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dreaming-medium · 4 months

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Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale.

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body.

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same.

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally.

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on.

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off.

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this!

If you pass.

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face.

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat.

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his.

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes.

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use.

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission.

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination.

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you.

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face.

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock.

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can.

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill.

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction.

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat.

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon.

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close.

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own.

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym.

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table.

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top.

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket.

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair.

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest.

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.”

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers.

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector.

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top.

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that.

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job.

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you.

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them.

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are.

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch.

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your eyes snap to him and you nod.

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard.

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined.

“Yes.”

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper.

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick.

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank.

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth.

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl.

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick.

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile.

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper.

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick.

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips.

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation.

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance.

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’”

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…”

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill?

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end.

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves.

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you.

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper.

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you.

Sheepishly, you look away from him.

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest.

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste.

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks.

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue.

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him.

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were.

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard.

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either.

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye.

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you.

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it.

It’s weirdly comforting.

It doesn’t feel weird at all.

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens.

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

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Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time.

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to.

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted.

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond.

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others.

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all.

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you.

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went.

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here.

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly.

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground.

The others trickled in afterwards.

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face.

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others.

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench.

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet.

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it.

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere.

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer.

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger.

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment.

It should bother you.

But it doesn’t.

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it.

But you would never tell him that.

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you.

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects.

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually.

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans.

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table.

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp.

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that.

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that.

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked.

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie.

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture.

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning.

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines.

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you.

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face.

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself.

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B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free.

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table.

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there.

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside.

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in.

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office.

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples.

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore.

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you.

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants.

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss.

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk.

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not.

Instead, you focus on your job.

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars.

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada.

“When and where was this taken?” you ask.

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan.

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow.

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional.

That’s for after the debrief.

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind.

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap.

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse.

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly.

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you.

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time.

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

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

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago.

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair.

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language.

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance.

Killing targets? Easy!

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done!

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple.

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to.

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves.

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below.

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk.

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit.

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach.

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees.

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky.

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.”

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones.

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head.

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day.

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around.

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him.

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers.

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement.

“What?” you ask.

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast.

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder.

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him.

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

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

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in.

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room.

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice.

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room.

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway.

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table.

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body.

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind.

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

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side.

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you.

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin.

You blend right in to everyone around you.

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour.

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold.

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge.

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman.

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes.

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino.

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally.

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino.

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him.

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him.

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting.

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low.

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering.

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl.

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle.

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes.

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie.

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin.

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath.

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis.

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap.

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor.

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

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head.

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room.

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear.

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth.

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum.

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?”

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker.

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice.

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in.

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

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down.

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath.

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes.

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over.

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door.

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear.

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him.

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise.

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear.

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle.

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly.

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder.

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs.

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot.

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum.

Oh my god, no, fuck, please.

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings.

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded.

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it.

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately.

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer.

“My room is up here, honey.”

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away.

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground.

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner.

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh.

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head.

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn.

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too.

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly.

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you.

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out.

Your heart drops.

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room.

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe.

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly.

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled.

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon?

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second.

You pull your own trigger.

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head.

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors.

Empty.

It’s empty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear.

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic.

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room?

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses.

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open.

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained.

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle.

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing.

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap.

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice.

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more.

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth.

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot?

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help.

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock.

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead.

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert.

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps.

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders.

He’s okay.

Jisung is okay.

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified.

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling.

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh?

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction.

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists.

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow.

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet.

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie.

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back.

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more.

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand.

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed.

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again.

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed.

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them.

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung.

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes.

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad.

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips.

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more.

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him.

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck.

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat.

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane.

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin.

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline.

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad.

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it.

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats.

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips.

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent.

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath.

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up.

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words.

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent.

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes.

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.”

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty?

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly.

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground.

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one.

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs.

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing.

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously.

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air.

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite.

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet.

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere.

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed.

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed.

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs.

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt.

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out.

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more.

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again.

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours.

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce.

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits.

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts.

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

He groans and falls into your chest.

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity.

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another.

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair.

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not.

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

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

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer.

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han smut #han jisung x you #han x you #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids kinktober

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tastesousweet · 25 days

Text

⭒ blurb : “if a girl walks up to you …”

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : headcannon/blurb based on the tiktok trend “if a girl walks up to you and flirts what are you doing?”

mickey speaks : randomly had this thought tdy & hamzah has been on my mind lately soooo this one’s for my slushy girls 💐 PRETTY FLUFFY (but i hope it’s not like … cringy instead of cute)

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

you’re both fully in pajamas, tucked and wrapped in each other’s arms when you come across the tiktok trend that has flooded your for you page as of late

hamzah’s naturally aloof (due to a long day spent with you and it currently being almost 1 AM) and unfocused as he fights sleep while watching his tenth episode of teen titans.

so when you quickly unravel yourself from him and move across the room, adjusting your low hanging sweatpants accordingly, he’s dumbfounded and asking you what you’re doing and why you’re leaving him.

“you’re so dramatic, can you come here? i wanna do something”

“insulting me and asking a favor in the same sentence…” he sighs then pauses with a hand closed over his mouth, muffling “wow.”

literally and metaphorically tugging his arm to get him to participate but he’s adamant on knowing what exactly he’s getting up for

when he’s almost out of bed you tell him it’s “this tiktok thing” and he exaggerates a “NOOOO” and releases all of his weight so that he falls back on the bed and you practically fall with him due to your connected hands

of course he’s eventually convinced with a few kisses

hamzah fiddles with your hand while listening to you explain: “okay, pretend im not here and some girl comes up to you at target.”

he just stands in the center of the frame looking around the room as you walk away then return in character

you approach obnoxiously and begin some surface level flirting “hey good looking”

“you can back up a little bit,” he looks you up and down

“pause- did you just check her out???”

“no? you know there was definitely some judgement there.”

“sure ok, resume… now.” you play with your hair, “what’s someone as cute as you doing in a place like this?”

“bruh, we’re at a target” hamzah laughs through his words

you stop your role again, “and why are you taking time to respond to her?!”

“oh kill me for being distracted! you couldn’t have hired an ugly actress?”

you look up at him with squinted eyes, “you need to learn to resist the hot girls too!”

“i’m tryingggg!!!!” he rubs his eye harshly, “restart, restart.”

it cuts to a clip of you two acting once more

“yeah, we both loooveee target we’re, like, so alike,” you go to grab his arm and he turns completely away from you

“ok, and i have a girlfriend” he pretends to grab something off of a shelf

“that doesn’t matter if i don’t see her…”

you continue pestering so he resorts to plugging his ears with his fingers and talking over you, repeating that he has a girlfriend

eventually he turns back to face you and yells “OH MY GOD GIRL, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!!!!” right into your smiley face.

he then fully manhandles you over his shoulder and spins you around before dropping you onto the plushness of your shared bed

he doesn’t even look to check on you (you’re outrageously laughing and yelling “it hurts!” in regards to your poor stomach cramping)

he runs to grab your phone from the desk while recording himself in faux panic, “guys, you can’t tell y/n i just beat up a woman please, please, pl- AHHH”

he and the video are cut off by you jumping on his back and attacking his cheek with kisses through your loud giggles.

you cuddle in bed again after turning off the lights and hamzah rewatches it for a third time since you’ve posted it to your spam account (everytime it’s over he says, “no, that was actually pretty funny.”)

by the morning it has thousands of likes and plenty of comments either full of love for the two of you together or calling hamzah the funniest man in the world (they’re just like u fr!)

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #slushynoobz #slushy noobz #slushy virus #thatmartinkid #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefantastic fanfic

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bloodykora · 8 months

Note

Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.

Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.

(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)

This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.

- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.

- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints

- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship

- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."

- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage

- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.

- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"

- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.

- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.

- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.

- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.

- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.

- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.

- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.

- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.

- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)

- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.

- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.

- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.

-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.

- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."

- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.

- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.

- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy live action #i would love to braid his hair

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sspookyspoonss · 5 months

Text

I know nothing about Doctor Who except what friends occasionally excitedly tell me. I am also bored. Here is an undoubtably factual explanation of each of the ‘new?’ Doctors:

Doctor…. Who??????:

I know nothing about this guy. Nobody I know talks about Christopher Eccleston nor have I caught wind of any internet discussion. My conclusion is there is a conspiracy to not talk about him for no reason other than the fandom got bored and thought it would be funny. I think this Doctor would like to go to football matches and would get very upset if the team he likes doesn’t win. You would probably randomly meet him at a pub and would have a nice chat with him, however, he’d take you back to the Tardis and you would most likely die via Dalek plunger (a thing I am informed they can kill you with). I also think he would like watching reality TV, he gives of that vibe.

Tumblr Doctor:

The internet likes this guy. David Tennant is cool, so I understand. I think this is ‘wibbly wobbly timey wimey’ guy so I am inclined to think that he also says things like ‘milkys’ and ‘dindins’ to his friends. Even if he is not ‘timey wimey’ guy I still think he still would say ‘milkys’ and the like, gives off that vibe.

He has some angst to do with a woman. I’m not sure why but I’m guessing it’s to do with Thomas Edison. The Doctor knows he stole most of his inventions because he can time travel and saw it happen, not stopping him is one of the Doctor’s greatest failures, however, his lady friend is a victim of the British Education system and thinks otherwise. They break up over it, angst ensues, Thomas Edison has ruined someone else’s life even after he’s dead.

‘I don’t like this guy’ Doctor:

I do not like this Doctor, worst one. Nothing against Matt Smith or his performance, I’m sure it was brilliant, I’ve seen that Van Gough clip and it made me cry 10/10. More importantly than that however, my supposed childhood best friend who was actually just bullying and manipulating me said he was her favourite so I look at him and remember I wasted my childhood with her. He can make it up to me if he time travels and gets child me a better friend. Then he will be the best Doctor.

He or Tumblr Doctor has a wife????? I think???? I’m not sure but which one it is but because of my bias I’m saying it’s this guy. I know it’s dodgy because of time travel so he needs to go to space jail (or as Tumblr Doctor probably calls it, the ‘Naughty Step’). I’m assuming they also have a child, making every reincarnation of the Doctor from here on out a deadbeat who needs to pay A LOT of child support. That is why he regenerated, so he could avoid paying it, ‘Court can’t prove I’m the Dad if I don’t have his face.’ Arsehole.

Screwdriver scandal TM Doctor:

He looks like a nice guy. This Doctor would sit you down and give you a therapy session after you nearly get killed by a Weeping Angel. I would like having a talk with him, it would be nice. I feel like he is the most well adjusted Doctor, although that could just be Peter Capaldi’s immaculate vibes. This Doctor pays his taxes. He doesn’t like Paddington Bear for some reason. Due to his well adjustedness, I am lead to believe the twist in Paddington 3 is that Paddington is The Master (who I think is a villain) and will go on a rampage across London, turning people into Marmalade. It will be up to the Doctor and the family I’ve forgotten the name of, to stop him. This would also provide an explanation for why the Mum’s actor has changed, to fix Paddingtons mess they had to time travel which led to the Dad marrying a different woman.

