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#cross over fan fiction
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The Kind of Human Wreckage That You Love
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Summary: Frank got jumped by a couple of weirdos and as been acting strange ever since. Gerard and the rest of the guys try to take care of him, but to no avail. That is until they get a visit from Pete and Patrick.
Vamp!Frank
Word count:1500
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It all started when Frank got into a fight with some weird guys from across town. He was jumped by these dudes who thought they were from the 1920s or something. Since then he has been acting really weird. Sleeping all day, getting weird cravings, and overall looking really sickly and almost dead. Gerard, Mikey, and Ray were doing everything they could to help him, but Frank was refusing to see a doctor. They were at their wits end until Gerard was approached by Pete and Patrick.
“He isn’t sick, but there isn’t a cure.” Pete told Gerard.
“What are you talking about? Frank just has a really intense stomach flu or something, we have it under control.” Gerard said, defensive over his friend. 
“What stomach flu makes a man look dead? Makes him sleep all day and gives him uncontrollable urges at night? I can already tell you that about this time he has cold sweats, is shaking and vomiting up anything you're trying to give him.” Pete growls, ready to pounce on Gerard. 
Patrick put an arm in front of Pete, holding him back from Gerard before speaking. “We know what's wrong with him, but it’s not as simple as just treating it like a cold.” 
Just then Patrick gets a text on his phone. “Shit, there’s rumors of another swarm that’s been picking people off by Make-Out Point. We have to go re-group with the guys.” Patrick tell’s Pete, putting his phone back in his pocket and pulling out an old beaten up journal. “Here, you're going to need this. This will tell you everything you need to know to help out your friend and to protect yourselves.” 
Gerard takes the journal skeptically, but willing to try anything at this point. He flips the journal open, seeing pages upon pages of recipes, rituals, and other entries. Gerard looks up to question the two, but the strange duo is gone without a trace. 
Gerard takes the journal back to the rest of the guys, showing them the entries and telling them what Pete and Patrick had told him. 
“This thing says to mix holy water, garlic, and human blood and to give it to him, man. I don't know about this.” Ray says, flipping through the pages.
“I read one of them that said we have to have a weekly visit from a priest to come and bless him. Even has a number of a priest that quote ‘understands the situation’ end quote” Mikey says, mocking the entry that he was referring to.
Just then Frank stumbles into the room, covered in sweat and clutching his stomach. “Let's do it.” He says, nearly falling.
 Gerard bolts up, rushing to stabilize his friend and guide him to a chair. “No dude, this is just a bunch of psycho rambling. Whatever you have, we can fix it with some cold medicine and rest.” 
Frank growls, “We’ve been trying cold medicine for weeks now. I sleep all day, there isn’t any more rest I can be getting! ...I’ve been having nightmares when I sleep, they’re all the same. Flashes of me covered in blood, and you guys laying lifeless at my feet.” Frank’s expression softens, “I’m tired of this and I’m willing to try anything at this point.”
Gerard looks at Frank with a sorrowful expression. “Ok.”, he says.
“Wait, seriously? You’re going to go through with this crazy stuff?” Ray says, a little shocked at Gerard’s willingness to comply with the odd manual.
“We have to at least try. If it doesn’t work then we stop.” Gerard says, giving Ray a serious look. 
Ray sighs, “Fine, But i'm not going to be the one bleeding for this, ok?”
“I’ll do it.” Mikey says, everyone turning towards him. “I’ll supply the blood. Luckily it doesn’t seem like we’ll be needing that much.” Gerard gives his brother a thankful smile.
“Ok.” Gerard says, “Let's get to work then.”
With that Ray, Mikey, and Gerard get to work following the instructions in the journal. Gerard calls the number in the book and informs the priest of the situation, Mikey starts the concoction that they are to feed to Frank, and Ray starts collecting all the crucifixes he can find. By 11 PM the priest finishes blessing Frank and the other preparations have been finished. 
“Here, we go, Frank. Now this probably isn't going to be pleasant.” Gerard says, bring the cup to Frank's mouth, letting him sip the mixture. As soon as the liquid touches Frank's lips, he starts coughing violently. Gerard pulls the cup away and rubs Frank’s back, trying to sooth his friend. 
“I told you this was a bunch of horse shit!” Ray says, “This entire journal was just some weird, sick prank from those guys! Just some freaks that-” Ray stops at the sound of Frank chugging the liquid. The three turn back to Frank, who is now standing, the bottom of the cup in the air as he swiftly gulps down the mix. With a loud sigh, Frank finishes the ghastly drink, crushing the plastic up in his hand. 
The three men stare in disbelief. Frank, who was nearly a corpse mere seconds ago, is now standing strong before them, looking as youthful as ever. Frank uses his sleeve to wipe the residue from this mouth, leaving a bloody streak across his face. “That’s better.” He says, dropping the cup to the ground.
“You were saying?” Mikey says, turning back to Ray. 
The four men read through more of the journal, following all the instructions to a T. Preparing more mixtures and rituals to help keep Frank stable. They even found a number to a blood bank that had shady practices so that Mikey wouldn’t have to keep bleeding for the holy water mixture. The group stayed up until 5 in the morning making everything so Frank could be comfortable. About an hour before sunrise, they got a knock on the door.
Gerard answered the door, a wooden stake and crucifix ready. He slowly creaked the door open, revealing Pete and Patrick. The two immediately notice the items that Gerard is holding, Pete hissing at the sight of the crucifix. 
“So, you actually followed my instructions.” Patrick says, a slight smirk on his face. 
Gerard put away the crucifix. “So, you knew what was wrong with him because he’s also one of them.” He says, motioning towards Pete. “And you're trying to hunt all the other ones to reverse it all, right? That’s why you had all those instructions for weapons in there too.” 
“That’s right.” Pete says.
“So now what, you’re here to take out Frank too?” Gerard says, clutching the stake in his hand.
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Patrick says, raising his hands. “Your friend is safe. So long as you keep his urges under control, then we have no reason to come after him.” 
Gerard lowers his weapon, feeling a sense of relief. 
“But, we could really use you guys, if you're willing to help. We’re always looking for more people on our side. The more of us there are, the quicker we can go through the bad ones and get our friends back to normal.” Patrick says, hopeful.
Gerard thinks for a second. “I’m sorry, but we can’t. Frank never has been one to have very good control. If we go out and try to do what you guys do, I'm afraid that he’ll get carried away and cause more trouble than help.” He says, with an apologetic expression. 
“No worries, we understand.” Patrick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. “But if you ever change your mind, or if you just need some help, give me a call.” 
Gerard takes the paper and stuffs it in his pocket. Pete and Patrick turn away and begin to walk off, but before leaving, Patrick stops.
“Oh, and if you hear anything about any attacks or turf fights, don’t hesitate to call!” Patrick says, calling over his shoulder. With those final words Patrick begins walking off into the night. Pete lunges into the air and jumps rooftop to rooftop, disappearing just before the sun rises. 
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Bonus!:
~A couple weeks after Gerard’s last encounter with Pete and Patrick.~ 
“Any word from the hunters?” Mikey asks his brother. 
“Nothing. I’ve tried calling and texting, no answer.” Gerard says. There has been a spike in activity around their side of town, more and more lurkers at night, making it hard to get supplies for Frank.
The four men jump as there is a knock at the door. The group ready themselves with weapons, crucifixes, and holy water as Gerard opens the door. Standing before them are the hunters, only this time they’ve changed, moonlight reflecting off their fangs. 
“We’ve hit a bit of a snag in the extermination process.” Patrick says, his own pair of fangs hanging in his mouth.
“Let’s get training then.” Gerard says, allowing the group to enter their dwelling.
18 notes · View notes
chickensarentcheap · 8 months
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Lost and Found- Chapter Twenty
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Fandom: Extraction
Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)
Warnings: some profanity.
*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions
Tagging: @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @theesirenteller @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @thebejeweledwatercat @kmc1989 @karimac @themaradwrites @alisbackalleybbq
Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/127894162
My tag list is open!! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)
Chapter Summary: Tyler Rake, John Wick, and Alcott walk into a bar...
*****
They make quite the threesome in The Continental lounge. Wick with his American drawl, infamous slicked-back hair, and all-black attire, Alcott with his crisp English accent, neatly tailored pants, and cashmere sweater, and Tyler in his ‘casual best’. A simple black Henley shirt and well-worn and faded, olive green cargo pants he’s had for years; tattered around the cuffs and sporting holes in the side pockets.
Three entirely different yet somehow similar men; a combination of unique backgrounds yet familiar circumstances. Their lives filled with loss and heartbreak, and their hands drenched in the blood of many.
And their bank accounts much fuller because of it.
“Now explain this to me again,” Alcott implores from his middle seat at the bar, nursing the remains of his drink. “Like I’m a three-year-old. Because the information is just not getting through. You’re not telling her WHY?”
Sighing, Tyler takes a sip of water. “It’s not that we’re NEVER going to tell her. It’s just that we’re waiting.”
“Waiting for what? Hell to freeze over? Pigs to fly? Just what are you waiting for?”
“For the right time.”
“And just what constitutes the ‘right time’? The child’s existed for nearly five years. She’s been asking about her father for almost a full two of those. If you ask me, there’s no time like the present. She already admitted to loving you. What more do you need?”
“It doesn’t matter if she already loves me or not. Esme and I agreed; that we'd hold off on saying anything.”
“But why? If the little one is already this attached to you and you…by my brief albeit brilliant observation… are already attached to her…”
“She’s been through enough. I mean, it’s been a hell of a four days for US and we’re grown-ass adults. She’s not even five. A baby still.”
“Baby or not, she’s resilient as hell and stronger than either of you are giving her credit for. You don’t think it would be a welcome surprise? In the midst of all the bullshit? Don’t you think it wouldn’t give her something to smile about? To learn you’re her dad?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“It matters a hell of a lot. It’s your damn swimmers that helped make the child. You’ve got more of a say in this than you realize. Don’t be a pussy, Rake. I know you love the woman, but stand up for yourself. Tell her to shit or get off the pot.”
Smirking, Tyler sips at his water. “You saying something bad about Esme? Of all people?
“I’m not saying anything bad about her. I’m simply saying she’s being foolish. That this is all just a bunch of horseshit. There’s no reason to keep it from her. It’s not like it’s horrible news. For either of you.”
“You gonna say all that to Esme’s face? Tell her she’s making a mistake? Being foolish?”
“No. And you’re not going to tell her I said it, either. I’d prefer to keep my balls exactly where they are, thank you very much. And you…” He nudges Wick with his elbow. “...does any of this make sense to you?”
In response, Wick bobs his head from side to side, then shrugs his shoulders.
“What the hell is that…” Alcott mimics the gesture. “... supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t have a horse in this race. I’m just here to listen. To support. Not throw my two cents in.”
“How very diplomatic of you. I hope you’re not going to be like this when we get out onto the street. All passive and shit. I can barely carry my own weight most days, I don’t need to be carrying yours as well.”
“Job me and ‘real life me’ are two totally different people.”
“You must have an opinion. One way or another. Does it make sense to you, or is it just the stupidest damn thing you’ve ever heard of?”
“My opinion means nothing. I’m not taking sides in this. I’m not a father. I don’t have kids.”
“What does that matter?”
“It matters a lot. It means I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling other people what to do with their children.”
“I don’t have any either…”
“That you know of,” Tyler mutters.
“...but I know when something is purely idiotic. And this is about as idiotic as it gets. Tell us. Come on. How do you feel about all this? What do you THINK about it?”
“I think…” Wick downs his bourbon and then waves the empty glass at the bartender. “...I need another drink.”
“You alright, mate? Do you need to talk about it? Whatever you’ve got going on? ‘Cause there’s a couch over there…” Alcott nods in the direction of the lounge. “...and you can lie on it and I’ll sit next to you and you can talk to me like I’m a therapist. Gonna cost you, though. One sixty-five an hour.”
“And would that be in US dollars or pounds?”
Sighing in exasperation, Alcott turns back to Tyler. “You realize this is a stupid idea, yeah? Keeping it from her? That little girl is smarter than any of you are giving her credit for. And she’s been wanting a dad in her life since she’s practically been old enough to talk. I know you think you’re protecting her, but…”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Protect her. She’s been through enough. More than any kid should have to go through. So we’re just giving her a little bit of a break and…”
“Hearing that you’re her father IS the break. That bit of good news in the midst of all the bullshit. Don’t you think it’ll lift her spirits? Especially after what happened this morning? That incident scared her to bits; she needs some kind of assurance that her entire world isn’t going straight to hell. That she’s safe and secure and no one else is going to hurt her.”
“And I can give her all of that. I can keep her safe. I can stop anyone from getting to her. She doesn’t need to know I’m her dad for all of that to happen.”
Wick speaks up. “If I may be so bold…”
“Oh, now you have something to say,” Alcott chides. “After you get a fourth one into ya. Need the booze to loosen your lips and tongue, do you mate?”
Tyler nods, signifying for him to go ahead.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say anything because I’m trying not to put myself right in the middle of your personal life. But…”
Tyler scowls. “Mate, you’ve been in it for years. Since you kept Esme’s whereabouts a secret. And then didn’t bother telling me about my kid. You have been knee-deep in my personal life for a while.”
“I did what was asked of me,” Wick defends himself. “Esme’s my friend. She needed my help. I gave it to her. And I wasn’t going to betray her confidence. For anyone. And I’m sorry; if that puts me on your shit list permanently. But I did what I had to do.”
“It wasn’t up to any of us to tell you where she was or that you had a kid,” Alcott adds. “None of that was ours to tell. She asked for our help, we gave it. It wasn’t anything personal against you. Although I still think she could have done a hell of a lot better than a two brain cell having, knuckle-dragging, nappy-headed bastard from Queensland.”
“I think it would do Millie a world of good to hear that you’re her dad,” Wick continues. “She needs something to hold onto, some kind of bright spot in all of this. She’s a little kid, and little kids need to know that everything is going to be okay. Hell, even us adults need to know that from time to time. She’s been asking about her dad for a while; who he is, where he is, why hasn’t she met him? And she doesn’t just get on her mom about it. She’s asked me. More than once.”
“She’s asked me several times,” Alcott admits. “She even once asked if I was her dad. I said to look at me and look at herself in the mirror. That alone should tell her I’m not the one that put the bun in her mother’s oven.”
“I just think that this is something that could undo some of the damage done this morning,” Wick says. “We all see how much she adores you. And vice versa. If she’s already head over heels and doesn’t know, imagine how she’ll be when she finds out. And I just can’t help but believe it’s better if you do it sooner than later.”
“Listen to him,” Alcott addresses Tyler. “That’s a man that knows what he’s talking about.”
“Ten minutes ago, you were worried he was going to get you killed out on the street. Now you’re kissing his ass?”
“We’re on the same page. Both of us feel it’s best for Millie if…”
“What do you either of you know what’s best for Millie? For MY daughter? She doesn’t belong to either of you.”
“Maybe not, but we’ve known her longer,” Alcott points out. “As much as I’m sure that hurts to hear.”
