#Reader: Fucking eat one of the candy bars I dare you.
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141!Reader: Interrogation
Soap: Shepherd won't talk. Should we... you know?
Price: Use torture? No. Y/N will handle it.
Ghost: Y/N? You mean 5'2 Y/N?
Soap: Yeah, how the hell would Y/N be intimidating?
Price: Just watch.
[In the interrogation room]
Reader: Let's play a little game I made. All you have to do is pick a candy bar, one has a blade. If you eat the wrong one, I swear to God, boy, that's on you. All I know is if you spit that shit out, boy, I bet I'd shoot.
Shepherd:
Also Shepherd: What the fuck-
#Shepherd: I'll talk but not to this psycho#Soap: what did I just witness#Reader: Fucking eat one of the candy bars I dare you.#Ghost: I'm never accepting candy from Y/N again. Ever.#incorrect cod quotes#cod#call of duty#call of duty incorrect quotes#ghost#simon ghost riley#captain price#john price#john soap mactavish#soap#general shepherd#inspired by the song Let's Play a Game by Baby Kia#fanficsforheartandsouls#141 reader#reader#gender neutral read
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so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛
Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it
Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻
Summary: idk, porn?
Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!
Marshall smut headcannons
Word count; 2,6K
Smut under the cut!
He is SUCH a tease, omg
Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it
(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit)
He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave
Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart
He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact
You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are
Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?”
If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him
Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously
“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe
Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle
Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to
The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before
Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao
Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however
The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off
Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms
Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off
But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too
It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋
He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life
This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways
And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities
He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking
Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red
But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic
Sometimes he won’t even ask ):
Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you
But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in
And your blood is heavenly to him
Much better than drinking colours all the time fr
Ngl, your period would be love making season for him
Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner
But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner
Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏
He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin
He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭
Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period
But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say
So take it like a champ lol
He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly
His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does
His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex
But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere
Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there
And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking
No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard—
I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶
Anyways
As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay
He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick;
His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.
You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.
He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip
“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you.
His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time
You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him
Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around
He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap
Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead
He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough
He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours
He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck
You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising
He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin
“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.”
You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck
With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.”
Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily
He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin
The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite
With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices
Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch
His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation
Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you
If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck
Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well
You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all
You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit
However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came
When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans
You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking
The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears
After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls
He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside
Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you
He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?”
You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck
He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane
He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips
You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own
He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face
It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care
All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands
His statement was true, though
You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch
Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw
“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways
He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”
Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch
You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal
He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement
He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly
When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting
You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable
You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans
He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you
He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations
That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out
He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him
He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed
You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength
Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast
His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration
When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came
He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you
You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy
It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again
He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up
Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after
He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after
He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you
He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable
He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel
Awe, he’s so cute (,:
He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰
Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much
And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so..
No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit
Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself
In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢
He’s so hot pls 🥲✋
He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.
Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏
#marshall lee x reader#marshall lee#marshall lee hc#smut hcs#adventure time x reader#fionna and cake#adventure time#help this is a kids show why am I writing smut about it
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ ivy | ellie w.
PAIRING: ellie x fem!reader
SUMMARY: although years have gone by, ellie cannot seem to get over the one that got away when a drunk night with friends lead to unexpected past places.
WARNING: somewhat nsfw and somewhat angst
WORD COUNT: 1.049
love, what’s it good for? a neurological con job, an excruciatingly slow but certain downwards spiral towards heartbreak– ellie was painfully aware of the sole two outcomes the feeling could possibly amount to, both of which meant agony ripping at her insides, a flesh eating beast doomed to haunt her ribcage as a lonely heart’s guard. she drowned out the sound of her cries permanently stuck in a lump between the clavicules with alcohol as though it would wipe her insides clean of romance’s remnants. five years was an eternity of time; she cursed the motherfucker who claimed time healed all wounds while hers remained too fresh for scabs. jesse was the one to pull her away from the destructive thoughts, a hand to the shoulder immediately flinched from.
“you know when we first became friends i lost a ten dollar bet ‘cause i was sure you’d be a fun drunk? two cups later you turned into fucking nietzsche or some shit. every time we go out just know i mourn my money”
ellie smirked in response before her body reminded itself why it has become that way.
eighteen year olds with raging hormones smuggling contraband to a half acquaintance’s garage party were the stupidest people allowed to carry hearts on their sleeve, always a truth or dare game away from confessing shakesperian feelings in stutters and chokeholds. your first kiss together was a seven minutes in heaven, where ellie swore she’d moved the empty bottle through newly acquired telekinesis.
she was cocky back then, careless too. entered the closet with a hand by your lowerback and so quickly crashed your lips together there was barely time to catch a breath. it was chapped, and desperate, and golden. she tasted of weed and every shooting star wish you ever made coming true, you tasted of cheap wine and candy rush on a five year old– your bodies pressed so close against eachother the wooden shelves trembled at the embrace. ellie used to be funny and you, god, you used to be made of giggles that put the sun to shame. she remembered your laugh into the kiss, the way it echoed down her throat, and that thought in its pureness lead to less holy memories of your moans, of how she used to rub herself against you till the wetness made you one, and her core ached. another sip of her drink to mask your taste still so effortlessly by her tongue through thought only she was sure to be going insane.
“you just need to get laid” jesse pointed out every attractive girl by the bar that drooled at her sight and blushed under her gaze, all predictable, none you. she wanted to get laid alright, she just needed it to be with you.
ellie remembered the last time you fucked; remembered the airport bathroom becoming increasingly smaller with every finger thrust, remembered whispering in your ear you would always be hers, remembered best of all you agreeing in hushed, choked out moans. you were late and you were wet dripping past your thighs, she licked you clean and savored it.
“found your little miss sunshine” dina struck her out of her thoughts so frantically ellie’s head spun even as she coaxed words to come out.
“what are you talking about?”
“her address. it’s wonders what one can do with a full name and the internet nowadays. it’s a five hour drive, if we get going now we’ll be there by two a.m for sure–“
“are you insane? what the fuck am i gonna do, ring my ex girlfriend’s doorbell at two in the morning half a decade after we last seen eachother and go hey i haven’t gotten over you since you left me five years ago to a new city, wanna get back together?” ellie mocked sincerely.
“i mean you don’t really have to do anything, we could always just stand there and think this whole thing was super funny tomorrow”
half a whiskey bottle in and two road trip! chants that coaxed the entire clueless bar of drunks to join in unknowingly later, it was a mostly convincing idea. that’s how she lost a hundred bucks to an unknown chatty bartender newly designated driver who had nothing to lose but a job shift and spent the next hours of her life being sobered up by dina’s relentlessly flirting towards the girl. ellie wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep, only noticed jesse’s shoulder beneath her cheek poking her face as to wake her up once the car was at a full stop, anticipation bouncing off of every member of the drive choking her in anxiety now fully soberly aware of her actions.
the neighborhood was different, quiet, green. it was odd knowing your exact house despite never being close to it before– she knew by the garden, infested of dandelions. you called them the wishing flowers and teared up when ellie told you they were actually weeds. you two had planned a dandelion filled front porch together, and there you were, living it alone. she felt pathetic, letting the feeling sink to the pit of her stomach, refused to get out of the car and finally had her arguments interrupted by a loud meowing. and saw you. messy hair left to roam free, mismatched socks, an oversized band t-shirt, her t-shirt, and nothing else.
“joel” you cooed, raising the impatient and loud kitten up towards your arms and it nuzzled onto your tired face “you have to stop leaving in the middle of the night okay? i can’t keep waking up like this”
ellie was frozen in place, watching your every move. your baby voice so soft she barely heard it from parking, the softness of your touch melting even a cat into submission, the way you had not changed one bit immediately transporting her into the past. the spell she had been under to observe you endlessly having only been broken by the front seat window rolling open noisily, though not fast enough to stop the wreckage coming as dina opened her mouth, inconsequential.
“hey, miss sunshine! i got your ex girlfriend in the back!”
your eyes met. the kisses, the taste, the skin, the caressing, the warmth, the words, the foreheads, the flowers, everything rushed back.
“els?”
#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie x fem!reader#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#tlou#softdykellie#ellie fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#ellie x you
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The girl next door
Ben Hargreeves x reader
Summary: Everyone saw you as the sweet girl next door, but Ben knew better, and he was determined to find your dark secrets.
Prompt: 25. “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s handcuffs and gags.”
A/N: My first Ben fic! Yay! For the sake of the plot (and my poor little heart) Ben is alive here!
Warnings: smut
“There she is again.” Ben pointed towards you, making his siblings roll their eyes. “I just know there has to be something dark about her! She can’t be perfect.”
“Maybe you just have a crush on her.” Luther mocked him as he sat besides him on the sidewalk.
“Maybe you should go talk to her, that way you’ll see she’s just a sweet girl.” Allison followed.
“You know guys, I actually think Ben might be right on this one. She may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s handcuffs and gags.” Klaus now seemed oddly interested as the others snorted, eating their donuts.
“Let’s bet on it!” Diego exclaimed excitedly, ever the competitive child. “If Ben’s right, we’ll have to do his and Klaus’s laundry for a month and viceversa. Vanya’s, with us too, right?”
“I guess... I do think Y/N is just an ordinary girl.”
“Alright, I’m going in then.” Ben finished his donut and crossed the street, determined to win.
-
“I don’t get why you’re so damn worried!” Two weeks had passed and even though Ben had gotten close to you, he couldn’t seem to find anything odd about you, it was truly unbelievable.
“We only have half a week before summer’s over, have you seen Luther’s laundry pile? Have you smelled it? It truly is something to worry about!” Ben paced around his room, thinking about a way to win.
“You’re just mad that Y/N can’t fulfill your dark fantasies.” Said Klaus, who couldn't care less about that stupid bet.
“What fantasies?” The two boys got startled at your voice coming from Ben’s window. You laughed as you climbed inside and landed on the bed, right next to Klaus, who just waved at you.
“Nothing, really, you know how he is.” Ben rolled his eyes and pushed his brother towards the door, closing it behind him. “Klaus just thinks you have a dark side to yourself, that’s all.”
“Well I can’t say I do Benny.” You smirked, knowing about it all along. “Do you?” At first, it had seemed quite funny that the siblings hadn’t noticed just how loud they were when they were talking about you that day. You weren’t offended by Ben’s comments but you desperately wanted him to lose that bet, even if he was right; after all, you had a reputation to keep. Lately, though, you realized that playing with him would be much more fun than watching him do some laundry.
“Do I what?” He asked nervously, clearly shocked by your interest on the subject.
“Do you have a dark side?” You gave him your best puppy eyes as you fought back laughter. He truly looked confused.
“I mean, maybe? I’m not really sure about it.”
“You know you can tell me everything, silly, I might understand you!” You stated with a cheerful tone.
“I don’t think you can.” He thought to himself, Klaus was the only one who knew about his sexual fantasies. The reason? Apparently he talked in his sleep. But you surely would run away from him if you knew he pictured you wearing black lacy underwear, giving him orders with your hand around his neck.
“Come on! What does dark even mean? I think everyone has secrets, some are just better at hiding it and that’s why they say it’s dark.” You pushed further, you just needed him to give in first before revealing your true nature.
“Oh really, Y/N? So you think it’s normal to enjoy pain? Isn’t it dark to want to give your entire control to someone else?” He finally exploded. Perfect.
“Oh my sweet Benny Boo.” You pouted as you stood from the bed and leaned towards him. “I do think it’s perfectly normal. In fact, I think we might have much more in common than you think we do.” You purred, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you.
“W-we do?”
“Yeah, we do. I think you’re about to win that bet.” You finished before pushing him against the door and kissing him roughly. You bit his lip and he whimpered against you, which allowed your tongue to explore his mouth freely. Filling him with pleasure and surprise.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, gasping for air as you finally split.
“You think I don’t know about that silly little thing you got going on? I’ve decided to let you win, but I might have to punish you for going against me.” Your hands worked through his zipper with grace and expertise and soon you were stroking his growing member through the thin fabric of his underwear.
“I’m sorry...” He moaned against your lips. He looked so attractive with those innocent eyes, so helpless.
“Here’s the thing, Benny, I’m gonna try to let you please me now, but if you dare cum before I do, I won’t let you touch me again for a month.” You took his hand and led him to the bed as you spoke. You pressed it against your breast and kissed him again.
As he grew more confident over his movements, he thought about how he wasn’t going to let that happen. He had just now discovered this and if you were willing to do it again he would be too. He just had to make you cum.
He pulled away only to undress you with tenderness. He treated you like you were a fragile porcelain doll and even though it drove you crazy, you were done with it. You removed every piece of clothing that stood between you and laid on the bed, resting on your elbows and waiting for him.
He understood and immediately followed through. You grabbed a condom from your pocket and handed it to him, assuming he would just go for it, but you were pleasantly surprised when he kneeled on the edge of the bed and ran his long, delicate through your folds. He wanted you ready for him, and he was making sure he wouldn’t fuck it up.
You weren’t sure anymore about Ben’s complete lack of experience when he started sucking on your clit. He was a natural and it was clear to see. The way his hand started pumping inside you wasn’t all that exciting, but his tongue knew what it was doing. He sucked, and licked, and twirled his tongue around it. You could tell that he was tremendously dedicated and you loved it. He wasn’t an expert, of course, but whatever he was doing worked cause it was nearly getting you there.
You sat up and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him towards you and kissing him with such passion you felt your lips burning. You needed him inside of you, and based on his growing erection you could tell he needed it too. You quickly opened the condom and tossed it’s package away before you slipped it on his throbbing cock.
“You look so fucking hot like that.” He moaned before pushing his entire length inside of you, nearly making you scream in pleasure as you dug your nails into his bare back, making him moan again as he started to move, thrusting hard but slow.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when one of his hands pinched your nipple before he grabbed your butt and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around him and he pinned you against the nearest wall making you bounce faster. His tip clashing with your g-spot and his hot breath against your ear were almost enough to make you cum, but it was the touching of your clit with the smooth skin above his pubic area that finally made you scream as you tiredly scratched his back.
As soon as you did so he let you down and you instantly took his dick in your mouth as a well deserved reward. You bobbed your head around it and twirled your tongue on the tip, but it didn’t take long for him to cum inside your mouth with a grunt, head swelling against you.
You swallowed and stood up to kiss him again when you heard a voice outside the room.
“I don’t know what that was but it sure does sound like we won! Congrats Benny Boo.” Klaus teased, making him turn a bright shade of pink.
“So... My house next time?” You asked, biting your lip and he just nodded, laughing at his siblings.
#yes#ben is a bottom and no one can convince me otherwise#ben hargreeves#ben hargreeves x reader#ben hargreeves imagine#ben hargreeves imagines#ben hargreeves smut#ben hargreeves fanfic#ben hargreeves fanfiction#ben hargreeves the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy imagines#the umbrella academy x reader#the umbrella academy smut#the umbrella academy fanfic#the umbrella academy fanfiction
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|Breakdown’s & Bugatti’s| M|
PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (Ft a hint of Tae & Jin)
About- Namjoon just does what he has to do to keep you ....calm while at a charity gala!
OR:
CHAPTER 1 : MEET THE KIMS OF NEW YORK
**WARNINGS: **Semi public sex, Fingering (F receiving), Minimal prep, Light dirty talk, Light spit play, Choking, Spanking, Gags (Makeshift), Non protective sex (Creampie), light overstimulation
WC: 7K (This is a sneak peak so it’s 1.2k)
NON SEXUAL WARNINGS: (Fictional political background) Hints at recreational drug use (Molly) Brief mentions of death, father issues, and panic attacks/anxiety (All of these topics are super minor but again, out of respect I’m mentioning them)
The remaining “characters” will be introduced at a later date
This chapter hints at various future plots
This is almost 2 years old, I reworked it recently
If you’ve been following me for a while this is the original draft for “Club First Royale”
FINAL NOTE: I haven’t been active in damn hear a year ( 8 months) So I am posting sneak peeks intentionally! No, not to torture you guys lol but to get my blog flowing again because I’m sure people aren’t really checking in anymore
OT7 ALTERNATING STORYLINES
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FINALLY, fuck 36737 years later you spot your Kim!
Standing there in all his glory, in a Valentino slim fit navy blue suit, the jacket appearing to have some sort of paisley print, opting against a tie. Leaving his crisp white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, teasing at his broad carnalized chest as he makes his way from the bar. Heading over to the table, which has an empty seat waiting right beside him with your name written all over it...literally!
Purposely dodging the old lady to your left in a coat that would have PETA ready to throw hands! Gaudy diamonds, terrible Botox, and smelled as if she showered in an entire bottle Chanel No. 5!
Yeah, no, sorry, not in the mood for another meet and greet right now!
“Joonie” Squeals from your lips once you’re in close enough proximity, his dark piercing eyes cut over to meet yours. A playful smirk tugging on those sinfully thick lips of his, accompanied by those disrespectful ass dimples!
“There she is!” Eyes dripping with warmth, as he ushered you in with open arms ,and in these types of situations, Namjoon felt like home, he was your safe space. “You look fuckin good” The words hushed into your hair in a tenor meant for your ears and your ears only! A hint of something a little more than just friendly playing on his tongue.
A small little “Thank you” leaves your lips, and if I didn't know any better I’d think the compliment made you a little flustered.
Namjoon was the definition of Ocean arm’s and goddamn if you didn't just love how big this man was! It literally felt like he was hiding you from the entire universe when he has you nuzzled into his frame! The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 20 seconds in all actuality but god you needed it!
Face flush to his chest, wrapping your arms firm around his waist, letting your eyes flutter shut briefly, a deep slow exhale flooded through your body. Inhaling the musky yet sweet scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma, which has grown to become a calming mechanism over the years.
“You had me worried for a minute…” Placing a quick kiss in your hair, that you would have missed if you blinked but again, your in public soo...
Palms soothing up and down your back gently, as he breathed into your hair , pulling back a little so there was some form of personal space between the two of you.
“Your late, even for you princess...I know you started early, I got your live(Instagram) notification, so what happened?” Head clocked to the side as he appraises you and fuck, the bass in his voice still has you all types of fucked up! Glancing over your shoulder briefly before leaning up to place a kiss on the hinge of his jaw, that tittered the line of passing as an “innocent” greeting.
“I’m fine Jonnie it’s nothing, we just got held up in glam.., Ariel was flying in from Miami...we got a late start” Gaze intentionally diverted as you welcomed yourself to his glass of Scotch instead. Damn near inhaling the entire drink as we speak and you hated dark liquor so that alone let him know something was up!
Merely resisting the urge to smooth out the crease he felt forming between his brows, a dry snort left his lips, rolling his eyes in response to your blatant stubbornness. Nevertheless, always the gentleman, reaching down to pull out your chair so you could take a seat next to him. Mirroring your actions just moments prior, quickly scoping out his surroundings before he brought those plush pillows he calls lips a centimeter away from your ear.
Fuck.
“Right, so I'm just going to assume you don’t wanna talk about it right now! Or wait I’m sorry, have you just upgraded to insulting my intelligence straight to my damn face?”
Brow quirked inquisitively, and you could literally feel every word, tone taking on a hint of seriousness the more he talked. Namjoon licked his lips and the tip skimmed the edge of your ear and I - .
“For one you smell like an entire bottle of Heidsieck, I can almost taste the nicotine on your tongue and you've been crying I know you. ”
Pulling back just enough to glare down at you above the brim of his glasses, which he always wore low along his bridge. Eyes daring you to look him in the face a lie again, teasing his fingers through his chocolate locks. Styled in the perfect semi grown out undercut, the top a little on the long side, while the sides tapered into a crisp fade. Sideburns outlining that extremely understated jawline of his! Though you had to admit the yellow gold diamonds dawning his ears were kinda stealing the show right now!
“So again, do you just not wanna talk about it right now? Or have you forgotten that I have an IQ of 137, and can smell bullshit from here all the way to Gangnam!?”
You're having very vivid day daydreams of your hand wrapped around this man's windpipe and for once it’s not even remotely sexual!
Blatantly ignoring the strong twitch within Namjoon’s jaw and simply saying “I’m here, aren’t I!?” Face stoic, tone flat as all hell, in case it wasn’t clear that this conversation was more than over, you opted to eye his bourbon glazed salmon until he got the hint.
“Oh, for fucks sake! ” Hissed from his lips without a lick of heat behind them, because as quiet as it’s kept ,your lowkey Joon’s baby, which is why he cares to begin with! Picking up a piece on his fork before essentially shoving it into your hand ”Your lucky I can’t have your ass getting sick on me tonight, we still have like, 3 hours left of this bullshit.”
More like he just can’t tell you no, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night! Sliding his plate in your direction, completely giving up on eating at this point, he knew you needed it more anyway! Finally, starting to feel your mix of poisons hit your system so you knew you needed to even it out with a little substance. I mean yeah, you could have just ordered your own plate but meh, this was easier!
Namjoon started busying himself on his phone while you ate, scrolling through a couple contacts until he landed on a contact labeled under “Kookie”.
“Even though you were only late because “Your glam team ran late” There were air bunnies involved, and again you just really wanna choke his ass! “What are you thinking tonight? He’s actually on his way here right now, but he already has a couple options on him...”