He threw away the Sonic Screwdriver apparently. Previously mentioned childhood best friend complained to no end about it to me. Knowing fanbases other people were also likely very upset, I’m guessing it felt like it did to me when Luke Skywalker chucked his lightsaber over his shoulder in The Last Jedi. I also think Screwdrivergate is a tragedy because they didn’t take the opportunity to replace the Screwdriver with another, even sillier, Sonic _______. I suggest either a Sonic Scented Candle or a Sonic Keyring. Alas, it was not to be.

‘WOMAN AAAAAAAAAAAAA’ Doctor:

People don’t like her because woman. People also don’t like her because of bad writing. Last time I checked, neither of these are Jodie Whittaker’s fault. I don’t have much to say about her except my new, (actually great this time) friend who likes Doctor Who has an emotional reaction every time she is brought up. Genuine sadness and disappointment in my friends eyes. I suggest that this means this is a fantastic Doctor, to the point it is art. A sign of good art is something that garners a strong emotional reaction. Despair at the state of the franchise and societies misogyny may not have been the intention, but a strong reaction is incurred nonetheless, so success, this is art now.

‘Guess Who’s back!’ Doctor:

Erm, not sure how in canon this works but David Tennant seems to be having a nice time so it’s good. The alternative name for this Doctor is ‘Production Budget Doctor’ because from the ends of episodes I’ve seen (I watch Strictly Come Dancing because ooo pretty dresses and it’s on after) the Tardis looks very fancy and like it’s from a big budget film. Coffee also got spilled on it which is funny because it messed the Tardis up, meaning not even the technology of a near God can withstand dumbass humans with liquids. Hilarious. Also, an apt metaphor for many things.

In conclusion: I’m sorry for any brain damage caused to the good members of the Doctor Who fanbase who read this. Have a nice day.

#apologies #doctor who #bbc #david tennant #matt smith #jodie whittaker #peter capaldi #christopher eccleston #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor

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rozcdust · 1 year

Text

The little princess

Pairing: Haitani brothers x younger sister reader

Genre: Fluff, crack

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Canon divergent, ooc, profanity, Shion is a fucking moron, teaching kids swearing, if you’re one of those people who thinks platonic affection between siblings is weird please go away

pt. 1

Shion was only a tad bit salty that he was the only Tenjiku member to never be allowed to be left alone with you - with the exception of Hanma and Kisaki, Ran banned that in a heartbeat.

It’s not like you’d spontaneously combust and die on the spot under his watch, and come to think of it, he wasn’t even allowed to pick you up or throw you in the air as Mochi and Mucho did, Izana banned him from that personally, under the guise of, and, this is, in fact, the direct quote from the King himself:

“Madarame, you were born next to a nuclear power plant, got an IQ of 2 and got hit in the head with several rocks as a child. How do you expect us not to think you’ll kill y/n purely on accident?”

As if it was his fault the doctor dropped on the head upon birth.

At least you seemed fascinated by his tattoos, so he had that going on.

He huffed, not even noticing that Rindou, who was probably babysitting Shion more than he was babysitting you, excused himself to the bathroom, figuring leaving you alone with Shion for 3 minutes, tops, won’t hurt anyone if Ran and Izana don’t find out.

Oh, how wrong he was.

“Mr. Shion, why do you look mad?” You toddled up next to him, looking up in curiosity.

“Your brothers never wanna leave you with me alone. Or let me do your hair, even if Hanma is allowed to do your hair, and Ran hates him.” He absentmindedly booped your nose, sighing.

“Oh. Why?”

“Well, Ran just has a bad feeling about Hanma, apparently-“

“No, Mr. Shion, why don’t brothers let you watch me?”

Shion huffed, annoyed, pulling on the edge of your coat to straighten it out.

He personally thought he’d make a great older brother.

“They probably think I’d accidentally kill you. Or teach you a bad word.”

“Bad word? What is that?”

“Words kids under 10 can’t say.”

“Why?”

“They’re bad words.”

“Like what?”

“Fuck, bitch, cunt, probably?”

You tilted your head in utter confusion, causing the bow Kakucho fixed to your hair earlier to slip.

“Fuck? What does that mean?”

Shion knew, at that moment, that he fucked up.

“Don’t say that word!” Panicked, he glanced around, sighing in relief when no one else was around to hear you speak profanity.

“Fuck? Why?”

“No- Kiddo, you just can’t, wait until you’re older.”

“Is fuck like tattoos? Rinnie said I can’t get those until I’m older as well!”

“Please stop saying that word-“

You suddenly perked up, looking behind Shion with a grin.

“Ran!” Giggling, you sprinted past Shion to attach yourself to Ran’s leg, nuzzling your face into his thigh.

“Hi princess.” Ran gently fixed the bow on your head, offering you a small pat on the back.

Shion gulped, a sheepish smile on his face as he turned around to look at the eldest Haitani.

“Hi. Ran.”

Ran stood behind him with murder in his eyes and baton ready.

“Madarame.”

“You goin’ for a nap?” A small voice asked, the child’s head barely reaching the edge of his bed.

Ran smiled, turning to peer over the edge and into the face of the small girl, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Rindou took charge of her hair and clothes this morning, which meant she was wearing a frog onesie that was absolutely too big for her, almost swallowing her tiny frame, and sporting the single hairstyle Rindou ever really picked up, one that included two tiny braids on each side and an ungodly amount of butterfly clips.

Come to think of it, the hairstyle made her look a little like Ran when he was younger, and at this point, he had to wonder if Rindou did that on purpose.

“Yes, princess. Wanna nap too?”

Nodding fiercely, his younger sister gave a valiant attempt with trying to get up the bed on her own, but after a few failed tries where Ran merely looked on in amusement, she gave up, pouting and raising her hands towards him in a worldwide recognised motion for ‘Up!’

Slipping his hands underneath her armpits, he hoisted her up, much to her delight.

The one problem was, he continued holding her up, arm’s length away, grinning as she wrinkled her nose, pouting again, crossing her arms.

“Put me down?”

“No. You’re adorable when you get pouty.”

“Ran!”

He finally seated her on his lap, cooing as he kissed the top of her head. Carefully so as to not tug on her hair, he started removing the butterfly clips, setting them on his nightside table, to ensure they don’t break or tangle her hair during their nap.

“You’ll be a big girl soon, and big brother won’t be able to pick you up at all! So I wanna while I can.” Smiling softly, he pinched her cheek, softly ticking her neck in the process, making her squirm as she giggled, tryna push his hands away.

“That can’t be, Ran and Rinnie will always be able to pick me up.” Decisively nodding, she grinned up at him, “You’re both so tall and strong! I’m sure you’ll be able to pick me up in 10 years when you’re old and grey too!”

Tilting his head, Ran chuckled in amusement, finally removing the last clip before getting to unbraiding her braids.

“Baby, how old do you think Rindou and I are? We won’t be old nor grey in 10 years.”

“Oh,” Frowning in a way eerily similar to Rindou, the girl shook her head, “No, you’ll definitely be grey. You say I give you grey hairs whenever I wander off somewhere!”

“You know what, fair point.”

Finally finished with her hair, he ruffled it softly, giving her a peck on the forehead when she turned around to face him.

“We can sleep now?” Excitedly, she attempted to wrap her arms around his waist, but they proved to be too short for the task, much to her disappointment.

“Yes, princess, we can.” Finally laying down, y/n curled up on his chest, almost like a cat, warranting another chuckle out of the older man as he adjusted his arms to hold her, ensure she won’t fall.

Both of them were out like a light in mere seconds, not noticing Rindou calling out Ran’s name as he entered the room in search of his phone charger.

Quickly shutting up when he saw the sight, he chuckled, leaving to retrieve his polaroid camera, coming back to snap a quick shot of the two.

A soft smile made its way on his face as he watched it develop, showcasing Ran, more serene than he ever was awake, and y/n, her mouth slightly opened and hair tousled, her entire body gently moving up and down with each rise and fall of Ran’s chest, looking content and safe in her elder brother’s arms.

Leaving his glasses, the camera and the developed polaroid on Ran’s desk, Rindou cautiously crawled in under the covers, hoping to not disturb the two.

Ran, still asleep, extended his arm so it went over the side of the bed, opening a space for Rindou to settle in.

Rindou nestled up against Ran’s side, curling within himself as Ran unconsciously turned to his side, throwing an arm over both of his siblings as y/n slipped from his chest into the space between her brothers.

Rindou closed his eyes, relaxing his muscles, revelling in the comforting sound of Ran’s heartbeat and y/n’s even, steady breathing.

No matter what happens, his siblings will always feel like home.

“These look pretty.” Kokonoi commented, his fingers softly passing over the petals of a large bouquet displayed in the store.

Kakucho was merely a few feet away, curiously looking at ornaments.

“No, those aren’t the right flowers.” The small girl shook her head, nervously tapping her foot against the marble floor of the flower shop as she waits for a worker to come around, her hand extended to hold Kokonoi’s pinkie.

A worker finally appears, a smiling man with a pink apron and a neat ponytail.

He looks at Koko when he asks how may he help him, but you respond instead, politely saying ‘Excuse me?’ to draw his attention towards you.

“Hi, sweetie.” Smiling, the florist crouches down, clearly attempting hard to not coo at the small child sporting such a serious expression.

Kokonoi could understand, Ran has really outdone himself this morning when he dressed you up, braiding your hair into an intricate pattern resembling a halo, a purple heart-shaped clip, matching the colour of your frilly dress, holding back the few loose strands trying to escape.

You were cute enough to even coax out a smile from Mikey when he saw you this morning, politely asking him if he wanted some of your dorayaki.

“I’ll need two bouquets, please! One with purple orchids, and one with bluebells! Could you add a ‘Happy Father’s day’ card on both too, sir, pretty please?” Reciting as Kakucho and Kokonoi practised with you this morning, you looked up at Koko for approval.

He smiled, nodding.

“Why, aren’t you adorable? Are they for your daddies?” The florist got to work right away, grabbing flowers and snipping various ribbons as he started putting together the bouquets.

“No, my brothers!” Beaming, the girl was bouncing on the balls of her feet, excited whenever the worker asked her opinion about the colour of ribbons and glitter.

When you shyly asked Kokonoi a month ago, after he picked you up from school, if there were any chores for you to do so you could earn a little money, he was confused, after all, Ran and Rindou bought you everything you as much as laid your eyes on without a question, what could you possibly want that they didn’t want to buy you?

You shook your head, explaining that Father’s day is approaching, and when you said you wanted to surprise your brothers with bouquets, it took all of his self-restraint to not pull his wallet out of his pocket and empty out its content into your hands immediately, the idea so utterly adorable he agreed in a heartbeat.

He tried offering you to just give you the money, but you refused, polite as ever, shaking your small head and explaining how it had to be earned, after all, your brothers worked so hard and took such good care of you that it would be unfair to just accept a charity.

He agreed, and if the other Kanto Manji Gang executives saw you around with a tiny broom Kokonoi bought specifically for you (he feared the average sized one would fall on you and crush you), they didn’t question it, more often than not cooing when you refused any help instead.