“Not my most favourite thing to think about, no.”
“The truth is, we’ve been in her life from the start,” Wick says. “When she was still inside her mother’s belly. Both of us have changed her diapers, fed her bottles, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in…”
“She’s puked on me more times than I care to remember,” Alcott adds. “And believe me, her mother will eventually get my cleaning bill.”
“Why would you think I want to hear this? You’re not making things any better, mate. I’m already pissed off enough. Bringing things like THAT up? Are you trying to get her ass handed to you or…”
“No one is trying to rub salt in the wound,” Alcott assures him. “But the fact of the matter is that we do know Millie better than you do. For now, anyway. I mean, I let her call me Uncle Duey, for fuck sake.”
Wick swigs his bourbon. “I’m Uncle John-John. Killer by night, Uncle John-John by day. My, how the mighty have fallen.”
“She’s a damn good kid,” Alcott continues. “Her mother has done an amazing job with her. And you should consider yourself lucky; you didn’t manage to knock up someone who would have gotten rid of your spawn the second they found out about it. This isn’t exactly the life we strive to bring kids into, is it? Give them dads who kill people for money?”
Tyler frowns; brow furrowed as he drums his fingertips against his glass. “That’s not all we do.”
“Aww mate…” Alcott chuckles and slaps a hand down onto his shoulder. “...don’t sugar coat it. Don’t romanticize it. That’s EXACTLY what we do. And one day, that little girl is going to grow up and she’s going to find out what her daddy really does for a living and…”
“What I DID for a living,” Tyler corrects him. “Past tense. By the time she’s old enough to understand it, I’ll have been out of the game for a few years.”
Alcott waves down the bartender. “The fact of the matter is that she WILL find out. Right now, you’re just the cool friend of her mother’s who can kick ass and take names. That’s how she sees it; you’re big and you’re strong and you’re here to keep her safe from the bad guys. But once she’s older…”
“I just think it’s better if she knows about you being about her dad before THAT happens,” Wick pipes up. “That’s my opinion. Take it with a grain of salt. But…”
“You must want her to know,” Alcott says. “That you’re her father. How could you NOT want her to know?”
“Of course I want her to know. You think I like this fucking game we’re playing with her? You think it doesn’t burn my ass every time she calls me by my first name? Or ‘this is my mum’s boyfriend. Do you really think it doesn’t bother me?”
“I think you’ve got a lot of anger stored up,” Wick says. “And I think the more you lie to Millie, the worse that anger is going to get and then you’re going to snap one day and say some shit you’ll regret. And then both her and her mother will be out of there.”
Grinning, Alcott nudges Wick with his elbow. “Now who’s the therapist?”
“I have my moments.”
Alcott addresses Tyler once more. “Isn’t five years enough? Wasn’t that enough time apart? Do you really want to let this shit fester and a year or two down the road, let it completely ruin things? For good?”
“That’s the last thing I want.”
“If Millie is anything like her mother…” The Brit tosses a wad of cash down on the bar when one of the tenders sets down a tray of shots. “...which we already know she is, she is going to be the type to hold one hell of a grudge when she’s older. So you can imagine what that’ll be like? If you keep up this bullshit? The more time that drags on, the more she’s going to resent both of you for not telling her the truth sooner. And the next thing you know, you gotta teenager who can’t stand being in the same room as you and would sooner spit in your face than look at you.”
Wick side-eyes him, then helps himself to a shot. “Are you SURE you don’t have kids?
“I don’t have kids. But I do have brothers and sisters. And I know how lies…even told with the best of intentions…can tear a family apart. Why would he want that to happen when he just got his family together?”
“HE is sitting right beside you,” Tyler reminds him. “HE can hear you.”
“Mate, in the long run, it’s your life. And from what I understand, that life has been quite shit the past few years. Now, you’ve managed to get her back; the woman that you love more than anything in this world. The person you’d gladly give up your own life for. Do you really want to hold onto this shit you’ve got bottled up and risk losing her? AGAIN?”
“It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the reason Esme left.”
“You were and you weren’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all know that. But she did leave BECAUSE of you. To protect you. And I’m not going to judge that decision and we’re not going to debate whether she was right or wrong. And I’m certainly not going to pretend I understand anything about the situation she was put in…”
“But…”
“Enough lies have been told. Enough secrets have been kept. I think it’s high time that all of that shit stops. For you, for her, for Millie. For all of you as a family. You’re that little girl’s father. Whether you’re ready to be it or not.”
“I was ready to be ‘it’ the second I saw her and knew she was mine.”
“Then do your first good thing as a dad, and don’t lie to her. No more than you already have. She’s smart and she’s resilient and doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not yet. But the older she gets…”
“What we’re trying to say is that you’re going to just fuck things up more,” Wick says. “Or at least that’s what I’M trying to say. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about half the time.”
“I was ready to tell Millie the first day. That I was her dad. But it’s not my decision to make. It’s not…”
“Not alone, it isn’t,” Alcott downs his shot and the winces at the immediate burn. “But it’s half yours. Now I know it’s been a while since I’ve indulged in any extracurricular activities of the sort, but I’m pretty sure it takes two people to make a baby. Unless times and technology have changed since the last time I…”
Wick frowns. “Jesus, how long has it been?”
“Way too long, mate. Way too damn long.”
“But aren’t you…you know…with his ex-wife?”
“On and off. And without giving too much away and completely disrespecting her, I’m sure the big-headed, big-eared Australian and I can agree on the fact that she isn’t the most…what’s the word… affectionate…of people.”
“It’s like fucking a couch,” Tyler grumbles as he slides off his bar stool, then pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Three or four times every six months.”
Alcott smirks. “Now THAT’S not nice. It’s true, but it’s NOT nice. At all.”
Wick nods in the Australian’s direction. “Where are you going?”
Tyler tosses a handful of bills down onto the top of the bar. “I’m not going to name names, but unlike certain individuals, I have a woman to get back to.”
“That’s right,” Alcott scoffs. “Just rub it in, you prick.”
“I’ll be rubbing it in while you’re rubbing it out.”
“You know, it’s moments like these where I don’t like you very much. Are you the one still holding a grudge? Because I drank all your milk?”
“You’re just damn lucky I hit that coffee cup. ‘Cause the meds had me pretty shaky that day. Be glad you still have your hand. Is that your favourite one? The one gets the most use?”
“I really do hate you sometimes, you know that, yeah?”
“You’d miss me, though. If I wasn’t around anymore.”
“In your wildest and wettest.”
“Last thing I want to do is sit around here, watching you two get shit-faced. Not when I’ve got a warm body waiting for me.”
“I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re certainly not the best catch on the planet. Not even close to it. She can definitely do better.”
“It’s okay to be jealous, mate.” He clamps both hands down on Alcott’s shoulders.. “ Especially when you’re not even on her short OR long list.”
“Now that’s just rude. Those are just fighting words. Give her a kiss, would ya? From both of us.”
“Don’t bring me into this,” Wick grumbles. “I prefer all my limbs attached to my body.”
“Get your beauty sleep, Australian,” Alcott calls to him as he heads through the room. “Good knows you need about ten years of it to look good even in your mother’s eyes.”
Tyler smirks. “That’s okay. Your mother thinks I’m perfect just the way I am.”
“You fucking asshole. You regular fucking muppet. I oughta come over there and rearrange your ugly face.”
Chuckling, Tyler steps out of the bar. “I’d like to see you try.”
******
He’s rougher than he needs to be. Using his considerable size and strength difference to punish her; able to convincingly hide the hurt, anger and bitterness under layers of voracious want and need. And she willingly takes everything he dishes out; her body eagerly responding to the tight grip around her throat, the yanking of her hair, and the brutally hard thrusts that have her crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
It had always been her favourite; that tiny body able to withstand enormous amounts of torment in the name of sexual gratification. Something he’d both discovered and marvelled at five years ago; amazed at not only the things she allowed him to do but so openly -and boldly- requested of him. And it remains all this time later, despite their absence from each other’s lives; the awe and the adoration and that powerful, all-consuming mixture of lust and love that nothing -or no one- else could ever come close to measuring up to.
The self-loathing makes a quick appearance; feeling the utmost disgust in himself as he lays in bed beside her. Listening to her soft rhythmic breathing as she sleeps soundly; her back presented to him, yet her head resting in the crook of his elbow, those long, dark tresses fanned out across his arm and the sheets below. He hates himself; for both manhandling her and continuing to harbour such resentment. And while it will be ever strong enough to undo the love and the adoration and pure, unadulterated worship that he’s carried for years, it is enough to slightly tarnish them. To make him feel sick to his stomach and despise himself for ever thinking such negative and hateful ways towards her.
Sighing heavily, he drapes a forearm across his brow and takes in slow, deep breaths; a somewhat successful attempt to chase away the ugliness that festers inside his brain. His own body bearing the effects of just how rough and unhinged things had been between them just two short hours before; deep and painful fingernail trails that crisscross his back and his ribs, bite marks that decorate his collarbone, shoulders, and even the inside of his thighs, a tingling scalp where having his hair twisted and yanked. Incredibly enjoyable at the time; her enthusiasm and her ability to ‘dish it out’ encouraging his intensity even more. But now he feels like shit; the conversations in the bar replaying in his head and his anger -towards both her and the situation that had seen her make the decisions she had- simmering just below the surface.
He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her stir; the slight shifting of the mattress under her tiny body, the absence of the weight of her head upon his arm as she changes positions. Rolling over under her side and sliding closer to him; a hand coming to rest on his stomach as she nuzzles his ear with the tip of her before pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.
“Why are you awake?”
He lays a palm on the back of her head; fingertips pushing through her hair to lightly and affectionately knead at her scalp. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“I had the weirdest yet mostly satisfying dream. About taking you and Millie to Colorado to meet the fam. My mom picked us up at the airport, called you Crocodile Dundee and insulted your haircut.”
“That’s oddly specific. What happened next?”
“You gave her very detailed instructions on how to fuck off and stay fucked off. I didn’t get right to the end, but I like to think you wrapped things up by slapping the shit out of her.”
“I don’t hit women.”
“Never? Ever? You’ve never hit a woman?”
“What kind of asshole do you think I am?”
“I don’t mean in your personal life. I know you’re not the type. I mean on the job. You’ve never had to resort to it?”
“Just once.”
“Was she a mark or…?”
“Another merc. Working FOR the mark. We got into it. Blood was shed. Only one of us walked away.”
“Well, I obviously don’t need to ask WHO.”
“Yaz got his ass handed to him by one. In Vienna. She absolutely wrecked him. And he’s tough; for such a small guy. But believe me; he couldn’t walk or piss right for a month afterwards.”
“You like to keep up with your friends’ urinating habits, do you?”
“Anyone ever tell you? That you’re a smart ass?”
“You used to tell me ALL the time. Makes me happy to hear it again; means we're getting back to the basics. The good ol’ days. And as for your future monster in law…”
He arches a brow.
“You wouldn’t even backhand her in dreamland? The Wicked Witch of the Midwest? The one who said you kidnapped her only girl and…I quote…’kept her captive in your den of blood and danger and kinky sex’?”
“I mean, she WAS right. About the sex thing.”
“She also called you Ty.”
“Now THAT’S a fighting word. Because of that? I suppose I could make an exception. Knock her out.”
“And here I was, thinking the selling point would be the decades spent making my life a living hell. I thought for sure you’d want to defend my honour. Seriously though…” She lightly runs her fingernails across his stomach. “....why ARE you awake?”
“It’s two thirty in the morning. Why are YOU so chatty?”
“It’s a gift. Answer my question.”
“I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Even back in Dhaka. And especially when we were living together. Come to think of it, I’m starting to see a pattern. The one thing all these places have in common.”
“Maybe it’s better you don’t sleep. Because I might kill you. Smother you with your pillow.”
Chuckling, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her tightly into his side. Lips meeting her brow before resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
“When it comes to the job?”
“Are we even calling it that anymore?”
“I mean, you WERE hired. You did show up. And you ARE doing what I employed you for.”
“But? I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”
“Well, there’s nothing really ‘normal’ about it. And Millie and I are definitely not ‘normal’ customers.”
“Everything about this is as far from normal as you can get. It’s personal. Way too close to home. I’m never THIS attached to who I’m looking out for.”
“You looked out for Mia’s sister and her kids. That’s pretty personal.”
“She was my ex-sister-in-law. And it was a job out of pure fucking guilt. Because I felt I owed it to Mia. After everything I had done to hurt her, I figured it was the least I could do.”
“What if you’d died doing it? Was giving up your life the ‘least’ of it, or…”
“At that time? Without you around? I didn’t give a fuck if I was alive or dead. So it wouldn’t have mattered much.”
“It would have mattered to me; if Nik or Yaz or even Alcott got a hold of me and said something happened to you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. The fact that I never got to say I was sorry or tell you that I still loved you or to bring Millie to you. So for what it’s worth, I’m glad that never happened. Because I may not have been in the picture, but I would have missed you for the rest of my life.”
Emotion chokes at him, and he places a hand on her hip and gives a tight, affectionate squeeze.
“I was going to come and see you. In Austria. At the prison.”
“Alcott told you I was there?”
Esme nods.
“Why didn’t you show up?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I guess I was scared. About how you’d react. It had been almost three years since I’d just disappeared. And you would have had every right to be pissed off enough to have me thrown out of there.”
“I was never THAT pissed off.”
“I also didn’t want it to happen there; the first time we saw each other again. Not exactly the ideal place for a reunion. I don’t think you would have wanted to find out about Millie while you were locked up. Me showing up would have been enough of a shock, never mind THAT.”
“It would have been a hell of a surprise. But I wouldn’t have been pissed off. I would have been relieved more than anything; to see that you were okay and to know that you even gave a shit what was going on with me.”
“I never stopped ‘giving a shit’ about you, Tyler. I worried about you all the time; practically every second of every day. But had I shown up there…”
“You could have been convinced to be a repeat visitor. I could have talked my way into conjugal visits.”
“I probably would have gone along with it. I bet you looked hot in that orange jumpsuit.”
“There is something seriously wrong with you.”
He remains quiet for several minutes, knuckles repeatedly grazing up and down and her spine, her nose pressed against the side of his neck.
“I wrote to you,” she confesses. “Every week for about a year.”
He frowns. “I never got anything.”
“I never sent any of the letters. I just sat down and poured my heart out and then got cold feet about mailing them. So I just put them in a box and tucked them away. They’re actually still in the back of my closet.”
“You kept them all this time?”
“Everything I wish I’d said and everything I should have done differently is in those letters. Even every apology I wish I’d made. There was always unfinished business. An open chapter. And if I got rid of the letters, it meant I was also getting rid of you. And I know I left, and it seemed like I didn’t want you anymore, but I wasn’t ready for it…for US…to be done. I don’t think I ever would have been.”
“Come here,” he beckons and wraps her in both of his arms; enjoying the scent that clings to skin and hair and the warmth that radiates from her naked body.