The question was vague and for damn good reason...considering…
However you knew exactly what he was referring too.., and thank god!
Speaking over a mouth full of salmon, sounding utterly exasperated! “Honestly, any fucking thing at this point…”
Namjoon hums thoughtfully, sucking on a Bourbon soaked Ice cube “He’ll be here in 20, I just went with Smartees…always a safe bet...”
Smartees, candy, Vitamin -E, Molly... Estcasy...it’s all one and the same, just depends on who you ask!
He leans back in, apparently keen on whispering tonight. “Maybe, if your a good girl and eat enough we can split one before we leave...chill you out a little bit. '' Voice thick and heady, lips curling into a grin with a hint of something wicked playing on the ends, as his fingers idly ghost over your forearm. Giving it a light squeeze and regardless of how innocent the skin-ship may seem to the naked eye, you’re well aware of all the underlying innuendos behind it!
You make a noise of agreement, trying your damnedest to ignore the slight chill coursing up your spine at the pet name. Though before you could even dwell, Namjoon was sliding back in with another update, this one however wasn't as...arousing…to say the least!
“Fox 2’s been waiting for you to get here by the way...since the event was put together by council and all. They've been wanting to talk to us together about the fundraiser, just the same shit as last year.”
Waving his hand dismissively idly twirling the various pieces of Bvlgari around his fingers, seemingly un-phased while you on the other hand...release the most exasperated huff! Reclining against your seat, eyes rolling to the back of your head in 30 different directions! Yeah, It comes with the territory, you know this, hints Namjoons reaction, or lack thereof! But fuck you just really weren’t in the mood to do press tonight, It’s literally physically exhausting to pretend that you weren’t just PISSED!
“Of -fuckin- course they do!” Stabbing your mashed potatoes in a way that's... somewhat concerning…
“Baby.” It was a warning, though his voice sat barley above a whisper, his tone was crystal! Eyes cutting in your direction briefly before dropping back down to his phone….
You didn't have it in you to argue, there’s no way around this anyway, fuck it! “What -the-fuck-ever!” Sliding the half empty plate aside “Well, you wanna just get it out of the way now? Because I’m really not in the mood for-”
“Y/n..oh my god! Hi, honey how are you!? You look beautiful as always…” Suddenly there was a human, a human wearing the wrong shade of foundation kissing your cheek. A human by the name of Caroline, one of the local news anchors...clearly her damn ears were ringing.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi guys, that’s all she wrote, well kinda, actually she finished it like 16 months ago lol but that’s all she wrote for now I guess....
**_
_****Love you...see ya soon!!**
***SIDE NOTE, MY FRIEND MADE THE TWITTER EDIT SO DON’T ASK LOL IDK ****
UPDATE: HEADCANONS FOR THE KIM BOYS/OC
HEADCANONS
#Namjoon#namjoon smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#namjoon au#kim namjoon#kim namjoon smut#kim namjoon x reader#bts#bts smut#bts au#bts x reader#kim namjoon x you#kpop#kpop smut#kpop au
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valentine’s day + stray kids ✧
the enablers: @wingkkun by virtue of their existence and @thepixelelf bc of her @newskynet valentine’s day prompt list (which can be found here! check it out :D) anyway you can blame them for my word vomits tonight tomorrow <3 happy early valentine’s day and I hope you enjoy these blurbs!
pairing: stray kids x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)
wc: 3.5k (total)
genre: fluff, lots of fluff, university!au
triggers: cursing
golcha version | the boyz version
SKZ Scenarios Masterlist | SKZ Drabbles Masterlist
1. “shit, what day is it again?”
when chan opens the door to a beaming you, he has no idea what’s going on. he still has headphones around his neck, there are definitely bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept in maybe close to twenty hours, and there is definitely something important that he’s forgetting, judging by the nonplussed expression that has now slid over your face.
“chan, when did you sleep last night?” you ask, stepping into his dorm. you’re holding something behind your back that chan’s craning his neck to see, but you catch sight and twist away. “hey, no looking.”
the knowledge that you have something is more than enough, though, to get his overly tired brain actually thinking. his eyes narrow. what the heck is he forgetting -
oh.
oh no.
chan scrambles around for his phone as you look over, eyebrows rising as he pats his pockets. “shit, what day is it again?”
you hold up your own phone, giving him an eyeful of your lock screen set to a picture of himself laughing into the camera. he isn’t focused on that, though - he’s focused on the words underneath the time that say “february 14, 2021.”
“oh my god, it’s valentine’s day.”
“no shit, sherlock.” you put a finger to his forehead and press hard. “i made reservations.”
“what? okay, no, i swear you didn’t tell me about this -”
“i didn’t, chan.” you smile, shaking your head. “it was supposed to be a surprise. and i knew you’d forget the day or something because you always do lose track of time - hey, don’t look at me that way, i even made a bet with minho on the way and i’m right - so i came early to force you to sleep for several hours before we go out.”
okay, that’s fair, but chan’s lips curve downward into a pout anyway. “i didn’t forget,” he protests. “well, i forgot today, but i still have something for you! i got it last week.” he looks around frantically, then drags a box out from underneath his bed. “here!”
a wide smile splits your face and you pull your own present from behind your back, a red-wrapped box that chan begins to open as you cuddle the teddy bear he’s handed over to you. “chan, you sap,” you say, words muffled in the bear’s fur. “god i love you.”
“and i love you too,” he replies, pulling out a box of his favorite candy. “kiss?”
laughing, you press your lips together once, twice before pulling away. “sleep time,” you announce. “no kisses until you’ve gotten at least three hours.”
chan all but lunges into bed, trapping you with him between his arms. “sleeping now,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt. “goodnight.”
“good afternoon, more like.” you smile anyway, stroking his hair. “but good night.”
18. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”
minho is about to lose his shit in this tiny hospital bed with the sterile white sheets and curtains barring sunlight from streaming on his body. back when his ankle wasn’t broken to high hell, he really hadn’t given the sun enough appreciation. after three days of almost zero movement, though, he swears he’ll actually go outside voluntarily once he gets out of here.
the door opens. a head peeks in.
ah. there’s his daily dose of human sunshine.
a smile slides onto minho’s face as you come in, arms full of snacks and flowers. you place a bouquet of red roses on the little table beside his bed and dump the snacks onto his sheets. “happy valentine’s day, idiot boyfriend who broke his ankle just three days before today.”
minho scowls. “it’s not like i tried to.”
“i know. even you’re not that dumb.” you pat his head mockingly, laughing as minho’s scowl deepens. “sit up, idiot. here, i’ll help.”
he allows his frown to turn into a grudging smile as you help him sit properly in bed, careful not to jar his ankle before passing him one of the bags of chocolates in his lap. “jisung gave this to me for you and asked me to ask you if you would be his valentine.”
minho pauses in opening the bag. “what.”
“jisung for you.” you laugh. “his partner was right next to him laughing their ass off. try the chocolates.”
he picks one out. puts it in his mouth. chews. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”
“what - how the fuck do you know what chalk tastes like?”
“i don’t, what the fuck? i just imagine it would taste like this.”
you snort. “so my boyfriend first breaks his ankle dancing three days before we valentine’s, and on this romantic day i learn he’s definitely eaten chalk.” you sigh, snatching a bag of gummies from the sheets. “what a day.”
“i don’t eat chalk!”
“bet.”
he opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off with a kiss. “eat your chalk chocolate,” you direct when you pull away. “or jisung will get upset.”
“ugh fine.” he rolls his eyes. “but i’m only listening to you because i love you.”
“cheeseball.” you smile. “i love you too.”
20. “babe.” / “since when do you call me babe?”
grinning, jisung picks up the bouquet of roses you were about to hand him before falling to the ground in laughter. “these for me?”
“no, they’re for my valentine.” you snatch them back, still wheezing. “which was going to be you, but you ditched me for minho, so now i need to find someone else.”
“aw, come on.” jisung pouts, pursing his lips actively even as you try to hide the smile on your face by turning away. “y/n! y/n. y/nnnnnnnnn. y/n, look at me. please? y/n. babe.”
“what the - jisung - since when do you call me babe?” your half disgusted, half amused face sends him into hysterics as he glomps you in a hug, laughing into your shoulder. “hey, sung! get away! you’re drooling on my clothes!”
“am not!” jisung pulls away, trying to pout but laughing too hard to do so. you just looked so fucking funny. “and what’s wrong with me calling you babe?”
“don’t do it again.” you push his shoulder. “do not. you won’t like the consequences.”
“consequences?”
“one, you don’t get these flowers. i’ll put them in my own room.” you wave the bouquet in front of him. “two, i give chan the all clear to play ‘wow’ on his campus radio station.”
“you wouldn’t dare -”
“three, no kisses for a week.”
jisung falls to his knees. “no, no, y/n, my beautiful and wonderful significant partner, i will never call you babe again, please don’t sentence me the barren world of no kisses for a week just because of my idiot mouth -”
“jesus christ, jisung, get up. you’re making a scene.” you laugh anyway, pulling him up before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. “i was just joking. but please don’t call me babe if you don’t want me to cringe to the next dimension.”
“done deal.” jisung holds his out his hands. “flowers?”
you roll your eyes, handing them over. he breathes in their scent, smiling widely. “they’re so pretty!” then he looks up and winks. “but not as pretty as you.”
at that, you laugh again, crushing the bouquet as you wrap him in a hug. “i love you so much, jisung,” you murmur into his ear.
his arms reach out to loop around your waist as he pulls you closer. “i love you too,” he replies, smiling.
for a moment, you two only stand, finding peace in each other’s warmth. then jisung’s mouth runs once more.
“you know, i wrote my lyrics for ‘wow’ thinking of you.”
“do you have to ruin every moment?”
14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”
changbin doesn’t even bother to reply to the picture jisung’s just sent of the flowers his partner gave him. he’s too nervous, his stomach literally fluttering as he stops his motorcycle by the curb and wheels it into the shop.
“hi, welcome, what can i - changbin?” you raise an eyebrow. “did you seriously bang up your motorcycle on valentine’s day?”
changbin’s ears turn bright red. he knows it even if he can’t see them. you think he always comes here because something else has magically gone wrong with his motorcycle, but what you don’t know is that he’s been pretending things are wrong with the vehicle for months at this point just so he has an excuse to see you.
and now it’s valentine’s day. the day he chose to fess up and admit how he feels and ask you on a date.
heck.
“nothing’s... broken.” changbin scratches his neck. “uh...”
both of your eyebrows are now high up on your forehead. “so why are you here?”
“i...” he coughs, feeling his ears flare even hotter. “i wanted - i wanted to ask if you -” he looks down, unable to look at you. “i wanted to ask if you would go out with me today. like. on a date.”
silence. he doesn’t have the courage to look up.
“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”
changbin shrinks behind his motorcycle. holy fuck, this was the worst idea, you’re about to reject him and his heart is going to shatter -
then you step forward, place a hand on the vehicle. “okay, that came out wrong.” you tip his chin up gently so he’s forced to look into your soft, teasing eyes. “what i meant is that i’d love to go on a date with you today. i just didn’t expect you to ask me out on valentine’s day. didn’t seem like a very you thing to do.” you pause. “though i guess considering that song you played for me last time, it isn’t that surprising.”
oh, god. on track. changbin wrote that thinking of you.
“wait, seriously?”
he really just said that out loud. changbin groans, slapping his forehead. “why am i dumb,” he mumbles into his hand.
you laugh, peeling his hand away with grease-covered fingers. “you’re not dumb, bin. just sweet.” as he melts from the use of your nickname, you wave your greasy palm in front of his face. “let me go wash and tell seungmin to close up early. i’ll be out in a second.” you grin. “looking forward to whatever you have planned.”
(later, when you wrap your now clean arms around changbin’s waist on his motorcycle, he smiles so wide it feels like his face is going to split.)
25. “i love you.”
with a relieved sigh, seungmin locks up the shop, wiping grease-stained fingers on a towel. despite the fact that he mostly only handles the register, dirt still manages to get everywhere, even when he tries to be careful.
doesn’t matter. seungmin likes his job, likes it even though it’s a little hard to be independent from his parents after so many years of living off their credit card. the freedom is sweet, though - now he can learn what he wants, do what he wants, and best of all...
now he can date whom he wants.
seungmin smiles, running up to his dorm so he has just enough time to change and shower before meeting you. he cleans up quickly before grabbing the singular rose in a glass on his desk and racing downstairs once more, hair still slightly damp, to meet you in front of the building.
god, you’re beautiful, standing against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. in the moment that you don’t notice him walking out the door, he runs forward, smiling, before engulfing you in a back hug.
“hey - oh, seungmin.” he can hear the smile in your voice as you clutch his hands hanging around your shoulders. “you scared me!”
“sorry,” he says, pulling away to spin you around. god, looking into your laughing face, seungmin knows everything was worth it. he may have lived in the lap of luxury before, attending parties every other weekend and drinking the finest champagne while dressed in the most resplendent clothing (courtesy of the kim family empire), but luxury doesn’t mean much when he was missing real, true love, right? you were one of the first, other than hyunjin, to see through his cold facade and break into the warm heart underneath.
as he hands you the rose, he’s glad, so glad that you gave him the courage to go head to head with his parents for the first time, to finally break away from their strangling control over every bit of his life. what did he need parties and designer clothing and jewels for, anyway? he’s still living, still able to support himself even if it means a little more work. and even if he’s tired, he has your lips to come back to, every day.
“i love you,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, sweetly. “i really do, y/n.”
“so do i,” you breathe, smiling against his lips in reply.
12. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”
hyunjin kind of wants to hit you, significant other or not. judging by your shit-eating grin, you probably know exactly how he feels, but you keep your eyes as soft and innocent as possible. “no, i don’t know what day it is, hyunjin. isn’t it just february 14?”
“y/n.”
“hyunjin.”
he groans, sinking dramatically to the ground. “it’s valentine’s day.”
“oh. right.” you adopt a thinking expression, raising your eyes to the sky. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”
“y/n!”
“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” you finally laugh, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the university quad. “hey, get up, hyunjin. you’re going to get your designer clothes dirty.”
shit, he is. hyunjin accepts your hand, dusting grass bits off of his shirt. “you’re so mean,” he whines. “to think i had a whole evening planned and all, just for you to pretend to forget the entire day.”
“ah, but i didn’t forget. i only pretended to.” you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “and to prove it, i have something for you! close your eyes.”
eagerness and apprehension flooding his veins, hyunjin shuts his eyes. for a moment, he hears you digging around in your bag, and then you put something in his hand. “here!”
opening his eyes, hyunjin looks down to see a pair of elegant earrings in his palm. you made them, definitely - he can see the tiny mark of your initials etched in the metal of one earring, his initials on the other - and he smiles wide, so wide, all of your previous transgressions forgotten in this moment. “i love them,” he says, already unfastening the hoops currently in his ears to put the new ones in.
“i thought you would. hey, let me help.” your fingers take the earrings, deftly inserting one into each ear. “perfect.”
“i have something for you two, but you’ll get it later.” hyunjin pockets his old earrings before taking your hand. “right now, i’m taking you on a date.”
“what, i have no say in this?” your eyes sparkle.
“nope!” hyunjin laughs, swinging your arms in the air. “come on, i swear the evening’s going to be a lot of fun.”
“i believe you.” you stop him to kiss him once, softly. “everything’s fun with you, hyunjin.”
15. “shut up and kiss me.”
with the brownie box in his hands almost empty, felix makes every effort to dodge anyone who knows for fear that they’ll ask for one of the last few treats left inside. hyunjin took like five earlier, jesus christ, even when felix warned him he was saving some for you. ungrateful brat.
thankfully, no one accosts him, and he makes it to your meeting place without interruption. there you already are, mindlessly twirling a bouquet of roses around in your fingers. as he approaches, you look up, and felix is (once again) blown away by the intensity of your smile.
some people liken him to the sun. others, with his freckles, compare him to the stars. both, though, felix thinks are more proper descriptors for you and your lovely grin that’s as bright as the sun and the stars combined.
“felix!” you stand as he comes closer, handing him the roses. he passes over the box of brownies and you screech in delight, taking off the lid and popping one of them into your mouth. “oh my god, it’s so good.”
“don’t talk with your mouth full,” felix scolds, smiling anyway. “do you only love me for my brownies?”
“maybe” is the cheeky reply. you laugh as felix reels in mock astonishment, placing a dramatic hand to his chest. “i’ve been betrayed,” he wheezes. “stabbed in the back by my one true love who turned traitor to our romance, how will i live -”
“hey, felix?”
he looks up. “hm?”
your eyes sparkle. “shut up and kiss me.”
your lips taste like chocolate, sweeter even than the brownie you just finished. felix puts his arms around you, rose petals brushing against your back as he holds you close, close, closer -
“oh my god.”
a familiar voice makes felix pull away from your lips as he turns around. “jeongin?”
“nope, nope, nope,” the younger boy chants, eyes fully closed. “i saw none of that, jesus christ, come on, let’s go -”
too late, felix notices the person standing next to his friend, eyes also screwed shut. a smirk rises on his face. that must be jeongin’s crush, he thinks as they race away, the crush he’s been sweating over asking out for the last few weeks.
“aw, man.” felix frowns, suddenly coming to a realization. “jeongin probably wanted to confess here.”
“he’ll do fine,” you laugh, tugging at his arm. “now get back here. we’re not finished.”
felix smiles, pulling you close once more. “no, we aren’t.”
6. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”
listen. jeongin did not need to see felix making out with his partner right before he was about to confess. not only did it completely ruin his plans to talk to you in the prettiest part of campus, but he also has an image seared into his mind that he really does not need.
“sorry,” he mutters, still unable to look at you.
“it’s fine.” jeongin can hear the second hand embarrassment in your voice. “it wasn’t your fault. uh.” you pause. “you said... you wanted to tell me something?”
right. jeongin squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the previous images from his brain. “yeah. i did. um.” he swallows, then forces himself to look into eyes that sparkle in the fading sunlight, eyes that he fell in love with so many months ago when you two first worked on that project together.
thankfully, his words don’t fail him. “i just wanted to say i like you a lot, y/n.” jeongin keeps looking at you, even though all he wants to do is run away screaming. “as in... i want to ask you out. if that’s okay with you.”
silence.
then you start giggling.
jeongin frowns. why -
“oh my god, jeongin.” you double over on the bench, laughing even harder. “i’m so sorry.”
his heart sinks as embarrassment begins to burn his ears. “if you don’t like me -”
“no, no!” you straighten, wiping your eyes. “no, it’s not about that. it’s just -” you snort - “oh my god, you wanted to ask me out in the garden, right? but felix was there, and... jesus christ. jeongin, i’m so sorry.”
his cheeks flare red, but he also lets out a major sigh of relief that your laughter wasn’t a rejection. “yeah,” he says, a grudging smile climbing onto his face. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”
you wipe your eyes again. “sorry for laughing. i didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. i’d actually love to go out with you.” you smile. “really.”
“well, thank god for that.” jeongin huffs, cheeks still hot. “or i would’ve gotten this for nothing.” he holds out a small teddy bear. “this is for you.”
“oh.” you take it, eyes turning soft. “oh. no one...” you swallow. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”
jeongin’s heart melts, it really does, seeing the slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hold the bear close. “thank you, jeongin.”
“you’re welcome,” he breathes, hardly able to find his words as the sun creates a stunning backdrop behind you as it begins to set. “happy valentine’s day, y/n.”
you smile wide, so wide. “happy valentine’s day, jeongin.”
#kpopscape#destinyverse#districtninewriters#nsnvalentine#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids chan#stray kids lino#stray kids lee know#stray kids minho#stray kids changbin#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids han#stray kids jisung#stray kids felix#stray kids seungmin#stray kids in#stray kids jeongin#fluff#drabbles#tw cursing#university!au#valentine's day blurbs#scriptura-delirus
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Hiii I saw your requests are open so can I request kenma and his newlywed wife accidentally eating a bunch of aphrodisiacs they got from kuroo as a prank wedding gift 👀and yk they have a longggg ahead of them (also lmao they didn’t know it was aphrodisiacs until they actually looked at the packaging dummies thought it were just candies)
“kuroo that is not a wedding present, it’s a death wish”
pairing: kenma kozume x female reader
cw: aged up, nsfw (female recieving oral, choking, fingering, hickies, fucking (obvs) and nipple play) , fluff, aprodisiacs and wedding night
word count: 2300+
a/n: hi guys, happy holidays to you all, hope you enjoy this fic, i probably wont be as active and once mid january hits ill be on hiatus because of exams, but hopefully i can put out a ton of fics so you all don’t go hungry
summary: in which kuroo offers you some sweets, not realising what it was, you and kenma eat them all with a long night ahead of the both of you, once kuroo calls and reveals the truth you realise how idiotic your husbands best friend is
↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist
The lights blared through the venue, the drinks in people’s hands as they tried to keep it afloat whilst dancing. One word to describe this wedding. Chaotic.
The wedding had been perfect, everything had worked out and you’d say that it was everything you and Kenma had dreamed of. With the wedding in full swing and the reception occurring where everybody let loose, you stood beside Kuroo talking about Kenma, who for the entire day hadn’t touched any sort of game. You were shocked and even told him if he didn’t like the dancing and partying, he could head up early and play a game.