Kokonoi offered you to name your price, and the comically small amount you chose was nowhere enough to actually pay for a bouquet, let alone two, but that wasn’t an issue, he’d shoulder the rest of the cost with no regrets.

The florist finished both bouquets after about ten minutes, and Kokonoi assumed you’d be bored by then, but you stood and waited, your impatience only showing by the way you started tugging on his coat, silently asking to be picked up.

Kakucho appeared just in time to pick you up instead, your small arm dutifully wrapping around his neck as he adjusted to support your weight and so you could still look at the florist, Kokonoi paid with the money you gave him earlier, and he allowed you to hold one of the bouquets, even if the comically large flower arrangement made it so you disappeared behind the vivid, soft flowers.

He picked up the other, and bidding the florist goodbye, they were on their way.

Kokonoi and Kakucho both secretly couldn’t wait for Ran’s and Rindou’s reactions.

“Hey, thanks for watching her, she really wanted to go with you two for some reason today-“ Ran opened the doors, looking as if he has just woken up, raising an eyebrow as he observed the two men standing in front of it, a lack of his younger sister obvious.

Ah, there you were, hiding behind Kakucho’s coat, small giggles escaping you as Koko and Kakucho both shielded you from Ran’s keen gaze.

“You should call Rindou.” Smiling softly, Kakucho took a step inside right after Kokonoi, closing the doors.

Still sceptical, Ran obliged, leaving briefly to drag his brother out of his room.

“What is it?” Impatiently, Rindou tapped his foot, his headphones halfway down his ears.

“Surprise.” Softly exclaiming in unison, Kakucho and Kokonoi parted, revealing you holding the two bouquets.

The bouquets were bigger than you, but you still insisted on being the one to hold them.

“Happy Father’s day!” Beaming, you took a clumsy step towards your brothers, holding out each of their respective bouquet towards them, “Thank you for taking care of me, and cuddling me when I have nightmares, and for never getting angry with me when I break something!”

Ran and Rindou kneeled down to be on eye level with you in sync, each of them taking the bouquet off your hands

“Thank you, sweetie.” Ran pulls you towards him to pepper kissed on your face, grinning wide with a soft expression.

“I bought orchids for you because your name means orchid! And Rinnie’s name means bluebell, so he got bluebells!”

Rindou does the same as soon as Ran lets you go, holding you in a firm hug.

“Thank you, princess.” Whispering, Rindou buries his face into your shoulder, the tiny space not doing much to actually hide it.

Ran’s soft smile turns into a shit-eating grin.

“Aw, Rin, you crying?”

“ShUT THE FUCK UP!”

You beamed.

“Fuck!”

“Y/N NO-“

🔖Taglist:

@dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @luvjiro @sanchezbloodline @thetruepair @a-toxic-person @astropheia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @jeagckerman @idktbhloley

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani x reader #bonten #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #rindou haitani #kokonoi hajime #manjiro sano #kanto manji gang

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venuscrashed · 4 months

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42 miles x femboy reader pls 🙏

this is low key kinda of bad also based of that one clip of Anthony Padilla and his girlfriend

word count: 563

warnings: ooc, soft 42!Miles

Another notification popped up on Miles' phone as he sat down on the rooftop. He had been texting you during his job as the prowler. He noticed that he never fully paid attention to his jobs anymore ever since you two had met. Of course, it’s not like he needs to since they all get done perfectly, but he can’t help but think of you. It’s quite impressive that he mastered texting and fighting at the same time, even his uncle is impressed.

Miles tapped on the notification to read your text.

OMW

Just got done shopping✧♡(◕‿◕✿)

Miles let out a chuckle with a smile on his face. He had told you to go get something nice with the money that he got. He would have gone with you but Aaron had called which forced him to miss it. He was hesitant at first to give you money, especially since you two only just started dating. Then he soon found out that you weren’t dating him for that reason, which made his stomach get butterflies, although he’ll never admit it.

Alright hurry up pretty boy

The door behind him opened up and steps could be heard walking towards him. He relaxed into the back hug that he knew you would only give him. He grabbed onto your hand that was wrapped around him and gave it a light kiss.

“Was that fast enough for you,” you asked while giving his cheek a quick kiss.

“You know it isn’t,” he joked. He turned to you and saw the bags that you were holding. “What you buy?”

His heart started to flutter once the smile on your face appeared. He couldn’t help but get flustered whenever you got happy or even looked at him. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a lip gloss tube. Or he thinks it’s lip gloss.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Some lip product.” You lightly slapped him on the arm. He laughed while you put a layer of the lip product on. He watched and admired the way your lips looked, staring at them with the desire to kiss it.

“It’s liquid lipstick.” You gave him a smile.

“Liquid? What's wrong with the other kind.” The dumbfounded expression would have made anyone laugh and laugh you did. He just gave you a clueless look as to why there are so many different types of lipsticks.

You laughed, “Nothing. The good thing about liquid lipstick is that it dries.”

He raised an eyebrow at the statement, unsure of what to make of it. “Of course it dries. It’s liquid.”

“It dries which means it kiss proof,” your hand was on the back of his head which pushed his face towards yours. You kissed him, which left him frozen. He felt you smile into the kiss and once you pulled back you could see the way his pupils had dilated.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

He sat there for a couple of seconds, trying to process what was happening. You were laughing but that was quickly stopped once he pulled you back in. He kissed you, making sure to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick. The kiss lasted until either of you could breath and even then he didn’t want to stop.

“Miles. Miles! You’re going to kill me,” you laughed

“Then I gladly die a happy man.”

#x male reader #x male y/n #x ftm reader #fem boy reader #prowler miles #miles x male reader #miles morales prowler #prowler miles morales x reader #prowler x reader #miles morales 42 x male reader #42 miles morales x male reader #earth 42 miles #miles morales 42 #venuscrashed

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dxckgrxsonx · 2 years

Note

I am in LOVE with your jason todd writing. You just write him so well 🥲

i have scoured the internet for thigh riding jason (because ya know hes KING of thunder thighs) and couldnt find a single one 😔

just thinking thots ab this mans meaty thighs and riding one

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 1.4k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Thigh Riding - Praise!Kink - Swearing - Dirty Talk. Notes - No thoughts, just Jason Todd and his thick ass thighs. I’ve been wanting to write thigh riding for a while now so thanks my darling anon!! I hope you enjoy 😉

You’ve got that look in your eye again.

That one you get just before you say something that takes him to pieces–a teasing glint that flashes white hot at your pupil and spreads out like goddamn wildfire. You get a faint quirk at the edges of your mouth, a slight tug of a smirk on your lips and the sight of you, glittering and halfway to electric never fails to make his stomach drop straight through to his feet.

You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, watching attentively as he gears up for patrol. That no good look still flashes in your eye, but you manage to do a decent job of keeping it off your face–if Jason didn’t know you as well as he did, he wouldn’t know you’re about to suggest something obscene, something outlandish.

“Jason,” You almost purr, making him pause, fingers hovering over the clips to his weapons holsters. Looking up, he catches your gaze across the kitchen and swallows thickly when you hold his stare–refusing to let it go until you’ve said what you want to. “My pretty boy–”

He can’t help it, his brain short-circuits at the praise, stutters and freezes in place.

You push off the counter with an amused huff, wicked mouth twitching into a threatening grin. There's a firm confidence to the way you walk, a predator stalking prey. He knows he looks like an idiot, a deer caught in blinding headlights, but he can’t deny that you look powerful–goddamn fucking beautiful.

He thinks he might catch fire when you touch him, press your palm to his heaving, armour covered chest and shove.

You don’t stop there, you keep going, force him to backpedal until the backs of his legs nudge the sofa. You smile, smoothing your palm from his broad chest upwards, sweep your nimble fingers over the thick, fluttering vein in his neck to settle heavy along his jawline.

“Jay,” You say again, leaning in close enough to ghost your lips over his chin. “Lemme ride your thigh.”

His breath hitches in his throat.

His cock jumps.

“Sweetheart,” He tries, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat. “Baby, please. I’ve got patrol, I don’t have time.”

Your hands press insistently into his shoulders, holding him down. Jason knows he could overpower you, already has three ways planned out on how to have you flat on your back in a few blinding seconds. It wouldn’t take much. He thinks of flexing his hips and throwing you off, having you spread out underneath him, legs parted so he can slot between them and ruin you.

Jason can be patient. Can bide his time. Wait for you to have your fun and enjoy the intoxicating thrill of being in control before it takes it away again.

But he can’t quite ignore the way he fattens up in his boxers, blood rushing to his cock and making it twitch, ache, fucking throb at the sight of you.

“But Jay, your thighs are so thick. I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” You drag the length of your pussy over his leg. He feels the heat coming off you through his tactical pants and he wants to moan. “You’re not going to deny me this, are you? I can see how hard you are.”

“Fucking shit!” Jason croaks, throwing his head back. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”

He wants to jerk off, wants to wrap his fist around his cock and pump it hard and fast until he empties his heavy, aching balls. He wants to wrestle you off his leg and bury himself in your slink cunt, maybe teach you a damn good lesson in the process.

Pressing your hips down you rock yourself over the hard muscle and reward him with a sweet little gasp as your clit catches on the fabric. It makes him feel dizzy, almost like he’s waking up with a concussion minus the blinding pain. Grabbing you by the hips he guides you over his thigh, flexing it just right as you pass over it, dragging another quiet sound from your mouth.

“D’that again.” You whimper, fingers tightening over his broad shoulders.

Jason watches as your composure shakes–dissolves right before his eyes. Something dark fights itself awake in his gut, blinks its eyes open and starts cataloguing all the ways to recover control, slip it from your clever fingers and choke you with it.

“Do what again?” Jason grins, looking up at you and cocking his head slightly. “This?”

Flexing his thigh as you drag your wet little clit over it your breath stutters, pupils blowing out with a violent wave of lust. Jason adores that look on your face, halfway to unhinged, neck deep in desperation. He loves it even more because he put it there.

“Y-yes.” You stutter, eyes rolling back into your skull.

Settling into an easy rhythm of back and forth you make sure to catch your swollen, sticky pussy on every dip and groove of his thigh. Jason tightens his grip on your waist, forcing you to rock against him harder, faster.

“Can’t believe you’re making me late for this.” Jason mutters, pressing his mouth along your jaw. “Makin’ me late because you want to rub your greedy pussy on my thigh.”

He listens to your heart skip, memorises the frantic beat so he can replay it later when you’re worn out and sleeping. Pressing wet kisses along the hinge of your jaw he smooths his hands around your back, sweeps the pads of his fingers over your spine.

“But Jay, please.” You whine, breathless, “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages, been thinking of riding your thigh for months. They’re so fuckin’ thick.”

Jason huffs into the crook of your neck, thrusting his thigh against your cunt, “Is that so?”

“Mmhm. S’not fair having to watch you strap on those holsters, it makes ‘em look so good. The amount of times I’ve wanted to bite them–” Your words taper off into a moan, mouth parted as Jason drags his teeth over your pulse point.

“Y’should have said something sooner, sweetheart. Could’a had you cumming over ‘em like a whore before now.”