God, he’d missed it. He’d missed HER. The touch of her hands and the taste of her kiss. The sound of her voice and her laugh. And that smile that’s reserved solely for him; curving her lips and further softening her features and causing her eyes to sparkle and dance. And for several minutes, they lay in silence; the tension and the sadness eased by the familiar weight of her head upon his chest as a large, callused palm continuously strokes her hair.
“Maybe one day you’ll let me read them. You might have chickened out sending them when you wrote them, but…”
“Whenever you’re ready to see them, they’ll be there. And I think it might be good for both of us; if you look at them. Kinda like shutting the door on that part of our lives. Permanently.”
“I don’t think I’m ready right now. I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”
“Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. There’s no rush. I know there’s a lot going on right now; I’ve dumped enough on you in the past four days to last a lifetime. And I never intended to. I never…”
“You haven’t ‘dumped’ anything on me. Using that word makes it something there’s been nothing good. And believe me, Millie is worth more than any of the bad shit. I’d take a bullet to the neck a thousand times over if it meant she’d exist.”
“I just wish things had been different. When it comes to how I handled things. I had the best of intentions. I REALLY did. I panicked; I knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against The High Table, and I had to protect you. If anything had happened to you…”
“I can wrap my head around THAT. What I can’t get past is afterwards. When things went back to normal and they weren’t a threat anymore. That’s what I’m having a hard time getting past.”
“I already explained. I already…”
“I don’t want to be angry.”
“At me?”
He nods.
“You have every right to be, Tyler. I did a horrible thing to you. More than one, actually. And I can justify leaving; I feel I did the right thing when it came to protecting you. But staying under the radar for years and not telling you about Millie…”
“It’s the entire situation I want to be angry at. That I NEED to be angry at. If The High Table never showed up, everything else wouldn’t have happened. You didn’t know they were going to come for you. You thought you were in the free and clear and done with them. And when they came looking for you, you weren’t given much of a choice. It’s them I should be pissed with. Not you.”
“But…”
Firmly gripping the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her temple and then begins to uncoil her from his embrace; hating the absence of contact when he sits up against and leans against the headboard. One leg bent at the knee, he sighs heavily and rakes a hand through his hair and then runs both palms over his weary face.
“Do you think we can actually TALK about this? Without hurting feelings?”
Gathering the quilt around her naked body, Esme sits up as well. “I think feelings are already hurt, don’t you?”
“Without hurting them even more, then? Because I don’t want to fight, Esme. That’s the last thing I want. There’s enough bullshit going on without adding that to the list.”
“I don’t want that either. And I don’t want to fight about this, especially. But if talking is what you want to do…”
“Like rational, reasonable adults.”
She nods in agreement.
“First thing’s first. I need to ask you something. And you gotta promise me it won’t piss you off.”
“How bad is what you’re going to ask that you need a promise like that?”
“It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…I don’t know…you might think I’m stupid for even thinking about it, let alone asking.”
“And you accuse me of being that one that talks in riddles? What…?”
“Did you and Alcott have something going?”
She can’t help but laugh. “What?”
“Did you ever have anything going with him? Relationship wise?”
“No. No. Omg, no. Never.”
“I mean, a relationship of ANY kind. Maybe you never boyfriend and girlfriend thing, but…”
“There’s no ‘but’. There has NEVER been anything between us other than friendship.”
“Did he ever want there to be?”
“Not that he’s ever told me. Or acted on. Colleagues and buddies, that’s it.”
“What about you? Anything YOU wanted? Or acted on? Or…”
“Tyler, men and women ARE capable of being just friends.”
“You and I weren’t.”
“You and I are in an entirely different league. We always have been. From pretty much the second we met. You never denied it; feeling ‘something’ right away.”
“Lust. It’s called lust. You know how there’s ‘love at first sight’? Well, that was lust at first sight.”
“Yeah, there was a lot of lust. But it was more than that and you know it.”
“Did you feel anything like that for him or…?”
“I have never felt anything for Russell. Other than platonic love. And maybe wanting to smack the shit out of him from time to time.”
Tyler smirks. “Russell. That’s kinda personal, don’t you think?”
“It’s his first name. What else am I supposed to call him?”
“Everyone calls him Alcott. EVERYONE.”
“Probably because they don’t know his actual name IS Russell. I like to call people by their first names. Especially my friends. You’ve always been a little uptight about these kinds of things; you’ve always hated the idea of anyone else being in my life. You don’t even like the fact I was married before we met.”
“What I hate is WHO you were married to. And the shit he did. That’s what I hate.”
“Admit it, you can’t handle the thought of me with anyone else. I bet you stressed about it constantly during the last five years.”
“No.”
She stares at him pointedly.
“Sometimes.”
“I have a history. I have exes. So do you. You were married before me. You don’t see me obsessing over it. I mean, I don’t particularly like the idea of hearing about your slutty bachelor days, but I realize back then you had commitment issues. You’re a red-blooded male with needs and…”
“And you’re a red-blooded female. With needs.”
“Needs I was more than happy to tend to on my own. You’re the type that prefers having a participant with those things. Me…”
“I am more than capable of handling things on my own. Figuratively AND literally…”
“...I don’t need sex. I have gone YEARS without it. I’m capable of surviving without it.”
“That makes me feel great. Thanks for that.”
“If it’s already not glaringly obvious, I enjoy sex with you. I love having it with you. I could have sex with you all day, every day. For the rest of my life. But the fact is, I never gave a shit about it until YOU. It wasn’t a necessity. I’d never been with someone who could get the job done, know what I mean? I always relied on myself for getting there.”
“You have dated some real fucking winners, haven’t you.”
“I may not need sex, but I WANT sex. And I want it with you. Only you. No one else. And seeing as we haven’t seen each other in five years…”
“What about Alessio? You slept with him. You were going to marry the guy.”
“This isn’t about Alessio. Who was a job.”
“I’ve never had a job that required me to fuck someone.”
“I was his fiancee. I was playing a part. If I didn’t do THAT? He would have known something was up. And maybe it was drastic; going to those extremes. But I did. I allowed myself to feel beautiful. And wanted.”
“I wanted you.”
“And I fucked that up. I know that. But other than him? And this playing pretend? There’s never been anyone else. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone but you. And I tried. Not the sex thing, but the dating and the relationship stuff. I met people. Men, women. I went out a few times. And you know what? Every time they tried to take things further? All I did was compare them to you.”
Tyler blinks at her honesty.
“I have never wanted anyone else. I’m not afraid to admit that. And there’s never been a damn thing between Russell and I. He kept me updated on things you were doing; he contacted me about Georgia and Mia and her sister and all of that. And told me about you going to prison. Other than Millie, he was the strongest connection I had to you.”
“And Nik. And Yaz. All these people that knew you were okay.”
“All people I swore to secrecy and hated every second of it. They didn’t want to lie to you. I especially didn’t want to. And I don’t get your hang-up with Russell and me. You don’t ever question my friendship with Yaz.”
“That’s because he’s Yaz. He may have a huge hard-on for you…”
“He has a hard-on for me? What? He told you that?”
“...but I know you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Not like that. I know you see him like a little brother. But Alcott..”
“It’s because Alcott’s like you, right? He reminds you of yourself. And because I lusted you immediately and fell in love with you so quickly, it must mean it happened with him too.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know why it bothers me. How close the two of you are.”
“All I can do is tell you the truth. And reassure you. As many times as you need it. There has never been anything between us. On either of our parts. Nothing has even come remotely close to crossing a line. I know I hurt you and I betrayed you and you don’t exactly trust me right now…”
“I trust you. With my life. With my daughter’s life.” ‘ “...but I wouldn’t lie about this. I don’t see him in that way. I don’t see anyone in that way. It’s just you, Tyler. That I’ve wanted. It’s always been you. It will always be ONLY you.”
“You’d tell me, yeah? If there’d been anyone else? During the last five years? OTHER than that dick head, Alessio.”
“You were honest with me; about sowing your wild oats all over Australia and many parts of Europe. Why would I not tell you the truth? There hasn’t been anyone else. And there especially hasn’t been anything with Alcott. And there never will be.”
He nods slowly as he considers her words.
“On a side note, he’s banging your ex-wife, you know.”
“I don’t care what he’s doing to my ex. She’s my ex for a reason. She stopped being any of my concern a long time ago.”
“You were concerned enough to help her. To take the job. Put your life on the line to get her sister and her kids the hell out of Georgia.”
“It was a job. I was being paid.”
“Maybe. But there’s a history there. You were married to the woman. You had a child with her. I know the kind of guilt and regret you carry around. You can’t tell me those didn’t play a part.”
“How did we go from talking about us to talking about her? How…?”
“You want to talk. So let’s talk. Let’s get it all out there. Say the things we need to say. You’re not the only one who’s been holding onto some shit.”
“And now who’s worried about someone else’s history?”
“I don’t care about your history. I care about YOU. And when I heard about that job…”
“You left. I wasn’t the one who took off. You were. So I stopped being of any concern to you. Second you walk out that door…”
“No. It never stopped. I never stopped worrying about you. I didn’t leave because of something you did. Or didn’t do. I never took off because I didn’t love you. I took off because I did.”
“You know how you always say ‘opposites attract’? When it comes to us? Maybe most of the time, that’s true. But it’s not with this. You left, Esme. You left ME. Just like I left my boy. So we have THAT in common, don’t we.”
“I never blamed you for leaving your son. I said it was a stupid thing to do. I still think it was. But I also told you I understood why you did it. I sympathized with you. I still do. It was a horrible, horrible thing to go through; seeing your child sick and wasting away. And you’d never been taught coping skills and you had all that toxic masculinity and you…”
“Why did you leave?”
“I told you. I left to protect you”
“We could have found a way. To fight back. So tell me, why didn’t you stay?”
“I was scared and I was worried and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I…”
“Esme…” His voice becomes more forceful. Demanding. “Why didn’t you stay?”
“Because I fucked up. Because I brought them to you. And I didn’t know what else to do. So I left. Because I didn’t know how to fix it.”
Silence descends on the room. An eerily still quiet that remains until she sniffles loudly; wiping at errant tears with the back of her hand.
“I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fucking fix it”
“Why do you think I left my boy?”
“It’s not the same thing. It’s not…”
“It is. It IS the same thing. We left for the same reasons. And what happened because of it? We took off. And we hurt the only person that ever really gave a fuck about us.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to get away from them. I didn’t want them coming back. Not when you were there. I didn’t want them hurting you. Or worse.”
“We would have had time. To get the fuck out of there. We could have found a place to hide out. We could have flown under the radar and let Nik and John and even Alcott deal with The High Table. You didn’t have to leave.”
“I didn’t think of that. I was scared. You were still healing from Dhaka. And even if you’d been a hundred percent, you’re not invincible. You wouldn’t have beaten them, Tyler. Not on your own. Not even with a small army. They would have found us. No matter where we were hiding.”
“Don’t underestimate Nik. She would have put us far underground. No one would have been able to track us.”
“I didn��t even consider it. It didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Like you said; you were scared and you were worried. Kinda hard to think right under those circumstances. But Nik? She has no excuse for not coming up with a solution like that.”
“I’m sorry, Tyler. That I didn’t think of those. That I didn’t stay. I wanted to. I wanted to be with you. I never wanted to leave.”
Reaching out, calloused fingertips push strands of hair off her forehead and tuck others behind her ears. “I know you didn’t.”
“We both fucked up. In the past. Only my fuck up lasted five years. And I not only hurt you, but I hurt Millie, too.”
“You didn’t hurt her. Not in the slightest.”
“I kept her away from her dad. For selfish fucking reasons. All because I was worried about rejection. Because I was scared you’d turn me away. That you’d turn US away.”
“I wouldn’t have. I’ve spent the last five years wondering where you were. HOW you were. Wanting you.”
“I’m a horrible person.”
“No. You’re not. You’re a good person who made a bad decision.”
“I remember saying those exact words to you. In Dhaka.”
“And you didn’t hurt Millie. Look how amazing she is. She’s healthy and happy and she’s so fucking smart, Me. And she’s beautiful and she’s perfect and she’s everything that’s great inside both of us all into one. You didn’t hurt her. And you definitely didn’t fail her. You’ve done an awesome job with her. And I’m lucky. Of all the people that are the mother to my kid, it’s you. Because a lot of other women never would have gone through with having her.”
“There was no way I was giving her up. Not while I was pregnant and definitely not after. And I needed to hear that from you. That I haven’t fucked her up. That I’ve done good with her. And BY her.”
“You’ve done more than good, believe me.”
“I am so sorry. That I screwed up so badly. That I left instead of trying to fix things. I really did do it because I didn’t think I had another choice. Because I was scared and worried and wanted to keep you safe.”
“I can accept that. I HAVE accepted it. But when everything was gone and you still stayed away? That’s what I’m having a hard time with. That I just can’t get past. And I want to; get past it.”
“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to say. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to make this better. To make it right.”
“There’s nothing you can say. Or do. You’ve already done it all. It’s just me. It’s me needing time to process and accept it and move on from it.”
“So what does that mean for us? You don’t want there to be an us? Until you’ve done all that?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. At all. Of course, I want there to be an us. Did you not ask me to marry you?”
“Not in so many words, but…”
“And did I not say okay?”
She nods.
“I want you. I want US. I want to raise our daughter together. I want to get married and have more kids. I mean, if that’s what you want. More.”
She manages a weak, shaly smile. “A couple more wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m actually looking forward to; finding out we’re having another one and seeing you pregnant. That’s one of the things I AM pissed about; that I didn’t get to see you like that. All cute and round, and the baby…MY baby…just growing and thriving in there.”
“I carried HUGE with Milile. People were always asking if there was more than one because of just how huge I was. I told them, ‘This is what happens when you procreate with a giant.’”
“I hope you know I’m going to be one of those insanely protective dads-to-be.”
“More protective than you already are with me? Is that even possible?”
“Don’t challenge me, Esme. You’d be surprised how far I can go with it. And I’ll deal with my shit; all the issues I’ve got going on because of what happened. But I’ll do it WHILE we’re together. I’m not worried about that; it causing problems between us or with our family. I just thought you needed to know that I AM still struggling with all of this; you staying away and keeping Millie from me. And I don’t know how long I’ll actually fight with it, but I will get over it. Eventually.”
“And you’ll still love me? Even when things seem extra hard?”
“I love you no matter what. I never stopped. Not once in those five years. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”
As he leans in to peck his lips, her fingers aggressively push through his hair. A long, trembling sigh escaping her when the hand on the nape of her neck tightens its grip; holding her firmly against him as he prolongs and deepens the kiss. Long, sinuous movements of lips and tongue, accompanied by naked limbs that glide and rub against each other as they once more sprawl out across the bed. And when air becomes a necessity, he pulls away and braces himself on both arms above her; a smile curving her lips as she reaches up to trace the line of his jaw.
“Can I ask YOU something now?”
“As long it’s not about my ex-wife, what happened between you and me five years ago, or what’s going to happen in less thirty-six hours.”
“It’s not about any of those things.”
“What do you want to ask me?”
“Is it true? That Yaz has a hard-on for me?”