He quickly refused and you assumed Kuroo had told him off if he dared even breath an air about any of his games. The wedding had had everything you had wanted, it was every brides dream to have such an over-the-top wedding. It was all down to the money that both you and Kenma had saved and especially Kenma’s because who wouldn’t want their future wife to have the fairy-tale wedding they wanted.
You sat at the bar, Kuroo talking as you saw Hinata and Kenma talking on the other side. Kuroo passed you a drink trying to not spill it on your reception dress, it was a lot more moveable and freeing than your ceremony dress. Kenma loved seeing you in it, his mouth in awe as you walked towards him and all he could see was his future.
You had of course cried but kept it undercover to not ruin your make up, all in all everything had worked out and seeing most of the drunk guests had made it all the better.
“Here, I got you some sweets.” Kuroo passed a packet of what looked like jellied sweets. “I know you haven’t eaten that much.”
He passed you the packet you shrugged taking a couple, “mmm these are nice, I’m going to give some to Kenma.”
He nods a smirk on his face which you ignore easily, you make your way through the guests, some congratulations which made you stop and eat even more sweets whilst conversing with them. You finally go to Kenma, a smile on his face with his long hair creeping down his suit, he had taken the tie off and unbuttoned the top buttons to show his collar.
It looked ever so pretty, so kissable, you giggled walking towards him, he raises an eyebrow just as you stop in front of him, “kitten, is everything all right?”
“Kuroo got me some sweets, have some?” You pushed the packet to his face, he shook his head before taking the bag putting it to his mouth, as he chewed the rest of them. “Hey, they were my sweets.”
You pouted but as soon as you touched his arm you felt a lust wash over you, he looked at you with kindness in his face before grabbing a hold of your jaw, bringing his mouth to your ear. “I never told you how beautiful you looked today.”
You laugh leaning against his body, “Baby, you’ve told me multiple times today.”
He gives a hefty laugh before taking your hand, “let’s get out of here.”
“You want to leave our own wedding early.”
He makes your jaw move to his neck; you comply kissing his neck occasionally. “It’s not leaving early, we’ll be back.”
You roll your eyes, letting him lead the way, you left the venue as quickly as you could, glad that the hotel was just opposite, it was fancy and way to flashy for anything small, but for your wedding night it was perfect.
The chilly air had hit your exposed arms, Kenma putting his suit jacket around. His smell lingered around you as you snuggled in the jacket, he took his key card from the pocket, his hands lingering on your waist. He smiled taking your hand to the elevator, standing behind you as he face went to your neck. In an instant, his lips lingered along your collar, moving up towards your jaw, your head arched to his shoulder, wanting more of his lips.
The door quickly opened, and he almost dragged you to the hotel room, it was perfect and big, and the bed looked comfortable enough for what was about to happen. He held your waist softly, before kissing you. His lips leaving the lingering taste of those sweets Kuroo had gotten you, he put you on the bed, taking the jacket off before slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
You giggled feeling intoxicated even without being drunk, a rush filled through you, you leant against your arms, watching his strip his shirt off, his chest on show for you. He didn’t say anything, going to the floor before moving your dress up and finding his face at your thighs.
“Ken…” You were about to speak but felt his hands attach to his inner thighs, encased in the fabric you couldn’t see his action, but the movement of your underwear was all you needed before you felt his tongue brush in the insides of your walls.
The slick already coming from your cunt, “already wet for me.” He murmurs before devouring you, you couldn’t speak, heavy moans flowing out for your mouth. “Kitten, moan for me.”
He continues to use his tongue inside of you, you wanted to grab onto his hair but used the next best thing, your legs twitching, crushing his head between your thighs. His movement was quick, and he kept his mouth on you, sucking your insides like some sort of drink. He kept on going at it, the lewd moans erupting from your mouth, before you felt the slick becoming heavier and heavier, knowing that you were about to cum.
“I’m…I’m going to c…cum.”
He sucks and eats you one more time before the cum fell out from your cunt, the way you felt his mouth try and capture the orgasm from your cunt, it gushed out and you felt some dribble down your thigh. He came out from under your dress, his face freshly wet. He smirked seeing your faint look already from only cumming once. “How many times should I make you cum tonight, kitten, lets make it a game.”
He kissed you again, you could taste your cum before he quickly helped you take the dress off. It fell easily, Kenma watching how your body looked and felt against his own. He began to speak as you were left in your bra, he slowly un did it, his fingers moving up and down your back. “If I make you cum three more times then I win.”
“Yes master.” You spoke with ease, the words falling out of your mouth. He wanted to make you feel everything tonight not just as his newlywed wife but as his future.
He grinned from ear to ear, he enjoyed the word it made him feel like a game master making the decisions and he was definitely making the shots tonight. He pushed you against the headboard, your body on show as he un did his trousers that had gotten tighter, the bulge prominent.
You took a deep breath watching as he encased his hands in a cage around your body. You felt ever so small against his frame, but he didn’t care he kissed you with pace again, his hands moving to your breasts, massaging and softly flicking his fingers against your hard nipples. “You’re going to be a good little kitten for me.”
“Yes.” You moaned, it was heaven in his ears, he wanted to keep hearing you moan, especially his name.
He quickly removed his boxers, a lack of warning as he pushed his cock between your thighs, “my little kitten.” You felt his body press against your own, the way his cock jolted inside of your cunt.
“Kenma.” You moaned as his thick cock filled your entire cunt, you felt suffocated but loved it, his lips pressing to your neck and chest, your own hands moving to his soft long hair. You grabbed at it tugging as he began to thrust, it was quicker and faster almost needy like the first time you had ever had sex.
His thrusts going deeper and deeper each time, your legs almost wrapping behind his own. You just wanted to encase him, make him go deeper, you moaned his name continuously, “come on kitten, being a g…good girl.” He moaned out himself, his continuous blabbering as his pace quickened even more.
“I want more.” You whisper in his ear, the three words making his thrust deeper inside of you. You could feel him hit you, almost see the indent in your stomach, even after the continuous moans his pace remained consistent. He normally would be able to go for at least two rounds, but the amount of energy he was exerting made him believe he was able to go for twenty if you wanted too.
You kissed his neck, sucking at his pale skin, you loved how easily it was to mark his skin and under the soft candles that surrounded the room. You felt in heaven, he moved one of his fingers to your clit, playing with it before feeling the slick, he brought it in his fingers before shoving it in your mouth, his thrusts quickening as he knew you were ready to cum.
You sucked on his fingers, feeling filthy and dirty but enjoying it all. He loved the way your tongue would swirl around his fingers, sucking at it, the knot in your stomach was beginning to untie and quickly you heard Kenma speak, “cumming so quickly, kitten, let’s make you cum another time.”
He mutters, having not cummed at all, just wanting to bring you pleasure, his thrusts began to become sloppier as he felt all the cum from you gush out of your sweet cunt. It dripped down your thighs, but he kept on going. “You’re going to cum with me next time.” You nod not being able to speak, his pace quickening again.
He grabbed a hold of your throat, his fingers moving away from your mouth, going to your hair. He brushed it to the side, admiring you whilst thrusting back and forth. His hand on your throat tightened as you felt more entrapped in his body. You moaned whilst he admired your body, your face, how pretty his wife was.
“You’re going to make your husband cum, aren’t you.” He was almost taunting you whilst up in your ear, he bit your ear lobe, another moan engraving the air.
The continuous moans crept out from your mouth, the growls and grunts from his own, he wanted to win, and he would do anything to do so. But the quick pace he had, the furious way you could almost imagine the marks around your throat and how his hand moved to play with your nipples.
You felt bruised and fucked to the core…literally. His thrusts became sloppier your first two times cumming already making it easier for his cock to stretch you out even more. He moved his mouth to your ear, you could feel his heavy breath against you, feel him moan your name. “You’re gonna make me cum, good girl.”
The praise made your insides warm up, but you could feel yourself cum again. “I need to cum.” You seethe out, he smirks looking at you directly, his hand grabbing your jaw to face you.
“Cum with me.” He whispers as you both cum together, the feeling of the slick falling down your thighs, the way your insides felt filled with the white liquid. “My perfect wife.”
You felt giddy but tired, “I win.” He praises himself.
“You win.” You murmur, he had collapsed beside you, his arm wrapping around your naked body, sweat and cum filling the air as your head laid on his chest.
You felt the sound of his phone go off, he muttered some profanities, moving his hand to where his jacket had been chucked on the bed. Taking his phone, he saw Kuroo’s name pop up. “I don’t want to go back.” You spoke tiredly.
You closed your eyes as Kenma answered the call, putting it on speaker. “Oi, did you two have some fun.”
You smirked knowing Kuroo was teasing the gamer boy. “Fuck off Kuroo.”
“Wow, it must have been amazing, is Y/n sore.” You laughed wanting to speak but unable to, Kenma’s hands moved to your hair playing with the few sweaty strands against your forehead.
“Kuroo I real…”
Kuroo quickly interrupted you could almost feel his smirk on the other line, “did you two eat all those sweets?”
“Yeah, so?” You speak wastefully.
He laughs before passing the phone to Bokuto, “Oi, Bokuto, they ate all the sweets, idiots.”
You and Kenma were both confused, he went to grab his jacket trying to find the packet which he had shoved down his pocket. He looked at the label pissed off, “surprise it’s a wedding present.”
Kuroo laughed as Bokuto was in hysterics, “what is it?” You questioned confused but content with your husband.
“We got you them, we thought you wouldn’t eat them all duh.” Kuroo laughed out, Kenma passed the packet and shock was ridden on your face.
“Kuroo that is not a wedding present, it’s a death wish.” You scolded out even though the night was the best wedding sex you’d ever had.
“I’m going to kill you.” Kenma seethed out.
“No you’re not, now go have some more fun.” Kuroo hanged up the call, Kenma chucking his phone before rubbing his face, he looked down at how perfect his wife was, and he didn’t care that Kuroo had gotten aphrodisiacs sweets for the two of you.
“Round two?” He smirked out.
You laughed, moving your body up, to reach his face. “You want to beat 3 times.”
“Yeah, I haven to become the ultimate games master.” You laughed encasing his lips in a soft kiss, it wasn’t filled with lust or need, it was your future and you both knew the rest of your lives had started. Together.
i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x
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#kozume kenma x reader#kozume kenma x y/n#kozume kenma x you#kozume x you#kozume x reader#kozume x y/n#kenma x reader#kenma x y/n#kenma x you#kenma kozume#kenma kozume x you#kenma kozume x reader#kenma kozume x y/n#haikyuu kenma kozume#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#haikyuu kenma#hq kenma#bakughoex#kenma kozume fluff#hq kenma x reader#hq kenma kozume
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Of Cold Soba and Rose-gold Vows (Todoroki Shoto x Fem!Reader)
Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x reader
Warnings: ANGST, mature themes, suggestive content, fluff
A/N: ughhh its finally here, honestly this took way too long to finish because im a lazy cunt but here it is finally! Hope you enjoy!
Also feel free to request stuff!
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
The footfalls of heeled shoes propagated throughout his office, each echoing step flooding his chest with dread and accelerating the previously calm rhythm of his heartbeat. Three consecutive knocks sounded before her sickly-sweet voice followed suit. “I have more paperwork for you, sir,”
Despite the lump accumulating in his throat, he managed to croak out a response, ushering his secretary into his office. The door clicked open, closing shut after she stepped in. He didn’t dare lift his eyes from the sheets of paper lining his desk, grasping on what little self-control was left in his morale. A hefty stack of paper was slammed right in his field of vision, causing him to snap his head up, ready to berate his assistant on her lack of professionalism. The lecture he was prepared to give her was shoved to the back burner in his mind once he made eye contact with her figure. Shit. A dress shirt way too tight around her bust, the first couple buttons left open and a body-hugging pencil skirt, accentuating her already exaggerated curves. Fuck. He winced at the audible gulp he couldn’t help but take, hoping she didn’t notice his frazzled reaction. His fleeting attention was brought back to her face, mentally cursing himself when he caught sight of her smug visage. She definitely noticed.
She took his silence as compliance, deciding it was finally time after so many failed trials to raise the stakes a bit more. Her self-satisfied attitude only augmented as she made her way around her boss’s workbench, stalking the way his shoulders tensed and the formation of sweat beads on his temples. With the pen now long forgotten, his hands clenched into fists atop his desk, two contradicting thoughts wreaking havoc through his conscious. He felt her feminine stature press into his back, her dainty fingers hugging his broad shoulders, compressing the taut muscle. All hell broke loose in the corners of his mind, his vision blurring at the peripherals. He could almost hear his subconscious screaming at him to push her away, to do something! But right now, he could only focus on the soft touch encasing his shoulders, the short breaths enchanting his ears.
“You seem a little tense, sir,”
Todoroki was well aware of the flirtatious lilt in her words, well aware of how wrong this was, but he couldn’t help but silently indulge in the prohibited intimacy. His resolve was rapidly cracking, her heinous antics doing a number on him. He’d resisted so many times before (her little game of cat and mouse lasting way longer than he should’ve allowed) but something about this moment propelled him to the edge of caving in. Just as he was about to pluck the thinning thread holding his restraint together and finally fall victim to her adulterated wishes, his phone rang, snapping him out of his indecent trance, giving him an exit out of this situation and he damn near bolted out of it. He wasn’t a religious guy, yet he still internally thanked whatever higher being was looking down at him right now.
He took the cue handed to him by the heavens gladly, his scarred hand darting out to clutch his cellular device. Urging his frisky secretary out with the excuse of taking this phone call, he watched as a sour expression overtook her features. She clearly wasn’t pleased about this, making it a point to stomp her way out, slamming the door behind her retreating figure. With her presence far away from his personal space, he let out a breath he’d been holding for way too long, taking a moment to steady his pulse. Mismatched eyes tiredly descending onto the device that had saved him, sliding his finger across the screen to accept the incoming call.
“Pro-hero: Shoto, we need your backup right now,”
The villain he was called in to capture had caused a ruckus in the city’s mall, one thing lead to another and devastating damage had been dealt to the city square. The villain was arrested with the help of the many Pro-heroes on sight, Shoto doing most of the dirty work with little to no harm inflicted to the surrounding area. Not many civilians were injured and there were no fatalities, the rest was smooth sailing from there (aside from a little squabble with a certain explosive hero claiming he had stolen the last blow, which Shoto honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck about). He couldn’t wait to take a shower, clock in and call it a day.
The hero carved his way through his agency, muscle memory dragging him to his office while taking off various support items during the short walk. He paused in his steps when a dire thought crossed his mind. Would she still be here? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to get some alone time with him by staying well past her work hours. And if she was here, what would he do? He wouldn’t know how to respond after what happened earlier that afternoon. Whatever fucked up odds were in his favor for the second time that day as he didn’t hear a single noise in the agency, save for a lone janitor mopping the floor. Relief brought him back down to earth and away from his anxious thoughts. He briskly made his way into a stall, thoroughly enjoying the cold water enveloping his skin.
While under the showerhead, his thoughts ran amuck. That afternoon had been a close call, he despised himself because he knew that had his phone stayed silent, he would have indulged in the disgusting fantasies she’d created. A concoction of guilt and self-deprecation settled deep in his gut, he knew he had to stop these risky incidents, it wasn’t right. But every time he found himself ready to pull the plug and repent, she lured him back in like a sailor to a siren’s song. These sordid happenings had to come to an end, he knew that like the back of his hand, he just didn’t know how to stop luxuriating in the bittersweet taste of this forbidden fruit. He briefly contemplated firing her, frankly her skills weren’t even all that awe inducing, he could easily find a less problematic, more efficient replacement for her. But the wicked part of his being quickly squashed that option, even though he was fully aware that it was the correct option, the right thing to do.
The half and half Pro shut off the faucet, cutting his train of thought short in the process, and stepped out of the stall into the locker room. What was supposed to be a nice quelling of his worries had only spiked his self-hatred up a couple notches. Diligently drying off his candy cane hued strands, he could only hope that his mind would ease up with time.
By the time he’d made it to his surprisingly humble apartment, he’d relaxed enough to not look like he had a stick shoved up his rectum. All his tranquility was defenestrated the second he heard the voice that had been causing him so much inner turmoil the past few weeks.
“Welcome home, Shoto.”
The words that would typically soothe him, now caused him immeasurable pain. The guilt he’d been able to muffle, now ringing louder than any alarm ever could in his brain. Oh, how badly he wanted to tug you by the waist, desperately hold you against his larger frame. Yet Shoto couldn’t bring himself to do that, hell he couldn’t even meet your eyes, too afraid that he’ll taint your being with his grimy hands. The shame welling up was eating him alive, that vile scene playing on repeat before his heterochromatic irises as he tried to match your stare, a singular thought plaguing him. You don’t deserve this; he doesn’t deserve you.
He hadn’t been expecting you to be at home as you usually be snoring peacefully in bed right now. The uneven timing between both your careers had made it near impossible to spend time together, but you’ve coped with it throughout your relationship.
“Sho, you okay?” He was pummeled back to reality when he heard your concerned voice, lord knows he didn’t deserve your sympathy. He managed a small smile and a kiss to your forehead.
“‘M’ fine, just tired. Long day at work.” Was his simple response, leaving out all the details that would surely bar him from sleep that night. You hummed lightly, enjoying the sensation of his puckered lips on your forehead, which had become quite scarce lately.
“I made dinner, your favorite. You want some?” The hopeful glint in your stare amplified the hurt in his chest. How could he do this to you? Shoto didn’t take long to decline, ignominy brutally killing his appetite. He resigned to bed with you in tow, he could practically sense the disappointment radiating off you, but he wouldn’t be able to bear looking at your face a moment longer.
This has been the formulaic dynamic of your relationship recently; he’d leave early, hurl himself at work in hopes of avoiding any interaction with the two causes of conflict in his life then arrive late into the night, either to find you cocooned with all the blankets in bed or on the rare occasion that you were awake, he’d forgo dinner and b-line it for the bed. The distance between you made you perturbed. Sure, you saw the amazing work he does daily on the news (and you were the proudest and loudest of his fans, supporting him from day one unconditionally), but that didn’t mean he had to marginalize your existence for the sake of his hero career. Besides, this only became a problem recently, you tried to brainstorm any shifts or events that could have birthed this unreasonable drift between the two of you, but you came up with nothing, unaware that what had caused the drift wasn’t an event, rather a person.
All sleep eluded him that night, sleepless and cloaked in despair. His mind going back to its chaotic state. He didn’t know why he was enabling his secretary’s inappropriate behavior, maybe due to the lack of intimacy between you two? No, he couldn’t lie to himself, he was painfully aware that he was the one to cause the shortage of affection in your relationship. Todoroki didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just stop her like any good-natured, faithful boyfriend would. No matter how hard he berated himself, he could never find the will to stop wallowing in her passion, the passion of a woman that wasn’t you. God, how pathetic he was. He, at the very least, prided himself in being able to reject her advances up until now, but he knew that was the bare minimum of what he should do, but what he didn’t know was much scarier in contrast. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to turn her down. He watched the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, which eventually lulled his mind into a turbulent slumber.
Todoroki woke up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning, as per usual, yawning while he went through the motions of his morning routine. Now fully dressed and presentable, he paused beside your side of the bed. His cold knuckles brushed over your face, smoothing some of your follicles away to get a better look at your expression. Even in your sleep, you leaned into his touch, longingly seeking out his comforting, cool caresses with a soft, dopey smile. His heart stuttered violently, both with mirthful adoration and overwhelming penitence. With that, he abruptly halted the loving contact and headed towards his agency.
His day had been going pleasantly for the most part, a fairly easy patrol with some small-fry villains here and there, and barely any run ins with his dreaded secretary. All was looking well, he could finish paperwork and surprise you with an early visit, you’d absolutely love that! At least, that was the plan until she came barging into his office. His eyes expanding as he took in her disheveled figure. Her top buttons all undone, giving him an ample view of her cleavage, she had ditched the thigh-high stockings deciding to go bare-legged, her pencil skirt skin-tight around her curves and he could have sworn it was hitched up a bit. She wasn’t messing around this time. He prayed, begged for a way out like what had happened last time, yet he could somehow tell that wasn’t going to happen. Fate had already dealt its cards, giving him chance after chance, and now he was all out of chances, all out of luck. He gulped in preparation of what would come, for better or worse.
Meanwhile, you were sat at home, with a laptop in your clutches. After typing out a few overly formal and redundant emails, you stretched your arms above your head, hearing a satisfying pop. Unlocking your phone, your eyes scanned the number displayed on the lock screen. 5:32 PM. Shoto had informed you that he would be arriving early, the mere thought bringing a smile to your face. Your attention diverted from the numbers on your device to the background picture, a picture of you and Shoto on the beach, your lips caressing his cheek as he held onto the phone, a serene smile lighting up his expression. You missed those days, you knew you had to have a talk with him about the direction of your relationship, you just didn’t know when. You’d rarely see him throughout the day. And when you did, he was either too exhausted to function or already knocked out in bed. Your faith was firmly planted in him, it really was, yet you couldn’t help but speculate why his absence was more frequent these days. Shaking those thoughts away, you head to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
Shoto eyed her with a mixture of anticipation and fear, the way her hips swayed purposefully, her petite fingers curling around the lock and clicking it shut. She stalked her way over to his desk, leaning over it and bringing herself face-to-face with the object of her desires. Her pride was wounded way too many times to count, each rejection only increasing her sense of entitlement. She knew that her boss wasn’t single, he had a goddamn picture of you on his desk, yet that didn’t hinder her in the slightest. In fact, she took it as a challenge, at first it was fun to get a reaction out of him but his consistent refusal to her advances was getting tiring. She was treading on thin ice, one small slip up and she’d be engulfed in icy waters, but she confided in the fact that he hadn’t fired her yet (for whatever goddamn reason). Her stern expression met his own stoic one, a façade he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep holding up much longer.