He feels your steady motions falter, posture changing ever so slightly to allow you to focus on grinding your twitching little clit against his thigh. Jason knows you’re getting close, can sense your incoming orgasm almost as well as he can sense his own. Moaning desperately your legs shake, eyelids fluttering shut as you drag yourself up to the very edge.

“Fuckin’ christ, are you gonna come?” Jason asks, already knowing the answer. “Really? From this? From rubbing yourself on my thigh?”

“Uh–shit. Yes, m’gonna come.” You whine, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jay–fuck–I’m so close.”

He feels you trembling, throat working hard as you swallow and pant out whimpering whines of his name. He knows you’re a hair-trigger away from exploding, from gushing over his thigh and drenching his tactical pants. Jason knows he’ll need to change before leaving. He can’t go out with your come smeared across his thigh.

“Oh baby,” He coos against your throat, “Come for me. Be a good girl, soak my thigh.”

A silent shudder works through your body, starts at your legs and bleeds through to your fingers. Your voice shakes and cracks as you come, pussy contracting wildly against Jason's leg. Sucking a dark mark over your fluttering pulse Jason guides you through your climax, keeping the pressure on your pretty pussy until it stops twitching.

You move to pull away and swing yourself off his thigh. He knows you’re doing it to let him leave, but he’s not quite ready to let you go, still wants to prove that he’s the one in control of the situation. So Jason grabs your hips, keeps you pinned.

“I think you’ve got another in you.” He smiles, all dangerous and threatening at the edges. “M’not letting you move your wet cunt until you come again sweetheart, I’ve decided I quite like having you grinding yourself on my thigh, it’s a very pretty view.”

Your eyes widen and he sees it then, that quick flash of ‘oh fuck’ over your face. You’ve been wanting to ride his thigh for months, and Jason can’t be blamed for wanting to make up for lost time.

#jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut drabble #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x reader smut #red hood smut drabble #red hood smut #asks #answered #ella writes

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 7 months

Text

Request from @witheringpain - Could you make a headcanon of how all the autobots/decepticons would react if you died in a war (G1) ?

Will do 🫡🫡🫡

Sorry this is so late but I’ve got so much going on I’ve ended up going through my requests at a snails pace lol.

I haven't done transformers requests in 3-4 years so hello pls don't beat me up over this but here we go anyway:

Warnings: Character Death (Reader), Heavy Descriptions Of Gore And Violence, Themes Of Grieving And Depression

Autobots: (This is mostly Optimus-centred but I included most of the Autobots reactions because this first part was already too long to repeat for each separate character – I’ve also made it platonic)

Also PLEASE keep in mind that I’ve only seen short clips of G1, which is why I don’t write for them often, so the characters may seem a little OOC – if they are I apologise but it’s the best I could do

Ooooh boy, they’re not gonna like that

Let’s say you’re Optimus’s bestie (along with the other autobots ofc)

And let’s keep in mind that G1 Optimus is not as calm/ level headed as TFP Optimus and not as ‘death/kill/angry/rage’ as Bayverse Optimus

So he’s not gonna go round on the battle field murdering left right and centre

But he’s also not gonna just stand there

He’s more likely to turn towards the loud gunshot behind him and watch as your body hits the ground and take a moment

Like it’s not gonna click instantly

He probably thinks you’ve been shot in the leg and he waits a second for you to scream or writhe around in pain

But then your body lops to the side and he sees your eyes frozen wide in shock, with a gaping bullet hole still sizzling and steaming away in the middle of your forehead

And when I say it hits them all

It hits them

HARD

Optimus sort of just stumbles for a moment cuz he can feel every part of himself short-circuit

He also thought his audio receptors had stopped working

But no

It’s the battlefield

It’s dead silent

Everyone seems to have just stopped

He can’t see (cuz he literally cannot take his eyes off your body) but Prowl and Ratchet are nearest

And they’re desperate to run to him but the fact that he’s so still

Ratchet doesn’t dare go near you for a hot minute because it’s not normal for Optimus to be still for that long.

Prowl’s too busy trying to see who shot you, and eventually he spies the steaming barrel of the gun from across the field and he’s instantly seeing red

The decepticon that owns said gun doesn’t look any better

You can practically hear him from how much he’s shaking

Eventually, the dead silence is broken

“What did you do?”

It’s Megatron

He might be Optimus’s sworn enemy

But he knows when to not cross a line

As in murder Optimus’s closest friend

Megatron only murmured it since he was only frozen in place a few metres away

But it was loud enough to break whatever spell Optimus was under

Both decepticons watched in terror as Optimus’s head snapped towards them, his optics wide and glowing brighter than ever

And you know what’s even worse?

His face guard is gone

Sheathed away and full face on display

Now, let’s clarify that you, are the only person in the existence of ever, to know what he looks like under the mask

And the fact that everyone can see his full face right now shows exactly how out of control his emotions are right now

He’s heaving, he’s shaking, and there’s coolant streaming down his face because guess what cybertronians can cry

In his millions of years fighting wars, Megatron can’t recall a time he’s ever seen such despair on a bots face

Let alone on Optimus

The sounding of creaking metal brings everyone’s attention back on Optimus

And it takes a moment for everyone to realise where the noise is coming from but soon enough they watch as his servo tightens even more around his axe, the creaking noise becoming louder

And all of a sudden everyone’s like:

Oh shit

The decepticon that shot you is like

Shit shit shit shit

And Megatron accepts he’s gonna be a Con down after today because looking at the state that Prime is in he knows it’s not worth it

He looks to the Con who is pleading for help with his eyes and just shrugs

“I think you’re on your own now :)”

Megatron along with everyone else takes a step back as Optimus begins to move

He’s not running, no

Just walking

His optics not moving from the con in front of him as he strides over.

Eventually the con drops his gun with a cry and frantically runs into the woods behind him

But Optimus keeps his speed at walking pace

Which is even more terrifying

Megatron just moves aside raising his hands in surrender as he passes

Because a heaving, blank-faced, mask-less Optimus unconsciously dragging a weapon behind him is not something he wants to try and pester right now

Soon Optimus disappears into the woods after the Con

And everyone remains silent and unmoving as they listen

Pedesteps every now and again are heard from within the trees

Minutes pass and no one is yet to move, too occupied with straining their audials for a noise

Though it isn’t long until everyone flinches as a terrified shriek rips through the air, causing the birds to scatter

A string of frantic pleads of help follow

Until they are replaced with screams as loud clangs of metal on metal are heard

But soon the screams are drowned out by the clangs and soon enough the sounds of the Con are no more

But the clanging doesn’t stop

It just keeps going in a steady rhythm

Until one final loud smash reverberates through the air

And it is silent once again

Everyone else takes this as their cue

Megatron instantly transforms and takes off

And it isn’t long before the rest of the Decepticons follow, leaving the Autobots to themselves

The following silence is soon broken as Ratchet finally moves towards your body

Wiping the coolant that won’t seem to stop streaming down his face, he kneels down to scoop your lifeless form into his arms

Prowl drags himself over to you both, his pedes never feeling so heavy

With a dark solemn look on his faceplates, he stares at your corpse in the medics arms

After a moment, he slowly lifts his servo towards your face, where your face is still frozen in a terrified expression

And as gently as he can, he takes two digits and places them above your optic lids before sliding them closed

That seemed to be a tipping point for Ratchet as he broke down in heaving sobs

His frame trembling as he tried to keeps both himself and you balanced as everyone around looked at him in both surprise and pity

This is a first because Ratchet is probably the least likely to react so emotionally to death

He been witnessing it almost every day for the past few million years after all

But you were someone special

Someone he thought would be the last person to die so suddenly

Someone he thought he would have time to save, and time to grieve

But that’s what war does

It has no mercy with anyone

No matter who someone is and how special they are

And Ratchet thought he had come to terms with that idea

But the scene he gave showed everyone he hadn’t quite accepted it fully

Prowl wanted to break down too

He wanted to scream into the heavens and beyond, cursing out those who took you from them but also hoping you could hear him

A sign to show that you were still here with them

But he knew it would prove useless

And with Ratchet gone too far into his own mind

He knew it was his turn to be the level headed one

Now wasn’t the time to flip tables and punch walls

He didn’t want to show his emotional instability in front of the others

So he joined Ratchet by his side, a servo slowly soothing up and down the medic’s trembling back struts.

He noted that Optimus still hadn’t returned from the woods

But that wasn’t who he was concerned about at the moment

As if on cue, three sets of bouncing footsteps along with energised voices were heard as they got nearer

Everyone tensed at the sound, and slowly turned towards the outstretch of cliff nearby where the voices owners would soon be revealed

Prowl left Ratchet’s side after one last reassuring pat, leaving the now slightly calmer bot to cradle you

Turning the corner, he was met with two bright sets of yellow and one red

Bumblebee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had returned from their reconnaissance, playing and shoving at each other joyously after a seemingly successful mission, ready to hear what had become of the fight they missed

Though that all halted when they caught sight of a silent Prowl who was suspiciously not scolding them for returning so late

Coming to a stop, they eyed him, Sideswipe talking first:

“We just saw Megatron and his goons flying away! Did you flip enough tables to scare them off or something?”

That set the three of them into another fit of giggles

But coming to a stop again at the sight of Prowls door wings not springing up in frustration like they usually do

“Say Prowl, what’s got your tailpipe in a twist?” Sunstreaker piped up

Prowl opened his mouth, and got exactly one vowel out before going silent again. He did this several times before eventually giving up.

Ok this was different

Prowl always has something to reply with

“What happened.” Demanded Bumblebee

Despite being a joyous bot, Bumblebee knew when it was time to be serious, and Prowl being lost for words meant that only the worst could have happened

Prowl tried to reply again, but his voice box betrayed him for a second time

Without a second thought Bumblebee strode ahead, brushing aside Prowls outstretched servo and rounded the corner

At a first glance all he could see was every bot crowded around something, but when he called out they all parted to reveal something he wished he could never see

A pained cry of despair echoed throughout the forested valley, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker didn’t hesitate for a second as they sprinted around the corner to their friend with Prowl hot on their heels

The sight before them was the one thing they never wanted

Bumblebee was being held back as he tried to reach for whatever Ratchet had in his arms, howling and crying out as he stretched his arm as far as he could

The two bots rushed to try and help the others in restraining him, but both stumbled in shock as they caught sight of your lifeless corpse

Soon the bots had to be divided as they wrestled the three young bots that were wailing in anguish for their friend

Bumblebee had given up at this point, his head on Prowls shoulder as he stared at you with a glazed unmoving expression

The twins were worse off, crying and screaming in everyone’s faces until their voice boxes gave out, demanding what had happened and why they weren’t able to save you, why Ratchet wasn’t able to save you, but all the bots and the medic could do was look down to not make any further eye contact.

