlier and they have less disturbing timetables.

That's how you found yourself in his studio, on Friday night at 10pm.

"How long do you have left there?" You asked.

"Mh, maybe twenty minutes. I was just doing a little bit of fact checking and research for some references. Almost done."

"No listening?" You asked, testing for any catch in your plan.

"No, i don't think so, why?" He kept scrolling on his screen.

As you quietly took off your trousers, you chirped out a "nothing" shedding your jacket too in the process. You sat on his sofa in nothing but a formal shirt, an undershirt and your bra, your lacy panties doing little to protect your skin from the cold bite of the leather. You grabbed your disinfectant gel from your pouch and poured a dollop on your palm. After that you passed a wet wipe on your hands, carefully inspecting the underside of each nail. Once you were satisfied, you neared the bin by the door and got rid of the used wipe.

You sat back on the sofa and bit your lip, hesitating before moving to the next step. You still forced yourself to ignore your pouch, focusing on cupping your crotch and staring at the back of Yoongi's head. His place smelled amazing, something like patchouli and lavender and amber and pine. It was very male. Sometimes you could even catch a whiff of scotch.

You were wet.

It felt uncomfortable and somehow disappointing that he was there but he hadn't yet looked for you. Uncertainty made you desperate and eager for confirmation on his side. Maybe that's why you were here, acting like this.

The moment your finger slipped against your clit you huffed out a heavy breath, trying to keep quiet and making sure that Yoongi couldn't hear you quite right yet.

You did it again, trying to arouse yourself fully, until the wetness became unbearable. Not only it needed to feel wet, but to sound like it too. It took little, especially considering that you had accidentally deprived yourself because of a combination of work and stress and waiting for Yoongi. On the brink of sanity, you slipped your panties to the side, the sound of typing stopping for a second, which had you stopping your finger with the tip hovering at your entrance.

Yoongi started typing again, slow but completely absorbed in his work. You pushed your finger in, your mouth opening in a breathy sob, which Yoongi didn't hear — or that maybe he ignored.

Crooking your finger, you teased your g-spot, immediately flinching as you realised how it felt almost too good. The sofa creaked underneath you.

At his desk, Yoongi was going on with his work, completely oblivious of the misbehaving happening on his couch, however he almost started thinking of working from home.

Oh, so you'll be in the same house as Kitten, with a bed, a sofa and a bathtub, and you're gonna lock yourself in the studio and ignore her. Yeah, right. He thought.

Therefore, on with his work.

In the meantime you had surreptitiously taken off your panties, your legs still open just barely enough to fit your wrist. The process had been an exercise in control, since the leather seemed to have glued to your naked backside, which made it creak at every single inch of skin trying to part from the surface. Your hand was now free to roam on your pubis, cupping the skin and parting the labia, dragging two fingers along the slit, wetting them properly before inserting them. This time you did moan a short staccato sound, it lasted maybe half a second before you regained control of your vocal cords.

Yoongi's ears immediately picked that up, however he deemed the sound a sign of impatience or tiredness and dismissed it altogether.

Licking your lower lip, almost expecting him to turn around, you waited a couple more seconds before moving your fingers inside, crooking them. You bent forward at the precision with which you managed to find your sweet spot, the seated position simplifying the operation. Your mouth parted in a silent cry and your hips buckled, once more making the sofa crackle underneath you.

Yoongi started getting suspicious: he knew you had something going on, but he decided against asking. Ignorance is bliss.

He went on with his work.

You started getting seriously upset at his lack of recognition. With insufference and discontent coursing through your veins, you fished out a smaller pouch from your bag, quickly undoing the strings with your clean fingers. You extracted one of your favourite gifts to yourself, a small vibrator, a rather practical one you had taken from your bedside before you came to see him. You were almost sorry it was a pretty quiet one. You switched it on, enjoying the light buzzing it emitted. It was like listening to a mosquito fly around your ears. You seriously doubted Yoongi could hear it.

You placed it on your mound, without even letting it close to your folds or your clit. You teased the outline of your intimate parts, gently drawing the lines of your labia. You were very careful when you reached your clit, still a whimper escaped your lips.

Yoongi placed it immediately. He could recognise that sound instinctively. Usually it was connected to his tongue curling around your clit when he started eating you out. It was the first-lick whimper. The other circumstance was when he slid inside you particularly good, with that smooth, all-in-in-one-go kind of thrust. You were probably touching yourself.

He didn't know what to do with that information. He wanted to turn around and look at you, of course, but he thought that if he ignored you, you would probably get louder, needier and messier, and he was all in for that.

In the meantime you had started drawing circles on your clit, your breathing erratic and your spare hand going up to cup your breast. Your eyes were still glued to the dark mass of hair emerging from the chair right before you. "Yoongi." You called.

"Almost done, baby." He replied. He wanted to smash his head against the table. No man in his right state of mind would do this. He wasn't a genius. He was a masochistic fool and the worst part of it all was how disgustingly lucid he was in his reasoning. How he was trying to get you so desperate that you would scream and beg for his attention.

You were fuming: you turned the power of the toy to the loudest setting you had, the buzz now propagating in the room, your cunt so slick it was almost too loud for your taste.

"Yoongi, please." You cried out, your juices dripping on his sofa. And then you snapped, your whole body bending forward as you moaned "so good, Yoongi", your body too weak to remove the vibrator from your overstimulated nerve endings, your orgasm too sudden and overwhelming.

Still, no sign from Yoongi. The back of his chair was the first thing you noticed as soon as you recovered from your small black-out.

You switched off the toy, laying it on your thigh as you laid back against the back of the couch. "Yoongi." You called again, upset by his indifference.

"Mh." He acknowledged. That was suspicious. Quietly you parted from the sofa, kneeling down and starting to crawl towards him, not entirely trusting your legs to not give out beneath you; however your crawling had a limping pattern, your soaked hand close to your chest, clutching the toy in your palm.

You were perfectly quiet as you closed up on him, hiding behind the back of his chair as you listened. He was making a noise similar to a low purr, groaning under his breath. Your eyes closed as you listened to him carefully. You knew that purring moan, the rushed pattern of breaths. You moved to the side of his chair, peeking at his lap.

He was touching himself, his other hand combing his hair back and moving down the side of his neck, lingering on his chest. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his hips jerking up just a fraction of an inch with the tiniest thrusts. His hand looked glossy with spit and precum as he dragged it roughly from base to tip, where he gave two rolls of his wrist before heading down again.

It was his technique, milking upwards, double roll the palm around the tip and back downwards. It was the way he used to do it before you came around. Since then he had slowly grown accustomed to finishing by thrusting up into his fist, usually laying on his belly before cumming on your navel or kneeling, straddling your waist and spilling on your chest. He loved pressing his face between your boobs when he touched himself hovering over you, but he also enjoyed the view when kneeling over you.

Thinking of you like that had his lips parting in a slow, heavy breath that got you even wetter.

"Yoongi." You whispered delicately.

He didn't even get scared, he just opened his eyes and smirked. "You done with your little scene on my sofa?"

Cocking an eyebrow you sat on the balls of your feet, observing him. "Maybe I should go back home, where I can comfortably make myself cum on my plush bed without judgy, undeserving people around." You said with a petty tone.

He looked taken aback by your comment. "I had told you to stay put, still and quiet."

"Buy yourself a doll and she can do that for you. I've been staying put, still and quiet all week. I can assure you it's pretty boring." You reprimanded him, a bit upset.

"Are you horny?" He asked, slowing down his motion.

"I was." You clicked your tongue, catching his hand mid-stroke. "You lost your chance."

He chuckled mischievously. "You've had just one. You need minimum another." He ripped his hand from your grasp and started moving again.

"You were busy. How come you're jerking off instead of doing your fact check?" You asked, snarling a little.

"I finished my fact check but I didn't want to interrupt you. I reckoned I could use your little solo for selfish purposes." He said, groaning a bit as his slowed down movement reached a sensitive spot.

You wanted your mouth on him. You were ready to make him pay for it.

He stopped touching himself and moved his hand to your mouth to draw the line of your lips. You immediately opened up, slipping your tongue out to lick at his finger.

"Kitten." He breathed out.

You ignored his plea and sucked at his finger. His strong, slender, beautiful finger. He was enraptured by your expression: eyes closed, lips puckered around his knuckle. You looked peaceful. And beautiful. And well, erotic.

"Kitten, love." He murmured, turning his chair slightly, enough so that you could be more comfortable in your position.

You were finally facing his lap, his cock laying in front of you, covered in slick, so thick and delicious. He wasn't that long, but it balanced his body beautifully, the thickness and modest length making it the best dick you had ever taken in your mouth, which obviously made you twice as willing to suck him. All the time — not like frequency mattered.

With a bit of resistance on your behalf, he pushed his finger out of your mouth. "Are you that in love with my hands, Kitten?"

You pouted. "Tell me one good reason to take it away from me."

"I thought you'd like my cock better." He said, honest.

You frowned. "As if you deserved to get some after making me cum all alone, while you took advantage of my loudness."

“Are you angry at me, Kitten?” He asked. He knew it was a bastard move when he started it, but he hadn't thought it would affect you this much.

“A bit.” You admitted.

It was sort of hilarious to have this conversation while you were naked from your waist down, a bullet vibrator in hand and his erection laying out of his pants.

“Why are you angry at me?” He asked, being absolutely neutral about his state of undress. Unfortunately you weren’t an ounce as neutral as him.

You dragged the back of your hand up his calf, your knuckles grazing the soft stubble of his legs.

“I have been unfair to you, haven’t I?” He asked, caressing your head with his clean hand, tipping your chin upward. “I’m sorry, Kitten.” He said, holding your gaze. “I’ve missed you too, love.” He traced your lips. “I’ve missed making love to you.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” Your hand reached his crotch, scratching his thighs through the fabric of his trousers. “I’ve been wanting you all week, but i didn’t want to bother you. I kept reminding myself that you were busy, that I just needed to last a few days until it was the weekend and you could be all mine.” You bent down and kissed his knee. “But it took a toll on me, not hearing from you. Not having you near.” You pressed your face to his lower inner thigh. “You didn’t even say you love me.” You mumbled under your breath, feeling a knot in your throat.

“Oh, ____, love.” He bent down, trying to drag your face away from his knee, keeping you from hiding yourself. “I love you, ____. I love you, Kitten.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell remind you.” He cupped your jaw and pressed your mouth to his. “I love you, Kitten. I’ll tell you as many times as you need it, baby.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.” You murmured against his lips. “I’m sorry for being like this.” You said. It was a flashback to all the times you had to beg your ex to declare his feelings to you, to all the times you had had to ask him to love you.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Kitten. Absolutely nothing, my love.” He whispered close to you face. “I’m not your ex, baby. I’m here for you.” He kept stroking your cheek. “If we keep going here we’re gonna make a mess, Kitten.”

“Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?” You asked, quiet and mischievous.

“I usually meet the guys here to record demos.” He objected.

You frowned. "It's not like I'm going to cause irreversible damage."

He pouted and nodded. Fair enough. “So…"

"Yoongi, please, I need to feel you in my mouth." You whined, biting your lower lip.

He chuckled, sitting upright. "You sure, Kitten?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, now stand up and take off your trousers please." You said, tugging at the fabric.

He snickered and pushed his chair back enough to stand in front of you and roll down his slacks. He sat closer to the edge of the chair and you tugged at the hem, finally removing his trousers completely. Now you were free to make him open wide and kneel between his legs.

You suckled the skin of his inner thigh, your hands skimming his calves. At the moment, your toy was laying between your thighs, switched off as you waited for the best moment to bring it into the picture. "Do you want me?" You asked, looking at him from under your eyelashes, batting them slowly, your lips curled up in a cute pout.

"Of course I do, Kitten. I'm so hard for you baby." He moaned, stroking himself. He lowered the tip so that it was closer to your lips.

"Can I?" You murmured, almost desperate.

"Yes, Kitten. It's yours, love, you know it." He said gently, longing for you so ardently and so composedly.

You licked his slit with delicate manners. You looked like the elegant cat you had reminded him from day one. And then your lips wrapped up around him, sucking his bulbous head into your mouth, your cheeks wrapping so tight around him with the pressure of your sucking.

"Fuuuuck, Kitten, that's amazing, love. ____, you're gonna make me cum."

Grinning like the devil, you took the chance to swallow him almost entirely, leaving only an inch out, and making him roar with pleasure. "Yes, yes. That's one hell of a mouth, Kitten. That's so fucking perfect, ____. I fucking love you so fucking much, babe." You loved when he started to swear during sex, it turned you on in a manner you couldn't quite understand.

When you felt him start to pulsate in your mouth you pressed two fingers at the base and pulled him out.

"You good, Kitten?" He asked, panting, trying not to cry at the vulnerable situation you'd left him in. He was on the very edge, one more second and he could have cum. But he didn't press you, you just came up for air.

Little did he know it was absolutely intentional. And you intended to do it again. You played a poker face. "Yes, I'm good, why?"

"Just checking on you." He explained, stroking himself at the base.

This couldn't do. You caught his wrist gently, blocking it. "Lemme take care of it all, babe." You licked his tip seducingly. "You know I won't leave you hanging."

He smiled and threw his head back. "I am at your mercy, ____."

He had all the power in the world when he spoke your name. You eagerly returned to your ministration, this time blocking his palm on his tight, underneath yours, while his other hand kept toying with his neck and chest. Not that you noticed: you were too eager bobbing your head on his length, focusing on the lewd moans he emitted, on the swear words he growled against the headrest of his chair, where he was currently pressing the side of his face.

"Kitten." He whined, almost endearing in the delicate inflection of his voice.