“You left me hanging last time, sir. Let’s continue where we left off, shall we?”
She slid behind him, noiseless as a cat, taking the position she had been in the day before, this time with no interruptions. And there were no objections coming from him, which surprised both of them. She’d been expecting even a little bit of resistance on his part, yet there was none. Her abhorrent hands snaked their way down his built pectorals, relishing in his lack of defiance, whispering to him all the foul fantasies she’d dreamed of, and he didn’t say no.
“See, sir, once you let go, it’ll feel a lot better,”
As her fingers danced across his abdomen marveling at his muscles, she shifted a bit so she can stand beside him, watch all the resilience drain from his face as he gave in to her sick pleasures. God, he wanted to stop her, to shove her away, to do something, anything! But despite his subconscious crying out for him to take action, his body didn’t budge an inch. He felt sick to his stomach, he was enjoying this. He reviled himself over and over again in his head, yet he couldn’t deny her sensuous touches. He was already planning to penance for his sinful consent, never in his life did he think he’d ever be a perpetrator of infidelity, yet here he was letting a woman who wasn’t his lover touch him in ways he’d pledged were for only for your hands to execute.
His muteness was getting her drunk on the control she had over him -over the number three Pro-hero, she couldn’t help but test the waters and push her luck. Her digits scraped a path from his rock-hard abs to his inner thigh, kneading the muscle in her hands, inching closer and closer to the point of no return, the point where he’d officially be classified as an undignified cheater. His head snapped up, the haggard shouts of his subconscious finally proving fruitful in their effort to make him move. His eyes searched her grinning face, shit-eating and riddled with malice, and in a flash his mind compared her power-drunk smirk to your soft smile that he had the pleasure of witnessing that morning. All of a sudden, the frayed old thread holding his restraint together was restored to its original state, resewing and stitching itself back together to form a robust lasso that would hold his heart and spirit tightly, only yielding to your will and wind. She wasn’t you; she’d never be you or even come close. That small revelation prompted him to grip her wrist, which had been itching towards his semi-hard member. With newfound resolve, his voice as stern as he could muster, he made a demand- no, an order.
“Get out.”
“Wha- But-”
“Out. Now.”
His austere words left no room for discussion or complaints, her previously smug smile vanishing, replaced with pure fear at his staunch appearance. The tables were completely flipped, he had finally regained control over his traitorous body. She quickly heaved up, trying to fix her debauched state frantically before she booked it out of the room. With her villainous aura gone, the IcyHot Pro-hero dramatically sighed out, slumping in his office chair as he recounted the events of the past thirty minutes. He loathed himself for letting that continue on longer than it should have.
Before Todoroki can drown in his sea of self-loathing, his cell phone buzzed, indicating a notification. Opening the device, his breath hitched once he saw who had texted him.
Babe ❤️❤️:
Sho r u still coming home early tonight? ps love ya
Sent 6:13
Given the events that had just transpired in his office, his heart was racing. Mostly out of left-over adrenaline, but a part of him was happy he could still call himself loyal to you by minimum measures. Todoroki’d been so close to tipping over, he promised himself that he wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes. with the ache to see you blooming in him, he shot you a short text confirming that he’d be home in a bit and took a brisk shower to scrub off any lingering sensations from his sleazy assistant, both figuratively and literally.
When Todoroki arrived home only to be greeted by your patient smile, he couldn’t help the exasperated look overtaking his features. He truly didn’t deserve you, but he’d be a fool to let you go. Before you found the chance to even address him, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, savoring the aroma of your shampoo. He abruptly let you go to get a hold of your cheeks, gingerly patting them with his thumbs as he reminded himself over and over again that your were his and most importantly, that he was yours and only yours. Mental exhaustion crept up on him, the aftermath of his ongoing misdeeds finally catching up to him. Shoto could barely handle the fact that he had been so close to giving you up for some office skank, rubbing at his temples to ease the oncoming headache. You didn’t comment on his odd demeanor, opting to give him a serving of his favorite dish instead. With his head down, eyes focused on the coffee table in front of him, Shoto didn’t notice you leaving and returning with a tray in hand. His grey-blue hue flickered between the bowl of cold soba and the small glass of sake that were pushed into his line of vision then up to your playful grin. So pure, so loving. Nothing like the one he saw mere minutes prior in his agency.
“Eat up, I won’t be taking no for an answer this time!” Were your endearingly light-hearted words, that cheeky smile never fading. Shoto cemented this moment in his mind forever, ridiculing his past self for the umptieth time that day. How could he even bestow his stare on another creature when you were right by his side? Regret, repentance and unhinged love inundated him. He uttered out three simple words.
“I love you.”
You’d heard those same words come from his mouth dozens of times before, yet somehow this time felt special. You could tell the words carried more weight than they typically did, though you couldn’t pinpoint what kind of baggage they were upholding. Without even realizing it, tears had begun to trickle down your face, all your doubts and worries extinguished in an instant. Oh, how you longed to hear those words in recent days, they shook your entire world to its very core. He loves you; he still loves you.
Honestly, he hadn’t been expecting that reaction from you, but he understood the implications behind it, and it only added to the overbearing guilt weighing on him. Had you been so starved for his affection that those simple words made you cry? Shoto shot up from his seat, he made up his mind.
The cold soba was abandoned that night, he’d grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him to the bedroom where he indulged in the throes of passion with you, worshipping you and locking every sound, every expression and every word you made forever in his heart which you mercilessly tugged at using the lasso holding it hostage. Despite the less than pure nature of your acts, Shoto considered this his confessional, where you were the priest, ridding him from all his past sins and engulfing him in your warm light.
When you were both tuckered out, he pulled you into his bare chest, petting over your head and silently planned the coming day. Promising that he’d be better for you.
The next morning you were dejected to wake up in an empty bed, but you wouldn’t let that shake you up. Shoto was clearly trying to reignite the spark between you two, and you were going to put in the effort too. While making your morning beverage before heading to work, a neon sticky-note caught your eye. You plucked it from its place on the fridge. In neat handwriting, it read:
Hey love,
Sorry for leaving early again, was called in for an emergency
I’ll try to clear the rest of my schedule to come home early today
Love you
~S
The sweet words served to strengthen your faith in him. He was trying, and you would be sure to show that you appreciated his determination.
After dealing with the emergency, Shoto patrolled around the city, helping out here and there when needed. When he returned to his agency, his steps carried a steadfast feel to them, he knew what he was going to do next, and he was going to make it quick.
“Sir, you called?”
The duel haired hero didn’t even spare a glance at his secretary, finding the monotonous emails on his screen far more interesting. He encouraged her to sit down in the chair parallel to his bureau. She wordlessly took his offer and sat down, her heart beating a mile a minute. They both knew where this is going.
“You’re fired. Pack up your supplies and leave as soon as possible. And please leave your desk at pristine condition.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised really, if anything this was an expected outcome from her unprofessionalism, she didn’t dare voice her disapproval though, even she wasn’t dumb enough to poke the grizzly bear. Just as silently as she had entered, she left without making a fuss. Irrepressible relief calmed the Pro-hero’s senses, he’d done the right thing. And he would continue to walk the right path for you. He was able to clear the rest of his schedule, noting mirthfully that he still had time before he’d head back home. He settled for making a couple detours before coming home to your adoring gaze.
“I’m back.” Shoto called out blissfully, he missed the feeling of having an embrace to call his home. When he didn’t receive an answer he got a wee bit skittish, though his worries were subdued when he noticed your sleeping figure huddled up on the couch, a bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the table and a shitty romcom playing on the TV.
He crouched so he could properly take in your pacific visage. He vowed to himself that from then on out, he’d better himself in every aspect to truly be worthy of being yours. And he was going to forevermore eternalize that vow with the rose-gold band residing in his pocket.
#todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#shouto x reader#shoto x reader#todoroki imagine#todoroki angst#todoroki fluff#shoto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki x you
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Power and Control ♡ Jung Hoseok
Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader
Genre: smut, angsty
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Sugar baby themes, power dynamics outside the bedroom, unprotected sex
Summary: Women and men we are the same but love will always be a game and I’m gonna make you fall.
A/N: Well this was a stubborn one. Like seriously took me a whole month to try and write Hoseok as a villan-y character and at the end... i kinda failed BUT I really liked this one. Thanks for waiting. I hope you are doing great with life aside from all that is going one. Take care. I hope you like this one!
Hoseok wouldn’t dare to try and label what you and he had as conventional, hell, he wouldn’t even dare to try and label himself as conventional, quite the contrary, because really, what’s a broke college-graduate-to-be got to do when a beautiful, empowered woman like yourself is seeking out a sugar baby deal? Say no? He would have to be stupid, plus, it’s not like you two are 10 or so years apart, you’re just 2 years older than him; plus, the deal was simple enough, apart from a disclosure contract and a few sessions of experimenting what you two liked with each other, it had been easy enough to fall into a routine.
Said routine meaning two to three sessions a week, some weekends together and playing as arm candy in most of your business parties, to which he would then find his semester’s tuition fee paid off, the latest limited-edition Supreme collection on his college dorm and one time, an all-included vacation to Europe for Christmas.
As time went on, nearly a year into it, it had become harder and harder to keep coming up with excuses as to how exactly he was being able to afford such a luxurious way of living without it being apparent that he had worked for it, especially when his closed group of friends were clearly struggling with it all (he might have asked you once to pay for Namjoon’s tuition fee after he got injured and couldn’t work for the month, the guy so in the clouds hadn’t even noticed the debt gone), and you know, Jung Hoseok isn’t a man with fragile masculinity, he knows exactly who he is, so even if for him being a sugar baby was really no big deal, the constant assumption of sugar babies having daddy/mommy issues sure was in the back of his mind every time he so much as the thought of sharing his lifestyle with his friends crossed his mind (cause he did not have daddy/mommy issues, thank you very much).
“Hobi, this just got here for you, I thought we had talked about your shopping addiction?” Namjoon said as he passed him by on his way out the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, small package on the other, placing it on the kitchen counter before turning to look at him. Hoseok so much as fake laughed his worst laugh trying (and most probably failing) to not make his roommate any more suspicious.
See, the greatest excuse for the time being all those months ago, when you had started gifting him stuff and sending it to his dorm, was saying that he ‘might have developed an addiction to online shopping’. He had talked it out with you, and you agreed to start delivering the gifts on your sessions. Hoseok hummed while taking the package from the counter “I just- I had this coupon and I had to use it” Namjoon wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore, he could clearly not have said a thing.
“Hey, hyungs would you mind if I-OH MY FUCKING GOD IS THAT BOX FROM THE NEWEST CHANEL COLLECTION???” Taehyung was… quite a melodramatic man when it came down to his expertise: fashion; which was one of the reasons Hoseok could kind of breathe around his own home. Namjoon didn’t know shit about fashion. But Taehyung would a hundred percent not fall into his ‘I got a coupon’ facade for a split second. His throat ached to instinctevely deny the younger’s claim but he knew it would do no good. Hoseok had once committed the deadly mistake of wearing one of the perfumes you had gifted him for his birthday to one of their nights out and that man right there, Kim Taehyung, had known from a sniff that he was wearing a thousand dollars Paco Rabanne Luxe Edition 1 million 18 carats. How exactly? He wouldn’t dare to ask. Taehyung knew his fashion. But the night didn’t seem to come to an end soon enough with his friend’s questioning. “Hoseok-hyung, how did you get access to one of the most exclusive collection previews of the world? I mean, I’m all for Gucci, but go off I guess”
So they are talking about it. May the gods have mercy on his unable to lie for his life soul.
“It was a gift from uh- my distant rich- auntie?” both Taehyung and Namjoon turned to look at him in the most sceptical way possible, but soon went back to their conversation.
He was going to have the talk with you later, for the second time. As if on cue, his phone dinged with a text from you, very out of character, if he may add, you two kept it on the line of the contract that bound the two of you, no texting, no calls, no nothing. He was busy with school most of the time and you were probably busier with your business stuff anyways.
From: Y/N [12:38]
You got my gift?
To: Y/N [12:38]
Yeah. Now apparently I have a rich distant auntie that is sending me expensive af gifts.
To: Y/N [12:39]
But then again, who am I to complain, right?
From: Y/N [12:43]
Great. Wear it tonight. 10 pm sharp. Long day.
Over the course of the months with you, he had learnt quite a few things about himself, first, he had an expensive taste, he just couldn’t afford it. Second, you knew his love language was being gifted things, and lord, did you take advantage of that to keep him wrapped around your finger. Third, he always felt as if you had come to know him inside and out so clearly, you had come to read him like an open book but he couldn’t say the same. You were a reserved woman, he knew that. With your position and all, it made sense. But he was just as cold to people he wasn’t close with, so he had to have some upper hand at it. Even after spending days on researching you he always came empty-handed. Sure, you two fucked, kissed, hanged out, but there was just this sense of chemistry lacking as if you two melted together when naked but once the fog cleared, it became a constant battle to gain control over the other. You had gifts to win him over. He had his charm and amazing bedroom skills to keep you grounded. You made it work. Kind of.
He arrived at your place a few minutes before 10, making himself a drink at the sky bar in the middle of your living room as he stared outside the floor-length window to watch Seoul’s night sky and lighted ground of the busy city, your heels clicking on the floor when you entered the space.
“Oh you got here early?” he turned around to watch you dispose of your jewellery in the entrance table, stealing glances at him every few seconds “I didn’t think you would actually listen to me and wear it, do you like it?
Hoseok lifted the glass to his lips to sip the alcohol. The poorly lit room brought a new light to you that deep down he had known for a while but he wasn’t willing to accept, the tiredness behind your eyes luring him in, making him imagine for a second that the setting was much more domestic than what it really was “Got off classes early and yeah, it does the job, thanks”
You made your way to the bar to fix yourself a drink, all the while he couldn’t stop staring at you, the imposing aura you always exuded sending shivers down his spine, his mind racing. He could already picture you bent over the couch for him as you took a seat and waved him over.
He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much time went by when your lips found his, your dress riding up your thighs when you moved to straddle him, hands finding your ass, tongues fired up with evident desire as you ground down on his hard length “You texted me first today” you broke away from the kiss to look at him funnily, for the first time in the almost a year knowing you, he could see the slightest of vulnerability in your eyes, fondness, for him. So after all, you were wrapped around his finger “Are you falling in love with me, miss Y/N?”
Your answer was very much in character, sucking his jawline while your hands worked their way down his pants to free his cock, stroking him a few time to bring it to a full length, his head throwing back into the couch in pleasure as you retorted teasingly “Think you’re going to break my heart, Hobi?”
He knew then that your favourite game had begun. A constant game of tug and pull to lead the sex that had become a routine for both of you.
He had somehow worked his way under your dress at the same time as he pushed his pants to his ankles and removed them, giving your clothed core just the right amount of friction you were seeking and providing him with the perfect moment to flip you both over on the small space, a smirk taking over his factions “You might be good looking baby, but you’re not a piece of art”
“God I need you so much right now” you whispered at him, before tracing the expanse of his back under his newly bought sweater, distracting him enough for you to take his place on top, aching core approaching his face as his smile didn’t seem to get any bigger “Dinner’s served”
“My favourite,” he said before beginning to suck on the inside of your thighs, working his way to where you needed him the most, hot tongue wetting your already drenching panties for a few seconds before he pushed the cloth aside and gripped you even closer to his face, teeth nibbling at your folds teasingly, drawing a loud moan out of you, walls instinctively clenching as his tongue traced you whole, lewd noises filling up the room, subtly grinding up to him as he traced circles on your clit before eating you out once again, up until your thighs started trembling against his head, yours thrown back in ecstasy at the pleasure. His face glistening with your juices once you let him take control over the situation.
Hoseok’s deft fingers rid you of both of your remaining pieces of clothings as you tried to catch your breath, fully aware of what was about to go on after you had your fun with him. Your exposed skin hits the coldness of the floor as Hoseok rolled both of you down the couch, making you shiver as a smile is plastered in the younger’s face; you close your eyes for a split second, not needing to know that for the time being, Hoseok was pumping his hard cock to ready himself for you, small fluttering kisses adorning the space just below your neck as he approaches your ear silently “I was thinking… a Tesla would be a great combo with my brand new Chanel collection, you know?”
A small laugh leaves your lips before you open your eyes to see him hovering above you, eyes travelling your face, a few strands of hair covering his “You are not sweet talking me into buying you a Tesla, Hoseok”
“I was thinking more of fucking it out of you” it is then that he enters you in a swift thrust, letting you adjust for a few seconds before moving experimentally at the new angle for both of you that was your living room floor, his hand coming up to place your right leg over his shoulder, gaining him better access to have you whimpering below him, just the way he liked. Long, skilled fingers caress your clit as he keeps a steady rhythm inside of you, feeling the warmth enveloping him and your walls clench around him as he speeds up his pace on your nerve bundle.
“Oh g-Hoseok I’m gonna cum” your voice is strained and he feels it as the opportunity to wreck you harder, the movement of his hips hitting all the right spots within you, he can feel your leg cramping on his shoulder as a wave of pleasure hits you and he has half a mind to pull out and release himself on your stomach, both of you breathing heavily as the need starts to fade and it all comes to an end.
You see, if you asked any of Hoseok’s close friends, they would describe him as pure sunshine, and he was, kinda, at least for the most part of his life, but he was also a man determined to get what he wanted in life, which was why, he was currently pondering his next move. After your little session at your living room floor/couch, he had felt a shift in the air, a longing between the two of you, and that only went on for the next few weeks as you would drop your cold facade and text him small things, as he kept on receiving packages at his dorm (without Tae or Joon knowing, thank fuck) and he had found himself thinking about you non-stop. It was pretty obvious, and if someone had known about your existence, they might have pointed it out, cause it was so obvious even for himself, that the tug and pull game of yours, had made you both fall for the other somehow. Which really, wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for that shitty paragraph on your contract that seems to keep replaying itself inside his mind. If you started becoming too familiar with each other, you would revoke the contract. He had agreed and signed it, thinking that it is just too weird for someone to grow acostumed to another if they just fuck and leave afterwards, but apparently somewhere he went wrong. And he clearly needed the money. You had yet to come to realise your newly found dynamics so he was living on borrowed time. And he had to act quickly.
Hoseok wasn’t really a strategic man, but luck always seemed to be on his side, so it took a mere week to come up with something. He had been visiting the hospital where his sister worked (per his mother’s request) just hanging out, which probably wasn’t even allowed to, but Jiwoo had insisted to wait for her lunch break as it was a slow day anyway. So he did.
“You’ve never told me how you paid off your tuition without dad’s help, Hobi” his sister commented as she went through some papers on her desk. His mind crashed. Error 404. Flee the country. It is one thing lying to his friends about his way of living, a completely different story when family starts asking.
“Oh I’m a- personal assistant of some CEO” he answered, turning to look the other way towards the entrance, almost nonchalantly, but life liked to have fun with him, so of course just as he is trying his best to keep you out of his mind, you had to be walking right through the door, not as outstanding as he is used to see you, but the aura you exude that is so uniquely yours is unable to miss out. You two didn’t talk on personal life, but he had researched you over the months, trying (and failing) to gain some type of useless power over you. It seemed like whatever wasn’t business, wasn’t you. So he had to play dumb.
“Who 's that?” he asked his sister, just as you were rounding the corner, Jiwoo turning to look at your disappearing figure
“Oh, that’s Y/N”
“Y/N like Y/N Y/L/N? the CEO?” the idea of maybe getting into acting and winning an Oscar crossed his mind, his sister hummed in thought
“I guess, Y/N is quite an unusual name right?” she resumed whatever she was doing before adding “But this girl couldn’t be her, she comes to visit her sister religiously every Friday”
“Is she sick?” so your cold uncaring demeanor was really just a front you put up for people.
“You’re starting to sound like a pervert, Hoseok”
He really wishes he could say he dropped the whole sick sister thing after that day, but the longer he thought about that, the cleared it was for him that if he was looking for an upper hand for you not to drop him out of the whole money deal once you realised you had both infringed the contract that brought you two together, this was it. He had immense self-confidence, if he said so himself. But there was something about going against you that wasn’t exactly easy to warm up to. He tried several times to come up with a plan but came empty-handed so he guessed he would just have to go with the flow.