Not long after the screaming match another set of footsteps were heard getting nearer, and a hush fell over everyone, including the twins after pleas from the others, as they all stared at the silhouette emerging from the foliage

As the bot moved into the sunlight, everyone’s optics widened at the sight

Optimus had returned, but he was barely recognisable

Well

You could still tell it was him

But his paintjob was almost unidentifiable

Blue and red peeked through the streaks and smears of pink and magenta, the energon from the unlucky con splattered all over his frame

The worst parts were on his axe and up his arms, his paintjob covered almost entirely with energon still dripping from those areas along with chunks of metal that slowly slid down his frame, looking suspiciously similar to the con’s paintjob

The most horrifying part, though, was his axe

Which looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie

Through the energon and bits of metal that covered the blades, one half seemed to have bent, the blade curving in a way that would fit a cybertronians head shape after hitting it with the force of a mountain

Which is probably what happened

It’s also probably what made that extra load bang at the end

But no one really cared about that

They were too busy trying to figure out what Optimus would do next

Which was a bit difficult considering he was just standing there not saying a word and just staring ahead into the distance

A beat passed before shuffling was heard and Bumblebee broke away from Prowls embrace and rushed towards the Prime

Despite everyone wanting to stop him, they were too scared of going near Optimus at this point

Reaching Optimus, Bumblebee threw himself around him, not caring about the height difference

This seemed to bring Prime out of his trance, half lidded optics looking down at the smaller bot

Though it wasn’t long before Optimus gently pried Bumblebee’s servos away, holding them in his own

The bots watched albeit tense as the taller bot stared down at his smaller companion

All it took was for Bee to look up whilst blinking back tears of coolant for Optimus to drop his axe with a clang and scoop him into his arms, their helms buried into each other’s neck cables, and Bumblebee’s sobbing started up again

After a minute, they pulled away from each other, and Bee tried to say something through the hiccupping of his voice box, but the Prime stopped him with a servo on his shoulder and a small smile that was far from reaching his optics

Which everyone could see since he had yet to re-engage his mask

But they made sure not to bring it up

Soon Optimus was back on his pedes and picking up his axe, gently leading Bumblebee back to the group

Reaching Ratchet, he placed a servo on his shoulder

“Let’s get them back to the ship old friend."

Decepticons: (This one’s a bit shorter I’m afraid – I struggled with coming up with anything for anyone else so this is more headcanon-y)

Warnings: Character Death (AKA YOU), Heavy Descriptions of Gore, Themes of Grieving and Depression.

Now with the decepticons it can be a little different

Depending on what kind of relationship you’ve formed and with who

The Autobots are all tight knit in some way

Whereas with the cons

You could’ve been working with them for eons

But if you’re just another soldier that has been recruited

Then those higher up aren’t gonna bat an optic

They might notice your posts being replaced

But that’s it

However

If you’re higher ranking and have formed some type of relationship with them

Then things are going to go down differently

Soundwave would be inconsolable for a while

The only ones allowed near him were his minicons

Who would scuttle out his berthroom to grab some energon for their robodad, before quickly disappearing back into the dark room

He wouldn’t come out until Megatron demanded entry

And the minocons along with a few others would wait around the corner in the corridor

Tying to get within earshot but failing nonetheless

Megatron then walked out, not bothering with the troops who scattered as soon as he appeared

It would be another day before Soundwave would emerge

But he wouldn’t answer anyone about how he was

He simply got on with his tasks as he did before

Overworking so much that he would have to be dragged to recharge

Life would resume as normal

But during his weekly spying sessions through the security cameras

Starscream would note the pauses the quiet con would take

Each time in the exact same spot

Standing in front of the doors to the comms room where you had worked

Staring in as if he was looking for you to spring out on him

But you never did

Speaking of Starscream

It’s a bit of a 50/50 with him

You could be any rank

And considering how desperate he is to overthrow Megatron and lead the Decepticons

There’s a chance that he could be so obsessed and caught up in his scheming

That he just doesn’t have the spare time to get to know you or basically care about you in any way

But if we went with the other half

And you were someone he had befriended and roped into his overthrowing plans

Then your death would throw him off track big time

It would take him forever to comprehend the fact that the one con he could trust properly on his ship was in pieces that were now drifting somewhere through space

To the other cons he was just being himself after your death

So just annoying

Complaining how he now had to figure out how to achieve the tasks he had set you for universal dominance as well as his own

But the heaving sobs and wails that echoed through the ships corridors late at night said otherwise

Ravage made the unlucky mistake of walking in on Starscream as he curled up underneath his desk

Though not much time was spent inside as Ravage high tailed it out of there, narrowly dodging something being thrown as the seeker screamed for them to get out

Skywarp and Thundercracker had a hard time as well

Feeling the immense grief flowing through the bond of their trine mate’s spark as they watched him brush you off as just another accomplice in front of everyone else

Now

Onto boss man

Megatron would practically explode

He would be throwing himself into every battle and every autobot he can get his servos on

The one commander, apart from soundwave, he could trust with his life

Gone

In a puff of smoke

Well..

More like an explosion

AKA you were blasted to smithereens before he could pull you free from the collapsing power reactor

He would be frozen in place, your decapitated servo still grasped in his own

Bits of wiring and armour plating surrounding him on the floor

Along with the pink flames of your energon that had ignited as it hit the burning debris

He doesn’t quite remember what happened next

All he could recall were flashes of the bodies of other autobots as he tore them apart

And he found himself sat in the medbay, glaring unfocused at the metal floor

And now, in his berth room eons later, he still finds himself staring at the floor

Feeling as useless as the glass case that sat upon his shelf

Where a single servo laid, refusing to rust

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

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Thank you so much for reading! I will reopen requests at some point, but for now, I'll be posting what I've already written. See you soon!

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jacksprostate · 16 days

Text

Part 4 (with links to the other parts)

The first thing I do is, I talk to the man who takes my sheets, with his scrapdog ears and eyebrows, and I tell him: address him properly.

The word spreads on its own. I remember, before I was used to it, that knowing lilt. Sir. It’s still present. Take your pills, sir. It’ll be alright, sir. Take your time recovering.

Mills starts cursing at the staff. We pass in the halls, he yells at me, tells me to stop them. He’s not their fucking leader. Call off my dogs.

I smile, too wide. They’ve never listened to me, not really. Especially not on this.

I can’t help you.

Naturally, he hates this.

The second thing I do is, I ask for photographs. News clippings. Marla’s dildo was large, questionable, encouraging of disorder, and a choking hazard. Slips of paper are much more tolerable contraband. I’m given free rein, like one of Zimbardo’s incentivized guards. It’s a psychology experiment in a psychology experiment, and my psychiatrist is playing Jane Goodall.

It’s arts and crafts, and all the attendees are either bruised or braindead. There is no one stopping me. I glue all my collected pieces together into the rough shape of a heart, like it’s Valentine’s Day, and I turn to Mills, trapped at the back of the room. He hasn’t seen a shred of what I’m up to.

Something to remember her by, I say. I don’t call him sir, because I never have. I wonder if he knows this.

I see him look, more instinct than anything from getting layers of paper shoved in his face, and I see how he clenches his teeth so hard his jaw creaks. He rips the collage of his wife out of my hands, and I can tell, he hates me. Real hate, like he wants death to fuck my body until it’s not even for the worms.

He can’t bear to destroy it, and now I know every time he looks at it in his room, he’ll be thinking of me. Funny how that works.

The thing is; Mills actually didn’t try to kill me this time, so I think I need to take it up a notch.

I cross the cafeteria just so I can spit in his food. I piss on his door and get the space monkey janitors to leave it for fifty-seven hours. In group therapy, I take a page from Chloe and monologue about how the last thing I’d like to do is get my rocks off chemically unhindered before the seizure medications they’ve got me on arrest all of my brain activity altogether. A nice nugget for Mills to report back to Somerset about my proposed psychosexual obsession. I segue into discussing how I met Tyler, on the nude beach, grit all across him as he hauled pilings and sat with his bare ass in the sand. It’s the most I’ve ever said about Tyler. The group minder scribbles on her sheet like mad as I describe Tyler’s wet, blond hair. His minute of perfection.

And he still doesn’t try to fight me. I know he wants to. He wants to shake me by my throat and rattle me and slam my head into the ground until it splits open like a rotten egg. But he doesn’t, and he looks torn. Like he’s guilty. Like Tyler could ever really feel guilt.

This is one of the things I want to complain about when Marla calls me.

She still does. More than when she was alive. But she says nothing, and I can’t break the silence. I sit there, orderlies watching as I say nothing, she says nothing, just a whole bunch of dead air between us.

Ghosts were always calling for Marla, at Paper Street.

Now I’ve got Marla’s ghost on the line and Tyler’s ghost in the flesh, and neither want to talk to me.

We get locked up in supervised one-on-one again, now with both of us chained and one twitch away from a new addiction.

I ask Mills, did you talk to her enough, that last week?

Do you think she knew you loved her?

Do you think she felt loved?

Mills asks for the sedation, this time. Polite about it, like he’s not seething. Like I can’t see how his eyes have been only half empty most of these days, since I’ve managed to fill him up with rage at me. Folie à deux, I want it so bad.

I am Jack’s crippling sense of rejection.

My stupid psychiatrist, he lets Mills amble out of the room and traps me in there.

I’m corralled. An angel on either shoulder. All the staff who aren’t from the Project have stopped laughing at my jokes. My antics have not gone unobserved. I’ve been given my time to rein as the world’s most entertaining lab rat, and now this localized god wants results.

“What’s your goal here?”

Isn’t it obvious?

“No. Tell me about what you’re thinking,” he says. I look at him, and I see him, for the first time. Not disillusioned, not holy. Just a sniveling doctor with a penchant for human experimentation and the funding to enable him.

How horribly average.

He says, “I understand this is difficult for you, but we really need to know what’s going on if you want to have continued support in this manner for your recovery.” Play nice, or you’ll lose your favorite toy.

I say, this has never been about recovery. It’s time we faced that, isn’t it?

This man, so used to my religious apathy, has never truly had a challenge. He looks pinched.

He says, “Of course I want you to recover.”

And I laugh, and I point out that we both know those outside these halls are more interested in what’s wrong with me than any semblance of fixing it.

You’re not getting paid to drain the swamp in my head. You’re here to keep it plugged up, decomposing. We both know this, I’m just acknowledging it. I laugh.

I tell this little god, he can write me up in all his little acclaimed journals.

But don’t come to me, saying I have to play your little games or you’ll take Mills away. We both know you won’t. The day I give up, the day I become a real vegetable is the day your cash cow keels over. You’re not going to punish me. Not really. You’ll take away my jello, my oats, you’ll put me on lithium and clozapine and valproic acid, but you don’t really want this to end. You don’t want me to get better. You want Tyler back just as much as I do. You can’t do shit to me. I have nothing to lose.

You have everything.

Tyler’s words, back home in my mouth. They’re mine now. I get up and the orderlies flanking me do nothing. I look down on this small, small man, and I think, he has never known a bigger fish. He doesn’t even know the hands that feed him.

I’ve hit bottom, I say, and it’s not you who holds the shovel. Be grateful I let you observe.

#fight club #my writing #se7 #se7en (1995)#se7en #back on my bullshit !#theres a turn after this. i feel like this fic getting posted in breaks of several weeks is not ideal oops #ill probably go through and try to clean it up when i post it on ao3. but we are still a ways away. getting pretty long. whew #still have several major scenes....

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nohoney · 10 months

Note

do you think Katsuki and the Reader would pull a Katniss and Peetahbx?? could you maybe write something about it? i feel like it’s be very interesting, all three living in the victors village, and the love triangle

oooh let’s nod our heads and say that they did (◕‿◕)

“Bakugou. Where’s (Name)?” Hawks asks after navigating through at least a dozen people in the party to try to find you. You’re supposed to stick close to either one of them, no matter what. The three of you need to stick together since the Capitol’s eyes are on you for breaking the rules. A year has passed since you and Bakugou were put into the games.