He was going to cum. You pulled him out as fast as you could, quickly heading to his underside to lay the softest kisses of affection.

"Kitten." He growled, but this time it was no joke. He was getting worked up. A bit angry.

"What?"

"Stop teasing."

"Me! Teasing! How could I? My priority is my boyfriend, Yoongi, and his well-being”. You grinned, delivering a long lick from the base to his tip. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Kitten, I swear, if you’re edging me I’m going to make you pay for it.” He growled, fighting your grip on his hand.

You gripped his wrist harder. “This can go two ways, Yoongi. You let me do my thing on my terms, or I’m going to leave right in this second and go back home by myself tonight. Pick.” You used a tone so calm it sounded like the most sensual of threats.

He twisted his wrist gently, looking into your eyes, and lacing his fingers with yours, moving your joined hands to the armrest. With the other hand he gripped the edge of the chair behind his head. “Do your thing, Kitty cat.”

Smiling lasciviously, you placed open mouthed kisses to his inner thigh, moving from the left to the right side. You lifted your hand, previously on his lap, letting the edge of your nail draw a thin line from his hip to his knee to his ankle, where it met his sock. You were almost tempted to take it off and tease him there. Why not? You had the wipes to clean it afterward… Fuck it.

You caressed his ankle, teasing it with your nails.

“Kitten, that feels very good, love.” He moaned, squeezing your hand in his. “Want me to let go of your hand?” He asked.

“Maybe later.” You whispered, leaving sucking kisses at the base of his shaft. You blindly took off his sock. “Are you cold, baby?” You murmured softly.

“No, I’m shivering because it’s so good, love.” He praised you. “You are amazing, Kitten. Thank you so much for this, babe.”

You parted from his skin. “No need to thank me, Yoongles.” You licked his length. “I do it because I like it. Because it’s so good.” With your spare hand you tickled the underside of his foot, which had him tensing the muscles there, his whole leg jumping, trying to escape your sweet torture. “Too much?”

“Just… unexpected. Sensitive.” He hissed.

You removed your teasing fingernails.

“It’s– No, I liked it.” He clarified, his pretty face scrunched in a confused expression.

You smiled darkly. “I was thinking of this…” You placed your toy under his foot, switching it on on the lowest setting.

“Kitten. Fuck. Shit.” He growled. “What the hell!” He pressed his head against the back of the seat.

“Too much?” You asked, distancing it from his skin.

"No, good. God, Kitten. Just, please, your mouth." He begged.

You kissed his tip and swallowed him.

His back arched and his lips parted in a gasp. "Yes, love. Oh god."

The slight buzzing moved up towards his calf as you absentmindedly followed the outline of his leg. You were completely absorbed in pleasuring him with your mouth, squeezing him with your lips and tongue and stroking him with the tender skin of your cheeks.

"Please." He moaned, struggling under your assault. "Love you." He whined. "Let me." He was so hopeless, his broken thoughts exiting his mouth unfiltered.

You pulled him out, taking a deep breath, opening your eyes to look at him. "You look so pretty, Yoongi. You look so fucking high, babe.”

“Please,” he breathed, trying to grind up into your mouth.

“Come on, wait for me, Yoongi. I’m not done with you yet, baby.” You cooed, bringing the vibrator up to the inside of his knee, which made his leg start bouncing. Ever so gently, you brought the head of the bullet even closer to his inner thigh, making him swear under his breath. “I feel so good making you look like this,” you groaned, kissing his navel. “I know right now your head is so empty you’re only thinking about me. No drama going on inside your pretty head when I’m giving you head this good. ”

“Kitten, for the love of God.”

Just when you had reached his crotch with your toy-accidentally-turned-instrument-of-torture, you started again on the other side, from his knee. His hand was gripping yours viciously, his strong fingers constricting your knuckles with so much pressure you worried about him getting cramps right when you wanted him to feel only pleasure coursing through his body.

“I am begging you, Kitten. I ain’t too proud, please.” He howled, as you saw a glistening pearl of precum blossom on his slit. You immediately caught it with your tongue, using the occasion to suck his tip.

“Such a good boy. Lemme take care of you.” Your head lowered on him once more, this time not sparing an inch of him. Just as he quieted down from the deep moan he had just released, you moved the vibrator to the tender skin of his testicles, placing it there without pressure, which made the stimulation even more intense.

He growled your name. It was the most virile thing you had ever heard. You were ready to commit murder to hear him say it like that everyday for the rest of your life. The hand once tightly gripping the back of his chair was now hanging midair, as if ready to touch you. He caressed his sweaty fringe, combing his hair back and deciding on gripping the armrest instead of the back. You slipped him out once more and removed the vibrator.

He opened his eyes with the most pitiful expression he had ever made. “Kitten.”

“I know, baby, I just need to know if you want to cum in my mouth or if you have anything else in mind.” You said, tracing small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand.

He noticed that you were still wearing your nice shirt from work. “Chest.” He murmured.

You grinned. You had never allowed any man to do that to you. You hated the idea of it, but when you did it with Yoongi for the first time you just saw him lose his mind at it, stare at you in admiration, like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and you just decided that the look on his face was a great prize for a relatively small sacrifice. Little did you know you would come to like it, the warm, sudden feeling of his semen sprinkling your naked skin, rolling down gently in the most erotic sort of massage you could ever dream of. Quickly, you let go of Yoongi’s hand, offering him the vibrator. “Hold it for me, baby?”

He simply nodded with a confused pout, his brain so fucked out that you giggled at how cute he looked. You undid a few buttons of your shirt to your stomach, then you stood up and took off your undershirt, slipping the thin straps off your arms through the hem of each sleeve and dragging the lower hem down from your waist, until you stepped out of it like a skirt. Yoongi looked a bit more lucid as you undid the clasps of your bra and removed the straps just like those of your undershirt, gripping the front of the bra and pulling it off from the opening of your shirt. Covered only in your white work shirt, you regained your vibrator from Yoongi’s obedient hand and joined your hand with his once more.

“Open it nice, I don’t wanna mess up the shirt.” He said, ever the caring, attentive one.

You slipped the shoulders off, the fabric slipping under your breasts and supporting them like some sort of a corset.

“Like this?” You asked.

He nodded. “Will you let me this time, please?” He said, his voice so fragile and broken that if you hadn’t already decided, he would have convinced you to offer him relief.

You let your actions speak. You started working the first few inches of his shaft, gently toying with the vibrator at the base, where his cock met his balls. His moaning soon became desperate, so incoherent that you doubted having one of the most talented rappers and songwriters in front of you. He looked like he didn’t know a word, like the best he could do were baby gurgles.

When you felt him begin to pulsate, you let him take the lead a little, choosing how deep he needed to go and how long he could keep going. You started teasing the underside of his cock with the side of the vibrator, running up and down the thick tendon there. “Kitten, I’m close.” He warned with a timbre so husky it almost scared you

You started going a bit faster with the up and down pattern of the toy. Your eyes were fixed on him when he started slowly moving his hips toward the edge of the chair with weak thrusts. He started opening and closing his mouth, gaping. His short groans became more frequent, getting higher and higher, his knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping his armrest.

“Now.” He said, letting go of the armrest, using his hand to pull out of your mouth while you scooted closer, offering him the skin of you bosom. Your inner walls began pulsating as he pushed his tip against the skin of your nipple, rubbing it while at the same time he gently pushed your hand and the toy aside to stroke the base. He kept licking his lips, delivering those small thrusts into his fist just as you moved the tip of the vibrator to the head of his cock, teasing the frenulum. He groaned and began moving faster, his grunts getting quicker until he finally screamed your name.

The first shot was usually the messiest, the pressure so high it often reached your neck and chin, but this time it stayed on your breast, probably because Yoongi was pressing up into you and the toy. You moaned yourself when the vibrator touched your nipple, Yoongi laughing gently and calling your name when he realised you were paying for this too, that you too were vulnerable, and that probably you were turned on enough to let him eat you out and possibly cum inside you before you both headed to his place for a hot meal and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

He spilled twice more on your breastbone and your other breast before he calmed down, reaching for the toy and switching it off. “Kitten. I swear to God, I’m gonna die because of you.” He panted, heavily gasping for air.

Still no trace of the mighty rapper, just one very normal, very lovely young man.

With a fingertip you collected a drop that was dangerously rolling down towards your shirt. “A good way to go.”

“It would be sort of embarrassing to explain.” He blushed, looking at you sucking at his cum on your fingertip. “Come here.” He murmured, patting his thighs. “Can you straddle me?” He asked.

“Why don’t we move to the sofa?” You asked.

He nodded, using your still joined hands to help you up on your feet. As you both stood up, you found yourself face to face, however his eyes moved downwards, to the wetness on your boobs. Bending his head, he cupped both with his palms, cradling the underside in his hands before pushing his lips to your nipple, his tongue lashing out to lick away at his release. Still needy, he moved to the other side, cleaning the other stain too.

Your knees wobbled. He smirked. “Sofa.” However when he reached the black leather piece he noticed the mess you had left behind. “You’d better fix it. Immediately.” He reprimanded.

You hang your head low between your shoulders, hiding from his scolding. You put your toy on top of its pouch, fishing a couple wet wipes to clean the cushion properly, as you bent at the waist to check for the results, you felt his hand smack your ass heavily. “You’re lucky it’s not suede or you’d be fucked by now.” He stood behind you and bent over your spine, adhering to your backside. “And not in the nice way.” He stood up again. “Stay like this, Kitten, don’t you dare move.”

You heard the sound of the lid of your wipes coming off, then the sound of fabric. You didn’t dare move. Yoongi was very likely to look for revenge now, and you already had a high price to pay. In your peripherals you noticed him rubbing the wet wipe all over your vibrator, cleaning it up.

You knew it was your turn now. You just had to hope he was feeling merciful. He bent over you. “Stay put and it’ll be okay, love.” He said with lethal kindness. You heard a gentle thud to the floor, shorty followed by another. “I am kneeling behind you, Kitten. Are you okay with me eating you out like this?”

He was so attentive: it felt like he had a list of all your triggers memorised in his mind; he was always so careful when it came to your potential traumas and insecurities. You weren’t new to receiving oral sex, however to you sometimes it felt very intimate and your worries kept you from freeing your mind and enjoying the experience fully.

“It’s okay.” You mewled.

“You can stop me anytime, love.” He said softly, kissing the back of your thighs, licking the thin stretch marks there. He loved all those small signs, the way they showed the tide of your skin, the way it made sense, the way you looked realer than anything he’s ever dreamed. He was in love with all your freckles and moles, wrinkles, the squishy part of your belly and waist and hips, the little hairs on your navel. He felt real when with you. He felt a little bit less surrounded by that artificial, polished world that looked like a simulation. He felt like he was allowed some small chance of normality, of reality with you. No skinny models with made-up personality, no fame or ego, just being two people facing each other, telling each other how it feels to be human.

Throughout all of his meditation he delivered small bites and kisses on the skin of your thighs and ass, tracing the outline of your labia, enjoying the plush softness.

You moaned out his name, pressing into him. “I know I’ve been bad, just… Please.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” He murmured, kissing your slit. “I deserved it.” He licked you slowly, from your mound to your entrance, the tip of his tongue digging in and collecting the wetness oozing out of you. “I neglected you.” He licked you again, nuzzling the raw skin of your inner labia with his lips. He kept his lips there, breathing softly through his mouth. “I love you, Kitten.” He kissed you there. “Love you so much, baby.” He murmured before you heard the buzz of the vibrator. He wasn’t toying around with you: he wrapped his arm around your leg, nuzzling the toy against your folds until he heard you whine. "Found it?" He asked, referring to your clit.

"Right there." You moaned.

He flattened his tongue against your folds, rolling it until they were spread wide, exposing your most tender nerves to the violent vibrations.

"Yoongi, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered, pressing yourself into him.

He wanted you to. He didn't care, couldn't care less of the amount of times you edged him earlier: he wanted to see you undone. He wished he could tell you, however he felt like it was more important for his mouth to stay on your cunt. He wanted you to know that you were allowed, that he wasn't going to deny you. He simply reached for your hand, placing his on top of yours on the cushion. Suddenly you started grinding your hips, riding his tongue, your free hand wrapping around his wrist, helping him place the bullet where you needed it. The fact that you were almost silent, holding your breath and gasping every time he spread your slick to the apex of your labia, so that the vibrator could slide more comfortably.

Your high hit you like a tide, your knees buckling underneath you, Yoongi's hand leaving yours so he could use his arm to stabilise you. Your hand on his wrist invited him to remove the toy, your position not safe and steady enough to allow any type of overstimulation, meanwhile his tongue battled with the contractions of your inner wall as he slipped it in just enough to stimulate the small muscle at the back, where you were always most responsive. He felt proud at knowing these small tricks, these little details that he had discovered with keen exploration and observation. Every body has their shortcuts to pleasure, though not all people are the same. He had learnt that some things that set his exes on fire to you were completely indifferent, meanwhile stuff that his exes refused could turn you into putty in his hands.

"Yoongi, that's okay.” You moaned, slipping away from him. He parted from your skin, gently pressing a kiss to your labia.

"Are you okay, Kitten?" He asked before running his hand to your breasts, cupping one softly, secretly searching for your heartbeat.

"I think I'm a little shook." You giggled. "It was… Very intense." You exhaled and laughed.

He kept kissing your thighs. You knew that that meant something. "I wanna try something but if it's too much we can stop here." He spoke delicately, his lips tickling your skin.

"Now I'm curious." You said, tired but mischievous still.