“You’re so wet already” he grunted as you felt his member teasing your entrance, his hand gripping your hair to bring you to face the mirror beside your bed. Hoseok had decided to drop by after he knew you were done with work, taking you by surprise at the unscheduled session, but then again, who were you to complain about the man, who in less than five minutes and some lazy kissing on your bed had both of you riled up and on all fours at his complete mercy “We’ve got some things to talk about, Y/N”
You tried to turn your face to look at him directly instead of the mirror but he just tightened his grip as he thrusted forward forcefully, making you grip your sheets tighter attempting not to tumble over, a pleasurable sting on your scalp “I’m listening”
“Friday. Lunchtime, what exactly were you doing at the hospital?” he asked and could already feel your though exterior crumble, he just had to hope that whatever big secret it was having a sick little sister was enough for him to keep the upper hand in the situation.
Just as fast as that surprised look had appeared on your face, it was replaced with determination in your eyes as you pressed yourself back onto him, purposely clenching around him in the way you knew drove him crazy “Maybe I’ll talk. If you fuck me hard enough”
So he did.
“So what do you want in exchange for keeping my Friday’s whereabouts a secret?” you asked as his clothes were thrown at him
This was it. “I want my full tuition paid off before you call it quits on us”
You turned to look at him, laughing a little “Hoseok, a human vulnerability doesn’t mean that I am weak” you made your way to the bathroom “You’ll have to work harder for it”
Each day that went by was filled with dread of having his whole lifestyle crumbling down in a second, it had been so long since he had even so much as heard about you. Until he wouldn’t stop hearing about you (kind of) He remembers waking up to a 5am text from you telling him that he couldn’t have peace without a war, but if he was being completely honest, he was kind of asleep at the time so he couldn’t comprehend half of it. But it all became clearer when his phone started blowing up with texts, from Taehyung and Namjoon, to his sister and his parents. Apparently, you had a very expensive shopping spree in his name, delivered especially with lots of love to every person that could, and most certainly would question how exactly he had the kind of money to afford the luxurious gifts that they were all receiving.
From:Y/N [9:02]
You start at 10.
To: Y/N [9:02]
Y/N What’s going on?
From: Y/N [9:05]
Welcome to the team, board member Jung Hoseok.
So perhaps you would always have the upper hand when it came to power and control of whatever it was you two were playing. You had no doubt and no obstacle to ruin his whole life. But he guesses that his upper hand is shown in the fact that he could keep you from doing just that.
#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#hyunglinenetwork#bts imagine#bts smut game#hoseok imagine#hoseok smut#bts fic#bts x reader#hoseok x reader#jhope scenarios#hoseok scenarios#jhope smut#jung hoseok smut#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts imagines#hoseok fanfiction
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Triple Play (Negan/Reader/Simon one-shot)
This fic was originally intended to be my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash’s birthday challenge ages ago, but then life and a moody muse turned it into a forever WIP. And yet I just could not get story idea out of my head and did not stop until it was completed.
My prompt was “Technology – Walkie Talkies”.
Summary: some secrets are better left untold…or are they?
Characters: Negan x Reader x Simon
Word count: 5,616
Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut, swearing
Tags (tagging my forevers and those who expressed interest in this fic at some point): @negans-network, @i-am-negan-trash, @emoryhemsworth, @ridingmoxley, @ladysyn, @sleepylunarwolf, @letsby, @tatertotandcassie, @annablack1102, @genevievedarcygranger, @daisysouthmoore, @hughxjackman, @ofxallxwexlost, @negans-wife
I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy to comment, message or ask me anything!
“Okay, Y/N, your turn. Dwight, Negan, Simon,” Laura chirped, her voice hissing with static.
Your lips curled up into a wide grin as you raised the radio to your mouth.
“Fuck Negan, marry Simon, kill Dwight.”
“Damn, girl. That was quick!” Arat’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “You could have at least pretended to think about it for a minute.”
The Virginia sun was beating down with all its might as you made your way through the field in the knee-high grass. You retrieved the water bottle from your backpack, but the few gulps of lukewarm water did little to wet your parched throat.
Negan had sent out a search party for two workers who were stupid enough to break into the storage room and steal various supplies, but not smart enough to take a car to make their escape. It was just a question of time before they were captured, but you hoped it was going to happen before dinner. It was Friday, and tonight’s menu was going to be mac ‘n cheese. A hot meal and a cold shower, you craved nothing more.
You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while scanning the tree line for movement, but everything looked peaceful. Despite a badly decomposed walker that stumbled out of the forest about an hour ago, the search was uneventful. To kill time, Arat proposed to play ‘Fuck, marry, kill’ on the back-up channel, which she swore was safe from prying ears since nobody ever used it.
“Poor D, why would you hurt him?”
Laura could not hide the reproach in her tone. She had had a crush on Dwight since forever but didn’t dare to make a move on him, not even months after Sherry had married Negan.
“He’s a good dude, but not my type, sorry, not sorry.”
“Okay, what about Simon?” Arat chimed in. “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”
The chorus of cicadas fell silent in the background as the transmission ended.
“I’m not, but I can’t fuck him too if I marry Negan.”
“Wait...what?”
An amused smile spread on your lips at the frantic reaction.
“Well, you know the rules. If you marry Negan, you can’t be with anybody else but him, right? But what if I want to fuck both him and Simon? The only way is to marry Simon and cheat on him with Negan. Or better yet, to coax them into a threesome.”
“Okay, I get Simon. He’s funny, has a killer swagger and that moustache must feel like heaven on your pussy,” Laura pondered. “But Negan…I mean, he’s hot, but also volatile, dangerous, and rough. He must be an animal in bed. I bet even his cum-face is scary.”
“I choose to accept the mission and find out for your peace of mind. I think he made Sherry come at least three times last night. Lucky bitch,” you sighed with envy recalling the sinful noises you overheard from Negan’s room.
“Then why don’t you volunteer to become a wife?”
“I worked my ass off to become a Savior, and will not give it up to sit around in the wives’ lounge, eat candy and paint my nails all day. I’d rather keep my job and fantasize about Negan and Simon while rubbing one out at night.”
The conversation was interrupted by your radio emitting a long beep, pulling you back to reality and the task at hand. You stopped in your tracks and switched to the primary channel.
“The search is over, we have the sorry shits in custody,” you heard Negan’s gravelly voice announce, his patience evidently worn thin. “Everybody get the fuck back to base now!”
You felt a pang of sorrow for the escapees. They were no doubt going to receive a painfully thorough ironing after dinner.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
An hour and a shower later you were on your way to the canteen with Arat and Laura in tow. The scent of melted cheese and spices filling the corridors made saliva pool in your mouth.
You devoured the plate of pasta within minutes and chugged two glasses of water to quench your thirst after the savoury meal. Feeling full and sleepy, you rested your chin in your palm, while Arat and Laura engaged in a heated debate over which of the newbie Saviors they wanted to fuck, marry and kill respectively.
“Evening, ladies,” Simon stopped by your table, his hands resting on his hips. After giving the two girls a quick nod, his eyes settled on you. “He wants to see you, Y/N, in his room.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. Negan didn’t summon anyone but his wives at such a late hour and he had never asked to see you in his room before.
“Something wrong?”
“Everything’s A-Okay. The boss man just wants to have a word with you in private. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Simon gestured towards the door, his usual smirk never faltering.
You stood up from the table and gave Arat and Laura a wink before following Simon out of the canteen.
“I thought he was going to punish the escapees after dinner,” you stated rather than asked while trying to keep up with Simon’s long strides.
“Tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s another matter he wants to deal with tonight.”
His curt response caught you off-guard, but you attributed it to him being hungry, since you had not seen him at dinner earlier.
Simon led you to the top floor and stopped before a large mahogany double door. Knocking twice, he turned the knob without waiting for an answer, and motioned for you to step inside.
Negan’s quarters looked nothing like other parts of the Sanctuary. It felt like entering the suite of a five-star hotel and you couldn’t stop looking around in amazement. The room was lavishly furnished with furniture and accessories from an expensive interior design store the Saviors had looted on your first run. There was a giant four poster bed to your left, decorated with grey, satin bedsheets and neatly arranged pillows, and to your right a comfortable black leather couch with two matching armchairs surrounding a coffee table. A bar area was set up in the corner complete with leather stools and a selection of spirits. The private bathroom was hidden behind a black door on the opposite wall, but you imagined it to be just as extravagant. Negan had a taste for the finer things in life, like beautiful women, good food and his luxurious apartment was no exception. Your room looked like a mouse hole in comparison.
Negan was sitting behind his desk, several papers splayed out before him next to a tumbler filled with amber liquid. His leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat, but his signature red scarf was still draped around his neck. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast an eerie light on his face. He looked up from the ledger in his hand and beckoned you closer, pointing at the chair in front of him.
Simon strode over to the couch behind you and plopped down, the leather squeaking under his weight. You were surprised to see him stay, but Negan didn’t seem to mind his number two’s presence in the room. He took a small sip of his drink and leaned back in the armchair, studying you with an unreadable expression.
Negan had always treated you fairly, appreciating your scavenging skills and rewarding your hard work. You climbed the imaginary career ladder at the community from common worker to lieutenant thanks to your tenacity, courage and ability to handle Negan’s short temper and crude humour. Along with Arat and Simon you were one of his most trusted soldiers, carrying out his orders and accompanying him on runs. You had been infatuated with him from the start and often found your eyes lingering on your formidable leader, but seemingly he had never expressed an interest in you.
With Simon your attraction began on your first run to Alexandria, when you were assigned to ride in the same truck and hit it off right away during the long journey. Simon was funny, smart and cute in a rugged way, and soon the two men occupied your dreams, with the three of you ending up having hot, messy sex on every vertical and horizontal surface imaginable. Yet, you did your best to act professionally around them, not letting your secret obsession interfere with your work.
“Something you wanna tell me?” Negan jolted you from your thoughts. “Anything you’d like to confess?”
“I’m not a religious person, sorry,” you pursed your lips to suppress a smile.
Simon snickered behind you, but Negan seemed unfazed by your cheekiness. He swirled his whisky a few times, his touch leaving random marks on the foggy surface of the glass.
“Okay, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I took an extra serving of the apple pie at dinner last night. It was too delicious to resist.”
Negan narrowed his eyes at you and stroked his chin, his gloved fingers scraping his salt-and-pepper stubble.
“Or if this is about the crime novel I haven’t returned to the library, I know it’s almost a month overdue, but I still have two chapters left and want to know who the killer is.”
You heard the sound before your eyes could register the motion as Negan slammed down his glass on the desk. You expected it to shatter into a million pieces, but the tumbler miraculously survived the impact, the ice cubes clinking against each other in protest.
“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wanna test my patience.”
You gulped hard, feeling an uneasy chill go down your spine. Negan was usually up for jokes, but he was evidently not in the mood for them now, and you could not shake off the thought that you were the reason for it.
He stood up and keeping his gaze fixed on you rounded the desk before leaning against it, resting his hands on the edge. His crotch was level with your eyes, and you straightened up in your seat to avoid having to look at the impressive package in his pants.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you opted for honesty.
Negan pushed himself away from the desk and started circling you. His looming presence behind you made the hair stand up on your back, but you fought the urge to turn around.
“I don’t take lightly to my Saviors keeping secrets from me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you asserted but regretted it immediately when Negan’s face appeared in your peripheral vision.
“Bullshit!” he snarled against your ear. “What about that little girl talk over the radio this afternoon?”
His words made the blood drain from your face. Closing your eyes, you wished the ground would miraculously open and swallow you up.
“Imagine my surprise when during today’s run, I heard one of my top gals confess over the back-up channel that she was fantasizing about me and my right-hand man while rubbing one out at night.”
If the blood had gone from your face before, it now rushed right back up as you felt your cheeks grow hot.
“That shit made me very, very disappointed.”
Negan stepped back in front of you, and crossing his ankles leaned against the desk. The intensity of his stare made your heart sink. You tried to guess how much of your radio conversation with Arat and Laura he could have heard. If luck was on your side, he only caught the last part. If not...
…you didn’t even want to go there.
“We were just…joking. A silly chat between us girls to pass the time,” you shrugged, feeling perspiration bead on your forehead.
Negan studied your face intently weighing your words.
“What do you make of this, Simon?”
“She’s lying, boss,” came the merry retort from the couch.
You head snapped around in protest but Negan grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look at him.
“I think you’re right,” he mused in a sing-song voice, his face so close that you could smell his body wash and the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. ”Get over here and give me a hand, will you?”
You heard Simon’s heavy boots cross the room and stop behind you. Negan gave him a knowing look and before you knew it, your arms were yanked back, and held firmly behind the chair.
“Where were we, doll?” Negan let go of your chin and crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Oh, yes. You fantasizing about me and Simon nailing you.”
He licked his lips slowly and your eyes followed the motion instinctively.
“What’s the matter, Y/N? Cat got your tongue? You were very talkative over the radio earlier,” Negan taunted sardonically.
You closed your legs to put some distance between your bodies, but Negan squeezed your thighs in warning and forced them further apart.
“Tell me what you thought about last night.”
You squirmed in your seat, Negan’s command ringing in your ears in the deafening silence that followed.
“You said that you were listening to me fucking Sherry. What did you think about to get off?”
Your eyes went wide like saucers and you desperately tried to come up with a plausible excuse, but your mind went completely blank. Sharing a kinky fantasy over the radio with your best friends was one thing. But confessing it face to face to the very subjects of it?
“Careful, Y/N,” Negan warned sensing your stalling, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “I want the truth on this one.”
You went limp in Simon’s grip with an exasperated sigh. As much as you hated to admit defeat, they cornered you. You held your head up high and gave Negan a defiant look. If he wanted to hear the truth, you were going to tell him just that, consequences be damned.
“We were in the meeting room, at the usual Monday briefing for the lieutenants. I disagreed with your order, and we got into an argument over it. I knew that I was pushing your buttons but the more riled up you got, the more it turned me on.”
Negan looked at you with a faint smirk, as if the same idea had crossed his mind before.
“You decided that if I was bold enough to backtalk in front of your men, then I would also be punished in front of them. Simon pinned me down on the meeting table, and the two of you took turns having your way with me.”
Negan’s pupils dilated, the primal reaction urging you to continue.
“All the lieutenants were watching us with hunger and envy that they could only look, but not touch or taste me. I was completely exposed and at your mercy, and yet felt safe and in control of the situation, because that was exactly what I wanted. To be taken, dominated, marked and used for your pleasure. You kept teasing me, edging me, until I was a begging mess. And in the end, you came inside me, breeding me.”
Negan tsked with a shake of his head.
“And you were hiding all of this from me? Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But don’t worry, we will rectify the situation right now.”
Your heart dropped as the meaning of his words sank in. This was it. You were going to be demoted, lose your friends, the respect of the Saviors and could never go near Negan and Simon again. Or they would kick you out of the Sanctuary even. And all of this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Now you knew why the ironing of the escapees had been postponed. Negan had deemed your punishment more urgent.
“You wanna pay close attention to this, because I’m only going to say it once. Hearing your dirty little confession over the radio made me and Simon hard as steel. So we decided to make your wish come true.”
You blinked twice, expecting to wake up from what seemed to be the weirdest dream you had ever had. You were never going to stuff yourself full of food before bed again.
“But I have two conditions. Are you with me, doll?”
You nodded weakly as Negan’s fingers drew a zigzag pattern on your jeans.
“One: as much as the thought of fucking you in front of my men is tickling my balls, I am not letting those fuckers lay their eyes on you. It’s going to be just you, me and Simon.”
The offer sounded more than fair to you.
"Two: you know well I don’t share my gals with anyone, except for when I have a moresome with my wives, and I only allow them to fuck each other because I get to watch. What’s mine is mine.”
Your breath hitched as he moved his hands further up, the tip of his fingers skimming the apex of your thighs.
“But since your fantasy involved my right-hand man as well, I’m willing to bend the rules just this once.”
Heat pooled in your belly as you watched him, mesmerized by his usually hazel eyes darkening to dark chocolate.
“So, tonight I get exclusive membership at your pussy bar, no exceptions. You will be my little breeding bitch only,” he stroked your clothed centre, eliciting a pathetic whine from you. “As for other parts of your body, sharing is caring.” Negan looked up at Simon flashing his pearly whites, before his eyes settled back on you.
You stared at him at a loss for words. One part of you was cheering you on to seize the opportunity and accept the indecent proposal, while the other was adamant that you were going to wake up any minute. Negan lifted his gloved hand to your cheek and traced your lower lip, expecting an answer. You let your body do the talking and opened your mouth to run your tongue over his thumb, tracing a shiny path on the black leather. If this was indeed just a dream, you were going to make sure it would be a wet one.
“Damn, Simon, I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment we met her,” Negan drawled, his eyes heavy with desire.
Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you up and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth possessively. Simon pushed the chair out of the way and pressed himself into your back trapping your body between him and Negan. Even through two layers of clothing you could feel the outline of his hard-on, earning a low moan from you.
“Easy, Simon,” Negan grinned wickedly, sucking and nibbling on your neck. “We don’t want her to cum just yet.”
Closing your eyes, you rested your head on Simon’s shoulder to offer Negan easier access to your skin. Lost in the pleasure the two men were showering you with your right hand went to cup Negan’s bulge, while you grabbed the back of Simon’s head with the other and arched your back against him.
“Looks like someone’s eager,” Simon murmured grinding into your ass.
“She’s not the only one,” Negan hissed. “Let’s get her out of these fucking clothes, before I blow my load in my pants.”
He lifted your shirt over your head, and Simon unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs along with your boots. You felt self-conscious standing before the two men in nothing but your underwear but Negan’s lustful gaze and the appreciative rumble in Simon’s chest chased all your insecurities away. Simon unclasped your bra and you dropped your hands to your sides, letting it slide down onto the floor. He went for your panties next, but Negan stopped him with a grunt, reminding him of the exclusive territorial rights he had established earlier.
Simon seemed unfazed by the setback and put his plan B in motion peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. He placed his right hand on top of yours, and guided it from his crotch to your front, tracing your belly button with the tip of your fingers, before slipping them inside your panties and brushing your slit.
His ingenuity impressed you, but Negan didn’t share the sentiment.
“Hands off, Simon, her pussy is mine,“ he bared his teeth at him.
The primal gesture combined with the possessiveness in his voice made your insides coil with anticipation. Simon held his hands up with a smug look and licked his fingertips, his eyes closing in delight as he savoured the taste of your arousal.
Negan yanked your panties down, the disapproval over your complicity in Simon’s crime evident on his face. Simon kneeled on the ground and lifted the garment to his nose to take a whiff, before letting it fall on top of your discarded clothes.
“I think we should catch up with her, Simon” Negan suggested, his eyes drinking in your nakedness.
He took off his shirt revealing tufts of dark chest hair and various tattoos, some faded, some more recent looking. You heard Simon unbuckle his belt behind you and looked back over your shoulder to steal a glance. He was bulkier than Negan, his muscles defined, and chest fully shaved. You watched the piles of clothes grow by their feet until they stood before you completely naked, their cocks standing proud against their bellies. Simon’s was thick and veiny, Negan’s long and smooth, but both impressive in its own right. You bit down on your lip, yearning to taste them.
“Like what you see, doll?” Negan flicked his tongue suggestively at you. “Get on your knees and show Simon what that smart mouth is capable of,” he instructed pointing down on the ground. “But don’t make him cum yet.”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you purred.
“We shall see when you choke on his dick,” Negan replied darkly before turning to his right-hand man. “Show her who’s the fucking boss here.”
Simon didn’t need to be told twice and placing his hand on your shoulder pushed you down on the carpet. You grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps before licking off the drops of pre-cum oozing from the tip. He sighed out loud, as you closed your mouth over the head and sucked gently, enjoying the salty taste. You swallowed him inch by inch, tracing every vein with your tongue, until he was buried deep in your throat. His hands tightened in your hair to keep you still, eliciting a muffled whine from you, your lips vibrating around his length. When you could no longer fight the need to gag, you began to move, bobbing your head up and down.
Opening your eyes, you searched for Negan and found him getting comfortable in the chair you had been sitting in before. He was watching your every move, legs wide open, stroking himself lazily. You mirrored his pace instinctively and sucked on Simon in sync with his palm fisting his dick. Negan sucked on his teeth as he watched your cheeks bulge rhythmically.
You pulled back and swirled your tongue around the crown like catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. Simon lowered his hand to the back of your head, spreading his fingers wide for a solid hold, and started fucking your mouth with abandon. Your throat was contracting and burning with every thrust but you didn’t mind the discomfort, feeling a rush of blood go to your core from him using you just like you had imagined.
“That’s enough,” Negan barked, but Simon was too far gone in pleasure to listen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back. You kept your eyes on Negan to show him that you had heard him and doubled your efforts, forming a ring with your thumb and index finger around the root of Simon’s shaft, and cupping his balls in your free hand. You knew that you were playing with fire, but the thrill was too tempting to resist.
Negan’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he jumped up from the chair to advance on you, his manhood swinging with every step like a metronome. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and let Simon slip from your mouth, a string of saliva hanging off your chin.
“I said, enough!” Negan repeated and pulled you up into a standing position. “Simon, take a time-out before you bust a nut.”
You felt him swat your ass hard and yelped in surprise.
“This may be your fantasy, doll, but I call the fucking shots here and will not hesitate to dole out some hard punishment, if you don’t follow my orders,” he seethed.