And it’s been months since you’ve withdrawn into yourself.

“I think they’re trying to split us apart.” Bakugou tuts, “They’re nosier than ever. Fucking pricks.”

Hawks worries for you; you were already nervous as it was just getting ready. He can only hope you’re keeping your composure wherever you are. You haven’t been the same since the games.

The near death experience changed you, and it didn’t help that you were confused about your own feelings towards himself and Bakugou.

“Hawks is gonna take care of you, okay? You’re going to be alright as long as you stick by him.” Bakugou tried to calm you in the last moments of the game when you and him were left standing. Hawks remembers how you trembled, distraught with blood on your face. “He’s always cared about you more than anyone else.”

“N-No… I need you!” Your voice shivered, “I can’t go home without you!”

You tried to cling to Bakugou but he was able to push you off. The both of you were tired but Bakugou still had enough energy to throw himself into a rushing river, which in a matter of seconds would have killed him and made you the victor. Instead the second he threw himself in, you ran right in after him.

The two of you drowned. The game makers acted quickly to stop the rushing tides of the river and their machines finding your bodies that would have been impossible to find if not for the controlled environment to make the waters still within a matter of seconds.

There was no choice but to let the two of you live to the relief of audience but not to the Capitol.

The hardest part about living after the games was watching you become so quiet. And all the questions of the relationship between the three of you began to arise. Bakugou’s words about Hawks taking care of you, the childhood stories Hawks revealed to gain you extra support in the games, all the recordings played of the three of you together or apart were over analyzed to delve deeper into what the relationship between the three of you was.

“Hawks, we know you already said it before, that you only think of (Name) as someone you care about. But just between the two of us, you can tell me-“ a random party goer comes up to Hawks and invades his space.

It’s all Hawks is doing at these shindigs, avoiding questions from others about how he feels about you. He’s been bombarded for the last few months with questions and recorded clips in his face and elite gossipers swearing that he can tell them the truth and it won’t get out.

“Fuck off.” Bakugou pushes off the random person and stomps away. “‘M gonna find her.”

“Yeah, the two of you together go find your little princess.” A couple giggle together before quickly turning away.

It did not help that everyone was thinking that you were being handed back and forth between Bakugou and Hawks.

They find you sitting at a table amongst others, leaning on your elbow and looking exhausted. There are several little flutes on the top of the table and what looks like a servant grabbing a napkin and wiping at your mouth. Hawks recognizes the liquid in one of the flutes; it’s used to help people throw up when they feel full so that they can keep on eating or drinking.

“You feel better? Here, you got it all out your system so have another drink.” Someone offers and you blindly reach for it.

Bakugou is quick to step in, “She’s done, get that away from her.”

“Oh come on! She can handle it! She already did it three times.”

Oh fuck, they had to get you out as soon as possible. Hawks is excusing everyone politely while Bakugou carries you off.

“My tummy hurts…” you mumble into Bakugou’s collar. “I don’t feel good.”

“Because you kept drinking and then throwing it up. Those damn assholes were trying to keep you drunk.” He points out, “We’re taking you to bed.”

Hawks walks behind, bidding goodbye on behalf for you and Bakugou and just also wanting out of this party.

The three of you ride silently in the bullet train back to your district. You’re curled up against a leather couch with Bakugou’s coat over your shoulders and Hawks rubbing your back to soothe you. Your head is in your hands, having kept it down the moment Bakugou settled you onto the couch.

“They made me drink,” You murmured, finally finding some energy to put your head up, “I didn’t want to but they gave me stuff that didn’t taste like alcohol.”

Bakugou’s lips press into a thin line and his face easy to read. Hawks isn’t surprised at all but he’s frustrated that they managed to isolate you away from them.

Out of the three of them, people look to you to reveal what the nature of your relationship is with them. Months of prodding and pestering. If Bakugou hadn’t mentioned anything about Hawks before diving into the water, then the two of you could have just been paired as a couple and played the part for the crowds after pulling you up from the river.

Now the three of you are tense around one another, walking silently back to the victors village and to your separate houses.

You look at both of them but cast your eyes down quickly as you enter your home. Bakugou only watches you disappear behind your door before secluding himself away. And Hawks stands at his doorstep first, looking at yours and Bakugou’s house side by side together.

This wasn’t what he imagined what it’d be like to have you and Bakugou back. He finally has neighbors in the village and yet it’s feeling lonelier than ever.

#hehe imm sorry if you were expecting something a little happier #but i liked the second movie where it showed katniss and peeta as kinda strained with one another #so i went off of that #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bakugou angst #hawks angst #hunger games au

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sacredcyber · 10 months

Text

SilverV Angst drabble

“Clocks tickin, V.” She watches as Johnny appears on the balcony, the lack of blue static unnerves her. v slightly shifts her body, the after effects of the relic malfunction make her movements sluggish and syrupy. Johnny observes her staggered movement, her eyes are unfocused, glassy. He takes a few steps forward.

“V? Hey come on, look at me.”

He knows he can’t touch her, his hand simply phases through her cheek. V lets out a small hum as if to tell him ‘I’m still here’ she lifts her hand and places it on his. The fuzzy static tickles her palm. Johnny lets out a held breath, she’s done. V’s given all she has . She’d shot, killed and ran all over this damn city for months, now she can barely lift her head.

“Johnny…” she calls for him weakly.

He scoots closer, her messy pink hair covers her green eyes, he wishes he could move them out so he could look at her properly. “What do you want to do v?” She looks up, her head wobbling a bit, “what I want? Can’t have…”

Johnny sighs “you can, I’m trying to save your sorry ass you just gotta-“

“Want to-” her hand slips, Johnny tries in vain to catch it. V suddenly gasps for air, Johnny moves closer, his hands clipping through her wrists “let me in Come on v!! Let me take the drivers seat!” He begs. She begins to break out into a violent coughing fit, dark crimson blood stains her netrunner suit. She leans back, “Oh FUCK.” A lone pained cry erupts from her lips. Johnny stands and slowly circles her, he can’t bear it, watching her drift away in front of his eyes. A defeated sigh escapes him as he sits on the neighboring lawn chair beside her.

“What do you want for your life V?” He asks, she looks over, seemingly confused. Johnny shrugs, “Everyone wants to tell you how to live your life, me included, but what do you want?” V looks away, her gaze focused on the buildings ahead. “What I want?” Johnny nods, “come on, play by play. How do you want to see the next month of your life.” She sighs and focuses her eyes towards the sky. “I want to go to Mikoshi, with you by my side.” She stops and swallows a breath. “Alt…helps us get in, we-we’re in the basement floor…” she stops to catch her breath. “She leads us to the mainframe and…”

“She gives your body back, right?” He interjects.

V goes quiet, she carefully lowers her head to look straight ahead. “I wake up in Pacifica. It’s sunny, I can feel the warmth, smell the sea breeze comin’ in through the window. I’m at the Pistis Sophia.” She takes another deep breath. “Nibbles sleepin’ on my lap, and…you come around the corner with a coffee in hand.” She refuses to look at him, her eyes burn, trying not to betray herself with tears.

“…and then what?” He whispers.

Her glassy stare remains steadfast. “You’ve packed our bags…the Porsche is ready to go…” she swallows a hiccup. “And…you pull me off the couch. I can touch you. You’re so real Johnny, real flesh and bone and chrome.” She starts to quiver, hot tears slowly spill over. He watches as her tough facade cracks, exposing her soft wounded underbelly.

“We drive for hours…and hours and days…” a pained cry erupts as she tries to adjust herself. “until we can’t see this fucking place anymore!” She lets herself cry, the weight on her shoulders hasn’t been entirely lifted, but she feels lighter. Some time passes, the sound of a lighter flickers on.

“Y’know…I always saw us shackin’ up in that shitty little apartment on the Northside.” He takes a deep drag. V turns to face him, Johnny looks down. “After mikoshi, I’d drag your ass back there. Keep an eye on you and make sure you’re still breathing.” He flicks his artificial cigarette, ash disappears into the void. “Maybe after a day I’d grab the cat, and start packin’. Wouldn’t wanna stay here for long…I’d…want to skip the goodbyes. Probably not right but…” He trails off and shrugs. “Never been one to do things right.”

“Why northside?”

He shrugs “Makes me think if we were younger, first starting out together we’d probably live in a shithole like that.” He takes another drag. “Plus it’s small…Don’t like when I can’t see you.”

V hums in agreement. The sounds of night city fade into the background. The smell of exhaust no longer bothers her as it once did. If anything it just makes her wistful that she won’t be here much longer to take it in. Johnny extends his ganic hand across the small plastic table, an invitation. V reciprocates, placing hers on his. The pixel aberration ceases and she can feel something solid about his grasp. There’s warmth, combined with the feeling of licking a battery. Johnny's fingers intertwine with hers and he squeezes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

V blinks away tears and nods. “You saved me, would’ve been dead earlier if you weren’t there.” She sighs, “I…don’t feel alone anymore.” Johnny chuckles, “same here.”

The pair look out towards the cityscape. There’s a quiet understanding between them, something held dearly in V’s heart, a warmth, false hope? Does it matter at this point? All Johnny knows is that he can feel it too.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #cp2077 #cyberpunk2077 #female v #silverV #writing stuff #I just love them sm🥺

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bullet-prooflove · 16 days

Note

Send me a made-up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write to go with it

5 Times That Matthew Keller Almost Said "I Love You" and the 1 Time He Finally Did

The first night he killed for you. He has no problem with putting a bullet in anyone or using a knife if it’s protecting his own interests. You were just another partner, someone he needed to help pull off the con, he shouldn’t give a shit about leaving you high and dry even if he is sleeping with you. But he finds himself lingering, waiting for you to exit the building and then you just don’t… So he does back in, he sees that security guard with his hands on you, touching you and honestly he loses his shit. This isn’t a reaction, it’s overkill. He shoots the fucker in the chest until the clip runs out, until the gun stops discharging bullets. It’s later that night when he’s fucking you, that the words almost roll off his lips. He’s looking into your eyes and he can’t stop thinking about the fear he felt in that moment, the rage and he realises that he would do anything for you, anything you god damn asked him.

There’s a night when he comes home from casing a job, you’re standing there in nothing but his shirt, painting on a canvas, it’s something you do for fun, to relax. You’re good at it, some of your work hangs in the indie galleries. It’s how you met, him studying your work during one of the shows he was vetting. He realises that he likes, coming home to you, watching you, being with you. He likes it a lot. When he comes to stand behind you, he wraps his arms around you, his face buried in your throat and he thinks this is home, this is the place he’s meant to be. He almost whispers it against your skin, but he stops himself. He always stops himself.

The morning he leaves. He wakes up beside you, it’s the third night in a row he’s told himself he’s going, the third night in a row he’s stayed. His thumb chases over the apple of your cheek and he finds himself smiling because you just look so beautiful when you sleep, his lips brush over yours and it is just the sweetest sensation. He almost says it then, I love you, I want to stay here with you but he catches himself because doing that means admitting he’s vulnerable and Keller, he just can’t allow himself to do that so he forces himself to leave, to sell the Degas and disappear to Europe.