Chuckling, Tyler leans down and nips at the side of her neck. “You’re a brat.”
“Did he actually tell you that? That he’s packing a woody for me?”
“I can’t give away all his secrets. I’ve said enough.”
“Did you threaten to rip from limb to limb if he even tried anything?”
“No.” He presses a series of warm, soft kisses across her collarbone, his beard scraping the pale, delicate skin. “I told him YOU would.”
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batcavescolony · 4 months
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Me every three or so months: let me reread every fic in this hyper specific fanfic genre for a specific fandoms
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bottomschlatt · 4 months
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you’d think system aus would be way more common in sanders sides content but in reality most people simply aren’t brave enough to write thomas sanders plurality truthing
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childlikegoblinqueen · 10 months
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Comfort Watch and Past Fic Writing Notes
Re-watching Stranger Things Season 3 (the show is a comfort watch) and remembering some of my favorite scenes to write in Stranger Tides (I really enjoyed writing Gus' Murray Bauman moment...)
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winter-literature · 1 year
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Death Note x Link Click
Head Cannon/Excerpt
Okay, hear me out. What if Lu went to Whammy’s? And became friends with Beyond because B couldn’t see his death date? There are so many possibilities and ideas! But most of all, I love the idea of making Lu into A.
In my original head noodle, he was originally Russian with a name such as Alec, but I like the story that comes with it from staying with Lu. But just. So many possible directions.
Anyways, here’s a quick excerpt of one of these ideas:
Lu pulled Cheng further onto his chest as they cuddled under the stars. Cheng’s curly ponytail tickled where Lu’s jaw met his ear, bringing a soft smile to the usually stoic face.
“I just don’t understand why they called you A!” Cheng huffed, his ponytail bobbing along with each syllable.
Rolling his eyes, Lu ran his thumb along Cheng’s jawline. “Well, L was already taken.”
“You know that doesn’t make it normal!” Cheng barked back. “Erasing the rest of a kid’s name is damn weird too!”
Lu hummed in agreement, continuing his caressing of Cheng’s face.
Sighing, Cheng gave in and asked the question burning on the tip of his tongue. “Why did they name you A? Why not another letter?”
“Hmmm…” Lu stared at their reflection on the glass rather than the stars above. “Well, besides L the only other student smart enough was going by B. Taking A made it seem like there was some form of categorizational purpose to our names.”
“Oh, yeah, I get it!” Cheng’s voice was thickly animated in irony. “Thing one and thing two!”
“Huh.” Lu nodded in thoughtful assent. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate.”
“What kind of stuff did they teach you there?” Cheng kept attempting to pick into Lu’s past.
“Shhh…” Lu whispered against Cheng’s skin.
Lu found it exhausting to talk about Whammy’s. He was wary of even saying the school’s name out loud, as if the name itself was an omen. It was a cult of its own form, one built on secrecy and elite performance. If anyone were to catch a whiff of Whammy’s entering casual conversation that could be brought back to him, the entire life he’d build would be torn apart.
Part of him yearned to go back. To see if, after hours of yelling, Beyond would forgive him. In reality, Beyond would understand more than anyone why he had to leave, why he had to make everyone think he was dead. After all, Beyond was the was the only one who could adequately comprehend the burden of knowledge.
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I think I found my Story Mafia Henry.
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obligatedburden · 2 years
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Obligated Burden Kristen Teaser
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Kristen
I knew that if I ended up dead, that He would be the one who killed me. There was never any doubt about it, I always knew that I couldn’t ever fully escape him, even after all the years I’ve been on the run and hiding after I left with Dianna and Samantha. I just never fucking counted on him killing me and Lindsee, (God help her) being the person who would be the unfortunate one that would be burdened with somewhat witnessing my murder. I already had asked her to be half of the two individuals that would be my daughters Legal Guardians in the case if something happened to me. I’m surprised that she had even agreed, I just wish that I could have told her that by accepting this role, there would be some deep dark secrets attached with this commitment or that I in a way had a double life with the mafia and had asked them for help and had a plan put in place in the case of something ever happening to me.
I was placed in a desperate position, at that time in life, and couldn’t think clearly. The only person, I felt that I could trust at that moment was Charles Brandon. One of the only men I could ever trust that helped me get out of my own hell. Let’s just hope, that Lindsee doesn’t want to find a way where she can come after me in the afterlife and want to strangle me. Or that Charles can get her to trust him since he had already agreed to be the other half of Dianna and Samantha’s Legal Guardians.
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Going to go on ahead and Write a Henry Cavill/Sebastian Stan Character Cross Over Fan Fiction Story for October 2022
I’m going to do this, I’m going to write a Henry Cavill/Sebastian Stan Character Cross Over Fan Fiction. I hope that would get some people excited that I actually want to attempt this or that they would be interested in reading. I’ll explain why I want to start writing and to then begin posting all throughout October.
As a Domestic Violence Survivor, I wanted to write something for Next month in October, which many people aren’t aware of also is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I’ve come up with an idea that would be perfect for October that I have been thinking about constantly a lot more for the past few months. This story plot/idea keeps coming back or resurfacing, it’s now just begging and itching for me to get out of my head and write. Maybe more now because of current events that have gone on this past summer that have involved Violence Against Women and Roe V Wade being overturned.
It seems that if something or someone gets me angry enough to want and latch out or do something, I’ll end up venting through writing, some of my best work has been the result of that.
The title I came up with was “Obligated Burden”. Just to add some background info, I’ve had this story idea in my head for the last 9 years. Not the first time I have ever had a story stuck in my head that long. Some of my original story plots might have changed a bit after what has been going on since 2013 and becoming Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill fans. Some writing prompts I’ve recently come across and have been saving have also given me more ideas.
One thing still does remain the same though, and that is part of the plot where it is an arranged marriage business contract deal that the two main characters are coerced to do and have no choice since they are both given legal custody of their God Children after their mother is murdered. I really don’t want to use Coercion in the title, and looked up various words for Coerce. At first, I was going to go with Obligated Requirement but then decided to go with Obligated Burden. Or maybe Coercive Burden could work, I’m not sure.
That’s my idea, I’m going to try and start plotting an outline today while I watch Top Gun 2 and The Man From U.N.C.L.E, now a bit thankful that I have and use 2 working laptops sometimes at once, one I can watch the movies in and the other can have a word document open and can work on writing.
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sukunasweetheart · 8 months
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actor!sukuna!!!
warnings; fem reader, jjk manga spoilers, a bit of both submissive and dominant sukuna, and also sukuna who loves his domineering wife a little too much, smut and fluff at the end, breeding, choking, use of collar and leash (on sukuna), rough sex, lots of teasing and provoking
i really really adore the trope where actors who play utterly vile, evil villain roles all the time simply bc of their intimidating appearance but their real personality is rather sweet and gentle, and i desperately want to apply this to sukuna. they would've probably needed to cast a whole different man for his trueform, which is what inspired this idea <3<3
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actor!sukuna is oh so very notorious for his antagonistic roles, always always being the charismatic, devilish character in any film, tv series or dramas he's casted in, the ones that always somehow has the upper hand, who never shows care for anyone else, who always seems to have control over everything in all situations he's put into...
and the recent hit series 'jujutsu kaisen' is exactly the same. with him being the king of curses, having those extra cgi arms and tummy mouth and having to spend hours before shooting simply doing the makeup for the distorted side of his face. not to mention all those tattoos!
actor!sukuna, who loves his job, but sometimes gets exhausted by the kinds of roles he has to play. he's gotten so used to it, his normal facial expressions and mannerisms also may have changed a little because at times he gets himself too immersed into his character
and you might say fiction doesnt cross over to real life at the best of times, but for sukuna, it might not be the case... he's noticed over the years that people around him do truly get scared or intimidated by him. and like any celebrity, he has his own fair share of haters.
with his character's newest victim being the fans' beloved gojo satoru, it only aggravated them-- and he knew from the moment he read the script that he was going to get flamed for it. he's used to this but because of jjk's intense popularity, he actually gets a little concerned this time around...
thankfully, thankfully! he has a wife he can run home to and seek comfort from, and fully let go of this fictional persona of his.
actor!sukuna, who is often burdened with the unconscious expectations from others, to have his intimidating aura and always have control over situations (maybe sometimes people)...
but he is able to put all of this down in front of you and just lay in your lap in front of the tv as you play with his pink curls.
oh, he's so grateful for his wife, who fulfills his hidden desires... his wife, who didn't see him only by his villainous roles, but also took notice of his gentler side and decided to grab hold onto that part of him with an iron grip instead.
actor!sukuna may be a man well over two metres tall, with a resting bitch face and a deep, velvety voice perfect for being a natural dominant and aggressive lover-- which, sometimes he is of course, when the situation calls for it (whenever you feel like you want to be dominated) - but in actuality, he aches to be controlled for the most part, rather than the one controlling...
when he told you about his worries of his real life reputation, of how people on set seem to avoid him subtly, and get a bit over-polite with him, you sent a handful of extravagant food and drink trucks over to the shooting set in sukuna's name, raising the spirits of his colleagues, the camera and film crew members etc., and of course, sukuna himself.
and everytime he has any complaints about his job, you comfort him by saying that if he ever feels like it's too much, he can quit anytime he wants, because you'd be happy to be him support financially as long as he'd be your househusband *wink wink*
actor!sukuna laughs at the thought, but there are times where he seriously considers it... he is getting older, and sometimes doing all these action scenes as the villain is taxing on his body... (perhaps after jjk is over, he'll take a well deserved, long break from his career for a little while)
before getting married, from the moment sukuna first interacted with you, he was already hooked- you flirted with him openly without expecting him to take lead, and you talked less about his various identities in his shows, but showed more curiosity in his true self, and he was simply attracted to your... fearlessness?
and a part of him tried to fight against it too, but you were simply too charismatic. (it only charmed him more)
"you're an awfully cocky woman. you sure you can take me on?"
"take you on? oh, no, handsome. you'll be the one taking me on. i'll have you wrung out dry by the end of this week... if you'll let me, of course."
and that, he did.
fast forward to the present.
sukuna had come home without erasing all the makeup from his filming of jjk, to your curiosity...
"the king of curses, was it? the name of this character," you ask with a relaxed voice, watching as sukuna's large cock throbs between his legs, drooling precum messily into his boxers. ironically, you're the one lying against your back on the bed, with him hovering over your body longingly, but not being permitted to touch you... yet.
you'd put a collar around his neck. and you have him leashed, with the rope being in your hand. he has you between his arms that are supporting his body weight... muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his skin from his own arousal.... he was supposed to be tired from today's filming session but right now, his whole body is heating up like boiling water in a kettle. how cruel of you to do this to him, right after he gets home from work.
you loop the rope around your fingers once, and tug on the leash harshly, making his face shift closer to yours.
"i'd like to hear an answer, please."
"...yes, the king of curses," sukuna hisses, eyeing the leash that both turns him on and also pisses him off simultaneously.
"interesting..." you hum with a smile, gently touching the fabricated side of his face that's been made with make up.
"i do have to say, the tattoos and black nails fit you so well, my love."
sukuna remains silent as he resists the urge to kiss you, with your lips hovering so close to his.
"don't fuck me with your eyes, honey. you're making yourself too obivous," you tease, ghosting your fingers over his chest, touching him languidly. his dick swells even more.
"darling, please... i need to touch you," sukuna says, softspoken and yearning so hard it makes him dizzy.
"oh... i love when you beg like that. what would your fans think, if they saw their most cold-blooded villain pleading me like this?"
with a collar and leash on, no less.
"it wouldn't matter what they think. you're the only one i love," he responds, shuddering as you nudge your knee against the erection in his pants.
"i like that answer."
you kiss him, which is an act that means you're permitting him to finally lay his hands on you - and this breaks the restraint he'd been holding onto until now.
sukuna kisses you back with a throaty growl, slipping his tongue in to smother you with, as your lips are curled up into a pleased smile. drunk on the taste of you, he doesn't stop kissing until he's had his fill. both of you are breathing heavily when he finally pulls away, his face being flushed beautifully.
large hands come to tug away at your clothes, exposing the swell of your chest, and he clamps his lips around one of your nipples, like a man starving... you gasp, and tug at his soft hair from the back, the other hand still gripping onto the rope that connects with his collar.
you arch your back when he nips on them a little, earning him a hiss from you and another harsh tug at his leash. when he comes up to face you once again, he's wearing a smirk with foggy eyes, satisfied with this small payback.
once he finally comes around to releasing his strained cock, he gives a sigh of relief. the tip is glistening with his precum, and he wants to be buried in your cunt so bad. he slides it in with one go.
"oof, always so big, aren't you?" you tell him, feeling his throbbing dick reach so deep inside. it's not your first time saying such a thing, so he knows you mean it as a compliment. it inflates his ego.
"fuck- you feel so good," he mumbles mindlessly, pushing your thighs back.
sukuna begins to thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping down against your ass as he starts with a slow pace. another tug of his leash gets him to stop again.
"c'mon, love. is that all you can do?" you urge him, your grip still strong on his rope. he narrows his eyes, and pushes your thighs back harder, and begins to slam his hips into you, the way you love it.
"f-fuck... harder, sukuna... harder-" you moan as you keep taunting him with several pulls of his leash.
"tug that thing one more time..." he mutters with a low, out of breath voice, "and i'll make you regret it."
you love it when he's submissive, but even more so when he's in the mood to put his foot down. but you're not giving in so easily. you give it another tug, playfully.
"try me."
from then on, he snaps and decides he'll give you your own "collar".
his hand.
you squeal in delight as he roughs you up from his grip on your throat, to the biting, and to the bruising pace of his thrusts, all harmonising to bring you to your orgasm...
when sukuna cums, he does so right against your cervix, spilling all his thick, hot seed into your womb, with a loud groan. he's sucking a hickey onto your shoulder as he does so, full body shuddering with each clench of his balls as he dumps more into you. your pussy squeezes around him, fingernails digging deeply into his muscled back, feeling blissful.
he soon collapses onto you, and you start playing with his hair again, as he rests momentarily, being spent after the rough sex that happened when he'd just come back home. you'll need to reward him later for this.
in the bathroom, you help him scrub away all those tattoos, and tear off that falsified right side of his face. he appreciates this, especially the ones on his back that are difficult to reach. in the tub, you sit between his legs, and lean back as he dotes on you, calloused hands not leaving anywhere of you untouched.
once the bathing is finished, you do his nightly skin care routine for him. an actor's gotta preserve their skin, you know. before the moisturizer though, you press a soft kiss onto his pure face, clean of tattoos, and hum with a pleased expression.
"i love this one more, after all."
he huffs out a chuckle and pulls you onto his lap.
"hah. the king of curses ought to cry real tears with envy."
he clings onto you all night, face buried into your chest, indulging in the feeling of being the little spoon.
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Masterlist
Tagging: @yuujispinkhair and @gojos-thot-patrol (who encouraged the leash idea...)
credit and link to the cute heart dividers here
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querenciasturniolo · 10 months
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guest ⮕ m.s.