Still holding you by the make-shift ponytail he pushed you towards the bed and showed you down on the mattress.
“On your back, arms above your head.”
You laid back down against the pillows as you were told. Negan knelt between your legs and spread them apart by your knees.
“Well, would you look at this creamy little mess in here!” his eyes gleamed with unadulterated joy.
Getting on his elbows, he traced your mound with his lips, his mouth barely touching you, the combination of the scruff of his beard and his warm breath tickling deliciously. Your hands fisted the sheets as he licked your pussy from bottom to top, before dripping the tip into your opening, and lapping up your juices with relish. He peeked up at you through his long lashes, watching your reactions. His lips were sticky with your arousal as he ate you out shamelessly as if you had been his last meal on Earth.
You looked to your right to find Simon sitting on the couch, watching the two of you with drowsy eyes. He was trying hard to comply with Negan’s orders, but it was evident how much he wanted to touch himself as he fidgeted in his seat, his cock begging for attention.
Negan moved his tongue to your clit and sucked it between his teeth, the sensation exquisite and overwhelming at the same time. You cried out and digging your heels into the mattress lifted your body to move away from him, but he wrapped his fingers around your thighs holding you in place. His tongue continued its sensual assault alternating between slow, soft flicks, and fast, greedy slurps. The variation of the tempo and intensity combined with the thrill of not knowing what his next move would be was driving you crazy with want.
You bucked your hips to maximize the contact between your bodies, he, however, had other plans and sat back on his heels. Pulling you down by the waist until he was kneeling between your thighs, he lined himself up at your entrance and began grinding against your heat, coating his length with your wetness.
“Negan...” you whimpered and raised your pelvis to make him slide inside you, but he restrained you by putting his hand on your stomach.
“Not yet.”
Getting impatient you reached for his dick, but he slapped your hand away.
“I said, not yet! Simon, come here!”
You felt the bed dip and calloused hands pinning your wrists down on the mattress. Tilting your head to the side you continued to suck on Simon, eager to finish what Negan’s intervention had interrupted earlier.
You arched your back off the mattress as Negan pinched your right nipple and rolled it between his fingers. He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, before sucking it into his mouth and blowing on the stiff peak, his saliva feeling like a cool ointment against your overheated skin.
“Please...” you gasped, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to go on.
“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Simon gritted his words, the sensory overload of your lips on him, and the sight of Negan toying with you pushing him dangerously close to the edge.
“I don’t think so, Simon. But it looks like she will milk you dry any minute, and I want to fuck this pretty pussy raw finally.”
Negan positioned himself at your dripping cunt and slid inside, inch by inch. You cried out in ecstasy from the sweet pressure of him stretching you wide. When he was buried to the hilt, he remained still, and taking hold of your ankles, spread your legs wide.
“Look at that, Simon, how she is taking my big, fat dick like a champ?”
He finally began to move in a painfully slow rhythm, enjoying as your warmth enveloped him. Crossing your legs for a closer fit he placed your feet on his shoulder, the penetration so deep that you let out a cry with every thrust. Your entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your damp strands of hair stuck to your forehead. You were exposed and at the mercy of the two men, but had never felt this free and complete. Tension was building in your stomach and you closed your eyes to absorb yourself in the moment.
Negan, however, pulled out abruptly, earning him a frustrated mewl from you that he rewarded with a slap delivered on your swollen clit.
“On all fours, doll. I want to fill this fertile pussy full of my cum.”
Simon let go of your arms and sat back against the headboard. You rolled over lifting yourself up on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Negan lifted your ass up and placing his palm between your shoulder blades pushed you down in Simon’s lap. When he was satisfied with the angle, he rammed into you again, his fingers digging into your hips.
“Are you going to cum on my cock, like a good girl?” he growled and spanked your ass hard.
You cried out an affirmative and continued to pleasure Simon while chasing your own release. A few seconds later you felt every nerve ending in your body tingle and warmth spread to your core. Your toes curled inward as your body surrendered to the inevitable and waves of ecstasy washed over you, dulling your senses for what felt like several minutes. The vibrations of your moans around him made Simon succumb to his own climax. He started twitching and throbbing, before spurting his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop hungrily before releasing his softening member from your mouth.
Negan let you ride out your high, and then picked up the speed again. Fisting your hair, he pulled your head back twisting your body in an unnatural shape as he continued to pound you. His hand curled around your neck, his fingers squeezing hard enough to make black spots appear in your vision and blood drum in your ears. Drops of sweat fell from his chest to your ass tickling down to your sides and onto the sheet as he rode you, not losing his rhythm for a second.
His moves became more urgent, until he buried himself inside you one last time. He groaned a series of expletives under his breath before biting down on your shoulder as he came inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum. His fingers released their grip around your throat, allowing much-needed oxygen to fill your lungs and a second orgasm, even more intense than the first, consume you. You collapsed on the bed all strength leaving your limbs, as the room came back into focus, your heightened senses perceiving everything all at once.
Negan rolled off of you onto his back, his arm resting over his eyes, as Simon laid down against the pillows, a sly grin plastered over his face.
“Damn, boss,“ he wiped his brow with his thumb. “If only all dreams came true.”
Your reply was a tired but satisfied hum of agreement. A girl could dream, but making it come true was so much better.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
You stirred awake at the break of dawn. Taking in your surroundings you realized that you were still in Negan’s bed. It was dark outside, but the first rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains. You felt spent and sore, your skin sticky with the remnants of sweat and dried cum. The bitemark on your neck was still tender, but you wore it with pride as proof of Negan’s claim over you. Turning your head, you found him lying sprawled out on his stomach, his breathing deep and even, but Simon’s side of the bed was empty, the wrinkled sheets cold already.
You sat up carefully, searching for your clothes in the dim light, when you felt a strong arm circle around your waist.
“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” Negan’s raspy drawl made you shiver.
“Back to my room?” you looked at him over your shoulder.
“Nuh-uh,” he pulled you back against his chest. “You are staying. I want you all to myself for round two in the morning. And after that I may even change my mind about fucking you at the Monday briefing.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” you tried to untangle yourself from his hold but were easily overpowered after a playful struggle and his expert fingers finding your tickle spot.
“Just sass me, doll, and you shall see, along with all the filthy ideas I have on my mind.”
The alluring promise made you relax against him, dark words whispered in the twilight lulling you back to sleep, and another fantasy taking shape in your imagination already.
#twd#the walking dead#negan#twd negan#jeffrey dean morgan#twd fic#twd fan fiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fan fiction#negan fic#negan fan fiction#twd negan fic#twd negan fan fiction#smut#negan smut#twd negan smut#twd simon#negan x reader#twd negan x reader#negan x you#twd negan x you#jdm#negan's thirst squad
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Food For Thought
Something quite smutty I wrote a few months ago and originally posted on AO3. It's quite a long read, but I thought I might as well post it on here.
Pennywise x reader, Bob Gray x reader.
Genre: smut, horror
word count: 4578
Teeth. Rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth piercing her neck then, taking root in the thrumming jugular vein in her neck. It burns, it burns so fucking bad that she’s surprised the intense pain hasn’t taken it’s inevitable toll on her yet, although she questions if perhaps her mind is trying to separate itself from her body. Somehow, she’s still aware of her surroundings, although everything appears hazy. Around her, everything is spinning, spinning, spinning as if she has just gotten off a fast whirling carousel after eating one too many cotton candies.
Her head swims, not able to rationalize a thought that makes sense, or any thoughts at all. The blinding pain is so extreme, resembling the feeling of a thousand needles stabbed into her skin without a care or a goal, agonizingly slow and painfully breaking the skin apart to expose little streams of warm blood that puddle together at her feet.
She wants to let out a noise, any noise. Her mind screams at her to call for help, be smart, use the vocal cords mother nature blessed her with. Instead, all that leaves her now iron tasting, blood filled mouth is the last soft, dying gurgle of a defeated prey.
Her body is covered in a soft film of sweat when she wakes, barely registering her unaware, still very much asleep husband that lies next to her. Her heart races, adrenaline coursing through her on edge body as she attempts at steadying her ragged, uneven breath. The clean, white sheets are bundled up at the foot of the bed, odds-on kicked off by her at the pinnacle of her nightmare. A shaky sigh leaves her lips as she runs her clammy hand through the sweat soaked strands of her hair.
The same reoccurring nightmare has been terrorizing her for the past 7 days, getting worse and worse, feeling more realistic each time it enters her mind. The bags under her eyes now have a purple hue to them due to the lack of sleep she has been getting. Truth of the matter is, she has been too frightened of going to sleep at night, doing as much as avoiding it entirely. There was enough housework to keep her busy, and that was even after she had been done going through about every single file she could probably prepare for upcoming work meetings.
Her husband, Michael, had laughed at her silly avoidance behavior, telling her that steering clear of such a silly thing as a simple nightmare would only make it worse. And so, with Michael’s scornful words ringing in her ears, she decided to give sleep one more chance. A decision which she deeply regretted by now.
Beside her, the man in question is still peacefully asleep, unaware of the horrors playing through his wife’s mind. Wobbly legs swing over the side of their shared bed, eyeballing additional crescent, nail shaped imprints on her legs in the soft shine of the moonlight invitingly streaming through the opened window. Another sigh falls of her parched lips, this time more in annoyance than in an attempt at calming herself down. She has the habit of attempting to fight off the monster who’s teeth claim her neck nightly, except, in the real world, no one is there, which only results in her accidentally marking up her own skin while asleep. Still, it is freaky how many scratches are carved into her skin by now. It’s hard to believe she has done them all in the span of just a week. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think…
But now she is just scaring herself. Monsters don’t exist and she wasn’t a child any longer, she had long passed the age of believing in anything supernatural or evil.
Slowly, her uncovered feet connect with the cold linoleum tiles, carefully tiptoeing over to the bathroom Michael and her shared. Before locking the fake silver handled door, she flicks the light switch on and scans the bathroom in its entirety, something she hasn’t done since she was a teenager. she carried her childhood fears with her for quite a while longer than just her childhood, but eventually, she had grown out of them. Something that seems irrelevant to the reoccurring nightmare.
Come on, she tells herself as she sits down on the toilet seat with shaky hands, how old are you again? Old enough to be married. Old enough to have a degree and a job. Old enough for her mother to start asking for grandchildren. Way too old to be scared over puerile, meaningless nightmares.
Once the toilet is flushed, and with them, hopefully her fears – something her mother had taught her a long time ago; after a bad dream, you flush the toilet and down the drain goes the nightmare – her tired eyes find their reflection in the bathroom mirror. She washes her hands, slow but thorough, the water washing away the remnants of foolish dread.
Maybe she should paint the town red again, it suddenly hits her. The thought of going out was something that hadn’t occurred to her in quite a while, but maybe a sloppy, rough fuck from a complete stranger in an unfamiliar setting would be exactly what it would take to get her mind off of things.
And so, at quarter to one in the middle of the night, a young woman in a skin tight dress tiptoes out of the half empty apartment, her husband left soundlessly asleep, blissfully unaware of his wife’s infidelity. The door softly falls in the lock behind her and the warmth of the lingering summer air hits her face in a comforting way, as if to tell her ‘don’t worry. He won’t find out. He’s never found out before.’
The empty asphalt is silent under the roaring Audi, and her ringless finger – she’s not stupid enough to wear her wedding ring on a night like this – flicks through the similar sounding radio stations, silently pondering if it was worth going to The Sitting Duck, a bar on the outskirts of Derry. Derry was a small town, mostly consisting out of elderly. Anyone with a future had left the dying excuse of a town long ago.
In her mind, in theory, she knew she should feel guilty about cheating on the man whom she pledged faithfulness to in front of the alter, but she could not muster up the strength to actually be guilt ridden. She loves Michael, she does. But a girl has needs, and love won’t fill up those lust crazed, empty holes.
-
When she spots him – him and the balding 60 year old man a few seats away from him, who’s undressing eyes roam over her like a starving animal observing it’s next meal – she can tell he’s not from Derry. No one born and raised in Derry dresses or smells that good. She walks past the fine-looking and deliciously scented man (cinnamon? Pumpkin? Some strong earthy undertone) and sits down across from him, where she observes the gangly man like a scientist examines bacteria under a microscope before deciding if she wants to close in on the kill.
He is a man of importance, it radiates off of him effortlessly like a heatwave in the middle of June. His suit clad shoulders are broad, and his legs are clunkily folded under the bar, and oh, good God, she realizes, he must be taller than any man she has ever had before. His features imply that he’s a young man, older than the woman sniffing him out like a famished dog, but not by more than a handful of years. In his white gloved hand is what seem like a bloody Mary. Typical.
His hair is dark and slightly messy – not that she minds; if she was allowed to have her way with him, his messy hair would be the last thing either of them had to worry about – and his eyes-
Fuck.
And his electric eyes have found hers, amusement glistering on the surface. A god awful embarrassment red sneaks up her heated cheeks, and she’s sure she looks like a creep, or a stalker, or maybe both; a creepy stalker, but no. He is actually tapping the seat next to him in an inviting fashion, cocks his head to the side as if to dare her to come over. She dares.
“Hi,” she sheepishly introduces herself to the hypnotizing being in front of her. A lazy smile graces his lips as he shakes her stretched out, ringless hand with his gloved one.
“Hello,” his voice is unsurprisingly husky, the gravel of that singly greeting sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you looking thirsty from over there, all by yourself.”
Before she can even begin to mutter her apology, sorry-I-am-a-complete-idiot or maybe even a refuting huh-who-me-no-way!, he raises her glass to her, then winks. The fucker winks.
“You know, you can just order them at the bar,” he teases her, nudges her with his elbow like they’ve been friends for years.
“Gee, thanks. I’m not allowed out of the basement much. Not used to this whole leaving the house thing,” she jokes, and he throws his head back laughing like a little kid, and butterflies flutter through her entire being without as much as a warning. Jesus, this man was really God damn fine.
He grins, introduces himself as Bob Gray, and orders her a bloody Mary with extra lime, the assumption she made about his own pick-me-up turning out to be accurate.
“So, what do you do?” she curiously inquires, making a case of brushing her thigh past his knee while settling down on the bar stool right next to the lanky man.
“Do?”
“For work. Or are those gloves a fashion statement?”
“What gloves?” She stares at his uncovered hands, no ring, nimble but long fingers wrapped loosely around his glass and heat creeps up her cheeks for the second time that night. She could’ve sworn he was wearing gloves earlier. Her eyes dart from his hands back up to this bright blue eyes and plump lips, curved up into a grin, all teeth and genuinity.
“You’re a bit of an odd one, aren’t you?” she’s starting to feel an awful lot like having a fever dream, the sense of slipping between being asleep and wakefulness swimming through her mind. Could it be the lack of sleep from the previous nights? It had to be, or perhaps a trick of the light. Before the disorienting bewilderment consumes her, said ungloved fingers link with her bare arm to catch her attention, careful and soft, as if not to startle her.
“Are you alright?” God, and he’s nice. He’s nice and he is funny and he looks even better than all her favorite dirty daydreams, and she wants the nightmares gone so bad and she wants more of his touch, more of him, so fucking bad.
“Yes. Yes, more than fine, actually.”
Michael doesn’t pop up in her mind like he usually does when she accompanies an attractive stranger home, not this time. She could be sorry, but it seems hypocritical. There was no way in hell she was letting the man sitting next to her go, not with the way his lingering touches, against her knee, soft on her arm, pressing on her shoulders, still burn on her skin like winter fire. Just as she had suspected, the current stranger does not live in the hopeless excuse for a town, but he does stay at the Derry townhouse. He takes her there, wastes no time on niceties, just how she likes it. It’s like he can read her every thought, sense the desperation for relief radiating off of her.
Sweet, plump lips bridge the distance the second she gets her coat off, hungry, desperate, searching. Biting.
“F-fuck,” she breathes against him, warm blood dripping down her bottom lip like honied tea spilling over the edge of a hot mug.
“I’m sorry,” the red liquid coat his apologizing lips now, curled up in a Cheshire cat grin. His tongue unapologetically darts out from in between his parted lips, long and pink, licking away her spilled blood, first off of his own lips and then of hers, like she’s nothing more than a tasty treat. Fuck. She hit the fucking kink lottery.
“You’re not,” she ascertains playfully, hands brazenly and without a warning shoving the lanky man that easily towers over her down on the musty couch in the deprecated room of the townhouse. He lets her, she’s awfully aware of how he lets her small frame overpower his much bigger one. In a tangle of limbs, the man of all her dirty daydreams yet to come yanks her down with him, lips chasing each other as a unexpectedly soft chuckle escapes from her throat.
“You’re right, little one,” his breath is hot on her neck, and his hand tugs on her hair with a pleasant sting to it. His teeth graze the undisturbed skin hungrily, rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth piercing her neck and then his tongue leaves a hot, long stripe down the length of her throat. “I’m not so sorry. I’m not sorry at all.”
The tight but steady grip his big hands hold on her hips renders her dizzy with white hot, blazing want for the stranger below her. A laugh, one similar to the one he had let out earlier on the evening, but now somehow more cruel, escapes from his throat as she wiggles under his iron grip, desperate for more physical contact.
“Tell me what you want, little one. Maybe I will decide to be kind enough to give it to you,” the pet name he has for her flush her cheek a bright red and send an unapologetic rush down her legs,
“I want you,” she whimpers meagerly, entrapped by the delicious dig of his warm digits in her sure-to-be-bruised-by-tomorrow skin, and he cocks up one uninterested eyebrow at her sweaty face.
“Not good enough.”
“I want…. I want you inside of me,” and she’s convinced that did the trick when his fingers finally move, away from her hips and lower, lower, lower… The hem of her dress comes apart under his probing fingers, a soft, anticipating groan escapes her. His fingers are so close to where she needs them most, the warmth of him radiating brightly against the soft flesh of her thighs, and then… And then he stops.
He snorts, displeased yet entertained by the eagerness of her trashing around in his grip, the needy whine falling off her lips.
“Your cock inside of me, I want your cock inside of me, please!” she begs, her dress is ripped to pieces now, something that would cost any other stranger a mean fucking slap across the face, but not him. Not Bob fucking Gray with his magic hands and silver tongue.
The old couch creeks underneath the shifting weight of the tangled together mess of limbs as he flips her naked body over sloppily like a rag doll, rough and careless and pressed along the length of her body. The suit on her one night only lover crinkles as he ruts his hips against her completely naked form messily, his hand teasingly on her clit, insufferably slow, soft circles. His cock is hard and infuriatingly out of reach, the few layers of clothing extracting a needy groan from her.
“Such a dirty, dirty girl,” he grins in her hair as he pulls his hips away from hers, the contrast of the delicious sound of the teeth of his zipper being undone and the emptiness against her behind earning him an eager buck of her soft hips.
For just a fleeting moment, a questioning when the hell did he take my panties off runs through her mind, but the thought is gone as fast as it showed up when he ruthlessly teases her already dripping cunt with the head of his cock, so barely there and wet, and fuck, since when was she such a pleading mess? A chuckle leaves his lips when she eagerly bucks her hips back again, begging and writhing against the tall stranger for more.
“I want your cock inside of me, who?” He’s cruel, he’s awfully and unreasonably cruel and she feels like tears could stream down her cheeks from pure, undenied pleasure that she knows he can give her.
“B-Bob, please,” she gasps, the tip of his leaking cock on her throbbing clit now, hot and heavy and- and then it’s gone again. A tsk in both her ears so vivid it feels like the noise is coming from inside her skull overpowers her own pleading whine for some contact, any at all.
“Sir?” it’s a strangled question coming from her throat that provides her nothing but a correcting squeeze, first her ass, then her nipple when she stays quiet underneath him.
“Come on, little one. You know what I want. You’ve said it before,” he hotly hisses down her neck, teeth sinking in the soft skin of her shoulder as a warning, and then it hits her. She does not stop to wonder how he knows about her past experiences, too drunken on the unadulterated bliss of him.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, please!”
“Good girl. Good, impatient, little girl,” he giggles, he fucking giggles openmouthed against her cheek like he owns her as he sheaths his full length into her cunt all at once, hot, hard and filling.
Stars rest on the field of her vision when he doesn’t even fucking bother to let her adjust to the alien full feeling of him, hitting every single spot so God damn ass kickingly perfect that it takes her a full minute to realize that moaning noise is coming from her. As far as she’s able to rationalize any different thought than oh God, oh God, oh fuck, yes she ceases her whimpering.
“Don’t hold back those tasty moans now,” he growls, almost sounding inhuman, blended with the rhythmical thrust of his hips, knocking the breath out of her. His cock hits spots she wasn’t aware of having, like he shaped his cock to fit her dripping cunt like a perfect match.
“Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had in your miserable short little life time. Better than your disappointingly, small-dicked husband,” the pretty stranger has a way of making every word that leaves his mouth sound filthy. He has her draped uselessly over the couch as he pounds into her like there’s no tomorrow, it’s hard to get anything else but mind-dulling moans out.
“Tell me,” he hisses, pulling her body flush against his, his big hand wrapped dangerously tight around her throat.
“Y-you have the best cock I’ve ever felt in my miserable short little life time,” she chokes out with heated cheeks of embarrassment, knowing the man currently filling her up won’t be satisfied with any less. “Better than anyone else’s.”