The night he calls you from a hotel room in Europe. He’s drunk on an expensive bottle of wine and he’s just fucked another woman but he can’t stop thinking about you, how he wishes he was fucking you, sleeping with you. After she leaves he picks up the phone and calls you but he gets your voicemail and he almost says it then, he almost says I love you, I miss you but he doesn’t. Instead he listens to the sound of your voice over and over again until he falls asleep.

When he comes back. He stands on the balcony and he watches you fuck another man. He knows you’re teaching him a lesson, that he deserves it but it but it hurts like a hell. That night when he comes to you, when he submits to you, he almost tells you then. His hands are bound above his head and you’re riding him slowly, your gaze locked on his. There’s such an intimacy in that moment, such sensuality. He can’t explain what it does to him to be back here like this with you. You don’t understand how much I love you, he almost says, how much it scares me.

When he does say it, he’s holding you in his arms and there’s blood on your lips because Woodford, he figured it out, that you didn’t want him, that you didn’t love him so he shot you, he shot you in the chest. He left you to die in the bed where Matt made love to you this morning, where he kissed you goodbye before he moved millions for that man.

“I love you,” Matt whispers as he cradles you against to his chest. “Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”

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#matthew keller #matthew keller x reader #white collar

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dreamwatch · 5 months

Note

For the wrapped meme: 11 & Steddie, if you please!

Thank you for the prompt, I really needed this to get my brain working.

You know until your ask I didn't realise I hadn't even specified a fandom! Stranger Things, people! (in case anyone else wants to send me a prompt)

---

#11 - Refugee by Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers

Steve is vibrating with anger.

They’re sitting in Eddie’s van in the parking lot outside Bradley’s Big Buy. Eddie’s looking in the rear view mirror wiping someone else’s spit off the side of his face with some grubby napkin he found in the glove box. He’s acting like he’s wiping some girls lipstick off his cheek.

“Stop staring at me.”

Steve turns away, looks out the passenger window to see the prick from the store packing his groceries. The temptation to run over there and kick the shit out of him is so intense he ends up staring at his hands instead. He’s not sure why he suddenly feels like the bad guy in all of this.

“I feel like a drive, how about you, Steve?” Eddie’s voice is clipped, his tone all pinched and stiff. Steve just nods, there’s no point saying anything right now, he’ll get shot down and it will start a fight and he’s not in the fucking mood.

They drive for close to an hour, Steve taking surreptitious glances at Eddie from time to time. Over the hour he watches as Eddie’s shoulders relax, the tension in his arms loosens. Watches the transformation from an angry alley cat back to Eddie.

It’s not fair, but he learned a while ago nothing in Hawkins is fair. But what annoys him, what really incenses him, is how Eddie reacts to these bastards. He doesn’t fight back. He just grins, throws up those stupid horns, sticks his tongue out. He pokes the bear, and he looks like he’s enjoying it too, unless you really know him. Then you see the flash of hurt in his eyes, the way he stiffens slightly. The way he hunkers down for hours afterwards while he works through whatever the fuck is going on in his head. Which Steve can’t help might be faster and easier if Eddie would just talk to him. Or anyone. Just fucking talk.

The van slows and pulls off the road, stopping at the edge of a cornfield. Eddie shuts off the engine, killing the music. Steve sneaks a glance, watches as Eddie tips his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes. The engine tick tick ticks, the birds caw. An occasional car whooshes by. Eddie and Steve just sit.

A warm breeze flows through the windows, and Eddie pushes stray hairs off his face. He caught colour on his cheeks over the summer, the scar on his left one no longer looking so stark against his skin. Eddie took great delight in showing that off to the townsfolk of Hawkins. Sometimes Steve just wants to scream at him.

“I know you don’t get it,” Eddie says on a sigh, finally cutting through the last of the tension in the van.

“Yeah, I don’t. Sorry.”

“I don’t need you fighting my battles. I can do that myself.”

Steve shakes his head, “Didn’t see you putting up much of a fight.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?”

Eddie pats himself down, and Steve knows he’s looking for cigarettes. He also knows he doesn’t have any. He only has gas in the van because Steve gives him the money for it. No one will give him a job, Wayne gets less hours at the plant, and they all know why that is. So he gives Eddie gas money because he drives Steve around even though Steve has a perfectly nice car, and they both know what this really is. Just another thing they don’t talk about.

Steve lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag before passing it to Eddie.

“I don’t know how you put up with it, that’s all.”

“And what else am I supposed to do, exactly?” Eddie takes a drag, and ashes the cigarette out the window. Doesn’t hand it back to Steve. He wasn’t expecting him to. “You can’t fight everyone, Steve.” And he draws his name out, in that way that makes Steve want to slap him. Like he’s being mocked. Like this is school, and he’s the mean boy.

“Then— Then leave.” Don’t leave.

Eddie rounds on him, eyes blazing. “Why should I fucking leave?”

“You always wanted to go, you said—”

“On my terms. My terms! Not because some hick cunt wants me gone. This is my fucking home, Wayne’s home. My family and friends are here. I nearly died for this place, Steve! I have more fucking right to be here than them.” He runs out of steam, stabs the cigarette into the ashtray likes its ablaze. “I’ll go when I’m good and ready.”

The sun creeps lower in the sky, and the light hits Eddie’s hair and it’s like a halo. He gets these moments, when he’s still, when he’s sleeping, when he thinks he’s not being watched, and his face relaxes and he looks like a boy. Just a kid. It’s not fair.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, sucks in a lungful of sticky summer air, and then turns the key in the ignition. Music roars, and Steve jumps, it gets him every time. Eddie huffs, a ghost of a laugh, and reaches over to punch him lightly on the thigh.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

The van turns in the road, heads back towards Hawkins, and despite the afternoon of worry and anger, all Steve feels right now is relief.

#Spotify wrapped writing prompt #steddie ficlet #dreamy writes #steve harrington #eddie munson #Spotify Top 100 Fic Meme #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic

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analogwriting · 4 months

Text

Childhood Crush

Chapter 4: Copper

Killer x gn!reader

word count: 3.7k next

“Ah, I see they’ve upgraded to a scrapyard, hm?” You looked around, stepping over bodies. You assumed this was the first gang that your brother and his friends took care of. You examined them as you walked, noticing none of them were dead, just knocked out. Good. Sometimes your brother could get hot headed - you didn’t want him to kill anyone. Especially if this was just some kind of weird test of strength.

You noticed your brother and Killer on the ground in the middle of a clearing. Oh, this was most definitely a trap. However, you didn’t care as you rushed forward. “Tungsten! Killer!” You looked over the both of them, untying them and checking their vitals. Both of them were fine for the most part, just beat up real good.

“You shouldn’t…have come,” you heard Killer say. You rolled your eyes. “You should know by now I can’t just stand idly by.”

“He’s…right. They wanted to bring you here,” Eustass said, slowly sitting up. “Ah, don’t strain yourselves.” You sighed, looking at Heat and Wire. You handed them your bag. “You two work on patching them up for the time being, I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Having someone fight your battles again, Kid?” You heard a familiar voice. It was a couple octaves deeper since it had been a couple of years, but it was still recognizable. You felt your blood boil as you stood, gripping your bat tightly as you turned to glare at him.

Nathan and his friends all seemed much larger than before. Seemed everyone around you was growing while you seemed to stop doing so. You watched as Nathan walked over to you, easily towering you. Shit, he even seemed taller than your brother. Great. Awesome. This was gonna be fantastic.

“Long time, no see, y/n,” he said and you made a face. “Gross. I don’t like it when you say my name.” He just laughed, throwing his head back and making a spectacle of it. Your deadpan expression didn’t change. Was he always this annoying? You felt like he was more irritating than before. Maybe it was because you were in a sour mood.

Though, when it came to these things, you were always in a sour mood.

“You’re funny, you know that? I’ve waited for this moment a long time. You humiliated me last time and it seems that the gods have taken pity on me. Given me a chance for revenge by bringing you to me.” A smirk spread across his face and you just blinked.

“The gods did not bring me here. You beat up my brother and his friends more than likely knowing that’s how you’d be able to drag me out.” You twirled your bat in your hand and rested it on your shoulder as you looked up at him, absolutely bored of this conversation.

Nathan’s eye twitched. “You dare mock the gods?” A dark look spread across his face. “No wonder they brought you to me. You must be punished.”

You blinked. What the hell was he going on about? You shook your head, knowing there was no point in arguing with a madman. He was blind with revenge and you just needed to put him in his place again. Easy.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his cronies stepping closer to the two of you. You were currently running a million different plans through your mind. They were all much larger than you and had been fighting all these years. Sure, you sparred with the boys, but that was different. That wasn’t genuine fighting. They were all bigger too, but you could use that to your advantage. As long as you were quick enough on your feet…

You heard someone step from behind you, and you turned, swinging without hesitation. They stopped short, but you still clipped them in the jaw. They reeled back, holding it. “Fuck,” they grumbled and you gave a sheepish grin. “Don’t scare me like that.” Upon further inspection, you realized that it was the Nathan guy’s brother. You remember him trying to make a big stink about whomever their father was.

Two different people lunged at you from opposite directions with swords and you felt your body move on its own and that familiar feel of excitement. One backflip later and you had dodged their attack.

“Still as nimble as ever, I see,” Nathan commented from his position. He hadn’t moved from his spot, more than likely enjoying the show.

You heard a cry, looking over to see one of the sword wielders lunging at you. You turned out of the way, ending up right next to them as you swung your bat at the same time. Unfortunately for them, they turned to move but caught your weapon to their face, sending them flying. You flinched. “Whoops,” you said, still lack of emotion on your face. You walked over to them noticing they were bleeding, but breathing. “Oh good.”

You didn’t come here to kill anyone.

“I’d get them to a doctor soon. They have a skull fracture and probably internal blee-”

“Yeah, because of you, you bastard,” you heard someone ground out. You looked over, ducking as they swung a two by four at you.

You stood back up only to have your feet knocked out from under you by another person. You crashed to the ground backwards, but were able to bring your bat up in time to stop the barrage of fists from connecting with you.

They grabbed at your bat, trying to rip it away from you, but you held onto it. With a burst of strength, you pushed forward, pinning them to the ground this time. You let go of your bat, confusing them in the process. This gave you enough time to punch them square in the face without issue. Twice. Then you stood up, ripping your bat out of their hands as they covered their face and curled up in pain.

“Broken nose, fractured jaw. Probably a couple missing teeth,” you said.

Two down, three to go. They might have all been bigger, but they didn’t seem to be all that much tougher. You heard a battle cry, once again coming from above. “This again?” You stepped out of the way, letting them land on the ground before bringing your bat down on their back and knocking the wind out of them. They moved their arm, swiping their sword at you as a last ditch attempt and you jumped back, swinging your weapon and knocking their sword from their hand. The clattering echoed in the scrapyard.

You heard a cry, but this one wasn’t a battle one. And it was your brother. You whipped around, seeing the Delmark brother holding your brother by the hair with a blade pressed to his neck. “Eustass!” You stepped towards him. “Ah, ah,” his captor said, pressing the blade further into his neck and drawing a bit of blood.