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word count: 1.6k
warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment
summary: request
a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way
(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”
“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”
“And I’m Chris.”
Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.
“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.
You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.
“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.
“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.
“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”
“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”
Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.
Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.
“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.
“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.
Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.
The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.
“So, back to the topic at hand—”
“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.
“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.
“Guys, what are we even—”
“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.
Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.
“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.
“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.
Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.
“Wow, riveting.”
Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”
“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.
“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.
“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.
“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.
“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”
“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.
You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”
“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.
“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”
Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”
“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.
“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.
“It’s blue.”
“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.
“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.
“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.
“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.
Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.
“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.
You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.
You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.
“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.
“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.
“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.
“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal
“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.
You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”
“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.
“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.
“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”
You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.
“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.
“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.
You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.
“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.
The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.
It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.
Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.
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lbxbx · 2 months
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Blackmail | KTH
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Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader
Genre: smut, angst. Five shot
Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.
Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.
next
“He’s probably late over something stupid.” One of the hairstylists huffs blowing her fringe off of her face.
Nothing new really, you’re so sick of hearing her whine all the time, as if she’s not aware of how hectic the schedule is especially during their tour, not only the schedule is all over the place, they usually get sick and exhausted during this time so they do deserve to rest for an hour longer at least.
Of course you rolled your eyes and sometimes you would actually leave the entire room the second she starts whining and radiating negative energy to the entire staff, once she starts nagging, the energy shifts right away since over half of the staff don’t like her.
You were able to manage though and got used to it since you’ve been working with her for a couple years now, you figured out a way to reduce your chances of a headache. The moment she starts whining you take your airpods out of your pocket and put them on, blasting the music really high up and totally caring less if you couldn’t hear people around you.
Your job was quite sensitive, it took you years to get to where you are right now, you had to be there all the time whether it was broadcasts, practice or even listening parties or stupid birthday parties, you were always there with them.
And being with them for a few years now made you all really close, you understand their characters very well and it’s nothing like what people see on TV or their phone screens, they’re still human after all, and most importantly, they’re still men.
It’s four in the afternoon and time is ticking, the concert is supposed to be started by 9 in the evening and they’re still not here, and there was still a sound check and practice that had to be done first, you were really behind on schedule. You see the girls standing up at the same time which makes you lower down the music.
You hear footsteps coming from the end of the aisle and the staff are all on standby which means that they’re finally here, you take your spot near your station and put your airpods back in their case ready to start on Taehyung’s face.
Your work suited his face the best, of course you’d work on everyone’s face if they needed you to cover for someone, but you were really skilled and your talent suited his features the most. You’ve been working on Taehyung for a couple months now.
 He gets into the room and yanks his top off, a view you’re used to the entire time whether it was him or any of them, he throws himself onto the chair and looks at you once before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How are you?” A forced smile lingers on his face.
“Good, how are you?” You smile under your face mask, he nods his head. “Sleep deprived, but I should make it.”
“Fingers crossed.” You cross your own fingers and put a headband around his head to get his hair off of his face, he’s growing his hair really tall that he’s tying it in a man bun most of the time. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not planning to cut it off.”
He’s smarter than what people think, you giggle and nod. “I think it looks good on you.” You finally pump some primer onto your hand and start dabbing it onto the skin of his face.
You know people envy you for your job, and in fact you’re really happy with it because it pays really well along with other privileges. Their fans probably envy you the most and you know they look really good but you’re not attracted to any of them in any possible way. You spent so much time with them that they feel like colleagues.
After all, you and them work for the same company.
He takes his phone out and dims the brightness as he starts rapidly texting someone, his leg anxiously moving up and down, you’re used to that too, he must be nervous or tired.
It was peak summer and the weather was suffocating, the humidity and the heat together forced everyone to either wear less clothes or constantly keep the air conditioners turned on, but in your case you had to chose both because you cannot stand the heat, and you get really embarrassed if you got sweaty.
And honestly your top was driving you insane, it was really lose that it kept going down your shoulder, and whenever you would move to grab a brush or anything, it would slip down your shoulder and reveal your bra straps, you can’t keep holding onto it the entire time because you needed both your hands while you’re working, so once you adjust your top it would slip back down your shoulders in seconds.
It kept happening over and over before Taehyung notices, a smug smirk sits on his face before he runs his index finger over the collar of your shirt. “I love your shirt.” And you playfully slap his hand off and grab him by his chin to throw his head back, dabbing contour onto his jaw line. “Thank you, I got it when we were in Vegas last year.”
He moves his head down again to look at your plain white top as if it was his first time seeing this excessive amount of skin, he’s totally checking out your tits and cleavage that appeared whenever your shirt fell down your shoulder. “Oh I miss Vegas.”
“You do?” You push his head back again and he finally gives in. “I enjoyed shopping there.”
“Other magical stuff can happen in Vegas if you know what I mean.” He winks at you which makes you force a laugh. “Says the one who spent his entire time at the hotel.”
“Exactly.” He simply agrees before looking around making sure no one is listening before signaling you to come closer and you do, and he whispers. “I spent two nights with four different women.”
You’re used to so many weird things from the seven boys, but this is a first for you. You look around worriedly hoping that no one over heard him, your body tenses and you feel the need to escape this weird topic. “It was an iconic concert though.”
He scoffs before whispering again. “Girl fuck the concert, four different whores in two nights, it was an experience out of this world.”
“Taehyung.” Your voice stern and serious when you stop him. “You know this isn’t allowed, and you’re being a little loud right now.”
He waves his hand before he looks you dead in the eye. “We do this all the time, nothing is not allowed.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s always you men bragging about stuff like that.”
And he even dares to look around the room again. “There are 13 different women in this room right now, I slept with like.. 9 of them.”
Your shirt drops down your shoulder again but you’re too occupied working on the face in front of you that’s been blabbering nonstop about things that are making you severely uncomfortable. “This is totally not okay.”
“Says who.” His eyes pierce through your cleavage. “Sometimes girls beg me to sleep with them, and I can’t let them down can I?”
“You’re lying.” Your fingers start working faster still making sure the makeup that sits on his face is flawless, you’re wishing this conversation would end fast.
“I can show you if you want to.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge and you giggle thinking in your head that he’s totally joking, but he probably isn’t.
“No thanks I’m good.” You finally put on some lip tint and spray his face with a setting spray. “You’re good to go.”
He gets up but his eyes are still focused onto your chest, a little uncomfortable space between you two as he puts his hands in his pockets. “If you still don’t believe me go ask Namjoon or Jungkook, they spent the night with someone and they could probably tell you about it.”
“Why are you insisting on proving it to me?” You frown and walk a step back, “I’m not interested in finding out more.”
He shrugs carelessly. “I wanted to do you a favor, maybe the nine I fucked in this room can finally be ten, by then I’ll have only three left.” He laughs, totally proud of the joke he said, if that’s even considered a joke.
You scrunch your nose and hit his chest playfully, you kind of wished you did it harder though before you tell him. “Shut up, get away.”
He takes another step closer and hooks his finger to the collar of your shirt to reveal your chest that’s only covered with a bra.
“I know the female body really well, and I know women really like having their tits sucked, have you ever had your tits sucked before?”
This time you push him harder and hug your shirt closer to your chest. “You’re crossing the limits Taehyung. Get away.”
He laughs playfully and feigns innocence before tapping your nose. “You’re so cute do you know that? I’ll see you on the break, maybe you should do some thinking until then.”
Mira the hairstylist pushes Taehyung back onto his chair and takes the headband off of his head, you reorganize the makeup into the makeup bag when you overhear him asking her. “Are you feeling better today?”
Mira sounds flustered when she answers him. “Shut up.”
Maybe he did actually fuck over half of the girls around this room, this man is unbelievable.
-
As soon as the first part of the concert ended they moved backstage again to change and have their makeup retouched, you knew he was going to start the awkward talk again so you put your airpods  on and pretended to be listening  to music even if you weren’t. His eyes were  piercing through your entire body the whole time.
He takes out his phone and opens the gallery to purposely open a video he filmed, he could see that you were watching his screen so he turns up the brightness on his phone.
In the video was a naked girl on her knees in front of him, her hands tied behind her back and her makeup was smudged, she was begging him to make her cum . And he was caressing her cheek and  putting his thumb between her lips.
Your facial expressions change and you find yourself cringing, he looks at you and bats his eyelashes. “I told you.”
“Taehyung, this is wrong on so many levels.” You push his face to the side to work on his makeup.
“It isn’t, I promise.” He shakes his head. “I promise you no one will ever know. We can spend a couple nights together and that’s it, no strings attached.”
And you immediately refuse. “Absolutely not.”
“Are you close with any of the girls around here?” He asks and you’re a little taken back at his question. “Yeah?”
“Who?”
“Luna I guess.” You name one of the girls while shrugging and he scoffs, before exiting the video on his phone and scrolling through it to open another video.
In it you see Luna one of your closest friends in the company, blindfolded in a bed and Taehyung’s face is in between her legs as he’s eating her out. Is it really okay to mess around?
“You can’t be serious.” You gasp. “Is it only you or do the other guys do the same?”
“I don’t care, but if you have your eye on someone I could hook you two up together or something.” He shrugs and your jaw visibly  drops. “You are unbelievable Kim Taehyung.”
“Wait until you try me in bed. I’m a fucking god.” He confidently speaks and you’re shocked, you’ve known the man for years but this is totally new for you. “Name someone else.” He exits the video on his phone before you shake your head. “No thanks, I don’t think I wanna see anymore.”
He locks his  phone and leans his head back onto the chair while crossing his arms. “Just think it through and I promise you won’t regret it.”
“It seems to me like you’re the one begging for sex.” You force a smirk, his eyes meet yours for a couple seconds and he mirrors your smirk. “What if I was?”
“You’re getting nothing anyway.” You shrug. “You’re done, get up.”
“Oh I get it.” He remains in his seat. “Are you attracted to someone else? Let me guess, is it Jungkook? All women have something for that jerk.”
“I can’t deny he’s cute. But nope.”
“Is it Seokjin?” He tilts his head. “No, is it Jimin? Do you have a kink for cute guys or something?”
You roll your eyes and turn your head to walk away before he grabs your wrist. “Can you make my lips a little darker please?”
You look around trying to find the lip brush before dabbing some color onto his lips. “I’ve been told that I was good with my mouth, I just care about you so much I feel the need to make you experience it.”
“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and put the lip brush away, he rises up on his feet while laughing, “Alright I promise I’m done, but I just want you to think it through, you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m changing my mind.” You clean up your station, he brushes his entire body against your back and whispers. “Will you be there tomorrow on the episode filming?”
“Well I guess unfortunately I’m always there.” You flinch in your spot and immediately take a step back. “Taehyung please stop touching me like that.”
“Alright.” He takes a step back and whispers. “I have a surprise for you tomorrow, I promise you will love it.”
“Then maybe I should call sick.” You look at his reflection through the mirror, he smirks and high key stares down at your ass, a second away from actually groping it in front of the entire staff and his band mates. “So I’m guessing you don’t like surprises.”
“From you? Nope.” You turn to face him, realizing you’re sandwiched between him and the mirror behind you, “May I?” You clear your throat, trying to find a way to get away from him, he stands next to you and gives you enough space to walk out of the room, his eyes still locked onto your ass, thank god it was summer time and thank god for biker shorts. Taehyung was suffering when he can clearly see the outline of your panties through your shorts and he can’t do anything about it.
Your rejection only makes him insist more and Taehyung grew up spoiled, people got him everything he wanted, and if they didn’t, he made sure to get it in his own way. So your rejection doesn’t really matter to him. He will have you eventually.
Even if you said no.
-
It’s the next day and you were already on the set, luckily one of the other stylist couldn’t make it so you had to work with Namjoon and Jimin instead. You could clearly see Taehyung’s eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror even when he’s three chairs away. You roll your eyes when he winks at you and he even dares to blow a cheap kiss. Your friend Leah who’s been working on his face rolls her eyes too and stands in the way.
“Do you wanna put your lenses on?” You ask Namjoon, he takes one look at the mirror and shrugs. “I don’t feel like putting lenses on, what do you think?”
“You’d look good both ways, but maybe I should put more eye makeup on if you’re not putting lenses on, is that okay?” You fish out another palette and show him the colors and he nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Of course. Y/N’s so good you have no idea.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and walks towards you. “You’re lucky she listens to you, I tried suggesting things to her but she kept saying no.”
Namjoon scoffs and grabs out his phone. “It’s because she’s smart.” Does he know about his friend?
“Don’t you want to know about the surprise?” He puts one of his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to you, his other hand picking onto your top, even sneaking a look under it.  Practically there was nothing to see, the studio they were filming in was freezing cold so you had an extra layer on. You subtly push his hand away and look back at Namjoon’s face trying to finish him up. It was basically impossible with Taehyung distracting you.
He takes another step closer this time his body almost touching yours as he whispers. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot after we’re done filming, please come.”
You sigh and look at him, this can’t end up will and it won’t. His personality specifically scares you and you could swear the man was bipolar in some sort, when sometimes he’s all flirty and shit, and all of a sudden he claims this character that’s so innocent and cute which doesn’t really suit him.
“I’ll think about it.” You put the brush down and tap Namjoon’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
“It looks great, thank you.” He barely smiles and immediately leaves his chair to go and lay down on the nearest couch. You turn your head back to put the brush back into the makeup bag and Taehyung is still standing there. His eyes still scanning your entire body.
He’s a man with a plan, and honestly he knew exactly how he wants to have you. He scans you head to toe, your hair that he wants to pull on while he’s pounding into you uncontrollably, your lips and neck that he cannot wait to bite into. The way you bite your lip when you’re anxious or when you try to hide a laugh always ignited him.
Your chest, fuck he can easily tell the color of your bras and he even knows when you do your laundry, he knows exactly when are the days you wear on your sports bra, or the days you switched to your black bra that perfectly highlighted your tits. Although he grew to be a fan of your pastel pink bra that makes the color of your skin pop, he admires how the cups hug onto your big tits and this bra’s straps particularly keep sliding down your small shoulders.
He moves down to your waist and hips, the outline of your panties through your pants were like a gift from god to him, he would purposely drop things down on the floor just to watch you pick it back up, and those days would usually end up with him either hooking up with someone just to let it out of his system, or just jerk it off alone in his place.
Your juicy ass is going to be the death of him, he would sometimes sneak into the gym at the company just to watch you jog in your tights, satiating his eyes and scratching an itch inside him just to watch it jiggle right before his eyes.
During their tours he would constantly grab your handbag into his hotel room, making an excuse that your handbags look alike even when they aren’t even remotely close to being similar. He would lock the door right away and rummage through your clothes just to fish out all your panties and jerk off to them, one being around his cock and the other one near his nose and lips, sniffing and inhaling whatever is left onto them of your smell, even though they were washed, but he convinced himself that this is how you smell. It was really erotic.
And before you notice your bag missing, he would quickly take pictures of your panties just for him to keep and return them to your bag and switching it out with his. He lost control so many times and “Accidentally” Shot his seed onto your panties, and with the small span of time he had, he had to return them soiled into your handbag.