He chuckles, letting go off her throat not a moment too soon, black patches in her vision threatening to take over, the rhythmic slap of his flesh against her roaring around in her ears.
“I’m going to c-cum,” she gasps, the satisfying stretch of his cock too much with the way his nimble fingers have found their way down from her throat to her clit.
“Oh no, you won’t. Not until daddy says you can.”
She clenches dangerously tight around his cock, earning a harsh slap against her aching pussy, leaving her gasping for air.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to cum yet, my eager little cum slut,” he hisses against the base of her skull, tugging on her hair painfully brutal. The tone in his voice is ruthless and threatening, but his cock twitches inside her like it’s living its own life, and the mere thought of his warm cum dripping out of her has her moaning, and she clenches around his girth again, prepared to deal with whatever consequences he sees fit to punish her with.
The intake of his breath is sharp when his seed spills, hot and thick, triggering her own orgasm. The tremble in legs would’ve been sure to have her fall to her knees if it wasn’t for the old couch underneath her, supporting her weight. Stars appear behind her closed lids, hoping, praying to whatever deity that the overpowering, blissful surge between her legs never ends, that perfect Robert Gray and his perfect cock never leave from the snug space between her trembling legs.
They stay like that for a while, minutes, hours, after they come, she couldn’t tell you even if you held a gun to her head. The final peaceful moments before the storm. Then, he pulls out of her, cock gone soft and his seed dripping down her legs like it belongs there. She bites her lip, sad to let him go. He pats her head, as if to tell her good job and she finally switches positions, her muscles thanking her.
The couch lets out a protesting creek when she shifts her weight from her bruised knees to her sore ass, the ripped up dress she wore earlier that night catching her eye.
“You fucked up my dress, you know.”
“I want to eat you,” he ignores her remark with a low growl, and she laughs, closing her eyes as she revels in the afterglow of sex and uncramping her muscles. It’s like a second orgasm all over again.
“As much as I’d love that, I have to get back to my husband,” when he stays silent, she turns to look at the handsome man in front of her, only to see his blue eyes flicker to an unsettling shade of yellow and drool dribble down his chin. It’s unsettling, triggering goosebumps down her entire body.
“I really should get going,” she repeats, blinking twice, praying that what she’s seeing in front of her is an illusion, a trick of the light, the unenviable costs of her lack of sleep.
It’s none of those things. It’s not an illusion, nor a trick of the light, nor consequences of insomnia. In front of her now, where handsome Bob Gray stood mere seconds ago, now stands a terrifying 7 feet tall clown. His hair is a fiery red and his body is clad in a Victorian style clown costume. She has never really been scared of clowns before, but then again, the clowns she did meet didn’t shapeshift from handsome men into clown creatures in front of her, nor does the clown face seem etched into their skin.
“Y-you’re not real. You can’t be real,” He — no, it, because the being in front her could not be human in any way, shape or form — uncovers its teeth in a sickening twist that could almost pass as a smile, teeth that suddenly look all too familiar to her, she now realizes with a start.
“I-I’m not real?” It mocks the small, now trembling woman on the musty townhouse couch in front of the large being. “My cock was real enough for you, was it not?”
“You… If I knew what you were, I would’ve never…” She needs to get away, or she can guess how this is going to end. How her life is going to end. Oh, God. She fucked this. It. Whatever the fuck it was.
“Please, daddy,” it ridicules her voice, and fuck, it sounds eerily similar to her own. “You have the best cock I’ve ever felt in my miserable short little life time.”
It watches as the doomed human now uselessly claws her nails at the door, naked and afraid. A laugh bubbles in its throat.
“Don’t go hurting my feelings now, little human,” the clown’s voice is so different from Bob’s, higher pitched and laced with insanity and sadism. “You would be so lucky to have me in this form.”
“F-fuck you!” she attempts to retaliate before realizing that she should probably focus on getting the fuck out of here, away from the clown in every sense of the word. Her nails desperately dig at the wooden door that challengingly stands in front of her, the doorknob that she knows was there earlier now gone.
“Oh, but I did, little one, and you thoroughly enjoyed it,” it says in a singsong-y purr, higher now than she has ever heard it, and the pet name it made up for her now sounds more like a fucking threat than anything else. “Look at me.”
Turning around to face the shapeshifter may be the hardest thing she has ever had to do, but the monster waits for her as if it has all the time in the world, - it probably does, she realizes - a demonic laugh ringing through her head, sharp and deafening. Her naked body trembles as she finally turns, tears ready to spill over her sweaty cheeks, faced with eight beady little eyes and equally as many legs, it’s gigantic mouth curled up in a sickening smile.
She screams. She screams like she’s never screamed in her life before, a bad horror movie fucking scream that cracks, insanity closing in on her mind before the monster does.
“Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear,” it roars through her skull, and it’s so close she can almost taste it’s foul breath on her face, stinking of blood and shit and piss and death. The fear is paralyzing, there is nothing more she can do but sit and watch as the horrifying being, enormous and disgusting, heaves itself towards her trembling frame, with only one purpose. To kill. Her screaming as ceased now, all that’s left is a pile of hopelessness filled to the brim with fear, as if it’s been the only emotion she has ever felt before. Hot tears stream down her pretty face, but it awakens no mercy in the beast’s eight yellow eyes, only hunger and a sick sense of sadistic joy.
It’s humongous jaw then snaps open, glistering teeth welcoming her field of vision with a sickening cackle that can only come from the disturbed soul of the entity.
Teeth. Rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth piercing her neck then, taking root in the thrumming jugular vein in her neck. It burns, it burns so fucking bad that she’s surprised the intense pain hasn’t taken it’s inevitable toll on her yet, although she questions if perhaps her mind is trying to separate itself from her body. Somehow, she’s still aware of her surroundings, although everything appears hazy. Around her, everything is spinning, spinning, spinning as if she has just gotten off a fast whirling carousel after eating one too many cotton candies.
Her head swims, not able to rationalize a thought that makes sense, or any thoughts at all. The blinding pain is so extreme, resembling the feeling of a thousand needles stabbed into her skin without a care or a goal, agonizingly slow and painfully breaking the skin apart to expose little streams of warm blood that puddle together at her feet.
She wants to let out a noise, any noise. Her mind screams at her to call for help, be smart, use the vocal cords mother nature blessed her with. Instead, all that leaves her now iron tasting, blood filled mouth is the last soft, dying gurgle of a defeated prey.
“Hmm... you taste as good as you feel.”
#pennywise x you#pennywise x reader#slasher imagines#slasher x reader#slasher smut#it stephen king#it chapter two#it chapter one#robert gray x reader#robert gray x you#bob gray x reader#bob grey x you#smut#horror#food for thought
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The Longest Library #4: The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle (Or, Eidolon feels their OTHER age just a little too clearly and needs a nap now)
(This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.)
Rundown: A unicorn gets lost in that thing that happens where you exist in a weird, neverending pocket of time and when you finally leave your room your family is like 'oh my god we haven't seen you in three months! The dog died while you were gone!' except for her she doesn't look like hell because she's a Fucking Unicorn, but she does figure out that literally every other member of her race has gone missing from the world. She travels with a baby-faced magic man and a bitter but not yet broken older woman to find out where the hell everyone is. 5/5, makes me feel ancient and tired but no longer lonely.
So as a reader, almost all of these reviews (more like reflections) are just that: reflections of myself. So I'll be talking a bunch about the things that spoke to me and my soul. It might not necessarily speak to others in the same ways, with the same words, however, my ratings are based on how enjoyable I think others might find them, and I hope that in seeing that something could speak so richly and deeply to me, that others might give it a chance in the hopes that it might speak to them too.
This is a book that speaks in my language. It's a way of describing things that's a step to the left of your average descriptions, but the images they invoke are visceral and heavily textured.
From the very first page:
"She did not look anything like a horned horse, as unicorns are often pictured, being smaller and cloven-hoofed, and possessing that oldest, wildest grace that horses have never had, that deer have only in a shy, thin imitation and goats in dancing mockery"
God damn. God DAMN. Mmm. Tasty.
"The door did not swing open, and the iron bars did not thaw into starlight. But the harpy lifted her wings, and the four sides of the cage fell slowly away and down, like the petals of some great flower waking at night. And out of the wreckage the harpy bloomed, terrible and free, screaming, her hair swinging like a sword. The moon withered and fled."
AUGH. FUCK. YES. FUCK ME UP, PETER. MMM.
"The magic knows what it wants to do, he thought, bouncing as the horse dashed across a creek. But I never know what it knows. Not at the right time, anyway, I'd write a letter, if I knew where it lived."
So, Schmendrick (the baby faced magic man I mentioned before) has the same feelings about his magical talents as I have about my own, magic or no. My own magic comes and it goes. It's incredibly intuitive in nature and almost refuses to yield to order, logic, or ceremony. Same with my art, my writing, or anything that comes from the spirit. Even things like expressing my emotions feel this way. It's there when it's there, and it's not when it's not, and it's not when it's there. It doesn't feel like a part of me at times, despite being the purest description of my own soul when it decides to take form. Like an absent parent that never once hugged you but knows exactly what kind of candy bar you currently like and that you're nervous about your first boyfriend and the way he talks to you sometimes and how lonely things are getting. I grow resentful for it's absence, and have not grown welcoming to it's presence. It's something that needs to be worked on soon. In fact, Molly's sentiments on first seeing the unicorn kind of describe it pretty well:
"And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up; barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come, why do you come now?"
That has always been a powerful moment that whenever I see it in the movie (and especially having finally gotten to read it in the book), I've come to understand it deeper, and deeper. Only now realizing that I've lost an entire decade of my life to a violently interrupted life and feeling like if my talents weren't stifled by years spent crying, in pain, and not really wishing to be dead but wishing I Weren't, I could be ten years ahead. And only now does it come to me, in fits and starts, when I've been displaced and scattered and turned to half-a-person, not when I called desperately to it, needing something, anything stronger than me, and being given nothing. Why now? I've gone far enough without you. Molly forgives her. I myself become pale with a feeling of unworthiness.
"The rind of the country cracked, and the flesh of it peeled back into gullies and ravines or shriveled into scabby hills."
There's just so much TEXTURE in a lot of these descriptions. I feel like the background artists in the movie could have done something a bit darker and grimier, although the movie did skip over the fact that the land was in a magically induced famine, to technically it wasn't relevant. Although I feel like the land itself being so scarred makes the king and his whole atmosphere come into sharper focus.
"Drinn opened his eyes and gave her an angry look. 'WE earned nothing," He protested. "It was our parents and grandparents whom the witch asked for help, and I'll grant you that they were as much to blame as Haggard, in their way. We would have handled the matter quite differently." And every middle-aged face scowled at every older face.
Boomers.
"The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses, paralyzing ailments, and secret judo holds. Molly picked up a rock."
Not going to lie, this part made me laugh.
"No hooves could have made these, Molly thought dazedly; the earth had torn itself shrinking from the burden of the Bull. She thought of the unicorn, and her heart paled."
"The Red Bull did not know her, and yet she could feel that it was herself he sought, and no white mare. Fear blew her dark then, and she ran away, while the Bull's raging ignorance filled the sky and spilled over into the valley."
The descriptions of the Bull especially capture just how heavy and menacing and seemingly mindlessly terrifying it is, not just physically (which is very effectively communicated mind you) but psychologically. The unicorn's terror is my own. There's no fear like the root of you realizing the person in front of you is intent on soul-murder, yet wholly ignorant of their own deeds. Being run down and forced to submit, forced to die, and realizing the blind, animal nature of your attacker. It's how they are. Like blaming a wolf for eating cattle. It can't be reasoned with.
"If she would try one more time to escape- but she was the Bull's and not her own. The magician had one glimpse of her, pale and lost between the pale horns, before the wild red shoulders surged across his sight. Then, swaying and sick and beaten, he closed his eyes and let his hopelessness march through him, until something woke somewhere that had wakened in him once before. He cried aloud, for fear and joy.
What words the magic spoke this second time, he never knew surely. They left him like eagles, and he let them go; and when the last one was away, the emptiness rushed back with a thunderclap that threw him on his face. It happened as quickly as that. This time he knew before he picked himself up that the power had been and gone."
You know, doing anything that has to do with having a soul is exactly this exhausting sometimes. I get excited and talk about my interests more energetically than none? I feel like I just shouted it at the top of my lungs and violently shook the person I was talking to by the shoulders. They say I was even toned, quiet even, but I'm out of breath and my heart is in my throat and I feel a little sick in the arms from it.
"For a moment she turned in a circle, staring at her hands, which she held high and useless, close to her breast. She bobbed and shambled like an ape doing a trick, and her face was the silly, bewildered face of a joker's victim. And yet she could make no move that was not beautiful. Her trapped terror was more lovely than any joy that Molly had ever seen, and that was the most terrible thing about it."
*sips the words like fine wine* *inhales through their teeth* MMMmm fuck yeah~
"I am myself still. This body is dying, I can feel it rotting all around me. How can anything that is going to die be real? How can it be truly beautiful?"
See, I have the opposite problem, where I feel like I've been long dead, and people keep digging up my corpse and forcing me to walk on broken, stringy legs, the moist, forgiving soil not even yet dried. I can feel it living all around me. How can anything that is going to live be unreal? How can it be truly horrific? I'm supposed to be a memory by now.
"Prince Lir's face bent toward her: older by five dragons, but handsome and silly still."
I love impactful but unconventional measurements of time and space like this. More of these please. 'You've been gone since seven arguments ago! And you know how slow the old man is to anger.' 'I've aged by three national crises in the span of two weeks, please help.'
"...holding her voice together like the edges of a wound."
*licks the goddamn wine glass like an animal* MMPH
"There was too much to hold, too much ever to use; and still he found himself weeping with the pain of his impossible greed. He thought, or said, or sang, I did not know that I was so empty, to be so full."
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"I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret."
I have been small, and some part of me is small yet. I am full of terror, and hunger of death, though I cannot utter a noise, and I cannot die.
Please read this book.
Have a song that I really like and will likely make an old-fashioned AMV out of it at some point.
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4 down 293 to go.
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Treats Best Left Uneaten.
HAPPY SPOOPAWEEN!!!!
Summary: You learn some horrifying, unforgivable information about your boyfriend while the two of you get ready for a Halloween costume party.
Rating: T for gross Russian snacks and mention of sexual acts.
Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.
Set before “Questions and Answers” and after “Tricks! Tricks! Tricks!”
SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Tomorrow, I will be making a special announcement about the future of the CHC as it relates to the coming New Year, along with some special fics coming up in the series! I will also be announcing a list of some potential future (non CHC) fics for the Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Frank Castle x Reader, and/or Frank Castle x Karen Page pairings. Essentially, I’ll be making a list of fics I’ve had mulling around in my head for a while, and then y’all can put your two cents in on what you think looks most interesting to you via reblogging, commenting, sending in an ask, or sending me a DM! Obviously, I’ll do whatever I feel like I can/want to do, but I do want to know what you guys want to see so that I at least know what to prepare.
Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @nebulous-leo
“When there’s something strange/ in your neighborhood/ who you gonna call?”
“Ghostbusters!” you sing along with your phone, half-heartedly bouncing and bopping around the bathroom attached to yours and Piotr’s bedroom while trying to get your hair in a bun. “Are you ready for tonight, baby?”
Neena had invited you and a couple of the other X-Men –and Nate and Wade—to a Halloween party with a costume contest. The prize was arguably mediocre –a date night basket with some popcorn packets and a couple b-list horror movies—but there’d yet to be a contest in life you didn’t want to win, so you and Piotr had signed up as a couple.
And, even if you didn’t wind up winning, the two of you were still guaranteed to have a magical night as Cinderella and Prince Charming.
“I think we will both be more ready when we are properly dressed,” Piotr quips back from the bedroom. He tacks on a moment later, probably thinking you can’t hear him since the pitch of his voice has dropped, “I am ready to not listen to ‘Spooky Scary Skeletons’ for another year, though.”
You skip ahead in your playlist to “Spooky Scary Skeletons,” then cackle when Piotr groans –then double over, borderline howling, when he steps into the bathroom just to grab your phone and change the song. “Why do you hate that song so much?”
“My students play it nonstop during October,” he laments, sounding almost overwhelmed by the ordeal. “I could probably recite lyrics in sleep.”
You chuckle and pat his arm. “Almost done, baby. Then it’ll be nonstop Christmas music.”
“That, I am fine with. There are many types of Christmas songs.”
“Touché.” You try to get your hair to stay balanced on your head in a neat bun, then grimace when it does literally anything but that. “Hey, babe, can you hold my hair in place while I bobby-pin it into oblivion?”
“Konechno.”
You help him get his hands in the right position and make sure he’s holding your hair tightly enough –he always errs on the side of gentle, given his size and strength—then start bobby-pinning your hair into submission. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to trick or treating more than the costume party. And, yes, before you ask, it’s completely because of the free candy.”
Piotr chuckles as he adjusts one of his fingers so you can slide a bobby-pin into place. “Understandable.”
“What’s this?” you gasp, feigning shock. “No lectures on healthy eating or nutrition?”
“Believe it or not, I do enjoy treats,” Piotr fires back as he rolls his eyes –which you can see in the mirror. “I just enjoy them in proper moderation.”
“As in, ‘never, also eat some kale.’”
“As in, ‘eat one or two and save rest for later.’” He laughs when you stick your tongue out at him via the mirror, and sticks his own tongue out at you in retaliation before continuing. “I actually think some of it is cultural difference. Russian food has heavy emphasis on savory and sour flavors. Coming to America for first time…” His voice trails off, and he shakes his head with a mildly aggravated sigh. “You use so much sugar in everything. And so many artificial… everything. That is why I avoid most snacks and treats. There is just so much junk in them.”
“That makes sense,” you agree as you test your hair’s hold before scowling and going back to sticking bobby-pins in every which way. “We definitely put an emphasis on mass production and all that.”
“No kidding,” Piotr mutters under his breath as he sticks a few bobby-pins into the back of your bun where you can’t see well. “Although, I will admit, Halloween candy makes me miss syrok.”
“Oh?” you ask, smiling at the nostalgic and slightly wistful expression on his face. “Do we have an equivalent of that in America?”
“Not that I have found. It seems to be European only –specific to Russia, Ukraine, Lithuania, that sort of region.”
“Gotcha, gotcha.” You do your best to hold still while he secures another bobby-pin for you, then opt to vent your rapidly building boredom by asking another question. “What is ‘syrok,’ anyway?”
“It is curd snack,” Piotr answers, still focused on trying to get your hair to stay where you want it to.
You frown. “What the hell is a ‘curd snack?’”
“Oh, you know, curd cheese and sweetener mixed together, then dipped in chocolate,” Piotr says, like it’s the most common knowledge thing in the world. “It is very good, actually. Sometimes, they come with fruit fillings—”
But you can’t process anything else he’s saying. You’re still stuck on—
“Cheese… dipped in chocolate?” you exclaim, horrified. “Are you serious?”
Piotr blinks, seemingly taken aback by your reaction. “What? It is dessert. It tastes good.”
“It’s cheese dipped in chocolate!” you repeat, aghast. You gag at the thought of someone eating chocolate-covered cheese and press the back of your hand against your mouth. “Ew! That is so gross! That’s nasty!”
“Okay, first, it is sweetened,” Piotr argues, catching your gaze in the mirror. “And it is curd cheese, which basically has no flavor of own. The cheese is just there for texture.”
“No! No, no, that’s still gross! Oh God, I’ve kissed a mouth that’s eaten chocolate covered cheese!”
Piotr rolls his eyes as you gag and retch –though the corner of his mouth still turns up in a smile. “You have eaten far worse.”
“I have not!”
“You eat Cheetos!”
“Yeah, and those aren’t chocolate-covered cheese!”
Piotr merely shakes his head and chuckles. “Just wait until you find out about hematogen.”
You blink, then slowly meet his gaze in the mirror as a sense of foreboding rises in you. “Dare I even ask?”
“It is Russian candy bar.”
“Okay, that’s fi—”
“Made with cow’s blood.”
Your eyes widen, and you turn around so you can properly look at him. “What the actual fuck?”
Piotr shrugs. “It is nutritional.”
“We have to divorce now,” you say, which makes your boyfriend snort and roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I am a woman of standards, and I cannot be partners with someone who eats chocolate covered cheese and candy bars with actual fucking cow’s blood mixed in them.”
Piotr gives you an incredulous look. “‘Woman of standards.’”
“Hey,” you laugh as you poke his chest. “Having literally no standards whatsoever is still a standard!”
The two of you chuckle together, then Piotr hugs you against him and smiles down at you. “Ya lyublyu vas, myshka.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
His smile broadens, and he leans down to kiss you—
And you duck your head and press your hand against his cheek to stop him. “No! You’ve still eaten chocolate covered cheese! My lips cannot touch lips that have eaten such an atrocity!”
“Bozhe ty moy!” Piotr exclaims, laughing. “Are you serious?”
“It’s gross! It just is!”
“It is culturally normal where I am from!”
“And it’s gross where I’m from!”
Piotr gapes and shakes his head, still laughing. “Are you—” He drops his voice and points at you. “You have sucked my dick. More than once. And you want to pour chocolate sauce on me and lick it off. That is gross.”