You stopped cold. “Bigs, don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” your brother ground out, but it was obvious that was a lie. They had already been pretty banged up, so they couldn’t fight back very well.

“Drop your weapon if you want him to live.” With no hesitation, your weapon dropped to the ground, the sound of steel on the concrete echoing all around. Your mind raced with what you should do now. There were two left. The brothers. If you could just get the one off yours-

Then you felt something metal press against your head and the click of a barrel. A gun? Were they fucking serious right now? Bringing a gun to a gang fight was against the unspoken rules but…you guessed this wasn’t the normal gang fight. They didn’t plan on letting you live this whole time. Fuck.

Your own eyes were wide and so were Eustass’. “Bigs…” Even the other boys were staring at you, frozen. With their own leader being held at knife point and you with a gun against your head, they couldn’t do much without someone ending up dead. You had to think fast.

Then your brother started squirming. You saw as the blade dug further into his skin. “Eustass, stop!” You stepped forward, stopping as you felt the gun press further into your head as Nathan’s voice boomed. “You want me to kill them?” Eustass immediately froze, obviously not wanting you to be hurt in any way.

“That’s better. Be a good boy and sit there, this is between me and y/n.”

His attention turned back to you. “Now, simple question. Whose life are we sparing? Your life or th-”

“Theirs.”

“Bigs!” You shot a glare at your brother and he just looked at you. It was filled with all kinds of emotion. Hurt, worry, sadness, anger, panic, just about all of them were going through his face right now. As well as the others.

You looked at Eustass. “Do you trust me?” He blinked, but nodded.

“What the hell do you think you’re gonna be able to do in your situation,” Nathan cackled. “There’s nothing you can do!”

You heard the gun click as he readied it once more and you ducked right before he pulled the trigger. The bullet missed you and flew right for Nathan’s own brother, hitting him between the eyes - killing him instantly. You heard the gun drop to the ground as well as Nathan dropping to his knees. “No…”

You didn’t want there to be a death today, but you didn’t have a choice.

You stood up, picking up your bat in the process. “Maybe you shouldn’t play around with guns if you’re not prepared for the consequences,” you said, your voice hollow. You stood above Nathan as he looked at you. With one quick movement, you used the butt of your baseball bat, bringing it down on his head to strike him down.

You thought you could stop there, but the anger and rage was slowly consuming you and you wanted nothing more than this man to be dead. This was twice he had brought harm to your brother. The first time was just because your brother was hot headed, but this time was for some petty revenge for a children’s scuffle. You were all young back then but he had kept ahold of that?

You held your bat over your head, ready to bring it down on his skull in one, killing blow. “This won’t happen again.” You brought your bat down, only for you to feel it be yanked out of your hands. You turned, swinging your fist on whomever was going to fuck with you this time only for them to catch your fist and spin you around to pin your arm against your back. “Fuckin-” You squirmed against them.

“Let go!”

You brought your head up to try to headbutt whomever it was, only to meet solid chest. Of course you weren’t tall enough. You tried to solidify your stance to try and throw them over you but they dropped to their knee, causing you to fall on your own ass, but still being restrained. You continued to struggle before a voice finally broke through all the blind rage.

“Y/n, please calm down.” Killer? You immediately stopped. You supposed that made sense. Whomever had a hold on you hadn’t tried harming you in any way. Wait, but wasn’t he injured? How the hell was he able to hold you down so well? Were you that tapped out without realizing it?

Now that you were calming down, all the energy was leaving your body. However, you knew that you needed to properly patch everyone up, so you couldn’t collapse now. “You can let me go now,” you said, feeling irritation settling in. He did, standing up and helping you do the same.

You dusted yourself off. “Why did you do that? He doesn’t deserve to live after all he’s done,” you grumbled, glaring at Nathan who was curled up on the ground. Whether or not he was conscious, you had no idea. You reached for your bat only for Killer to kick it away. You glared at him.

“What’s the fucking problem?”

“You need to calm down,” he said, an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite read.

“I am calm!”

“Clearly.” He folded his arms across his chest and you glared at him.

Your brother picked up your bat, looking at it before he looked at you. You held your hand out for it and he shook his head, stepping back with it. “Eu-”

“With that look in your eye that you had as you swung at Killer, I don’t think you would’ve stopped at Nathan.” You noticed him clench his jaw and worry seemed to outline his features.

“What are you going on about?” You groaned, putting your hands on your hips. You were beyond irritated now.

“You looked damn near ready to kill him.”

“Yeah with what he-”

“Not Nathan.”

You stopped, blinking. Your brother looked at you. “I think if we hadn’t stopped you when we did, you would’ve taken all of us out. Even when you did see it was Killer that had taken the bat, you proceeded to swing anyway. The bloodthirsty look didn’t leave your eyes.” He clicked his tongue, placing your bat over his shoulder.

You looked between them before you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You two are dramatic.” You turned on your heel to head out of the scrapyard. “I wouldn’t hurt you guys.” You placed your hands behind your head as you walked. “Let’s go, I need to patch you up.”

“Where the hell are you going?” You turned to look at Nathan on the ground. He looked at you, grief and anger in his eyes. “Finish me off.”

You knew he was going to be torn up over his brother. The merciful thing would be to end him now, but…

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” you said, walking away. He needed to suffer to atone for what he’d done. He broke the rules for fighting and brought a gun. This was his own fault. He pulled the trigger without thinking of all the possibilities that could happen.

Back at home, you started patching everyone up properly. You were quiet for the most part, mulling over what had happened. Were you really that bad? Would you have harmed your brother and his friends had they not stepped in when they did?

You pushed those thoughts away. There was no point in worrying right now. What’s done is done and you had a job to do. Your brother was in the worst condition out of everyone. He had a broken arm and a broken leg, so you set him up in bed before you started to patch him up. Your salve could heal up cuts and scrapes pretty quickly, but not broken bones.

Maybe that would be what you worked on next. Something to speed up the process of healing bones.

Heat and Wire were pretty straight forward. They had cuts and scrapes, but nothing your medicine couldn’t heal up quickly. You also made a mental note to run to the store later. You still hadn’t been able to scale back the side effects for how hungry it made everyone. And with the five of you, you knew you’d be going through a lot of food the next week or so.

“Y/n.” You were brought back to reality as Killer sat in front of you. “Ya seem spaced out. You alright?” You looked at him and nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah. Just thinking about what to get from the store later. We’re all going to be quite famished once the salve kicks in.”

Killer chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too good to us.” You just scoffed, rolling your eyes as you looked him over. After your assessment, you came to the conclusion that he had a nasty gash in his head that needed to be stitched up and a sprained ankle. Nothing you couldn’t take care of quick.

“Now, I’m going to need to stitch up your head.” You moved to clip his hair out of the way so you had better access to the wound. “It’s gonna hurt, especially since it’s on your head.”

The man before you just scoffed and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” You prepared your things and looked at him from your peripherals. “Uh huh. You keep that spirit when you start raw dogging these stitches.” A small grin spread across your face and he chuckled.

You stood in between his legs so you could look over his head better. “We’re gonna have to get real close and personal here,” you mumbled, trying to still your racing heart. You could feel your down face warming up, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to see you since he had to keep looking down so you could see what you were doing.

“Fine by me.” You heard him say. You took a deep breath. “Here we go…”

The moment you pierced his skin, he hissed in pain. His hands found their way to your hips and gripped them tightly. Your body immediately reacted, heating up and your eyes widened in surprise. You bit back any kind of noise that was currently trying to escape your mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You cleared your throat, trying so fucking hard to concentrate on your task at hand. It was damn near impossible because every time he let up, he’d squeeze again when you had to pierce his skin once more. Why the fuck hadn’t you developed some kind of numbing cream yet? That was your next project, for sure.

Once finished, you took the clip out of his hair and he seemed to realize that his hands were on your hips. “Oh…uh…” You looked down at him as his face seemed to turn red. A fever? “So-” He pulled his hand away and you noticed blood.

“Where did that come from?” You looked at his hand, looking for some kind of cut when he pulled his hand away, pulling you closer. Your face went red. “Kill-”

“It’s coming from you.” He lifted your shirt partly and you looked down, noticing a big gash in your torso that went from your side over and down to the front of your hip, near your pelvis. “Oh, would you look at that…”

“It’s coming from here too,” he mumbled, holding up your arm, revealing another cut down the underside. “Huh…I didn’t even notice…”

Though, now that your adrenaline was finally dying down, fatigue was catching up to you and you felt yourself sway a bit. Just how much blood have you lost?

Killer quickly stood up, sitting you down instead. “What do I need to do?” he asked and you shook your head, grabbing your utensils. “‘S fine. I’ll do it,” you mumbled, feeling your head start to spin. You closed your eyes for a moment to regain your composure.

“Like hell you’re fine,” he mumbled, swatting your hands away from your equipment. You opened your eyes and frowned. “You all are really bad at stitches,” you whined softly. You were on a rapid decline.

“We don’t have a choice now, do we? Start instructing me before you pass out and then you’re really fucked.”

You made a face and sighed. You moved to sit in the chair sideways, leaning on the back so that Killer had more access to the wound. “Holy shit,” he mumbled. “That bad, huh?” You snorted.

You heard fabric tearing and it seemed to sober you up momentarily. “What the fuck?” You looked down, noticing he had torn away parts of your shirt to access the wound better.

He looked at you with a raised brow. “How else am I supposed to be able to see properly with all this fabric in the way?” You just rolled your eyes. He looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“I’m trying to think of the best way to position myself…” You blinked slowly before looking down. Yeah, it was at a weird angle. He knelt down next to the chair. “This’ll have to do,” he mumbled. You nodded, resting your elbow back on the table to try and keep your arm out of the way while Killer worked under your instruction.

After a few minutes of guiding Killer through it, he seemed to get it. While his stitches were uneven and not perfect, they weren’t that bad either. “Bigs, what the fuck?” You looked over, seeing your brother being supported by Heat as they entered the kitchen with Wire in tow. “The fuck are you doing out of bed?” you demanded.

He completely ignored you. “Did that happen during the fight?”

“No, I just did this right now for fun.” You rolled your eyes.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“Probably because I didn’t notice?” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I swear, tungsten, don’t pick a-” Killer hit a particularly tender spot and you hissed, not having the most control of your movements as you suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged on it rather roughly.

He let out a low groan in response, his own movements stopping. You were just lucky his injury had been on the other side of his head. “Are you okay?” you heard your brother ask. “The fuck do you think? I’m getting fucking stitches.” That’s when you noticed Killer’s hair still balled in your fist and you immediately let go.

“Shit, sorry,” you grumbled. He didn’t say anything as he took a moment before starting once more. You noticed his face growing more red. Maybe he had an infection? You made a mental note to check for a fever when he was done.

Once he finished up, he quickly excused himself. You assumed he might be salty at you for tugging on his hair. You had just patched up a wound on his head, probably hurt him. Shit. You sighed, shifting yourself to sit in the chair correctly.

“How about we order pizza tonight?” Your brother’s face lit up along with the others’. “Fuck yeah.” You slowly stood up, heading towards the drawer to grab a menu.

There was no way in hell you were going to be able to cook tonight.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #killer one piece #killer x reader #am fics #cc #massacre soldier killer

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