Which when you discovered it was already dried up, you huffed and the naïve you thought it was the bottle of your conditioner blew up or something, which if you think harder and open your eyes, it was only one soiled panty.
Taehyung had a goal, and growing up not being surrounded by many women in his life, he’s compensating but in an abnormal way, he has hooked up with over half the women who work in your company and it was your turn and he wanted to have you just so he can check your name on the list and tick it done.
“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer announces which snaps Taehyung out of his thoughts. “So did you pack for tomorrow?”
“Yeah, aren’t you excited?” You genuinely ask, you packed up your carry on the night before since you’re all heading to Osaka tomorrow for their tour. You can’t deny you love your job, you get to travel all over the world with them and you even get paid for it. But little do you know, there will be a price you have to pay.
“Oh yeah, even when it’s just for one day but I love Osaka.” He looks behind you and you follow his eyesight to find one of the stylists wearing short shorts that her lower butt cheek was clearly visible to everyone. You look back at Taehyung to see him still glancing at her ass with his head tilted. “Oh my god Taehyung, stop.”
He laughs and takes his phone out. “Come take a look. Her ass didn’t look like that when she was naked.” You debate for a second but you’re human after all and you’re a little curious, you stand next to him and watch him dig through a locked folder on his phone, scrolling up for a good two minutes before he finds the picture.
It was that stylist laying flat on the bed face down, her hand tied behind her back and her bare ass was sore read, clearly spanked and fucked until she passed out. And he was right, her ass didn’t look the same when she was naked. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that this isn’t wrong.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel better I get their consent before I do anything.” He scrolls up again. “Wanna see something else? Look, this is her.”
He hands you one of his airpods and you put it on, and he starts a video of her down on her knees, her eyes blood red, clearly she was either drunk or high, and she was begging him to slap her on the face with his thumb into her mouth.
“Shit.. Please daddy, please spank me and make me yours.”
“Good girl, are you going to be daddy’s little whore and beg more?”
“Please spank your little whore on the face, it feels so fucking good when you do that, please spank me.”
And he slaps her hard on the cheek enough to make her hair fall on her face, but she immediately looks back at him and begs him to do it again and again and he does. And you can’t help but to notice the tip of his cock showing in the video. “How does getting slapped on the face feel good? I don’t get it.”
“Shh-“ He notices your voice getting a little higher and opens up another video. “You shouldn’t knock it till you try it, every girl I’ve been with said it felt amazing.”
“Do you think you would enjoy getting slapped on the face?” You ask, blinking your eyes a couple of times, he smirks and locks his phone. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m willing to try it with you if you want to, maybe you can slap me on the face while you’re riding my dick, we’ll see if it feels good.”
Your face flushes at his explicit mentions of sex, you hit him on the arm and turn away from him, packing your kit into the makeup bag and taking a seat finally. And your flushed cheeks are considered as a good sign to him, he’s getting there and he’s slowly sinking his claws in to have you eventually.
The episode they’re filming took them a little over eight hours, you’re already packed and ready to leave and you hesitate actually going down to the parking lot, it’s almost an hour after filming and you’re not sure he’s still in the building or not.
The elevator stops at -1 and you make your way out, the entire floor is near empty and you can only spot around four cars parked around the floor, and all of them seem empty, except for the Genesis Suv that’s parked way back in the corner that flashes it’s lights repeatedly. It’s him.
You make your way there and reach your hand to the door handle and try to open it but it’s locked. Quite a trashy move of him to actually call you over and forget his car locked. You roll your eyes when he unlocks the car and you go inside. “What?”
“What?” He mocks you and locks his car again, “How was your day?”
“Taehyung just make it quick will you? We have a flight to catch tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready—“ You’re interrupted by him shushing you and grabbing your purse away from you to put in the back seat. He reaches his entire body to the car floor and takes out a little box that’s wrapped in a tiny velvety ribbon. “This is my surprise for you.”
You’re intrigued. Your gaze meets his for a split second before you reject the box. “I can’t take gifts from you.”
He doesn’t even argue as he offers you the box again. “Hey, you don’t have to open it now if you want to.” He puts the box down onto your lap and leans his arm on the middle console. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and you’ll tell me what you think, deal?”
You’re even more intrigued and you’re getting more curious to actually find out what’s inside, and why would he actually stay after schedule just to hand you this gift? You even shake the box while suspiciously maintaining eye contact with him which makes him smirk. You can only hear one thing clicking in the box and you can’t quite put a finger on it and figure out what it is?
“Alright, whatever. Are you going to drive me to my place or what?” You already put your hand on the door handle ready to leave the car. “No I can’t I’m sorry, I have a place to be, I can get you to the bus stop if you want to.” He just says that out of pity. What a douche.
“No thank you, I’ll walk there.” You squint your eyes before you leave the car, he doesn’t even wait for you to walk out of the building and he drives away fast, he really is a douche.
Public transportation wasn’t a big deal for you anyway, the ride home on the bus was very therapeutic to you, you usually keep your headphones on and listen to an audio book on your way back to clear your mind, or you would usually catch up with your friends on the group chat or something.
Sometimes you would even fall asleep if it was an exhausting day, but on your trip home tonight you were anticipating getting to your studio apartment so much, not that you’re greedy for the gift or anything, but you’re just curious why he so suddenly decided on giving you a gift that actually looks expensive.
You get there after a 40 minute trip and you finally get into your flat, not even taking your shoes off you rush to your couch and put the box down and untie the little dainty velvety ribbon, you take the top of the box off and you only see a few wrapping papers covering what seems to be a clothing item. You take it out and you feel your entire body heat up. It’s a costume.
No no, not any costume, it’s a little too slutty to be an actual costume. It’s a black leather one piece with spaghetti straps, a really low neck line that you know no one’s chest will ever fit in them. Not only that, but a pair of black lace stockings and suspenders, and a choker.
What in hell..
You put them down on the couch beside you and dig deeper into the box to find cat ears headband and a.. What the actual fuck.
A butt plug?
You cannot believe him, you put the blame on yourself for actually listening to him and meeting him up in the parking lot, and you shouldn’t have accepted the gift in the first place, he’s an actual man whore.
You scrunch up the entire outfit in a messy ball and throw it back in the box, before closing it and throwing it near your door on the floor, so you can pick it up and throw it in the trash in the morning.
-
A mini-van is supposed to collect all the girls up from their places and head to the airport, and of course you’re late. Last night’s sleep was horrendous, you couldn’t stop overthinking about the little trashy gift you got from the trashy man. You cannot believe some girls actually idolize this man.
“Y/N, if we miss the flight we have to book one ourselves.” Mira shouts as you hurriedly close your carry on and struggle to put on your pair of sneakers. You look at the trash near your door and sigh. “Damn it. I have to take the trash out.”
“Nope, you’re not taking anything out, I’m not willing to pay anything extra for the job I cannot stand.” She’s slowly losing her patience and so are you. You forget about the trash and get out of your place and lock your door.
The moment you get to the airport it’s already chaotic. Their schedule has been up since last week to the public and their fans know that they’re going out for tour, so they’re waiting there to hand them gifts and handmade letters. Again you cannot believe the image he shows to people of him when you know his true personality.
And boy was he good at faking an entire persona, you have no idea what girls think of him but fuck he’s nowhere near how girls imagine him. A trashy human being that you could swear reeks like sex the entire time. He looks like he woke up with a hangover so you guess he was probably with someone last night and he was onto something.
He notices your existence amid all the chaos when you all get up to the lounge to have your breakfast even when you could’ve waited to get to Japan to eat, the trip wasn’t that far away. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and stack up food on your plate, you know you won’t have the time to eat later so you decide on fueling up early today.
“Good morning.” He puts his coffee down on the same table you’re sitting around and you sigh before looking around. Relax Y/N, you cannot make a scene.
“Good morning.” You proceed on eating, you cannot let him ruin your morning this quickly.
“So, what do you think?” He crosses his legs and tilts his head towards you. “The moment I saw the costume I knew I had to buy it for you.”
“Mhm, truly says a lot about your character, a trashy gift from someone like you.” You don’t beat around the bush. He laughs and leans towards you to whisper. “Please tell me you got it in your luggage.”
“Nope, I’m getting rid of it—“
He shrugs right away. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”
A moment of silence fills the air when your gaze meets his for a couple seconds, he pulls his chair closer to yours and takes his phone out which makes you whine. You know he’s going to show you more of his kinky NSFW content and it’s really uncomfortable for you to watch it. “Look, I don’t know how I can explain this better for you, but trust me. It is okay for things like that to happen in this field.”
“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.” There you go, a girl with standards.
“I swear it is okay.” He pulls his chair even closer and now his shoulder is rubbing against yours when he whispers. “Y/N baby, us men are totally different. You girls can go around without sex for ages and you won’t even care. But men have this sexual energy that they need to let out one way or another.”
This is really disgusting.
“And people like us need to be careful on who to hook up with, and you girls are the safest because we work together.” He shrugs. “Not only us, every idol in the country has to do so.”
Of course it’s partially right, but you’re genuinely confused on why wouldn’t he just get a girlfriend instead of bitching around with plenty of women.
“You know, the idea itself is not that acceptable, but I can understand. But why do you film them? For the love of god you have an entire folder on your phone dedicated to this content. I mean, why do you have to film them when you have them right there in front of you?”
“Good question.” He nods. “You know how some people try and discover themselves, they sometimes dig around here and there trying to find out what actually turns them on, and you know they try and discover their preferences?”
“Are you trying to mansplain what kinks are?” You proceed on eating. “So is that your kink? You like filming women?”
“It’s more fun than the actual thing to me. And the times I made myself cum to the videos I created are countless. It’s fucking sexy.” He grits on his teeth and puts an arm around your chair. You’re getting uncomfortable with him not leaving you enough amount of personal space. “I love watching them looking at the camera and begging to be fucked and just submit to me.”
“And they’re all okay with being filmed?” You ask him and he nods right away. “Now they know what I like, and now they ask me to film them. What about you?”
“No, I’m good thank you.” You answer right away and put down your fork when you’ve fully wiped your plate clean.
“No, I mean what kinks do you have? Have you tried discovering what your preferences are?” He asks, twirling a strand of your hair in his hand, you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers. “What was it like being fucked the first time?”
It takes you a moment to answer but you eventually do. “I don’t remember what it was like, it was long ago, but I don’t recall it being fun.”
“First time is always awkward.” He nods. “What about the second time?”
You shrug one shoulder and cross your arms. “I don’t think of sex the way you do. I mean I’ve had sex multiple times with different partners, but I think it’s a little overrated.”
“Overrated?” He’s offended. His hand sits on his chest. “You think sex is overrated?”
“Okay chill.” You get up on your feet to refill your coffee and he follows you. “I just don’t find it as fun and as pleasuring as people claim it is.”
“It’s because you haven’t had it with the right person.” He defends right away. “Oh my god did you even cum before?”
You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe.”
He’s interrupted by your gate opening, their carryon luggage is carried and already loaded inside and the rest of the staff is starting to board. “This isn’t finished yet. I’ll see you when we get to our hotel.”
“Whatever Taehyung, don’t make a big deal out of this.” You push him away to grab your bag and get in line. “It is a big deal.” He argues one last time and gets in line and boards the plane.
-
You have no idea what went through you, but the entire flight you were rethinking your conversation with him and you find yourself slowly getting convinced about the idea generally. You really surprised yourself when you hum out loud, thinking that you are getting curious to try and spend one night with him.
Do girls actually want to sleep with him because he’s good? Or because he’s an idol and that’s like literally a fetish to some people.
You cannot deny he’s really good looking, he’s really charming on camera but even the camera doesn’t do him any justice, he was perfectly sculpted in real life and way more attractive than people think.  But it’s just his recurrent sexual behavior that’s been setting you off. You find yourself cringing.
The entire plane has been booked for Bangtan and their staff. Them with their managers, security, filming staff, directors, producers, engineers, stylists and makeup artists of course, editors. Everyone on this plane knew each other.
It was a little noisy to begin with since some are catching up and some are chatting, so you put your earphones on the entire flight, and right when your third song on your playlist ended and the fourth one is about to start, you over hear the girls behind you.
“You need to cover for me when we get there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can barely stand on my feet, and I’m really sore from last night.”
“Who did you spend the night with? I thought you were inviting me.”
“Taehyung and Jungkook. I passed out at the end.”
“You’re kidding.” 
So it is normal for girls to actually sleep with them and go around telling their friends like it’s totally okay. It’s starting to feel like a whore house, and it probably is.
You peak your head to look towards Jungkook and Taehyung, both of them are sleeping and even snoring. Of course they’re tired when they spend the previous night with the same girl. This is so fucked up.
Not long after you all get to the hotel to spend the only free hour you get before your day starts and you all head to the stadium for rehearsals. You’re surprised that the entire hotel is booked for the staff too and you luckily get your own room with one single bed, but who are you to complain? You always hated having roommates, so one bed is way better than having a roommate.
Right when you’re about to close the door a foot stops it from moving any further which startles you for a second before you open the door again. Of course it’s him, who’s been digging deep and moving around asking stylists which room you got. “Oh come on.” You whine.
“Can I come in?” He so politely and innocently asks, for a second you’d doubt he’s the same person who showed you an entire folder of girls begging him to do stuff to them. He doesn’t even step a foot further inside your room before you huff and roll your eyes. “Come in.”
He takes one last look to the corridor and walks in, the door automatically locking when it closes.
“What’s up?” You act occupied as you take out your skin care products to put onto the dresser. He plops down onto your bed and grabs the pillow to put under his head. “We have unfinished business.”
“Taehyung, don’t you take no for an answer?” You don’t even spare him a glance.
“Hey, If it makes you feel any better, I’m your friend and colleague, we’re around the same age, consider this as a friend helping another friend.” He shrugs and talks as if it’s that easy. “And if it makes you comfortable, I’m not filming you if you don’t want to.”
“Oh yeah, because filming me was the only problem.” You turn your head to the little coffee machine in the corner of your room and make yourself a cup, he doesn’t argue back which makes you wonder why, you turn your head and he’s literally digging into your handbag and taking out one of your bras.
“Kim fucking Taehyung.” You snatch your bra away from him. “Get out.”
“I knew you were a C cup.” He gets up onto his feet. “Look, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why you’re really over thinking it. It’s just a one time thing, we hook up and that’s it, no one has to even know.”
“You could easily lure any woman into bed and we both know it, but snatching away my bra and showing me your stupid kink and shit won’t get me into bed with you.” You put your bra back into your handbag and close it.
“Then tell me how.” He puts his hand into his pockets. “What could get Y/N to sleep with me?”
“Exactly, and it’s nothing, nothing could get me to sleep with you Taehyung, this is fucked up.”
“Money? How much and I’ll give it to you cash, right now.”
The audacity on this man.
“Oh my god, you’re making it even worse if you can’t tell. Get out.” You open the door to your room.
He huffs and walks towards the door to shut it again. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if this offended you I didn’t mean so. But again why are you rejecting it? Millions of women want to be in your place.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m not one of those millions. Besides, how am I supposed to look at you again if we ever slept together?” You cross your arms.