“No, that is sexy,” you retort, pointing back at him. “It’s sexy, and you just—”
Before you can argue further, Piotr takes advantage of your being distracted and swoops in, pressing a big, fat kiss against your lips.
“No!” you squeal against his lips, even though you’re laughing. You try and squirm away, but he manages to lock his arms around you before you can make your escape. “I’ve been contaminated!”
“Molchi,” Piotr mutters, smiling as he kisses you again and again and again.
“Ew,” you fake whine, even as you slide your arms around his neck and start kissing him back properly. “Chocolate-cheese lips.”
In the end, though, there’s not much you’re complaining about.
#sass writes#piotr rasputin x reader#colossus x reader#happy spoopaween!!!#also the snacks mentioned are real#@russia get your fucking shit together#x men fanfiction#deadpool fanfiction
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Boxbot Headcanons 4.0
Just...fuck. Here’s more.
-Raymond likes to play team sports all by himself, and by that I mean with a full complement of other Raymonds, since no one else can match his skill level. He hates how predictable this makes every game, though, since he literally knows what the other players are thinking at all times. On some occasions he will intentionally glitch himself, desperate to introduce SOME randomness into their strategy...
-Ernesto was the family tattletale as a kid, usually the one to inform Boxman of his siblings' antics. They got back at him by stealing his hats.
-Darrell's toddler model had a serious design flaw, a leaky valve somewhere in him that took Boxman far too long to find and fix. Until he did, the poor kid used to oil the bed a LOT, and is still really embarrassed about it.
-Shannon is really good with Linux, and has her own custom kernel on her computer, mostly so that none of the boys can figure out how to use it and snoop in on her stuff.
-Do not put Jethro in tiny clothes or makeup. Ever. He has a lot of humiliating memories from playing dress-up with Darrell and Shannon (really, just being dressed up by them against his will) when they were younger.
-Ernesto's actually got quite a love of fashion, to match his younger siblings (other than Jethro), and a part of that is collecting fancy hats and suits. However, the turtleneck look with his top hat is definitely his favorite -- in fact, he specifically requested it become his default appearance as part of his robo-adult upgrade.
-None of the adult/teen bots have their driver's license, or even a learner's permit -- they kind of just taught themselves to drive, mostly using videos game, since their dad sure wasn't going to. Ernesto and Darrell usually drive the Boxmore trucks, and carry fake IDs when they do so. (Boxman used to make them for extra cash in college)
-Magnets are forbidden anywhere in Boxmore, with the sole exception of the few on the fridge. And even then, only Boxman's allowed to touch them -- if any of the robots try to pick one up with their metal fingers it quickly turns into a (very sticky) disaster.
-Mr Logic used to beg Gar to go easy on the other Boxbots whenever they attack, and though he didn't quite understand Logic's relationship to them he did make an effort to do so, sometimes just sending them home with a juice box instead of fighting. Logic did the same with Rad, Enid, and even KO as they were hired, to much less results sadly.
-Darrell has a bad habit of chewing on things when he's stressed out -- pens, straws, drawstrings, his fingers, etc. (And his titanium teeth make this habit quite destructive!)
-Raymond's a surprisingly big reader -- that vocabulary's gotta come from somewhere! Naturally he likes romance novels and plays, but has been looking into a number of Fink's sword-and-sorcery recommendations. In between battles he spends a lot of time sneaking off to the library, and in fact between this and a bunch of other activities he's the one that spends the most time outside the factory.
---
Care for some Boxman ones too as a bonus?
-He writes in chicken scratch. Of course.
-He is actually ambidextrous -- he writes better with his human hand, and so considers himself more right-handed, but does a lot of other things better with his chicken claw.
-That robot eye totally has x-ray vision. PV needs to get some lead underwear ASAP. On a less creepy note, he can use it to easily diagnose and repair broken robots!
-Lord Boxman comes from a long line of famous joke villains, and that's why "Boxman" is used as a villain insult. He may or may not even have a distant relation to Dr Weakpoint...
-He actually is a decent chef, when he's able to focus on it. Unfortunately, being both a supervillain CEO and a single father of 6 makes that almost impossible.
-Boxy made all those sweet custom Boxmore action figures that Darrell has all over his room. They were supposed to be for a marketing promotion that fell through.
-There's still a few random junkfish still active at Boxmore, along with a few hanging out in the sewers right underneath, and the company does offer support and repairs for any customers that come in with the older models. For the most part, though, only Boxman himself ever really deals with them. He low-key loves seeing his old work still going strong after all these years.
---
And...fuck it all. Fink's an honorary Boxbot now, so why not a few for her and Venomous?
-Fink doesn't build pillow forts, instead she likes to build blanket nests, and burrow in them.
-Fink is absolutely that insufferable little kid who swears like a sailor and insults whatever she can over in-game chat, just to sound tough while griefing. She also has a nasty (in more ways than one) habit of forgetting to mute her mic while eating...
-PV's not a fan of videos game, but he LOVES board games! (Boards game?) Fink doesn’t really share his passion for them nowadays, so he’s secretly quite excited to try playing with the robots.
-Fink will eat anything if you pay/dare her enough. ANYTHING. Though, she's a rat, so she's usually fine.
-PV homeschools Fink, and she's actually a couple of grades ahead of other kids her age. (The 'Professor' thing isn't just for show!)
#a few of these may or may not have fics already in progress so stay tuned... ~^#ok ko#ok ko let's be heroes#emheadcanons
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I HAVE ISSUES (Part 7)
Series summary: Lance has always been an asshole. Womanizer, alcoholic, narcisitic, you name it, that’s Lance. But the question is… why?
A/N: PLOT IS PICKING UP... sorta. and YES! MORE THAN 800 WORDS!
Lance x plussize!reader
Word count: 1520
Summary: Lance is definitely improving with the added help of Dinah- now he had something important to ask you.
Warnings: dealing with feelings, vulnerability, fatphobic language, mild violence, insecurity
Part 6
(GIF not mine)
The room was eerily quiet as Dinah scribbled notes in her pink, holographic notebook. It was so quiet, Lance cringed at the sound of his clothes shifting against each other as he hugged his knees to his chest.
Lance had been seeing Dinah consistently every week for about a month and a half, and he had gotten very comfortable with her; (Y/N) was right, she really did help him. He was noticing fewer temper tantrums, he felt less depressed, he was being a bit more social instead of isolating himself, he felt a lot better.
“So why don’t you think she’ll accept your offer?” Dinah asked, looking up at him with a smile to comfort him.
Lance took a second to answer. “Well… because I’ve been an asshole to her for years,” he sighed, resting his chin on his knees, “I’ve been so rotten to her- why would she want to go out with me?”
“You have been nicer to her recently, correct?” she hummed, .
“I suppose,” he mumbled in reply.
“And you said last week that you apologized to her, is that right?” she continued.
“I did… she accepted it…” he hummed, “but what if she was just saying that to be nice?!”
Dinah sighed, looking him in the eye. “From the way you talk about (Y/N) I don’t think she’d fake forgiveness,” she explained softly, “and you can’t know for sure unless you ask her- I say it’s worth a try,”.
He sighed heavily, his stomach already twisting from nervousness. “I guess you’re right…” he nodded, taking a deep breath, “I’ll give it a try, I’ll ask her,”.
“Good! I’m glad you’re taking that risk,” she smiled, very proud of him. He was so closed off, she was happy he was opening himself up a bit. “And remember, even if she says no, that doesn’t mean you’re any less valuable, nor does it mean you aren’t making progress,” she reminded him.
You looked up from her book and smiled as she saw Lance waving goodbye to Dinah. “How was it? Do you feel better?” you asked, getting the car keys out of your bag. He had such a stressful week and he was really on edge, so this session was really needed.
“I feel good,” he nodded quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to talk… not yet anyway.
You smiled kindly as Lance watched you vacuum the living room. Lance had been sitting on the couch awfully quiet for the past few hours- he wasn’t normally like this.
“Are you okay, coach?” You asked, turning off the dirt devil for a minute so you could hear him.
He nodded unceremoniously.
“You don’t seem okay…” You hummed, sitting on the couch next to him, “you’re too quiet to be ‘okay’. What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath, trying gather up whatever courage he had- which wasn’t much. “I just… I wanna ask you something…” he mumbled.
“Anything,” you smiled sweetly, trying to subtly show that he was safe telling you.
“I Uhm… would you… Do ya… wanna Uhm… wanna go out sometime?” He asked shyly, “I can… want to take you out to… to dinner…”. He held his breath, waiting for your answer.
Your expression softened. Then became hesitant as your brows furrowed. Would it be wise to go out with your boss? Well… maybe… why not? “Sure,” you grinned
“Wait what?” Lance gaped. She actually said YES! He was so excited! “Yes? Yes! Thank you!” He squealed, “how about Friday night?”
“Sounds good to me,” she grinned, loving to see him smile so wide.
You were changing in the girl’s locker room at the gym, since Lance wanted to go out right after work. You’ve never seen him this excited for something since… ever. He had even done his own laundry for once, wanting his suit to be perfect. With all his preparations, you were a bit afraid you were underdressed. Was a pink dress too baby-ish? Maybe you should have worn flats…
You walked out of the locker room, still fluffing your hair to adjust it properly- this one stupid lock just wouldn’t lie flat! Setting your black flats on the floor to slip them on, you could hear Lance’s jaw drop to the floor.
“Stunning…” he beamed, looking at your figure up and down, “I never thought pink could look so good,”.
You chuckled shyly, your face blushing. “That’s very sweet of you,” you rasp, your voice suddenly gone.
“A-are you ready to go?” he asked, shaking his head to break the spell you had cast on him, “the reservations are in thirty minutes,”.
The dance hall was huge! Well, huge to you, someone who only attends noodle cafes and coffee shops across from Target. There were so many nicely dressed ladies there, it made you feel a bit uncomfortable. Thank God for the open bar.
Lance held you on his arm proudly as you both were lead by the waitress to your private booth close to the DJ. Could you consider someone who only played jazz and swing a DJ? WHat else would you call them? Are there different name for- STOP! You had to calm your mind down before you exhausted yourself.
“Get whatever you’d like,” Lance grinned, handing you a menu, “I recommend their lamb,”.
You nodded, taking a deep breath and skipping to the salad menu.
Lance gave you a look of both concern and playful judgement. “I know what you’re doing- don’t,” he said, turning the page over to their signature dishes page as well as a wine menu.
After a ordering and getting your food, you felt a lot more comfortable around each other, talking freely and laughing loudly. “Wanna dance before dessert?” Lance asked, gesturing to the dance floor as the Charleston started.
Your lips parted in an eager grin, nodded your head in agreement. You took his hand and leaped onto the dancefloor with him, already moving your feet and hips.
Lance was a surprisingly clumsy dancer. For someone who spent their entire childhood working on form and grace on a blue mat, eating, breathing, and sleeping gymnastics, his footwork was quite off. It was fucking adorable. Who knew you’d be the dancer out of the two of you?
Another thing, was that Lance never let go of you, he was always touching you. He was either holding your hand, or your waist, guiding your hips or your shoulders. He wasn’t handsy, he never pushed boundaries. But… it was almost… affectionate.
“Phew- I need a drink,” he huffed, guiding you to a chair on the open bar. “I’ll get us a couple sangrias, okay?” he grinned, squeezing your hand before going up the bartender.
“How much?” a strange man said to Lance, causing him to turn around from where he was waiting by the counter.
“Excuse me?” Lance hummed. He had never seen this dude before. HIghschool maybe? Nah, he was much older than Lance. This guy was at least forty-five.
“How much are you getting?” he asked, his botoxed-eye-candy mistress hanging off his arm like a cat on a leash.
“For… what?” he inquired, craning his neck.
“C’mon, there is no way a hot shot like you would get with a fat broad,” he gestured to you, sitting at the end of the bar, “how much did your friends offer to dare you to take her out? Fifty? Hundred bucks?”
Lance cringed at him. Disgusting. “I’m not getting paid… my friends don’t talk to me..” he hummed, still processing what he just said, “she’s my date! And for your information, douchbag, she’s a nice lady!”.
“Take it from me, boy, you could do better,” he hummed, nodding in a condescending manner, “you could get a model if you wanted,”.
Without thinking about Lance actions, he punched the man straight in the nose, anger bubbling up inside of his chest. “Don’t fucking call her that you overgrown dildo!” Lance shouted, throwing money at the bartender for everything, and storming up to you to leave.
“What’s going on? What happened?” you gasped, shocked at Lance’s seemingly sudden burst of anger.
“It doesn’t matter- let’s get out of here,”
Lance draped a blanket over your shoulders as you ate your cheetoes. “I’m sorry for what that dude said…” he sighed, bandaging his knuckles as he sat beside you, “I think you’re a beautiful lady,”.
You smiled shyly at him. “Thank you for defending me- though I wish you had dealt with it in a better way,” you sighed, cupping his cheek.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking…” he muttered, playing with the strings of his hoodie, “at least I’ll have a lot to talk about next time I see Dinah,”.
You chuckled. Even when you were upset with him (mildly), he was adorable. “You’re a mess, Lance Tucker…” you sighed, “what am I going to do with you?”.
“I wouldn’t mind a kiss…” he said nonchalantly, pursing his lips.
You playfully rolled your eyes, kissing kiss cheek softly.
He blushed hard, showing off his perfect smile. “Does this mean there will be a second date?”.
TAGLIST:
@buckyshattergirl @joannie95 @forever1313 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lookwhatyoumademequeue @nerdy-bookworm-1998
#lance tucker#lance tucker x reader#lance x reader#lance x plussize!reader#lance tucker x plussize!reader#the bronze#Sebastian Stan#triple f#fantastic-fantasy-fanfics
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Smile Like You Mean It (Chapter 10)
Name: Smile Like You Mean It
Fandom: Villainous/Villanos
AU: Smile!/Valiant
Beta Reader: @rachrar
Rating: E to Teen
Warnings: Brainwashing; Torture;
Summary: After Zug goes missing, White Hat and Lumencia try to find him. However, they end up in a strange dimension with darkness under its smiling surface.
Banner artwork edited from a piece I commisioned @theinsanefruitloop-chan to do
[First] [Previous] [Next]
“MOTHER FUCKER!”
Zug kicked a nearby garbage can. Yet again he had ended up in another dimension that wasn't his. At least this time he could instantly tell this wasn't his world. He checked his pocket sized dimensional transporter.
“Don’t go red... Don’t you fucking dare go red..”
The ‘Eldritch Juice’ bar turned to red.
Zug screamed in fury, nearly throwing the device- not for the first time. Instead he settled for kicking the garbage can again. Without the device he really was stuck- or at least at the mercy of whatever Hat was in this dimension. He sorta was already since he needed samples from an Eldritch in order to make the device work.
At least with the device he could leave as long as he had enough samples.
Zug huffed and sat down, slipping the device back into his pocket. He snaked his hand under his bag and rubbed his face. This meant another rigmarole of doing whatever this world’s Hat wanted. If he had to share another lab with another ‘ug’ scientist he was gonna scream. Or scream more.
That's when he felt someone grab him and pull him down. The smell hit him as he was slammed up against a sewer wall, the knife against his throat glinting in the sunlight before the manhole cover was pushed back into place.
“You... you you... oh....hoo ho.” The man with the knife spat. “I’m going to enjoy this, you bastard.”
“Do I fucking know you?” Zug asked, not the first time he had been held at knife point.
The military looking man scowled. “No, but you’re gonna suffer for what you’d done.. Doctor Smug.”
“Ah, see, I can’t help you with your revenge kick.” Zug said. “I’m not this ‘Doctor Smug’, cause I’m Dr Zug. And I’m not even from this dimension.”
Suddenly flashing a light at Zug’s eyes, the man growled and dropped him. “Shit...” He helped him up. “You’re not infected. Sorry man.”
“Infected?” Zug asked. He had learned very early on in his dimensional travels that he needed to get as much info as possible early on.
“Right, yeah, you don't know.” The man said. “This world is infected by a parasitic virus intent on turning every living thing into a happy zombie.”
Zug pulled a face of disgust strong enough to affect the surface of his bag. “Gross..” He rubbed his shoulder. “So like, you’re the resistance right?”
“Right. I’m Cooper.” He grunted. “I’ll take you to CL.”
“Codenames, how cute.” Zug mumbled, following him. The device just HAD to turn red in such a problematic universe.
Zug tried not to breathe in the air too much as he was led to a clearer area. The moment everyone saw him, they grabbed weapons and flashlights. His eyes were bombarded.
“Chill” Cooper said. “He’s not Smug.”
A woman walked over. “Yet another one from an alternative dimension?”
“Seems so Wellis.”
“Whoa- whoa-!” Zug said, shielding his eyes. “Another? Who’s been here before me?”
Wellis looked to Zug. “A woman at least.. She was captured.”
“What did this woman look like?” Zug said, his heart leaping into his throat. Had they gone looking for him?
“Hmm.. I didn’t catch her name but she had candy coloured hair..” Wellis said, trying to remember details.
“Did she have a hoodie with a horn?” Zug asked, stepping closer to this woman.
Wellis took a step back, hand on her knife in its harness. “Not when I saw her. She was wearing a yellow Smile hoodie when I met her.”
“Smile hoodie?” Zug asked, thinking it was an odd detail he should probably question.
“The ‘happy zombies’ are named Smile Citizens.” Cooper explained. “Organization running everything is called “The Ministry of Joy”, run by ‘The Minister’-”
“Which we suspect is just Smug.” Wellis added.
Zug scoffed. “Wow, this Smug bastard has been busy.”
“You have no idea.”
Everyone looked towards one of the tunnels. Out stepped a tall man in a trench coat. Judging by the way he held himself, this was ‘CL’. The man walked over to him and leaned down to look at Zug closer. “Yes... you might pull it off.”
“Whoa, I ain't pulling anything ‘off’,” Zug stepped back. “I gonna fucking ollie out of here the moment I can.”
“How will you do that?” CL asked him, eyeing him.
Zug crossed his arms. “Not telling you.”
CL stood straight. “I’m judging its the device in your pocket.” He said “And the reason your still here is you need something special to power it.” He turned his back to Zug. “You know... if even the smallest amount of the Smile Virus gets into your world or any other world it will quickly take over. It could be a single drop.”
“I’ll be careful.” Zug growled.
“Oh? But you already have some on you.” CL pointed to Zug’s shoe without even looking at him.
Zug lifted his foot, scowling. Where he had kicked the garbage can there was a small mark of black. He groaned. This was a nightmare.
“If you help us get rid of the virus you’ll be able to leave without any risks.” CL said. “We’ll even help you get the fuel. Deal?”
“Like I have a fucking choice..”
---
Smug had reached a new level of happy he didn’t even think was possible. As he walked into the kitchen to find his Smile Hat making breakfast he felt a sense of relaxation and familiarity wash over him.
It hadn’t taken Smug long to think of a new, better name for White Hat now he had been corrected. Not with a smile like that.
“Good Morning Smug!” Smile Hat said cheerfully. He placed the plate down for Smug. “I made you a special breakfast!”
It was eggs and bacon that had been put into the shape of a happy face. Smug smiled under his bag before thanking him and eating. He watched Smile Hat busy himself about the kitchen. Smile’s curly tendril hair was on full display. Smug had yet to find Smile’s hat.
Smile Hat placed food in front of L.O.L, Hysteria and Euphoria. “Remember, a balanced breakfast makes for a healthy day.”
The two girls began to eat. Hysteria had finally normalized with her correction and was nearly identical to Euphoria. They practically were twins. It was good because they kept each other busy.
“The Minister wants to see you today.” Smile Hat said out of nowhere, a single black tear rolling down his cheek from his black eye.
Smug reached over and wiped it away. “I promise I’ll be right over.”
The rest of the morning went by fairly quickly, but Smug could feel Minister’s emotions building. They all could. They were all connected.
So Smug found himself running up the last couple of steps to the platform that oversaw the coaster and the Minister. “Sir! I’m here!”
The Minister’s eyes- one yellow and one black- rolled up to see Smug. He then shifted up further in one swift movement, eye level with the tiny scientist. The coaster groaned and creaked with him- it was a part of him. It moved.
“Where is my portal?” He boomed, voice deep and loud.
“S-sir.. I ran the tests and the Smile Virus.. I-it removed his ability to travel dimensions too!”
A great rumbling could be heard in The Minister’s chest before he gave a loud roar of anger. When Yellow Hat had been infected his ability to travel through the void had been stripped away. It now seemed to be a side effect of the parasitic virus, almost like it was designed that way.
“THEN INVENT SOMETHING!”
Smug trembled a little, from both how loud he was but also the fear. “S-sir, even if I could we’d need some sort of f-fuel and that could only c-come from an Eldritch w-who isn't infected.” He stuttered. “A-and we can’t risk making a cure-”
The Minster leaned closer to the platform. “We might have to... we need to spread. We NEED to spread our happiness to everyone.”
“M-maybe we could just... s... stay...”
The narrowing of The Minister's eyes caused the scientist to bow his head. “F-forgive me sir. I will see if I can... can figure something out. If I can’t, then we can make a cure and use him.”
“Good.”
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