"Lemme show you." You heard him shuffle around a bit as he removed his sweater and placed it on the floor. He just hoped he wouldn't make a mess. From his kneeling position he shifted and sat on the oversized garment, thanking God that it wasn't as cold as he expected. He reclined his head on the seat of the sofa as your gaze met his.

"Am I going to ride your face?" You asked with a knowing smirk.

"Smart kitty." He said, mirroring your expression. "Knees on the cushion. Come on babe."

Shaking your head and smiling, you followed his order, your hands looking for support on the back of the sofa. "I'm afraid I'm gonna crush you." You said, even though you loved looking at him like this. His hair was a mess around him, his eyes so dark and intense that it felt like he was ready to drag you to hell and back with himself.

“It’s okay, you’re small. I can help you.” He said, placing his hands on your butt, squeezing. “I’m happy to help.” He grinned and you grinned back at him. You loved that both your brains shared the same perverted paths following the same dirty cues. “I wanna suck your clit, but I don’t know if it’ll work for you since you had the vibrator there.” He said, spreading small bites on your thighs.

“It’s okay. No need to make me cum.” You reasoned, openly refusing that a sexual experience can be successful only if culminating in an orgasm.

“I hate how you’re always ready to give up on your pleasure.” He said, getting argumentative. “I’m doing this to please you.”

“You can please me without making me cum.” You argued back. “It’s not like— Holy fuck!” You screamed, your shoulders giving out. His arm holding your ass up while his other hand held the tip of the vibrator against the underside of his tongue. “You’re fucking wicked.” You swore as your clit disappeared between his upper lip and his pink, filthy tongue. “Fuck Yoongi, you’re the best.”

He exhaled through his nose in some sort of a snicker, pushing on the small button to increase the vibration.

“Oh God. Yoongi— Fuck, like that.” You squealed as you felt him suck you in with wet, slurping noises. “Love.” You said, worry veining your voice. “I’m gonna make a mess.” You warned before raising your hips, parting from his mouth. “Wait.”

He removed the vibrator, opening and closing his mouth quickly before speaking to retrain his tongue muscles. “It’s okay.” He breathed, brushing his cheek against your thigh.

“You’re gonna get wet and smell like sex on the way back home.” You reminded him.

“I can rinse in the bathroom quickly, plus we’re driving by ourselves in the car.” He murmured. “We can if you want to.” He said, reassuringly.

“Get back in place then.” You teased, gently pressing yourself down on his pout and grinding coquettishly. He laughed with his mouth close, digging his fingers into your ass, which made you raise your hips with a small jump.

“I love you so fucking much, Kitten.” He murmured. “Don’t you dare forget that, ____.” He switched the vibrator on, all the way up. “Ready, kitty cat?”

“Bring it on, mister.”

He laughed and got to work. You were pretty sure that the moans you were emitting, joined with the wet, sucking sound that came from Yoongi’s tongue on your drenched clit would probably expose the two of you to the whole floor, and possibly more.

If you had been any more lucid you would have thought of poor mr. Kang guarding the building from the reception, but probably — hopefully — he was far enough not to hear a thing.

Yoongi sped up his game, willing and ready to bring you to the edge once more. He reduced the pressure on your clit, allowing the vibration to travel faster, with less resistance and more power. He shifted his grip from his plush upper lip to the edge of his front teeth, simply grazing your nub as he caressed it with his tongue.

“Yoongi. So sensitive.” You gasped through a muffled moan, your hand pressing against your mouth as you lowered your gaze. He was there, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of you, focusing on each movement, on the taste of you, on your sounds, your heat. Opening his eyes, he winked, realising that he had one last trick up his sleeve. He started brushing the vibrator up and down the underside of his tongue, the act mildly resembling a thrusting motion that had your hips undulating, your breath stopping in your throat.

The high built and built so that when it snapped, you didn’t even realise it, submerging you like a tide, like a small boat in a maelstrom: you felt each roll of your hips, each movement of the vibrator in that straight line underneath Yoongi’s tongue. The high was there, but you still hadn’t felt the peak. You were ready to give up when he slid the bullet off his tongue and into your entrance, pressing it against the tender spot of your vagina, rubbing it as his lips latched to your clit.

“Fuck. Cumming.” You whined before biting your palm. His hand smacked your ass, repeatedly, delivering four or five slaps as if spurring you into riding his face. When he felt your release spill, he stretched his tongue, trying to collect as much wetness as he could, using the bridge of his nose to tease your clit while his mouth was busy. You gushed two, maybe three times before you removed your hand from your mouth, squealing his name and a string of swear words, your hand reaching down, trying to slap his toy-holding hand from between your legs. He understood your gesture and parted from your cunt entirely, letting you recover from the experience while he shut the buzzing device.

“I need in, sweet thing.” He murmured, climbing up clumsily and a little bit helplessly. You rose to your knees, letting him sit on the cushion, helping him fit against your body. “I’m gonna slide in, Kitten. I just need in. Promise.” He kept his sentences short, both for his urgency and your almost shut down brain. Gripping himself steady, he slipped in flawlessly, your drenched walls welcoming his shape, clinging to it and making him swear with how tight you felt right after an orgasm.

“Kitten, so tight.” He groaned, his face falling forward, hiding in the crook of your shoulder. His hips thrusted up while his hands toyed with your breasts, sliding into the shirt you were still wearing. His whole face felt damp against your neck, and you didn’t know if it was sweat or your juices or his saliva as he began drawing a pattern of hickeys on the top swell of your boob. “I can’t hold on.”

“Cum inside, please.” You murmured into his ear, licking the shell and biting the lobe, your hand gently cradling his skull as you enjoyed his grunts and pants against your throat.

As he hammered into you from below, you felt him reaching your cervix, your inner contractions making him come undone, his hands gripping your waist and angrily pushing you onto his lap. The squelching, crude sound, mixed up with his deep groans and the smacking of skin made you close your eyes as you registered every detail. You would come back to this night, when he would be gone, and you would relive it entirely, from start to finish, from the loneliness and coldness of being alone on the sofa, to the anger and revenge of the armchair, to the selfless, devoted attentions you had received twice on the sofa again, and finally this boy-man, hiding against your chest as he vulnerably withered before you.

“God, Kitten.” He breathed out chuckling. “Thank you so much, love. You’re perfect.” He murmured, caressing your back.

“Thanks to you too.” You spoke softly.

“I’m sorry for the last one. I got carried away, I didn’t make you—”

“If you say the verb ‘cum’ I am going to slap your pretty cheeks.” You threatened weakly. “You can do that in a few hours. Wake me up at three am and make sweet love to me.” You propositioned. “Though if I fall asleep, I might sleep for the next ten hours with no chances of being woken up.”

“We need sleep. Both of us.” He hugged you, searching for your hand, twining your fingers together. “But first we need a shower. And we need to rinse before we leave.”

“Closest toilet?” You asked, groaning a little at the idea of getting up, cleaning yourself and all the rest.

“Two rooms away.” He mumbled, his eyes droopy, his head leaning into your shoulder. “Are you feeling okay about everything? I know I pushed it when I left you alone and when I went down on you.” He commented.

“I think we cleared up the air about you ignoring me. It reminded me of when I was with my ex, which is exactly the reason why I bought the toy. He wasn’t happy I used it, but he never said anything or kept me from searching for my own pleasure. Sure though, this was my first time using it with someone. I’ve had a few people before as I said, but it was never… this.” You said, referring to your whole situation with Yoongi.

“How did you feel about how I went down on you?” He asked, always sympathetic.

“I loved it. But that vibrating tongue thingie was sooo kinky. How the hell did you come up with that?” You complimented him.

He chuckled. “I wanted to suck you and I wanted it to be a bit hardcore. It tickled like hell though.” He kissed your cheek. “I didn’t know it would work for you. I had never tried it before.”

“The vibrator was a big ally tonight.”

“Definitely the highlight of the night.” He conceded.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip in your mouth, releasing it with a snap. “I love tasting myself on your mouth.”

He cupped your cheek. “You were amazing on that chair, love.” He praised you, making sure that he gratified you for something that your previous significant other had awfully taken for granted. “I’ll never forget these two covered in me.” He said, bending down to kiss each of your breasts.

“Is your neck okay?” You asked, worried about the way he had reclined his neck before while you sat on his face. “Are you cold?”

“My neck is a bit sore, but some hot water and stretching will solve it. And yeah, I’m a bit cold but it’s okay. Let's fix this place, get dressed and head home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

"Then get up, lazy cat." He teased, poking your sides.

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." You murmured, teasing him as you raised your hips, getting off him.

“You’re sleeping in my bed and we both know it.” He helped you on your feet.

Your lips bent downward as you nodded. “I hate it when you’re right.”

As you turned and bent to gather your wipes he stared at his cum dripping out of your hole, staining your thighs. “Such a shame you’re in love with me,” he replied. His hands gripped your hips, blocking you while his tongue moved between your folds, delivering tiny licks with the tip of his tongue before covering your labia in soft kisses. "All clean, Kitten." He murmured, caressing your naked legs.

"You're the worst." You teased, before his short nails caused goosebumps on your skin.

He stood up behind you. "Fuck, look at this mess." He said, looking at the sofa. "Do we have enough wipes?"

"Oh God."

"No one's gotta know." He commented, and once more you were partners in crime, hiding your thousandth mischief.

You headed for the chair, throwing him his underwear and trousers.

He caught them.

"Bottle of water?" You asked.

"Fridge." He pointed as he slid his boxers on.

You picked up your undershirt, glad that it was a cheap deal, and headed to the small fridge, where you found the water, opening the bottle and pressing your balled up garment against the rim, wetting the fabric.

Next you knelt by the sofa, getting to work.

Yoongi lit a scented candle on the low table, spraying some perfume with a certain desperate motion. "Jeongguk will know. He can smell anything."

You shook your head while you poured some more water on your improvised rag. "Dammit we fucked up."

"Shut up, it was your idea." He taunted you while he found his sweater on the floor, checking it quickly before putting it on with a shiver. "Freezing. Shit."

Once you deemed the damage mostly solved, you grabbed your wipes and used one to eliminate the traces of the water. Checking that no stain remained, you moved on to dressing yourself.

"Have you seen my bra?" You asked.

"No." He murmured, offended, just as you noticed a familiar frill coming out of his bag.

"Why is my bra in your bag?"

"Your bra is not in my bag."

You raised an eyebrow, hooking said frill with your finger and fishing the garment out of his personal tote. "What is this?"

"A fancy hat." He said, barely holding back a laugh.

"Oh, so you're gonna wear that later when we head home?" You asked as you pressed one cup onto his head, the other hanging from the side while you clasped it around his face.

He simply shook it off, bending to kiss your lips. "Don't wear it." He whispered on your mouth.

"I won't." You replied, kissing it once more before placing it back in his bag.

Wearing your panties and buttoning your shirt, you left a couple buttons undone for his viewing pleasure.

He fixed the last few things, opening your coat and helping you wear it.

He fixed his own jacket and caught hold of your waist, placing you in front of him and wrapping his scarf around your neck and face. He kissed your forehead sweetly.

"Get your shoes, I'll do a quick checkup."

While you exited the room, he noticed a small glimmering coming from the crevice between the two cushions. Pushing his fingers in, he managed to pinch the object and pull it out.

He snickered, placing his small treasure before his eyes. "You served well, soldier. You deserve a night of rest. I'll recharge you and keep you safe until next time."

"Who you talking to?" You asked from the corridor.

"Nothing." He placed the vibrator in his pocket. "Coming." He blew on the candle and closed the door.

———————————————

"Hyung, you look well-rested." Jimin greeted him the following morning as he entered the training room.

"I bet he does." Namjoon quipped.

"HE FUCKED KITTEN IN THE STUDIO!" Hoseok announced. "Sorry, couldn't hold it in, you know I can't handle secrets." He said with a sad face, looking at Namjoon.

"Good for him." Taehyung replied.

Jimin looked amused while Jin shook his head, “Is that a good reason to be late, Yoongi? We've been waiting fifteen minutes–"

"Hyung, you arrived two minutes ago." Taehyung replied quietly while Jin shouted, "Shame on you! The disrespect!"

Jeongguk neared Yoongi, patting his shoulder. "I'm sorry I rat you out. I came in last night because you weren't at the dorms. I didn't know. I accidentally said it to Namjoon, Hoseok heard, everyone knows." Guk shrinked in his shoulders. "Sorry." He chirped.

However it was still too early and Yoongi was still too fucked out to care. "Let's just kill this choreo. We better finish soon 'cause I've got Kitten home in my bed to go back to."

Namjoon smirked. "Let's get it."

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts imagine #bts headcanons #bangtan smut #bts scenario #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi smut #yoongi scenario #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi reaction #yoongi one shot

225 notes · View notes

jawabear · 3 years

Note

If you are doing requests right now can I request either 15. “It’s just a scratch” “you got stabbed” “it didn’t go that deep though” or 16. “Oh well! Thank god they missed anything vital! It’s not as if you lost a ton of blood or anything” with either Javi or Frankie? Only if you have a chance to get to it. Thank you so much! I love your writing!

Germany 2012 (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Once again, I’m so sorry that this took so long Anon! But I hope you like it! I went with Frankie because I had this idea for a while and I haven’t written for him in a bit. I hope that’s okay. I have no idea how the army works so it’s probably in correct and notice how I didn’t really used a lot of Tom because F that guy. Readers code name is “Wolfgang” don’t ask me why, I just like it. But it doesn’t play a massive part so you can read it as something else if you want :) hope you enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: fem!reader, injury detail, stabbing, violence, guns, usual army things, mentions of a fear of heights, body self doubt, smutty things, but it’s Frankie so it’s soft

Summary: a mission in Germany back in 2012 set the beginning for their relationship after an unfortunate event

Bullets were flying everywhere from both sides. The men they were after greatly outnumbered, six against what they gather to be 15 or maybe more. All heavily armoured and holding machine-guns that seems to have infinite ammo.