“Like you’ve always looked at me.” He pouts. “Nothing will change, no strings attached, it’s just one night, is it my fault that I really want you to enjoy one night?”
You open the door again and look him in the eye, your coffee is already gone cold and you’re over this argument. He closes the door again and tugs your hair behind your ear, whispering softly. “Y/N.. I feel like you’re different, you’re nothing like other girls, you’re a really nice, sweet and attractive young lady that deserves to feel like a woman.”
It’s a little alarming to you that with such small physical contact with him could make you think about it seriously.
There’s nothing to lose, you’re a woman after all and you have your needs.
He promised you one night, no strings attached, and apparently he’s really good and he knows what he’s doing.
“Don’t you think you deserve to have at least one night of mind blowing sex?” He grins and grazes the back of his hand against your cheek. “We’re flying back to Seoul tomorrow night, I’ll give you enough time to think, and maybe I can have your phone number or something, we could stay in contact and probably discuss things while keeping it on the low key.”
“Discuss?” You squint your eyes.
“Yeah, we could talk, tell me what you like and how you like it, you know, stuff like that.” He elaborates, you sigh and look him in the eyes. “What if we happen to like different things?”
“Then I’m willing to let go of the things that I like just for your sake.” He crosses his fingers. “I’m a good boy I promise.”
“Fine.” You can’t believe yourself. You take your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to add him to your contacts, a satisfied smile lingers on his face and he even leans forward to print a kiss to your cheek. He’s totally buttering up his bread and he thinks he can get you to agree to this faster, but you’re smarter than him.
“You’re crossing the lines Taehyung.”
“Who cares about the damn lines, if we agree to this I’ll be kissing other things and you’ll want me to.” He opens the door to your room and walks out. “I’ll see you around.”
And indeed. After your one hour free time you all headed to the stadium for rehearsals, the concert was happening tomorrow but everyone needed orientation around the place.
During the entire day he never brought it up, neither look at you like he has been recently, he kept it professional with you in front of everyone and never spoke about it like it never happened.
You were scheduled to leave the stadium at around 11 in the evening, the girls decided on going out for dinner but you skipped, you had multiple coffees during your day and you don’t feel physically well, so you just head back to your hotel and take the elevator up to your room.
You gasp when you see him about to take the elevator and go down, you barely recognize him when he has a cap and a face mask on. “Oh, hey Y/N.” He so casually speaks.
“Hey, you’re going out?” Why did you even ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head. “No, I’m going downstairs to grab a bite from the buffet, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you going out?”
“I’m a little tired, I guess I’ll just go to sleep or something.” It feels like you’re talking to the Taehyung you’ve always known for the past years, nothing feels different so far.
He looks at the time on his wrist and looks back at you. “If you want to, I’ll grab something to eat quickly and come hang out with you, maybe we can talk about that thing.”
Yup, never mind.
“I think I’d rather sleep.” You walk out of the elevator and he walks in instead. “Come on, 10 minutes max, I won’t be late.”
You shouldn’t have asked him anything in the first place.
“You know, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you and I stayed alone in one room.”
“Don’t worry, we’re not going to spice things up, we’re just hanging out discussing things, like other colleagues do.” He presses the button on the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”
And the elevator door closes before you could even shoo him away for the evening. He’s just going to come up to your room later and you know he’ll force himself inside.
You click the key card to your room and immediately change to your pajamas, you even turn off the lights and hope he thinks you’re asleep by the time he knocks at your door.
Thankfully time passed by and he never knocked. But instead he went back to his room and decided to text you.
1:54 | KTH:
Couldn’t come by sorry
1:54 | KTH:
Are you still awake?
1:54 | KTH
Wanna come over to my room 😉
KTH sent a photo
KTH sent a video
Of course he can see your read receipts, he knows you’re awake and he even lured you further into the conversation by sending you a photo and a video that you rush to open.
He’s not exactly there in the photo, the picture is taken of his TV turned on and he’s under the blanket, you can only see his covered legs from above the blanket, nothing too special.
The video is what makes your ears buzz, you find yourself pressing your thighs closer to each other, when he palms what seems to be his erection from above the blanket, and holy fuck was he big or were you hallucinating. You turn the volume up and you can hear his breath changing with every stroke of his cock. He inserts his hand under the blanket and strokes his cock before flipping the camera to his face and smiling like nothing happened.
Luckily that video is on replay, so it keeps replaying on its own unless you swipe it away, you don’t know what possesses you, you put your phone down against the used coffee cup from earlier and pull your pants down, your hand travels down to your folds and you touch yourself, delivering circular continues rubs to your clit and teasing your entrance with your middle and ring finger.
You spit onto your fingers and move further down again to rub your clit faster this time, your shoulders tensing and your hand already growing tired. It always takes you so long to get to your edge and you need a stimulant more than just a stupid photo or a video. Your other hand moves to grab your breasts out of your top and you pinch your nipple and squeeze onto your flesh. “Mmm.” Your eyes are piercing through your phone screen but your stupid screen saver decides on locking your phone which makes you whine desperately. “Ugh.” You grab your phone and unlock it, of course the video is gone.
2:03 | KTH:
Like what you see?
Has it been 9 minutes already?
Your fingers rush to type on the screen.
2:03 | You:
🙄
2:04 | You:
Mister kim is spending a night alone how weird
2:04 | KTH:
Mister Kim?
2:04 | KTH:
You can keep calling me mister kim if you want to 😉
You bite onto your fingernails, wanting to send a risky text but you’re so unsure. Your fingers hover over the screen and you proceed to type, but quickly delete what you wrote.
2:05 | KTH:
Want me to send you more? Maybe you can send me some
And of course this is off the table, you’re not going to send him nudes not because you’re against sending them generally, but you’re against sending nudes to him. Your pictures may end up in a folder on his phone like any other woman.
2:06 | You:
Goodnight.
Taehyung has been dealing with women like you for years now, he can see and expect any behavior that you may project and this is one of these situations. You sending him goodnight didn’t quite literally mean goodnight. He knows you want this to happen but you’re still in denial and you don’t know that yourself.
So of course, without thinking twice, he opens the camera on his phone and this time pulls the blanket down a little just to reveal the tip of his cock that’s pressed against his stomach. He grabs the massage oil to pump some onto his long fingers and strokes his angry dick again.
The man has been with so many women that he built a stamina that no regular woman can take, he can go for hours and women even beg him to cum just so they can rest, he was animalistic and it was out of this world, hence women actually passing out when sleeping with him. Stroking his cock alone won’t get him to his end and he could easily calm his erection without having to cum, the self control on this man is incredible.
 He touches the red circle on his phone screen and starts filming, clearly teasing you and showing you only the tip, his cock all glistening from the massage oil. It was quiet around his hotel room, and the only thing that’s heard in the video is the sound of stroking heard clearly when it’s this slippery, and the sounds he was unbelievably good at faking, little whimpers and moans, his breath hitching and even swear words escaping his lips. “Fuck.. Mm, Y/N, this is all for you.”
The video was sent to you, and you don’t hesitate to open it, this time actually positioning yourself on the bed and grabbing out one of the thickest makeup brushes you have on hand, wetting it with your mouth and slowly teasing your entrance before pushing it inside. The video starts and your fingers abruptly move to turn up the volume. Your body instantly heats up and reacts upon the sounds you hear, and holy fuck you can clearly see the tip, and it looks fucking edible at this moment.
You cannot believe this is happening and you feel your face even heating up, is it embarrassment? You can’t tell, it may be embarrassment but hey you’re not the one sending nudes he is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Well except the fact that you’re masturbating to a video of him.
You hear your name and in a click of a button, your stomach tightens and your back arches, your hand moves faster to insert the back of the makeup brush further inside your thirsty pussy as you chase your orgasm. Even when the brush was cold and it practically didn’t feel like skin nor had the size of an actual dick but it was enough for you to let go.
Your chest heaves and your legs shut tightly around your hand and the video still plays on your phone that’s still nesting in your other hand, your eyes locked onto the screen afraid that you can’t see the same shot anymore when you swipe away.
The last bit of self control of you finally washes into your body and you swipe away, you can’t deny you immediately regret but you had to swipe away at some point.
2:35 | KTH:
I thought I’d hear u cum but I didn’t L
Your body stiffens and you immediately get up onto your feet, the makeup brush slips out of your vagina down onto the floor and you rush to see through the peephole and immediately cover your mouth with your hand when you see him standing there on his phone, leaned against your door and still texting you. Your hand that’s holding your phone is leaned against the door so with every text he send it vibrates and the entire door vibrates with it which makes him look at the peephole from his side.
And holy fuck at this point you’re terrified. Luckily your room is dark and he can’t see anything, but he knows you’re watching him. You rush to grab your pants and put them back on and get under your blanket. As if he’s going to open the door at any second and hurt you.
You shut your eyes tightly trying to avoid looking at your phone screen but you eventually do.
2:38 | KTH:
Sent you 9 messages.
The door to your room knocks and you actually gasp, covering your mouth again but the entire floor was so quiet and empty that if a needle fell everyone would hear it.
You get up onto your feet and put on a jacket to cover yourself even when your pajama wasn’t revealing at all, you just put your jacket on for protection. You look through the peephole one last time before you open up and he almost stumbles because he leaned his entire body weight against the door. “Hey, I thought you’d never open.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” You hug your jacket closer to your chest and cross your arms, “What’s up?” He asks with a smirk on his face as he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him, “So what did it feel like?”
“Hmm?” You open the mini fridge and grab water out for yourself to take a few sips. He chuckles and puts his hands into his pockets. “Y/N baby, I know your body more than you do. Your face has the afterglow and you’re not breathing regularly, and your lips are blood red. What did it feel like when you made yourself cum to the video?”
“Taehyung I—“
“What did you like the most? The sounds or your name actually being called when I’m jerking off to you?” He plops down on your bed and throws his phone down on the nightstand.
“I’m not breathing regularly because you’re over here past midnight spying on my door.” You sit across the room, maintaining a good amount of space between you two. “And please don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.”
He rolls his eyes and huffs. “We’re just chatting, trust me I’m not going to touch you if you don’t give me your consent I promise, besides I-- Hey, what’s that?”
His eyes land on the makeup brush that’s dropped down onto your floor, and the glistening tip is what caught his attention. “What do you mean, this is a makeup brush.” You rush to stand up and run towards it but he’s faster than you are, he picks it up from the floor and a smirk sits on his face, fuck he even grabs it closer to smell it and he knows what this smell is. But yours was sweeter and truly different from other smells.
“Would you look at that.” He scoffs. “A makeup brush? Really?”
“Stop.” You bite onto your own teeth and you approach him to snatch it away, but again he’s faster. He licks the tip of the brush once and smacks his tongue into his mouth before swallowing. “Mm.”
Your entire body freezes when you watch him savor it, he licks  the tip of the brush clean with his eyes closed, you thought your body would react to it but none, you’re standing there stiff right before him when he gets up onto his feet. He opens his eyelids and his gaze meets yours, his pair of tight sleepy eyes gazing right through yours. “You taste heavenly.” He grabs your hand and puts the brush into it before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. The second you hear  the auto lock on the door you drop down to your bed with the brush in your hand.
Trails of his saliva are visible on the end of it and you cannot help but pull it closer to your mouth and lick it after him. You’re fucked.
You wake up the morning after wishing you could forget what happened last night. You’re pretty sure you’re embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that you got caught. You didn’t want this to happen to begin with, how are you supposed to look at him when you have to spend the entire day with him?
You pack your handbag and hand it to the hotel staff, you’re going straight from the stadium to the airport so you had to be ready and they took your bag to load the bus with the rest of the luggage.
“I don’t get it, we left the hotel at the same time, he’s supposed to be here.” Mira whines. The entire staff was ready and he wasn’t there yet. “The sound check is in less than an hour—“
“We know the schedule Mira, please just Shush.” You woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you weren’t ready to hear any whining, “Yeah Mira. I’m here give yourself a break.” Taehyung walks from behind you and gets seated onto the chair. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Mira alone responds and proceeds to blow dry his hair while you take out your kit and completely ignore the man seated on the chair in front of you.
He’s trying to look at you sneakily but he’s keeping his promise, no one is going to know anything so he’s not going to be doing anything suspicious to the rest of the staff. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks politely.
“Me?” You point to yourself unsure if he’s talking to you, and he blinks his eyes in a “Yes.” Before speaking. “You weren’t feeling well when I saw you in the elevator last night.”
“Yeah, she didn’t join us for dinner, are you feeling well?” Leah asks while she’s working on Seokjin’s hair.
“Oh yes, I went to bed early and I’m doing well today.” You force a smile on your face and grab out the little bag that had all your makeup brushes.  That brush is the first thing you see when you open the tiny purse and it reminds you in case you forgot, that you were caught masturbation last night.
“You can start Y/N. I need to get a new bottle of hairspray from downstairs.” Mira puts her stuff down and walks away leaving you to work on Taehyung’s face.
“Can I ask you something?” He looks around before whispering and you answer him right away. “Nope.” Which makes him pout. You roll your eyes and start dabbing primer onto his face. “What do you want?”
“Did you really throw away the thing I got you?”
“Well, I’m planning to.” You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, he shrugs and whispers. “What you did yesterday would feel ten times better if you actually use the gift.”
“I don’t do butt stuff Taehyung.” You argue right away, still low enough for only you two to hear. He looks at you while squinting his eyes. “Who said anything about butt stuff?”
“You sent me a butt plug, don’t try and act oblivious, the gift didn’t send itself.” You grab his chin to throw his head back. “Silly, it wasn’t a butt plug, it was a vibrator.”
His face is right there you can easily slap him and make a scene, it’ll cost you your job but who cares.
“Don’t look  at me like that.” He scoffs. “Text me when you get home tonight I’ll show you how to use it.”
“I know how a vibrator works Taehyung thank you. Now would you stop moving I can’t blend the concealer well.” You try hard to change the topic, but the idiot grabs your purse of makeup brushes and takes out that brush and hands it to you. “Here, I think this one will do.”
Your gaze meets his for a couple seconds before he looks down at your lips and bites his own, totally imagining your lips swollen from all the kissing, the picture of you choking onto his dick that he drew in his head is now chasing him whenever he lays his eyes onto you.
Maybe you being mean to him made him actually want to have you more than before, you’re unlike them, other girls from your staff didn’t even think twice before hooking up with him. But you being a tough cookie made him ready to beg just to be with you even if it was just once.
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muzansfangs · 2 months
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His kink.
Starring: Satoru Gojo x f!reader; Suguru Geto x f!reader; Higuruma Hiromi x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal sex, use of pet names, threesome (Satoru x f!reader x Suguru), slight degradation kink, blindfolds, sense deprivation (sight), use of alcohol but everything is consensual, use of cigarettes, overstimulation, dom!Satoru, dom!Suguru, sub!reader, dom!Hiromi, spanking, roleplay, clothed sex, teacher and student roleplay (fictional), small age gap between Hiromi and the reader, use of collar, oral sex (Hiromi!receiving), semi-public sex, implied exhibitionism;
Plot: You would do anything for your man. Even crossing some lines, allowing him to have the full control over your body. The moment you tell him to show you his kink, you watch in awe as his face lights up in delight and your body becomes a canvas for him to paint. Are you ready for him?