The mission had started out normal for them. An easy recon mission. All they had to do was check the area to find the guy that was dealing in Illegal weapons trading, only to enter if it was clear. As if they were going to follow that, regardless of if it were clear or not they would still go in to look for the guys, find out the information about who he is selling to and then proceed to kill him. But things quickly turned south when one of the guards spotted Santiago as he got into position. The guard had run inside the house yelling that there were intruders and then the shoot out started.

“Fuck, we’ve got to get to higher ground to take these guys down! From this cover we can’t shoot them, we’re to low down” Redfly said down the radio.

“Any one see an vantage point?” Santiago asked.

(Y/N) looked around and spotted a sturdy looking tree to her left, if she could climb it and find a good branch she could take them out easily with her sniper to allow them in. “I’ve found a tree” she reported through her radio “I can get up there and take them out”

“Do it Wolfgang” Ironhead said, she knew that he had nodded but obviously she couldn’t see it.

“Wolfie, you sure?” Catfish asked as he grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving.

She smiled at him and nodded “I’ll be fine Cat” she assured him “cover me”

“You got it” he nodded, releasing her. He continued his shooting and she ran over to the tree he had spotted. She examined it for a moment and began climbing it to perch on the thickest branch she could spot. She lost her footing a few times which strained her wrists as she gripped at its rough bark. She ignored the scratches on her hands and aching in her wrists as she pulled herself up into the branch.

She pulled her sniper from her back and held it in position looking down the scope and lining it up with each member of the gang they were after. Bullet after bullet she shot and they dropped like flies to the ground. “Nice shooting Wolfgang” Pope complimented. She could hear the branch below her crack the longer she stayed there, she tried to pick up her pace but the cracking was starting to worry her.

“The front is clear” (Y/N) spoke down the radio “Redfly, Benny, you’re good to make your approach” she said.

“Making our approach” Redfly told them.

“Cat, Pope, you’ve still got a few ahead, I’ll try and take them out but-“ before she could finish the brach broke out from under her. She was quick to grab the smaller brach above her, her legs gripping the thick truck of the tree “shit” she muttered.

“Shit? Wolfgang what happened?” Catfish asked frantically down the radio.

“The branch snapped” she looked down, she was quite the way up. Her heart pounded against her chest. In all the action she hadn’t realised how far up she really was. She was scared of heights. “Fuck” she panted, her voice shaky as she tried to pulled herself up. She suddenly felt faint, her hands sweating. She managed to pull her self up into the other branch, she grabbed another one above her and tried to steady her breathing as she scoped the men who were still blocking the path for Pope, Catfish and Ironhead. But she couldn’t help but think of how large the distance from the ground to her was. Her hands shaking, she struggled to get a clear shot. “G-guys, I can’t get a clean shot” she said, her voice still shaking “I’m-I’m to h-high up”

“Don’t worry Wolfgang, we got it” Benny cut in. Multiple gun shots were heard and she guessed that the last of the guards on the outside had been taken down.

“Pathway clear, heading into the house” Pope confirmed.

“(Y/N), stay where you are” Cat’s soft voice came through her ear.

“O-okay” she stuttered with a nod she knew he couldn’t see.

He was soon standing at the bottom of the tree “(Y/N), jump” he ordered as he held out his arms.

“Are you crazy?” She questioned him.

“Trust me (Y/N), I’ll catch you, I promise” he assured her. She swallowed thickly and looked down at him. It was such a long way down. She regretted climbing up that damned tree. She gripped the branch tighter in her hand “(Y/N), I swear to you. I’ll catch you”

She took in a deep breath and tried to drop her self down a little bit so the jump wasn’t as high but as she made her decent her foot sleep as she lost grip of the tree and fell. She let out a soft scream as she fell, but she fell against something soft, something that definitely wasn’t the ground.

(Y/N) opened her eyes that she didn’t realise were closed in the first place. Her face pretty much pressed against Frankie’s who lay below her, his arms securely round her waist “I told you I’d catch you” he smiled to her.

“Are you okay?” She asked him softly, her hand brushing a few leaves out of his hair.

“Yeah, are you?” He asked in the same tone, his eyes flicking between hers.

“Mhm” She hummed as she nodded.

“Alright guys, enough playing around, get in here” Pope’s stern voice came in their ears.

The two laughed softly and she rolled off him. They both stood and made their way into the large house. They all regrouped in the large living room that was completely empty, they made sure she was okay and she assured them that she was.

“No cars have left since we got here and we knew he was here. He’s not among the dead so he has to be in here somewhere. He’s clearly hiding” Ironhead summarised the game plan “find him, secure him, we get the information and we take him out”

“Right” everyone nodded and went their separate ways throughout the house being careful not to make a sound.

The floors seemed to creak loudly due to the silence through out the large house, one small noise seemed to echo in every room. She gripped her pistol tightly in her hand as she scanned every room she passed, making sure to check for any off looking areas or enclosed spaces that he could be hiding in.

She made her way into what appeared to be one of the many bedrooms. She looked under the bed and between the sheets, and he wasn’t there. She looked inside the walk in wardrobe and he wasn’t there either. There was another freestanding wardrobe on the other side of the room. She thought it was strange and cautiously walked over to it, but he wasn’t there either. She let out a huff and turned to walk out of the room but then see heard wood scraping across the floor. She turned sharply and saw their target emerge from behind the wardrobe.

Before she could reach for her gun she head the flicking of a knife and the target charged at her. (Y/N) was a master in hand-to-hand combat but she was too caught of guard to gain her composure and fight back. The knife went straight through her side making her groaned.

As he charged at her, his shoulder rammed right into her chest knocking her back wards but she instinctively grabbed hold of him pulling with words to her and she stumbled backwards into the landings barrier. Breaking through the weak wooden beams, the two tumbled down to the floor below them, she landed on an awkward angle, her arm was definitely out of place but she tried to ignore it.

She managed to flip them over and climb on top of him. (Y/N) held him to the floor her hands wrapped around his neck and her knees trapping his arms, the knife long forgotten back upstairs.

“Guys, I got him” she spoke through the radio “by the door”

“Coming to you” Pope said.

She heard footsteps racing towards her and they all appeared, guns at the ready “nice job Wolfgang” Redfly complimented.

She got off him and pulled him up to his knees, Benny got behind him and tied his hands being his back. (Y/N) stepped away for a moment, she placed her hand on her side where the knife had cut into her, she knew it wasn’t going to kill her but it certainly wouldn’t do her any good if she left it bleeding out. She grabbed a bandage from her belt and lifted her shirt slightly, the others were too busy with the interrogation to notice her injury. She hissed in pain slightly as she wrapped the bandage around herself. It was at this point that she began to realise the pain in her arm. As well her wrists from climbing the tree. She grit her teeth and jumped slightly at the gun shot. A body hit the ground.

She looked at saw the Redfly had put a bullet in their targets head, none of them seemed bothered so she guessed they had got everything they needed. She pushed herself off the wall and stumbled a little bit.

“I think we’re good to go” Pope announced with a nod. Everyone else agreed and they soon left the house and made their way back to the large car they had arrived in.

She tried to hide her pain on the drive back but she could feel her blood seeping into the bandage and spreading. Her head fell back against the car and her hand went to her hip “You okay there Wolfgang?” Benny asked, Frankie snapped his head in her direction.

She lifted her head and gave him a soft smile “Yeah, I’m fine” she assured softly. She lifted her hand seeing it was stained red with her blood “just a scratch”

“That’s more then just a fucking scratch (Y/N)” Frankie stated firmly. He carefully lifted her shirt seeing it was almost black with blood, most of it drying already “Santiago, we need to hurry. (Y/N)’s hurt” he spoke down the radio to the driver.

“Right, on it” Santiago agreed.

“I’m fine Frankie” she strained, she jolted back slightly when his finger traced over her wound “I’m pretty sure it missed anything vital. It didn’t go that deep”

“Oh well! Thank god they missed anything vital! It’s not like you’ve lost a ton of blood or anything. Not like you’re going to bleed out here is it” he retorted sharply making her feel more guilty then she already did. He grabbed her hand and held it firmly against her side in hopes to slow the bleeding.

It didn’t take them long to get back to the safe house they had been assigned to. Frankie lifted her into his arms bridal style and brought her into the house, placing her on the sofa and lifting her shirt up further.

Ironhead took his place, taking over with cleaning her wound. All the others could do was watch. “Why didn’t you fucking say anything?” Benny asked angrily.

“By the time I realised we were already fucking leaving” she said back to him. A lie of course.

“But you had enough time to bandage yourself up!” Santiago yelled “you should’ve fucking said something”

She didn’t respond to them, she pressed her lips together and looked away from the to Will who had finished up with bandaging her now clean wound “luckily, you’re right. It did miss anything vital. You’re going to be fine Wolfie” he assured her.

“Thanks Will” she thanked him with a soft smile. She went to push herself up but used her damaged arm and it sent her right back down to her back. She whimpered and hissed at the strange pain that shot through her arm.

“What is it (Y/N)?” Frankie panicked as he came to her side next to Ironhead.

“I landed on my arm when I caught the bastard. Fell from the second floor to the first” she explained through gritted teeth.

They carefully pulled her up to a sitting position and Frankie ran his hand over her shoulder lightly feeling that it was dislocated. “We got to push it back in place” he said.

“Oh fuck” she sighed. The two boys swapped sides. Will put his hand onto her shoulder and Frankie grabbed her hand giving her something to squeeze when Ironhead popped her shoulder back into place.

“You ready?” Will asked her.

“Just do it” she said, her grip tightening on Frankie’s hand.

“Alright. 3...2...-“

“Shit!” She groaned out as he popped her arm back into place.

“There” Will said “should be back to normal now, just try not to move it to much for now”

“Thanks Will” She thanked him again. Always thanking him for something. She looked to Frankie and gave him a soft smile and released his hand. She stood, she looked to Pope and Benny who stood looking away from her, “I’m going to take a shower” she announced quietly as she left the room. She held her side as she walked down the hall into the bedroom she had been staying in the past two nights.

It was dark by the time she had showered, taking her time due to her injured arm and side. She hand re-wrapped the bandage around her side and began putting her clothes on when the door opened and Frankie walked in. He quickly backed out when he saw she was just in nothing but a pair of shorts. Luckily, her back was too him. His face was bright red. She let out a soft giggle and pulled on a loose fitting shirt before walking to her door and opening it.

“Hey Cat” she smiled. He jumped slightly and turned to face her.

“Sorry (Y/N), I should’ve knocked” he apologised.

“It’s okay” she chuckled and waved off his apology. She stepped to the side and allowed him into her room, closing the door behind him.

“How you feeling?” He asked her as he sat on the foot of her bed.

“Alright” she shrugged as she sat beside him “as good as one can feel after they’ve been stabbed” she laughed.

“I’m sorry for the way Santiago and Benny spoke to you earlier. And...I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you. We were just...scared. Scared that it could’ve turned out a lot worse then it did”

“It’s okay Frankie. I know they didn’t mean anything by it. I know you didn’t mean anything by it either. All of you were just looking out for me, and I greatly appreciate that. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I thought I had it sorted..”

He rested his hand on her bare knee. “You shouldn’t have gone up that tree, you know you’re scared of heights”

She nodded “I know” she admitted “I guess...I was just so caught up in everything that...I just didn’t think. And I feel like I fucked everything up. Getting stabbed, dislocating my arm...falling out a fucking tree...”

“You didn’t fuck anything up” he told her “you got him. No mission is perfect, no one leaves without injury. Remember last time? Santiago crushed his ankle, we had to carry him back, but we got through it”

“Right” (Y/N) managed a small smiled “still, I’m sorry...” she rested her hand on top of his. He flipped his hand over and interlaced his fingers with hers “thanks for catching me” she looked at him, their eyes meeting.

“Of course, I’ll always be here to catch you” he whispered to her.

“Frankie...” she whispered back to him. They slowly leaned closer to each other and soon their lips were touching. She squeezed his hand and lifted her free hand to his cheek.

The kiss was sweet but it didn’t last long. They both pulled away from each other but their foreheads still touching. “(Y/N), I think we’ve been doing this silent dance for a while now”

She smiled at him and giggled “I’m glad we both acknowledge how terrible we are at hiding our feelings” He laughed at this. She bit her bottom lip and looked at him through her lashes “could we..maybe...” she ran her hand down his chest.

“Yes” He said all to quickly “but..I don’t want you to think-“

“I won’t think anything Frankie” she assured him with a soft kiss “we both acknowledged our feelings. And we both want this...right?”

“Yes (Y/N)” he nodded. She smiled and kissed him again. He removed his hand from hers and began working himself out of his jeans, sliding them down his legs and kicking them off. She pulled back from him and moved onto the bed. He stood and pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the ground. She bit her lip again as her eyes raked over his body. He was perfect.

She noticed how his chest was dotted with scars, reminded of missions. Most of them she could also remember, one of them was when he decided to be a human shield for her, jumping in front of a bullet that could’ve killed him.

He crawled onto the bed above her and kissed her again. Her hands found their way into his hair and gently tugged on the strands keeping his head against hers. She hummed against his lips and his tongue dragged across her bottom one. She opened her mouth and their tongues danced together. He ultimately won over her and his wet muscle explored her entire mouth, claiming it as his own. He then pulled back from her lips and trailed his kisses down to her neck. But she didn’t want that, she wanted to taste him more.

She pulled at his hair, his head leaving her neck and he smirked at her before pressing his lips to hers again. His rough hands slipped under her shirt and ran up her body, behind careful to miss her injury. He gently grabbed her breasts in his hands and she moaned softly into his mouth. His thumbs ran over her nipples and she whimpered. He was then quick in pulling of the shirt and tossing it to the floor.

She prevented him from leaving her lips, her eyes squeezing shut, she didn’t want him to see her. She wasn’t exactly proud of her body. She couldn’t see any beauty of it. “Baby,” he whispered against her lips “why won’t you let me see you?” He asked.

“It’s nothing nice to look at” she mumbled.

“Please...” he whispered, barely audible. She swallowed and released him from her arms. He pushed himself up to his knees. Now it was his turn to gaze on her body. He ran his fingers lightly over the few scars she had picked up in her career. Given time, he could probably recall how she got each and everyone. “You’re beautiful (Y/N)” he whispered down to her “so beautiful...”

He placed a gentle kiss to her lips and then moved his mouth to her nipples, bringing her left into his mouth while he rolled the other between his thumb and index finger. “Fuck Frankie” she whimpered “god, it feels so good to be touched again”

“When was the last time someone touch you like this (Y/N)?” He asked her, his lips trailing down her body, placing warm kisses over her stomach.

“M-maybe, about five years ago?” She guessed, she couldn’t really think straight. She had dreamed of having Frankie like this with her, and it was so much better then she ever imagined, she didn’t want to think about any of her past lovers, none of them mattered to her, the only person that mattered to her in that moment was the man above her who was loving every inch of her body.

“Well,” he muttered as he brought his lips back to hers, his fingers hooked under her panties and toyed with them for a moment “we can both end our five year streak” he smirked.

She nodded quickly and he slid back down her body, pulling her panties with him. He held her legs open before she could even try to close them from embarrassment. “You’re already wet” he commented with a smirk. She covered her face with her hands and let out a soft groan “baby,” he said softly as he pulled her hands from her face “let me see that pretty face. I want to hear every noise that comes from that pretty mouth” he placed her hands in his hair again and hooked his arms around her thighs.

He brought his mouth down to her wetness and nudged his nose against her a few times before dragging his tongue between her folds. She let out a moan as her head fell backwards “fuck” she whispered. He licked her slowly again and again. Each time she would have the same reaction but her eyes slid shut as she sunk into the feeling.

“You taste so good baby” he complimented “so delicious” she loved the way he looked between her legs. Licking her wetness as if she were his favourite flavour ice cream or something. As if he hadn’t eaten anything in years, five years.

“You feel so good baby...” she hummed as she dragged her fingers through his hair “making me feel so good...”

“Let me make you come” he mumbled.

“Yes...please” she whispered. He pushed his mouth against her and sucked harshly on her clit, his tongue throwing it side to side. She moaned and panted with every flick of his tongue, his hips rolling against his mouth. He removed one of his arms from her thigh, she whimpered when she felt one of his thick fingers press against her hole “F-Frankie” she stuttered, he hummed and slipped his finger inside her “fuck Frankie” she moaned and gripped his hair. He began pumping his finger in and out of her “wh-What fuck what if the g-guys h-hear?” She panted.

“They won’t baby, they’re drinking outside” he assured her, as if on cue a loud laugh erupted from outside. He slipped another finger into her and curled them inside her.

She groaned loudly and rolled her head back biting her bottom lip “oh baby” she moaned “I’m so close..”

“Hmm...come for me, Mi amor” he enticed her, his tongue attacking her clit. Her grip tightened in his hair, holding his mouth closer against her.

“Fuck fuck fuck” she cursed, her walls clenching around his fingers, his hips stuttering against him as she let out a shaky moan.

“So good...” he mumbled “so fucking good baby” her chest was heaving slightly as he pulled his fingers out of her, he lapped his tongue up her a few times. He moved his face from between her legs and trailed his lips up her body, this time only kissing her scars, his lips lingering on each mark. Frankie moved his face back to hers. He slipped his wet fingers into her mouth and she happily sucked on them while holding his wrist. “You’re so beautiful...you look so good after you come...”

“You made me feel so good..” she mumbled against his fingers. He pulled them out of her mouth and replaced them with his lips. Her hands came to rest on his cheeks “I want to feel you inside me baby...”

He nodded and she rolled him onto his back, climbing on top of him. She moved down his body and pulled down his boxers and threw them to the floor. She almost drooled at the sight of his length and how it was already dripping with pre-come. “Oh baby...” she whispered. Her tongue slid out of her mouth and licked over the tip of his length.

“Fuck...(Y/N)” he gasped. She took his length into her hand and began stroking him while sucking on his tip. “Baby, fuck, baby please...I just want to be in you” he begged softly.

She released him and straddled his waist. She positioned his length at her hole and slowly sunk down onto him. They both groaned at the feeling. Her hands were flat on his chest as she began to steadily bounce on him. “You feel so good Frankie...” she whimpered. He gripped her sides, just above her hips as he was weary of her injury.

“Shit, so do you baby” he groaned “so fucking tight”

She rolled her hips against him and he let out a loud groan. Her pace began to pick up and her nails dug slightly into his chest. Her breath came out in heavy pants, she took one of his hands and pulled it up to her throat. He slightly tightened his hand around her and a smile formed on her lips “so dirty” he growled “you like having my hand wrapped around your perfect neck baby?”

“Yes” she whispered, she groaned and gripped at him. He could feel her walls clenching around him, the squeeze made his head spin. “I’m going to come again...”

He flipped her so she was back on her back and he began to pound into her. She grabbed his wrist and choked out a moan of his name. He grunted with every thrust into her. “Make me come again...make me come around you” she panted breathlessly.

“I will baby, I’ll make you scream” she shivered at the deepness of his voice.

“Yes..” she whimpered. He slipped his free hand between their bodies and began to rub harsh circles on her clit “fuck!” She yelped, her back arching up, her chest hitting against his. “Fuck, fuck Frankie!” Her walls were pulsing around him, her face flushed red and her eyes beginning to water. “Fuck-I’m coming!”

“Yes baby, come for me” he grunted to her. Her nails dug into his wrist as she came, her head being thrown backwards. But his relentless pace didn’t stop, if anything he went faster. Tears began to slip from her eyes at the overstimulation and the lack of air in her lungs.

“Come Frankie, please come inside me” she whimpered. He thrust into her a few more times and released inside her, his hot come shooting into her.

“Fuck” he grunted. His hips stilled and he removed his hand from her neck and she drew in a sharp breath. His face fell into her neck.

She hummed, a smile on her face, her fingers gliding through his hair as he breathed heavily into her neck “a great way to end a five year streak” she giggled he just nodded to her “worth the wait...”

“Definitely” he mumble. He lifted his head from her next and placed a heavy kiss to her lips that slowly got softer as his breath came back. “Do you think..” he began, running his hand up and down her side “we could make this a thing?”

“Having sex?” She asked

“Well yes, but like...us...together”

“Together?” She smiled “you want to be with me?”

“Yeah..I really like you (Y/N). I think you’re amazing. You’re so beautiful and strong and you hold us all together. And I know that maybe it’s not a great time to get into a relationship but..I’m willing to try if you are”

She pulled him back down for a kiss and rolled him over so she was back on top. His arms wrapped around her waist and gently held her on top of his chest “I really like you too Frankie” she said as she stroked his cheek “I think we can make this work...I want to make this work...”

“I want to work too...but...we’ve been friends for years, I don’t want this to ruin it. Like, if something happened between us, I don’t want it to ruin our friendship”

She nodded and kissed him again “I can understand what you mean. Hopefully, nothing does happen to us, but if it does, I don’t think I could live without you in my life regardless of if we’re together or not. You’re my best friend Frankie, I think we can do this”

“I hope so. I’ve wanted to be with you for ages baby. I’ve wanted to hold you like this, feel you like this, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day we met”

“Please kiss me” he smiled and laced his fingers into her hair to hold her lips against his. Both of their hand now rested on his cheeks. She shifted slightly and felt his length move inside her. She giggled “I forgot you were still inside me baby”

“Me too, I was wondering why I felt so warm” she sat up but he desperate chased her lips by sitting up as well, his hands flattening on her back and kissing her again. “I never want to stop kissing you”

“Can you at least pull out of me?” She laughed. He groaned and shifted under her and pulled his length out of her letting out a harsh breath as he did. “Do you think we should tell the others?” She asked him, she rolled off him and led in her side, he too rolled over on his side, propping his head up on his hand.

“We probably should...” his eyes looked down her body and his hand grabbed lightly at her side, running his thumb over her skin. “But..I don’t know how they’ll take it. There are rules against this right? About dating within the army...”

(Y/N) hummed in agreement knowing he was probably right “How do you want to play this?” She asked quietly.

Frankie looked to the door of the room and thought for a moment. “Which ever way allows us to be together” he began before looking back to her “that’s the way I want to play”

04/02/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you wanted to be added to or removed from the list)

#frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales fanfic #triple frontier #pedro pascal #fluff #angst #smut #fanfic

81 notes · View notes

bangtanlalaland · 4 years

Text

a dose of relief | ksj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ the CDC’s hottest scientist so happens to be your lab partner. how much longer will it take until he has you begging for him?

— health scientist!au

⇢pairing: CDC health scientist!kim seokjin x female reader

⇢genre: crack, pwp, smut

⇢word count: 5.7k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: so sorry for this filthy porn with no plot, I’m also horrible @ science (even though it’s one of my fave subjects in school) so plz forgive me if I said something wrong or certain facts are incorrect, I tried to not use so many details/specifics on the science ooey gooey stuff in case that could trigger anything amongst readers, srsly tho somebody call the fanfic writing police, omg, there’s so much tension lolol, Jin is a dom in this OMFG, masturbation, mentions of an outbreak (oops sorry), lab sex (yes, I really went there plz don’t judge me [I know I’m a dirty hoe]), semi-public sex? (not really, but almost) use of sex toys, hair pulling, spitting, face/ass/pussy slapping & licking (oop), unprotected sex (lolol the irony; STAY SAFE!), orgasms (duh), creampie, degradation, so much name calling (holy fuck), JIN HAS A BIG DICK OK (BECAUSE WE LOVE BIG DICKS RIGHT?!)

a/n: honestly I find it so hard to write for Jin & IDK WHYYY. so I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to let the light shine on him for this one. besides, Jin would make the PERFECT hOTTesT SCIENTIST. because WHY NOT?!?! oh & let this fic just be a reminder for those of you out there (you know who I’m talking about): WEAR A GODDAMN MASK.

Seokjin Kim.

The name of the most handsome man in the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and yet you cannot spend a minute around him without perspiring. Because, well, you’re convinced he just has that affect on everyone. When in reality, it’s really only you. You sweat bullets being around him.

And he knows this. Which is why he’s near you again, looking just as sexy as he did the day before, attired in his white, lab coat — his blonde tresses clouding your vision as he wanders through the lab. You internally curse the universe for having made you both cross paths. You’d often speculate why he’s working here as a scientist. Shouldn’t he be somewhere on the front cover of like GQ Magazine or something? But no, for whatever reason, in this fucked up world we live in, he’s currently in the lab with you, performing test results, by using various liquid solutions.

“Ah, I can’t wait to finally clock out tonight.” Seokjin states while flicking a test tube that remains between his glove-covered fingers, gently placing the blood sample along with other tubes in the tray to be put away in the cooler.

“Hot date I’m assuming?” You question with a secret hint of jealousy oozing from your words — observing a sample through the microscope, turning the knobs to adjust the coarse and fine focus.

Jin beams at your assumption, shaking his head, “Ah. Nice one. But no.”

Your gaze flies up to his towering figure, raising your eyebrows, “So what is it?” You try not to get too lost into staring at his plump, pink lips. He almost catches you eyeing him and you instantly look away, darting your vision back into the microscope.

“I have the whole weekend off,” He coos with a giddy expression, and you internally scoff. That fucker.

You shake your head, “Sounds great!” No, it doesn’t sound great. Because he’s probably happy that he gets to be off so he can be with someone- Wait, no. He’s clearly not going on a date. Duh, he just told you that. Okay, now you’re really just fishing for something, but you’re also jealous of him that he’s off the entire weekend. These past few months have been hell, courtesy of a recent outbreak — every official, scientist, representative and whomever in the CDC is currently working day and night, non-stop to formulate a vaccine. Therefore you shuck away your feels, because you know Jin has more seniority than you within the company. You’d only just been transferred to his department right before the outbreak had occurred.

“Some well needed rest, huh?” You question, an attempt to keep the conversation going while also being the nosey old woman you are deep down inside. “You need it,” You unconsciously continue, somewhat too occupied in ensuring the proper amount of the sodium hypochlorite solution drops are added, squeezing the pipette carefully.

Jin nods his head in agreement, “Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Could definitely use what I call the Four S’s.” Your eyebrows furrow, more-so at concentrating on your accuracy.

But you hear him, and once the final drop of solution has been added, you pull away from the microscope, discarding the pipette in the proper disposal bin. “Four S’s?” You ask, with a tilt of your head.

“Mmhmm,” Jin seats himself on the stool in front of you, placing his hand under his chin. “Soup, soju, sex, and sleep.”

You nearly topple over when trying to seat yourself, and he doesn’t miss your clumsiness either. He thought it was cute how flustered you suddenly became, and he knew why you had. The word sex having stood out amongst the others he’d mentioned. You’re smoking under his gaze, a sudden wave of heat flashing over you within the blink of an eye. Ugh, how you hate the way he does this to you. Whatever this is. With a flicker of his eyebrows, a coy grin creeps upon his face. And you nervously swallow a gulp, easing the parched feeling in the back of your throat.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat, “Sounds like one hell of a weekend.” He continues his smirk at you, and at this point you grow slightly annoyed. Oh, his stupid hot face. Why does he keep staring like that?

“What?” You deadpan.

With a suck of his teeth, he pushes himself off the stool and stands up on his two feet, “Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” he coos with a wink. Yes, the fucker actually winked! You had to double check within your mind that you’re fully conscious because you couldn’t believe he did that. Jin doesn’t flirt with you, like ever. And you know that even he knows this, that grin still plastered upon his face. How the hell does he do it? Do this to you?

The sound of the door clicking signals his departure, to what you only assumed he was going on his lunch break. But the real question is, does he know? He must know that you are attracted to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have insinuated you’d “miss” him. Fuck. You’re screwed and you know it. Unfortunately not in the way you’d like to be screwed.

—

The weekend didn’t fly by like a breeze as it normally would, but instead dragged. You thought at one point the time may have just frozen, but subconsciously you knew that wasn’t even remotely possible. Although, you’re convinced that the reason for it all is because Seokjin wasn’t there. Normally, you’d both share the same shifts on weekends and everything felt in tune. You’d complete tests, run samples, and literally anything else under the sun together. But the time felt different when with him, and you’re beyond relieved to find that the end of your shift approaches. You both say your farewells and do it all over again the next day. It became a routine, really, one that you’d grown accustomed to.

However, since his weekend off, you felt something change, and you didn’t like it. You noticed since the start of your shifts, he permeated an odd vibe. Jin wasn’t making eye contact with you, and hell he didn’t greet you when he clocked in. Even when you’d discussed to your boss that after copious amounts of research and tests, the sodium hypochlorite solution kills various diseases and viruses, including HIV/AIDS, although said concoction is overly toxic for ingestion.

Seokjin never spoke or added anything from his research to back up your claim, which was completely degrading to you, because well… teamwork — he made you feel as though the countless amount of hours you’d both spent in the lab together was a waste. So yes, it was strange. He was acting strange, and you didn’t know whether to be gloomy or pissed about it all. After the meeting with the board, discussing the current problems with hygiene and public health, you returned to your station with Jin. You decide to test the waters and break the awkward silence since he wouldn’t.

You clear your throat in an attempt to draw his attention, but fail, his back still turned to you, “How was your weekend?”

He continues his work, not even flinching when you’d suddenly spoke. He replies so fast you were convinced he just knew exactly what you were going to say and simply waited for you to do so.

“Great,” he retorts with a nonchalant tone. You hear a few snap-like sounds and immediately note that he’s placing his gloves on. He brushes past you and into the cooler, removing a tray of blood samples to set them down onto the counter. You bite back a remark and instead try again.

“Had any good soup?” You internally cringe at yourself for saying something so stupid, but you can’t help but be the curious cat you are. Then his silence doesn’t make it any better. Here you are again, “Or at least some proper rest?”

His eyes finally meet yours, and you can’t quite read his pokerface. “I did,” He adds with still the most blank expression you’d known him to make. His gaze drops back toward the test tubes he’s busied himself with.

You continue to probe him, even though your insides scream otherwise, “Couldn’t have forgotten about the soju too, right?” You question, a tone laced with curiosity. He makes a simple “mmhmm” sound, clearly understanding where you’re going with this. A brief moment of silence subsides between the both of you, and for a moment you appreciated it but another side of you just had to know. Your essence ached for an answer, even though if said answer wasn’t one you’d want to hear, you still had to know. And you swear the phrase, “Curiosity kills the cat” could explain this moment in time.

“W-what about….” You trail off, in hopes he’d catch on. His eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but want to shribble up under his stare — whilst his defined lids peer into you, as if cascading into your soul.

“What about what?” Jin knows the next question you want to ask, and part of him wishes you’ll just ask already. He needs your inquiry of his sexcapades, because truth be told, he has none; and he’s on the brink of bending you over on this counter and fucking you senselessly — a burning ache, desperate to release his pent up frustration, mixed with the daily stresses that come along with work. His eyes linger onto your facial features, searching for a warning that you’d finally cave in, that by some miracle you’d admit you want him in just as a lustful manner as he wants you. Needs you. His weekend having been a long, cold, and lonely one. He’d desperately yearned for a woman’s touch, a dry spell long overdue.

He notes how your lips part and eyes widen, as if you’re stuck like a deer in headlights and don’t know how to simply let the words flow from your tongue. His pink, plush lips catch your attention, his bottom lip protruding in a manner that’s tempting for you to simply lick the flesh — the need to graze your teeth along the tissue clouding your mind. You suck in a quiet gasp, but audible enough for Jin to hear you. The sudden twitch of his member down below, the visual of having you whimper underneath him having flashed through his imagination. You instinctively obscure any second thoughts of your actions, because if he didn’t want you to know then why would he have mentioned the “Four S’s?” It’s like he’s calling your name, indirectly. Seokjin knows how curious you’ve always been, and it’d be silly to not know such a fact. After all, you’re a scientist that works for the CDC.

The more dense part of you spills, “Well, you know-” His eyebrow quirks up at you, as if not falling for your little trap. No, he wants to hear you say it, he wants those words coming out of you and streaming to his eardrums.

That familiar hum he has a habit of making slips from him, “Hm- No, I don’t.

He proceeds to his previous endeavors, scouring through the cabinets for some tools. You stand there dumbfoundedly, and cursing your own self for not having the courage to just speak your mind. Seokjin marvels at your conflicted expression, thanking his own self for not giving in so easily — because he wants to confirm his assumptions and needs you to make that move. He definitely didn’t want to be the first to impose, just in case you were to reject him and immediately perform some type of backlash technique. The last thing he needed was to lose his job and/or face a lawsuit for harassment. He ignores your stiff figure and gracefully mixes various liquids into a beaker. Your fingers tap along the counter and mind races hundreds of miles per hour. Just do it.

“Sex,” You whisper. His stirring stops suddenly and eyes move to yours with a slight tilt of his head. “Did you… Have sex?” You add, voice barely above a whisper. Jin sighs in relief, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders — the air now somewhat less stuffy, and he chooses to stifle back a moan of satisfaction at your question. And within an instant, he scoffs, sending a rush of discouragement over your being.

He shakes his head while a sly grin paints upon his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know, hm?” You roll your eyes at him, can’t even believe the audacity. Of course, you should have known he’d be comical about it. Because that’s what Jin does, which makes you question how he’d even passed the entire hiring process to be promised and given this position.

With a slight pull of your strands out of frustration, you retort, “What the hell, Jin? You were the first one to mention “the Four S’s” You make sure to exaggerate air quotation marks on the phrase.

“And now you’re acting like you can’t even say if you’ve gotten some over the weekend. What am I not allowed to ask you questions anymore?!” Seokjin stares at you with wide eyes, immediately making you feel guilty for your sudden outburst. But what was he to expect? How could he not think you’d be curious of how his weekend ended after revealing to you his much needed desires. You palm your face in embarrassment, not wanting to meet his gaze any longer. And that’s when he removes his gloves, discarding them in the designated bin, and the feel of his palms encase around yours, pulling you from your hidden position to reveal your face that’s now strained with a painful look.

“If it makes you feel any better… I haven’t had sex.” His sweet voice oozes of comfort, granting a sense of calmness to reside within you.

“It’s been so long, and I am actually going to lose my mind if I don’t soon enough.” His confession causes you to gasp lowly, and he notices this. You hadn’t realized he was still holding your hands, his fingers long and cold, rubbing light circles within your palms. You know that he’s telling the truth; his eyes screaming for attention. Jin is desperate, and you sense that, which would explain why he’d been so tense ever since showing up to work today. You take this chance to take in every feature he has to offer. His broad shoulders aiding to tower his figure above yours just as he constrains his neck slightly to glare into your eyes. Your mouth flies agape just by an inch, and you hadn’t realized how close Jin was to you. You could feel the warmth of his breathing from his nostrils hitting you like the heat boiling down below.

You had a dire need to just smash your lips with his to finally know what the pillow-y tissue feels like between your own. His deep, chocolate irises reeling you in and suddenly your hand clenches tight underneath his touch. He notices and releases his grip from you, not realizing he’d been holding you this entire time.

And then you break the ice suddenly, “I think you should get that taken cared of soon.” Jin watches your form whilst you depart yourself from the room. Entering the main hall, you hadn’t processed how warm the atmosphere in the lab had been — a thin sheen of sweat coating your face and neck, courtesy of Seokjin Kim.

—

And then things got weirder.

There was this unspeakable tension between the two of you. You hardly made much eye contact with him at work now. You trained yourself (somewhat) to not ask so many questions during your shifts together, and if Jin noticed this then he definitely didn’t show or tell that he did. You’d find yourself going home at the end of the day and pulling out your favorite vibrator just to orgasm at the thought of Seokjin and his rosy, juicy lips, slender fingers that you know could reach the highest of places; those silky, light, blonde strands that long for you to tug on them as he buries himself in between your legs. However, Jin does the same, even on that weekend when he was off. He coated himself in lubricant and acquired his pocket pussy to stuff his thick length through the silicone material, imagining that it was your walls encasing around his cock instead.

Bucking his hips upwards, wanton moans spilled from him whilst he continued to ride out the waves of pleasure he’d endured just by dreaming of you. He continuously re-played the sight of your face over and over again in his mind, when you’d looked up at him that day in the lab — with glossy, bright eyes twinkling of curiosity. He wanted right then and there to shove himself down your throat and make you choke on his big dick. At the moment his groin tensed up and balls ached to release his load, he moaned your name repeatedly, as if he was summoning you into his bed. Streams of his cum erupted into the sleeve, soaking his length with the creamy substance just as he huffed for air, an attempt to gain back his normal breathing pattern.

And then the next day…

He did it again.

But this time it was different. He opted for his palm instead and your voice. He scrambled through anything in his phone that could get him off, more like anything of you in his phone. Until it dawned on him. You’d left him a voicemail back when you first got hired, introducing yourself to him and asking him to give you a call back to discuss work-related matters.

Bingo.

Your voice sent tingles down his spine as it resonated through the speakers of his iPhone. Jin quietly hummed at your words, as if he was agreeing to what you were saying — even though it had nothing to do with sex or pleasing him in any matter.

“Wish you were here,” He slips with his eyes shut, whilst his palm eagerly strokes his stiff cock, fingers gently brushing along the vein on his shaft.

“Need you so bad. Want to make you scream my name.” He replays it again with a hiss through his teeth. Drips of precum seep from the head of his cock; he lightly grazes the flesh with his long fingers, stimulating the sensitive area. The squelching noises from his slick length can be heard throughout his apartment as he pumps himself vigorously.

Another uncontrollable hum spills from Jin when he replays the recording again, picturing you on your knees blowing him off until you lose your breath.

“Hi Mr. Kim!”

How much he loves when you call him that. He’d almost forgotten when you used to address him that way, until he insisted that you didn’t have to and to simply refer to him as Jin.

“Mmm, love it when you used to call me that,” Jin whispers softly.

His hips move on their own, bucking up into his hand. His thighs clenching as he continues to fuck himself through his palm, and with furrowed brows he claws the sheets of his bed at the sound of your voice.

“This is ____, I was just transferred to your department and was told to follow up with you for any questions I may have.”

Jin’s hums now turned into moans, “Oh, fuck. Want to make you cum on Mr. Kim’s cock.”

“Anyways, if you could please give me a call back then I would really appreciate it. I look forward to meeting you!”

Jin’s toes curl at the last statement, his lips part instinctively and thighs stiffen themselves. His impending orgasm approaches as he cries out in pure bliss, “Oh, yeah! F-fuck!”

His chest rises and falls when streams of cum project onto his abs, some coating his fingers — while he softly pumps himself to rid of the remaining secretions. His loose strands stick to his forehead, thanks to the built up perspiration due to the raise in his body temperature. Jin lies there with a shaky breath and trembling thighs paired with thoughts of you. How much he wished his cum hadn’t gone to waste, how he wished he could cum so much inside of you that you gush pools of his jizz when he removes himself out of you. And lastly, how he’s nearly on the brink of risking it all just to be inside you.

—

One morning you break through the doors of the lab you share with Jin, to find him peering through a microscope. You can’t take it anymore; it’s been too long since the day you’d met him that you wanted to literally devour him whole. The need to hold your composure now thrown out the window completely. You snatch your badge off of you followed by your coat and slam your hand onto the counter, startling him from his work.

“I need you to fuck me until my brain is dead and I forget who I am and that we are in the middle of a pandemic.”

Seokjin’s mouth and eyes fly as wide as they can go. Without hesitation, he perks up from the stool and nearly tumbles over to tear his gloves off, remove his glasses, coat, and protective mask. He hurriedly washes his hands in the nearby sink, his eyes still traced on your uptight form. With lips still parted, he makes his way back to you and grips your sides, caressing you as if he’s admiring this moment of you standing here in front of him, begging for only him. He can’t process what’s actually happening and so he opts to do so later, and instead just appreciate this moment — a dream that finally came true. Unexpectedly, he lunges you against the counter, causing your back to hit the handles of the drawers.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?” He admits with a tone that’s mixed with lust.

Jin’s warm breath breezes past your face, sending a wave of chills down your spine. He cups your cheeks, and captures you in a heated kiss. His plump lips smooth out your own, a faint hint of coffee left on his tastebuds that signals you he more than likely had a cup of Joe this morning — your kisses filled with a fiery passion you didn’t know would finally come to light. His hands fall down to grip your waist in a feverish manner. Your fingers laced into his hair, an action you’d wanted to perform for what seems like forever now. His strands feel like satin under your fingertips.

His hands trail down to your ass cheeks, gripping the cushions with a hungry force. A rush of wetness seeps into your panties, and you silently convince yourself that you’d never been more horny until now. With teeth and tongues clashing, hands roaming along each others bodies, you both lose yourselves within each others touch — drifting into the euphoria of finally being relieved of the backed up tension that accumulated over these lonesome months. This moment in time was everything Jin had wished for. He yearned to have you in this way, and he’d only accept it if you were comfortable with doing so. The pang in his groin area throbs due to his high libido. Those nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you were now just a memory. When the burning need to breathe approaches, you both pull away panting for air. Jin’s already full lips now swollen and wet, his gorgeous almond-shaped eyes staring down your form in awe.

Your palms rest on his wide shoulders, caressing them with desperation.

“Please, Jin.” You plead with a whine. Within a swift he turns you around and bends you over. Your grip lands on the counter, knocking down the numerous utensils he’d previously been using, an almost failed attempt at keeping your balance. Jin roughly pulls your garments down, showcasing your panties. He brushes his digits along your covered core that pulses, almost as if speaking to his fingers. He applies more pressure, earning a small whimper. His erection gradually growing itself behind his briefs. He uses his index finger to pull your lacy undergarment to the side, a final reveal of your juicy lips. Your core clenches in front of him, as if calling to welcome him within your walls.

And suddenly a harsh slap lands on your delicate womanhood. You nearly fall apart on the spot at the abrupt infliction.

“That’s Mr. Kim to you.” He slips harshly and yanks your panties down to your ankles, your feet having tossed them somewhere in the distance. You hear the unbuckling of his belt, and he swiftly drops his trousers on the ground along with his briefs pooling at his ankles. His erect cock springs up, teasing the cheeks of your ass. And before you could even turn your head to take in the view of him, Seokjin slaps your lips a few times, the tip of his cock grazing against your clit while doing so. He then shoves himself entirely into you within one go, not even thinking to spare you even just for a moment. You knew you didn’t have to actually see his dick to know how big it is because damn did he stretch you out like you’d never been stretched before. You relentlessly pulsate around him, soaking him in your juices.

The pads of your fingertips grip onto the edge of the countertop. “Oh fuck me, oh!”

“Wow, you’re so tight. Fuck.” Jin moans. You find your hair being pulled back; he whispers into your ear, “I’m going to fucking give it to you, you hear me?” His large palm lands a rough smack to your ass cheek.

“Yes! S-sir!” You cry out, and another slap reoccurs, a familiar tingly sensation shoots straight to your heat. You didn’t think Jin was this dominate, but you’re convinced after such a drastic period of time, it would only make sense that he’d release his tension as he pleases. He creates his own brutal pace — relentlessly pounding your pussy out with no mercy. Your body bounces forward from Jin’s ferocious strokes, and your scalp aches from his tug on your hair.

“So wet, so tight,” He whispers to himself, blowing yet another smack to your bottom, followed by a gentle rub, an attempt to ease the soreness. You’re sure he’d leave a mark on you. The sound of his balls clapping against your cheeks resonates through the lab, and you internally pray that no one walks in because how fucked you’d both be if that happens. But at the same time, you really could care less because you’re being fucked by the hottest man in the company and that’s what matters right now.

“Fuck me, Mr. Kim! Please don’t stop!” His tug on your hair gets tighter. His delicate strands flapping up and down in the process of him hammering into you, his Adam’s apple bobs as moans emit from him, and his cock drenches itself in your arousal. He cherishes the sight of his dick entering and exiting your kitty, only for him to thrust forward into you with a sharp jab. He treasures your soft whimpers and cries of his name.

Jin pulls himself out of you completely, and you whine at the sudden loss of contact.

“Turn around,” With shaky legs, you comply and Jin gestures you to sit down on the stool — wrapping his arms under your knees and pulling your legs apart as wide as they can go, your drenched cunt on full display for his horny being.

You can finally see him and nearly cum on the spot at the sight of his huge cock. It’s beautiful, he glimmers of your wet — his mushroom tip approximately the same shade of color as his lips. He gives your pussy a few taps, mimicking a “knocking on the door” motion. The tip of his member prods your entrance, your fingers grip his forearms in hopes to not crumble from his ministrations, your legs eagerly wrapping themselves around his small waist. Once Jin’s length pushes past your folds, your walls immediately welcome him inside.

A fervor moan spills from you, and this time he doesn’t let up on your tender core, continuing where he left off with his rigid pace. With one hand gripping your waist, he uses the other to grip your neck, “Look at you all needy and desperate,” He slaps your face teasingly, earning a yelp from you. “I knew you wanted me this whole time.”

Another slap with a bit more force. A soft gasp falls from your fucked out self.

“Wanted me to destroy your tight little pussy just like this?” He forces a deep thrust, followed by another and another and another, gaining a strained cry from you. Your walls contract around his hardened length, begging for his motions to never stop. He slaps you again, making sure to leave a mark behind on your cheek.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He uses this time to slap your clit harshly, unsatisfied with not receiving a response from you.

You whimper in reply, a sudden jerk of your thighs, “Y-yes, Mr. Kim!”

Jin slaps you again, “Who’s a cock-hungry little slut for Mr. Kim?” He continues to slap your face again, alternating between your left and right cheek.

And again.

His filthy words cause a tingly sensation straight to your core, “Me. I-I am a slut for you, Sir.”

And again.

That familiar hum rumbles from Jin’s chest, an approval laced in satisfaction, “Mmm, that’s right. You’ll walk around this facility with my cum buried deep inside you. Understand?” He punctuates his question with a thrust so deep, you swear you feel him in your tummy.

“Yes, Sir!” You cry out with trembling legs. He’s hitting your sweet spot so well, and with another slap to your face, your eyes prick with tears. Jin’s overpowering demeanor is nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“Play with your clit.” He demands, and you follow. Your fingers find the nub to gently rub along the sensitive nerves, causing your thighs to twitch within Jin’s hold.

“Harder,” he commands. You comply and add more pressure, a boiling heat rising in the pit of your tummy. You close your eyes and focus on the sounds of Jin’s panting and your thighs smacking against his. He lands another harsh slap to your face, and squeezes your cheeks together with one hand.

“Open your mouth.” You obey him and find yourself opening up as he requests. He drops a line of his warm saliva onto your tongue, and demands, “Swallow.”

Your clit throbs in pleasure and he notes you’ve stopped rubbing yourself. With a gulp, you ingest his spit with a whimper. Jin slaps your clit this time, your legs naturally jerking in response.

“Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” He probes while halting his thrusts. You nod your head in a no gesture, “N-no Sir.”

He slaps your aching clitoris repeatedly, then pulls himself out of you. Your walls cry at the loss of his thick cock. He bends down to forcefully slap your pussy, running his fingers along your dripping heat and within moments he lewdly spits on your wet folds, his saliva now glistening your already soaked labia. His tongue darts out to slither along your lips and he places a wet kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“I’d love to keep eating you out, but I’ve been dying to get inside this pussy,” He sheathes his member back inside of you and buries himself to the hilt, pulling back out all the way and slamming back into you. He releases another trail of his spit onto his shaft, smothering himself more. He licks the pad of his thumb and rubs your clit relentlessly, while giving you short and fast strokes; and suddenly your toes curl themselves at the same time your eyebrows furrow.

Seokjin notices your contorted expression, and with a beaming grin, he coos, “That’s right. Cum for Mr. Kim like the good, little slut you are.”

“Cumming, Oh fuck!” Your body quivers within his hold while your orgasm overtakes you, even the stool you’re still seated on slightly skids across the floor beneath you. Jin helps to ride your orgasm out, applying just the right amount of pressure as you writhe underneath him. Your nails graze along his clothed biceps, his sleeves now scrunched and wrinkled, and you honestly have no shame — too lost in being drowned into your orgasm.

He groans at the feel of your cunt contracting around his cock, his thrusts now gaining a sloppy momentum. “Fuck, didn’t know you could get so tight.” His eyes fall down to his cock — the sight of your lady lips sucking him in entirely and contracting around his shaft tips him over the edge.

Seokjin gazes into your eyes with parted lips and lets out a shuddering moan dipped in ecstasy, his nails dig into the flesh of your waist as he rides out his high.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly says. A sudden warmth down below causes you to witness Jin’s cock pulsing as thick ropes of his cum surges into you, painting your walls and filling you up entirely of him. He joins you in watching himself gradually ease out of you. You clench your walls intentionally; Jin’s cum drains from your fucked out heat and drips onto the ground.

You both remain in silence, the sound of your breaths filling up the entire space. Before you could even process what just happened, or simply let out a syllable or two, the double doors of the lab burst open.

There stood a tall, slender man with glasses and a dark-chocolate, bowl cut. His deep, baritone voice sends a shuddering chill through you.

“Someone’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Ah, shit.” Jin whispers, with both hands on his hips and his soft length now flaccid. You cover your face in your palms, in full shame.

#bts smut #jin smut #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #mikrogalaxynet #ficswithluv #kim seokjin

602 notes · View notes

astorytotellyourfriends · 3 years

Note

because "reggie in all the pretty and lacy things to wear" is a thing to think about at least five times a day, what are your thoughts on how it got started polycurve style?

oh anon you are absolutely correct, everyone should be thinking about reggie in pretty and lacy things all day every day.

i imagine this is going to get v long v quickly so it's under a cut for the sake of everyone's dashes lol

so maybe one day the guys are all at some vintage clothes shop in hollywood because one or more of them wanted to find some new-to-them stuff (lbr probably luke wanting to find more old band shirts he could cut the sleeves off of) and while they're all wandering around/browsing, Reggie finds something that catches his eye. he pulls it off the rack and quickly realizes that it's definitely meant to be worn by a woman and so he rushes to put it back before anybody sees he's picked it up, but he doesn't stop thinking about it.

maybe it sticks around in his head long after they've left the shop. it was soft and lacy and it looked so nice even for the five seconds Reggie actually let himself look at it. he goes back a couple days later without the others and tells himself that if it's not there, then it's the universe telling him to move on and forget all about it.

but it's still there. he checks the price tag and it's maybe twenty bucks, so there's not really anything holding him back from buying it - except maybe facing the cashier at the front of the shop. his hands shake as he takes it off the rack and by the time he makes it to the counter to buy it, he's bright red. the cashier is a woman not much older than he is, and she barely even blinks when he lays it down on the counter between them.

Reggie's sweating bullets as he hands over the cash to pay for it, but the cashier doesn't mention a single thing about the fact that he's a boy buying a dress. she folds it up gently and puts it in a bag and hands it over with his change and tells him to have a good day, and he practically races out of the shop afterwards.

the problem is... he has nowhere to hide it at home. if he were still living with his parents then it would probably go under the bed or at the back of his closet, but now that he's living with the band and they're kindasorta all dating each other... privacy has gone down to practically nothing.

somehow, Reggie manages to keep it a secret for a while. he keeps the bag hidden in an old backpack of his and he keeps that hidden in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets that they rarely open.

he waits and waits for an opportunity to have some time to himself to try it on and until it happens, it's always nagging at him in the back of his mind. finally the day comes where Bobby and Luke want to go to guitar center and Alex has some sort of plans with another friend, which leaves Reggie with the option of either going along with Bobby and Luke or staying home.

he manages to convince them that he doesn't need anything at guitar center - which is mostly true, though having spare strings for his bass is never a bad thing - and tries to act totally normal while deep down he's praying that they all leave the apartment as soon as possible.

even after they're all gone, it takes Reggie at least twenty minutes to actually work up the nerve to put the dress on. he gets it out of the kitchen cabinet and just lays it out on the bed, staring at the silk and lace and just running his hands up and down it over and over.

but once he finally strips down and slips it on, it feels better on his skin than he ever could've imagined.

(full disclosure in my head i'm picturing maybe like a silk dress with lace detailing that looks like it could either be something worn on a night out or tbqh something to sleep in lol the 90s were weird)

the problem is once it's on, he doesn't want to take it off. he spends so long looking at himself in the mirror and touching himself all over that he totally loses track of time and suddenly, the boys are coming home.

he tries hiding in the bathroom but there's no way he's going to be able to put the dress back in its hiding place now that they're all home again. and once they discover that Reggie's locked himself in the bathroom, all three of them are at the door asking him to come out with worried voices and promises to help him through whatever happened while they were gone.

Reggie feels awful. he never meant to worry them but he can't go out there in the dress, he can't! eventually the boys start getting more frantic because Reggie's still refusing to open the door and so Luke starts talking about breaking it down (even though both Alex and Bobby are telling him absolutely fucking not) and finally Reggie just relents and says that he'll open the door if they promise not to laugh.

of course they all promise (and there's a few mutters of why would we laugh what the hell is going on) and after another few minutes of paralyzing fear, Reggie opens the door. all three stare at him with open mouths and Reggie blushes so much his whole body is red underneath the dress.

but they keep their promise. not a single one of them laughs. they're all too busy thinking about how good Reggie looks in the dress. Bobby's the first to speak, and all that comes out is "holy shit".

Reggie, of course, is totally embarrassed and rambles his way through an explanation that completely goes over the heads of the other three because they're still just caught up in looking at him so they barely even hear a word he says. when he finishes, his voice has gotten so hysterical that he shrieks a little bit and that sound finally breaks Alex out of his stupor and he realizes that Reggie's got tears in his eyes.

"Reg," he says in a soft, reverent voice, "you look incredible."

of course, Reggie thinks he's hearing things. he can't believe that they'd actually like him like this. he sniffles and shakes his head, thinking they're just trying to placate him and pretend like this isn't totally crazy, but then they all bundle him up in a hug and both Luke and Bobby join with Alex in telling him how good he looks and how badly they wanna touch him right now.

it inevitably ends with the four of them having sex and trying very very hard not to ruin Reggie's pretty dress, but this has already gone on SO LONG omg thank u for indulging me 😅💛

#answered #Anonymous #polycurve #fic ideas #REGGIE IN PRETTY THINGS 2KFOREVER

8 notes · View notes

evanthenerd83 · 3 years

Text

“Holly And The Demon Visit The Mall”

“Do you feel me,” asked Holly.

The demon nodded, then looked away sheepishly. “I… I guess.”

She smiled. Teeth nearly blinded It. Nearly, because the demon was used to far too much light.

Hell had several suns.

It was always summer, too.

Holly jumped off the hood of the cop car. “Good.”

She still wore her school uniform. The skirt danced about, revealing pale legs and torn stockings.

And thighs. Just the bottoms. But just the bottoms were enough.

A sudden chill sent the demon glancing every which way—at a discarded soda can, a stained napkin, a used condom. It knew that Its cheeks were blue.

Thankfully, Holly didn’t seem to notice. She never noticed.

She skipped around the cop car. Towards the back. Her hand tapped, tapped, tapped on the trunk.

She had nimble fingers. Small hands and nimble fingers.

Fingers that traced the handprint, which was beginning to dry. It was no longer bright red. It looked more brown, brownish black.

The demon felt like gagging.

“You’re… you’re—“

“Absolutely adorable?”

Holly opened the trunk. Her face disappeared.

The demon nearly gagged.

“No. Yes. Kind of?”

A sharp giggle, girly, cut through the night. It was sweet. It was also poisonous.

The demon felt needle-hairs rising to attention. It wrapped Its arms around Itself, and one of Its horns shrunk. The other wobbled a bit.

“Aw, thank you.”

The demon watched the trunk.

It could hear her rummaging around, shoving things. The cop car started to bounce.

The demon held Its breath.

It glanced at the mall.

Lights were still on inside. The parking lot was just barely empty. A few cars sat in sporadic spots.

People were still there.

People.

Men. Women. Children.

An image flashed through the demon’s mind, vivid and sensory. An image so horrible— and so horribly detailed—that it gagged.

It stumbled.

It leaned against the cop car with one clawed hand.

The night spun.

At that moment, Holly slammed the trunk. The sound carried. Nobody seemed to notice.

She was carrying something. The demon could tell. It was obvious from how she was walking. She was also grunting.

The demon screwed Its eyes shut.

‘Please be a hammer. Please be a hammer. Please be a hammer.’

It wasn’t exactly praying. Not entirely.

If a demon prayed, it only prayed to one being. And that being definitely wasn’t a God.

Not an all-loving God, anyway.

Not even a God.

It was a being that barely answered its worshippers’ prayers.

And if it did, it did so with ulterior motives. It only wanted to entertain itself.

The demon was mostly begging. It was begging to the other being, the one opposite—an all-loving God.

Its sworn enemy.

Holly came around the side of the cop car. Her footsteps echoed, a tap-dance routine. They abruptly stopped.

The demon saw her black shoes in the corner of Its eyes.

They shined.

“Whatcha doing?”

‘PleasebeahammerPleasebeahammerPleasebeahammerPleasebea— Oh. Crap.’

The demon gasped. It had glanced up at Holly, slowly, hesitantly. It had just seen what she was carrying.

The thing she had resting against her shoulder.

“No.”

Holly blew a bubble.

Her gum popped.

She resumed chewing it.

“Yes.”

Holly spun around, then started walking towards the mall.

The hammer was big, very big. Practically a sledgehammer. It bounced with each step.

It must have weighed a ton. A hundred tons. Holly didn’t seem to notice, however. She moved just as fast as ever.

The demon stumbled to Its hooves.

It chased after her, tail swinging, striking the pavement. A fear pounded its way through Its chest.

“No. No. No. You can’t.”

It caught up with the girl.

Holly ignored It.

She kept chewing her bubblegum. She had her free hand stuffed inside a pocket, and one of her shoes was untied.

The laces flipped and flopped.

The demon growled, then jumped in front of her. It spread out Its arms. It also shook Its head.

Holly froze.

“No. No, Holly. Not again.”

Holly just stared at It. Her green eyes gleamed. They glimmered like diamonds.

The demon wasn’t sure if this was from the moonlight, the lights in the mall, or something different altogether. Maybe a little bit of both.

Maybe it was her soul again.

Her damned soul.

Holly tilted her head. A curl of blond hair came loose, falling over her left shoulder. It looked cute.

She looked cute.

Wait. What?

The demon blushed again. It looked away from her.

“Why not? We had fun last time, right?”

The demon felt tears forming. They burned.

But It took a deep breath, and It shook Its head again.

“No. You had fun. I was—“

“Hiding in the shadows. And pools of blood. Like a little bitch.”

The demon gaped.

Before everything, all of this mess, Holly had never sworn. Ever.

In the sixteen years of her life, It had never caught her swearing. Not even when her little brother accidentally killed—well, semi-accidentally killed—her pet goldfish.

Or when her crush had stood her up at the Valentine’s Day dance. Nor when she had found him behind the cafeteria, sticking a finger up Jenny Mackindale.

Or when her parents had sent her to the shrink.

Or—

The demon grabbed both of her shoulders. It looked deeply into her eyes.

“Why?! Why are you doing this, Holly?! Huh?!”

Holly just blinked.

She chewed her gum.

“You never spoke like this before… be-before…”

Holly blew another bubble. Like before, it burst.

“Before you showed up?”

The demon blinked a few times.

Yes.

Yes, she was right.

Before It had shown up, appeared in the middle of her dorm, Holly had been a simple girl. A good girl.

Not necessarily a good student. But nobody really was a good student if they went to a catholic school.

The demon knew.

Everyone sinned.

The young. The old. The middle-aged.

Even newborn babies sinned. It was only natural. Humanity was a terrible species, violent and horny and very, very, very selfish, and it was normal for them to seek their own satisfaction.

But Holly…

… Holly was different.

She hadn’t sinned. Ever.

Like her mouth, she had been pure. Unpolluted. She was actually a good person; helpful, forgiving, considerate, respectful.

But now.

Now.

Holly pushed It, passing by. The demon rocked on Its heels for a second. It managed to stabilize Itself.

But by then, it was already too late.

Holly was already entering the mall.

“I don’t understand why—“

“You don’t understand anything.”

They were power walking, side by side.

The demon swiped a claw across Its forehead. Pain rose up Its arm. Sweat peppered Its rippled, scaly skin.

Everything that came out of the demon—be it tears or sweat or pee—was acidic beyond all measure.

It had ruined way too many toilets.

No wonder they’d been jumping from motel to motel.

“Hold on,” Holly plucked out her gum. She pinched a pink blob between her fingers.

The demon froze. “What?”

Holly peered back.

She winked.

She swung by a trash can. Said trash can had been positioned behind a rather imposing pillar. Said pillar, gray and very, very close to falling apart, was standing in the middle of the lobby.

The lobby. That wasn’t the right word… was it?

The demon didn’t really know all that much about the living world. It knew enough to get by. How else could It have survived this long?

It had a vague understanding of malls. These large, maze-like complexes bristled with self-indulgence and self-flagellation. Not to mention… capitalism.

So much capitalism.

It knew that humans, driven by their need for material objects, went from shop to shop, wallets filled with money. They bought things. The mere variety of things sent a numbing shock through the demon’s mind.

Books.

Clothes (especially those with more than one fabric).

Jewelry.

Shoes.

Blow-up dolls.

Dildos.

Cold suddenly flooded Its cheeks, and the demon covered Its face with both hands.

It took deep breaths.

“Hey. You okay?”

Her voice made It jump.

The demon also yelped. A hand was suddenly slapped over Its mouth, and Holly glared at It.

She lifted a single finger to her lips.

The demon went quiet. It might not have known much about humanity, but It did understand the gesture.

Be quiet.

Holly pulled It behind the pillar.

She backed up, pressing her back into the pillar. She had It cradled. She was hugging It.

“Hope you weren’t too loud,” Holly peered.

The demon went rigid.

It could taste metal. No, not metal.

‘Blood,’ It realized. “I’m tasting the blood on her hands. Oh, Christ, oh lord, oh my Go—‘

Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Something soft and plump, but not too plump, touched the demon’s spine.

No. Not just something. Some things.

Things that, from Its calculations, were situated on her chest…

‘Tits.’

She let go, and the demon fell to Its knees.

The floor was colder than her hands. Discarded receipts fluttered by. A broken watch gleamed, and It impulsively glanced up.

Holly grabbed her sledgehammer. She’d laid it down while throwing her gum away.

She spun around. For Its credit, the demon tried to avoid the whiteness—flesh, fabric, didn’t really matter—that suddenly flashed across Its field of vision. It did try.

A glare pinned It down. A frown as well.

“H-Holly—“

That gesture again.

Holly tilted her head. She indicated the side of the pillar.

The demon shuffled on Its hands and knees, peering around. It felt like a soldier crawling through a trench.

Was there a sniper waiting for It?

If It exposed Itself, would a bullet go flying? Or would someone scream, causing others to scream?

Scream and scram?

The demon would have giggled.

It exposed a single eye, iris deep crimson.

It saw what she’d been checking out.

The food court, across the lobby, was closed. Many of the restaurants had their lights off. Sandwich Queen. McRonald’s. Burrito-ville.

Only a few still ran. A Lamby’s was being tended to, the cashier Holly’s age. The cook kept looking back at her.

But that wasn’t all.

Because It then saw… them.

Them.

“Do you see?”

The demon didn’t respond.

It shook Its head, slowly at first. It quickened. An icy dread flooded Its empty lungs.

Holly gripped the sledgehammer tighter. Her knuckles turned white.

It knew that she was licking her lips. It could feel the bloodlust wafting off of her, thick and musky.

And what Holly was feeling was bloodlust. Blood. Lust. The demon heard her breathing heavily.

“Do… Do you see?”

The demon gulped.

It could see. It could see plenty.

They were just sitting there, all of them at one table. One—a girl—was busy with her cellular device. Another—a boy—had his arms draped around the girl’s shoulder.

Yet another tipped his chair backwards. A different girl sat in his lap, face twisted in mock horror.

She was giggling.

A third boy stared at a third girl. A goth girl, the demon realized.

A goth girl with her hand underneath their table, shoved down his pants—

“Holly.”

Holly was silent now.

It scooted back, then stood up. It put both claws on her shoulders. It stared deep into her eyes, searching for something, anything, a shred of the girl she had been.

All It found was excitement.

“Holly,” It whimpered. “Holly, no.”

Holly was no longer listening, though.

She was now tossing her sledgehammer—such a big sledgehammer, where’d she even find it—from hand to hand. She muttered to herself.

“No. Not like this.”

Left hand.

“No. Not that either.”

Right hand.

The demon shook her. It was sweating acid-bullets now.

“Holly? H-Holly, please don’t. Just leave them alone.”

Above.

“Maybe it should be higher? No. Not that high.”

Below.

“At my midsection?”

The demon gripped her shoulders tighter, and It felt Its nails digging into the flesh. It loosened Its grip.

“Holly. Holly, let’s just… let’s just go back to the motel. We can… we can order room service… or something.”

It was desperate now.

It was close to tears now.

But Holly didn’t notice. She had finally found a position that she liked. The sledgehammer was tilted, horizontal, and her left hand gripped the handle, the knuckles turning blue.

“Hey! Re-remember that s-story I refused to t-t-te-tell? About those b-b-b-bl-blo-blood or-or-orgies? I… I’ll tell them now. I’ll tell you everything. Just please, just please, don’t go hurting those nice peo—“

Holly ducked out of Its grip.

She then began to run.

…

The teenagers didn’t know what hit them.

Well, that wasn’t true. They saw her running towards their table. How could they have not?

She was wearing a school girl’s uniform. A light brown vest over a white button-down shirt, her collar undone. Her skirt revealed legs that wouldn’t have quit.

And they didn’t quit. They carried her all the way to their table.

Marcy saw the school emblem—a cross.

She was sitting in the right position. She looked up from her phone just long enough to see it.

And to catch the blunt side of the sledgehammer.

Tony managed to stand up and clench his fists. The words were at the tip of his tongue; those three, simple, universal words.

What. The. #$@&.

But before he could open his mouth, the girl swung her sledgehammer.

Everything cut to black.

Samantha instinctively clenched her own fist, and Marcus suddenly reached the finish line. He screamed her name. It sounded like a goat baying.

Something warm filled her hand.

Something else that was warm soon filled his pants.

She tried to pull out. She tried. But before she could, a shoe hit her chest, and Samantha fell backwards.

Marcus went with her. He had a funny look.

That funny look disappeared underneath the sledgehammer.

Samantha opened her mouth to scream.

Something filled her mouth. Another shoe. It was shoved hard, and pressure started to build. A cracking sound from somewhere inside her own head. The pressure gave way to brief, potent pain.

One last, loud crack.

Her lower jaw came loose. It practically dangled, swinging from side to side.

The sledgehammer then found her.

Silence. Dark.

And the warmth coating her hand faded away.

The girl stood over her, chest heaving, cheeks flustered. A strand of blonde hair was plastered to her forehead.

Her eyes gleamed. But they didn’t gleam like emerald diamonds. They gleamed like glass.

She heard their chairs scraping the floor.

She spun around.

The empty chair kept on spinning.

…

#holly and the demon #evanthenerd83's storytime #short story #dark comedy #sci fi & fantasy #crime fiction #horror comedy #creative writing #original writing #july 2021

15 notes · View notes