PART ONE | PART TWO.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Satoru Gojo.
Threesome and sense deprivation.
It was supposed to be a simple date night with Satoru. Yet, the moment you saw Suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend, lighting up a cigarette on the balcony of Satoru’s flat, while the two men were allegedly involved in a convivial conversation, you knew it was time to explore that taboo in your relationship.
Your boyfriend’s ice-blue eyes locked with yours, a faint smile gracing his lips as he silently invited you to join them. Heart thumping hard into your chest, you did and accepted the flûte of champagne Satoru pressed in your hand. There was something different in the air that night, something electrifying in the way your boyfriend did not mind his best friend’s hand indulging on the small of your back, lips grazing the shell of your ear hazardously to whisper a silly joke to you. It was inevitable.
Hands curling around the edge of the railing, you arched your back as Satoru’s hands cupped your hips. His hot breath fanning your jawline, crotch pressing up against your ass, he eventually decided to speak out “Do you like him?” he whispered, nosing your cheek as you fluttered your eyes closed.
Suguru was a good-looking guy, hilarious as well, respectful towards you. Declaring you did not like him at all would have been a plain heresy, indeed. For someone like you, who valued honesty and trust above anything else in a relationship, lying about such things would have been the equivalent of defiling the pure bond you had with your boyfriend.
“Not as much as I like you. But I do” you admitted, head lolling back to rest onto his shoulder to peer up at a clearly excited Satoru.
The wolfish grin plastered over his face was enough to make your heart sink into your chest, the taste of the forbidden fruit only a step away from meeting your tastebuds. You had already talked about the possibility of involving Suguru into your sinful activities. Opening the door of your bedroom to him, your boyfriend’s best friend, someone you even liked and enjoyed the company of, did not sound that bad. Satoru wanted this. He was pretty clear about it, bringing up the topic whenever he had the chance to, going to the extent of not even restraining himself from whispering in your ear, balls deep into you, how much Suguru would have loved to feel your tight walls squeezing up his member. Or how much he would have loved to see you struggle to take his friend’s cock into you.
He had no shame, but who were you to chastise him?
“You know I am right here, right?” Suguru’s voice pierced your ears, making both of you crane your heads to glance at the raven-haired man putting out a cigarette on the ashtray settled on the coffee table.
“What a scandal. Are you offended, perhaps?” Satoru cooed, wriggling his eyebrows up as he gave you a gentle squeeze on your side to prompt you to walk back inside.
Suguru did not reply. You felt their gazes on you, boring holes on your backside and nape, almost stripping you of your clothes with their hungry eyes. Shivers ran down your spine, your feet leading you down the corridor and towards the bedroom, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor behind you. Stray dogs stalking a rabbit, Satoru and Suguru could barely restrain themselves from ripping your clothes off of your body and feast on you disrespectfully.
You knew exactly what to do. Satoru had made sure to instruct you ahead of time, seething with impatience for the day he could finally share you with Suguru.
Kicking your heels off of your feet, you stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes closed as a pair of strong hands engulfed your waist. That smell, that cologne were unmistakable. Peppermint and tobacco, definitely not Satoru. Your back leaned against the sculpted frame pressed against your spine, your neck craned as you peered up at a Suguru and his nihilistic smile.
“Ah, don’t look at me like that. I won’t be able to screw you up, if you give those eyes” Suguru chided you in the same exact moment that Satoru’s hand grasped your jaw and forced you to lock eyes with him.
His lips captured yours, sloppily, hungrily, his fingers skimming up your midriff before groaning softly against your mouth “Allow me to blindfold you, darling. I don’t want my friend here to feel remorse for having ruined a cute, little princess. He’s better at fucking whores. Won’t you be a whore for us, baby?” he crooned, earning a soft hum from you.
Before you knew it, your sight was gone. A silky black fabric pressed over your eyelids prevented you from seeing them. You were naked, scandalous moans erupting from your throat, as they thrusted into you aggressively. Your mouth kept on meeting Satoru’s one, sweet and tender exchanges of love and promises between you two, as he thrusted his hips upwards. He was hitting the perfect spot, making your thighs quiver as you held onto him for dear life.
But if your boyfriend whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the words coming out of Suguru’s mouth made your cheeks boil in embarrassment.
“Look at that. What a slutty bunny you got yourself. Two cocks inside and she still takes them as a champ” Suguru breathed out, groaning as he bottomed out.
Pleasure and pain mingled into you, as he abused your puckered hole. Arching your back, you could perfectly feel his rock hard abs brushing against your skin. His huge hands, calloused and strong, held you into place and prevented you from jolting forward more than it was necessary.
Unable to mutter something more than whimpers and whines, you let your orgasm wash over you, mouth agape as they dragged you down to join the haunts of Hell.
Suguru Geto.
Roleplay and clothed sex.
You had no idea your boyfriend was into roleplaying. Not until he saw you dressed up as a promiscuous nurse during the Halloween party Shoko had hosted last year and he had proceeded in rearranging your insides in her bathroom. From that day on, it was not unusual for him to ask you to dress up as various characters to feed his most depraved fantasies.
Cat woman and Batman, a mermaid and a pirate, the bunny and the wolf, the devoted nun and the devious priest. You had literally tried on every single costume you could think of. Or so you thought.
Pressing your thighs together, holding a chemistry book to your chest, you could not believe you had agreed to give a shot to the pornographic cliché everybody knew about. The checkered skirt you were wearing barely reached your buttocks, exalting your curves and revealing the virginal white thigh highs you loathed with every melocule of your body. Playing the part of the innocent student for the not-so-professional version of a professor, masterly played by Suguru, was turning out to be both intriguing and exhausting.
“You disappointed me, darling. — your boyfriend sauntered towards his desk, much to your dismay overlooking the balcony — Chatting with your friend during my class. That’s downright outrageous” he casually said, slender fingers gliding down the polished surface of the desk.
Hypnotized, your eyes drank in the way his fingers curled around the edge of the bureau, wanting nothing more than to feel them buried deep into you. He always had you in a chokehold, whatever he did or said. In the palm of his hand, you now proceeded to swallow your pride and portray your own part to please him.
“It won’t happen again, professor! I promise” you fretted, scurring towards him with doe pleading eyes begging him to be indulgent.
“You have been disrespectful, dear. Spare your breath, though. Even if I decided to accept your apology and desisted from putting you on detention, your indecorous way of dressing leaves me no choice but to send you home” he retorted, his tone authoritative albeit you could see the signs of his arousal showing up.
The prominent tent in his pants was the proof he could not keep this up for too long.
And, honestly, you could not neither. Darting your eyes back on his face, you pursed your lips and zeroed the distance between you two. Settling your book onto the desk at your right, you shook your head and made sure to get his attention by clutching the fabric of his shirt into your hands, consequently creasing it.
“Please, don’t! My parents will kick me out for real this time! Professor Geto, I beg you, I cannot afford another suspension. There must be something I can do to make amend!” you bewailed, flaunting a secret talent in acting exactly like that girl from back in high-school.
Having despicable classmates, apparently, had played in your favor.
Suguru grinned, his mask cracking under your own hungry eyes. He had to admit you were a talented actress, indeed. But more than your words, there were other details about you that he was particularly interested in at the moment. Your inviting eyes, the way you were pathetically clinging onto him, your bare legs. As much as he loved seeing you like that, he wanted nothing more than bending you over the desk and split your walls apart.
“Is that so? You poor thing, maybe I’ve been too strict towards you. — Suguru mused, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, tapping steadily over the wooden surface with the pads of his fingers — You know, dear, I have just figured out a way to grant you the chance to make amend. Tell me, are you willing to do anything I ask of you?” he inquired, his almond brown eyes boring into yours as you eagerly nodded your head.
That was it. Before you could even blink your eyes, he had gripped your hips and spun you around. With your cheek pressed against the top of the desk, the edge sinking onto your hipbone rather painfully, you felt Suguru push a foot betwen yours and part your legs unceremoniously. You were mostly silent, except for the occasional gasps leaving your lips as he hiked your skirt up and gave generous squeezes to your ass.
He cussed, before his hand collided with your rear in a harsh spank, your body jolting forward for the impact. He knew you loved it, he knew the contrasting feeling of pain and pleasure meeting in a blurry line made you feral. Your cries only made him want to ruin you further and that is what he did, once he spotted the damp patch soaking your white panties.
“This will be our little secret, right, baby?” he huskily rasped out, the clinking sound of his belt unbuckled making you shudder.
“Yes, Suguru—” only for him to cut you off with another unforgiving spank, leaving you whimpering while his fingers tugged the fabric of your underwear to the side almost disrespectfully.
“Professor Geto” he hissed in your ear, one of his hand grasping the base of his cock to drag the tip up and down your slippery folds.
It was only the beginning of a rough session, your pussy clamping down onto him spasmodically, while your moans turned into notes to compose the perfect lewd melody you both loved to listen to. His thrusts were not gentle, but the way he made sure your hipbones did not get bruised by sliding his hands over them was affectionate.
“If only you put the same commitement I am seeing now into studying, you would not have to let your professor fuck you stupid now, is that not right?” he teased you, the hint of a laughter in his words as he went ahead. Apparently, he was still holding on tight into that roleplay shit.
The moment he reached his climax, his movements coming to an halt, he groaned through gritted teeth and bringing his lips close to your ear, he whispered a command he knew you would have followed unquestioningly “Go home and keep it all inside this slutty pussy. Keep it in your womb and I will give you more”.
And dear, how much you craved more of it.
Hiromi Higuruma.
Exhibitionism and use of collar.
Drool was running down your chin, the leather black collar fastened around your neck making you feel so vulnerable as you struggled to take all of him into your mouth. You did not have much space to move around too, hidden underneath the desk in a kneeling position. Your stressed out boyfriend had truly crossed the line this time and the worst part of it was that you always agreed in trying new experiences.
Under his lead, you helped him relax and release all of his pent up anger and frustration. Albeit there was a small power imbalance between you two, at least, in the bedsheets, you two worked together to bring out your worst and dark desires, reaching the apex of pleasure in such a delectable way that left you both satisfied in the end.
“A collar? Really? What am I to you, some kind of pet?” you had joked, quirking your eyebrow up as he was proceding in fastening the said accessory around your neck.
“You are far from being a pet, but I think you can use that tongue of yours to please me, instead of being sassy, my dear kitten” he replied in a casual tone, giving a playful tug to your collar. It suited you so perfectly. Honestly, he could not wait to ask you to wear it in the privacy of your bedroom.
As you shook your head and sighed, you pointed at the collar on your neck with a teasing expression on your face “Okay, I get it, but unless you want your colleagues to start gossiping about how indecent the best lawyer of the firm is, you have to unfasten it” you reminded him, winking at your boyfriend who was still contemplating the way the leather encircled your tender neck the same way his hand did during your rough session.
Yeah, those money he had spent on the collar had been definitely well-invested.
“Oh, please, I’m on my lunch break. No one’s going to annoy me for a while. Let me feel a perverse sense of power for ten minutes more, please” he implored you, dark coffee eyes boring into your landguidly, as he sat down onto his armchair.
You chuckled, standing between his spread legs tentalizingly, before sensually dropping to your knees “Well, in that case, let me purr for you” you suggested, hand reaching up for his belt and zip.
Skilful hands quickly getting rid of the clothes preventing your access to his dick, you finally pulled it out of his boxers. A few strokes and a deep grunt later, your mouth was wrapped around his cock, tongue teasing the tip to elicit those guttural and masculine moans Hiromi always let out around you.
His hand had fisted your hair, head lolling back on the head-rest, when someone knocked on the door. Your eyes went round, blood freezing in your veins as Hiromi’s grip on your hair almost made you wince out in pain. He glanced down at you, as you both realized it was too late to stop and you did your best to scoot more under the desk. He had to let that person in, there was no other choice but that.
“Come in” Hiromi said, after clearing his throat in discomfort.
As you heard his colleague walk in, you swallowed around him, causing Hiromi to let out a fake cough fit. It was not something you had done to tease him, you were actually paralyzed at the idea of being caught like that. But Hiromi was not having it. As you resumed your sucking and the man who had dared to interrupt his fellatio closed the door behind him on his way out, Hiromi hooked his fingers around the collar, pulling it tight against your neck.
You almost choked, as he groaned a tad louder “What was that? My pet has misbehaved, hasn’t she? Ah, I’ll gove this kitten something good to swallow for real this time” he sang out, the equivocal words sending chills down your spine as your little round played our smoothly.
At least, until Hiromi released down your throat without warning you. He had to admit you looked pretty like that, with drool and his sperm running down your chin as you coughed at his feet.
You were a good pet, after all.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! I have finally posted the part two of my project! I truly hope you are going to like this part as well and thank you so much for the love you are showing to my works! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
x o x o
TAGS: @pseudowho @brittscafe @doumadono @mrskokushibo @axesfordays @gyomeisfavoritespermcell
@marinnnnnnnnn @deegausserr
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spider-stark · 3 months
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INFINITELY YOU
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part one // back at the beginning
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 5.4k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //
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The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.  
It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.  
“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”  
God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.
Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”  
Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.  
With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.  
She was dead—Aunt May was dead.  
And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.  
“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”  
You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.  
But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.  
You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…  
Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.  
“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”  
He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this… 
Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.  
“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.  
“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?  
But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”  
You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…  
You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.  
And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her. 
She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.  
“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”  
It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.  
They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.  
And it still made you angry.  
“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.  
“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”  
He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.  
She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”  
Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.  
“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”  
Understand.  
If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.  
Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.  
You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.  
At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”  
“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”  
“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”  
Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.  
You weren’t used to this.  
Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.  
“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”  
It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.  
Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.  
You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.  
Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.  
The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.  
It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.  
You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…  
This was different, somehow.  
It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.  
It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.  
Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.  
But Peter wasn’t like other people.  
Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.  
His eyes couldn't lie, though.
Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.  
They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.  
“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.  
Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.  
His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.  
“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”  
You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”  
You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.  
Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?  
It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.  
It wouldn’t bring May back to life.  
“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”  
Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”  
You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.  
“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”  
You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.  
Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.  
Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.  
But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.  
“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”  
You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”  
He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.  
“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”  
“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.  
Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.  
“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”  
You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”  
“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”  
A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”  
He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”  
His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.  
You knew better than to think he meant it.  
But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.  
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You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.  
Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.  
But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.  
You were good at expressing anger, though.  
You were very good at expressing anger.  
After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.  
And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.  
By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.  
But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.  
There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.  
Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.  
The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.  
Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.  
It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.  
“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.  
The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.  
Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.  
Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”  
“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”  
You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.  
“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”  
You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”  
Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.  
“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.  
His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”  
His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.  
You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.  
The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.  
Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.  
And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”  
For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.  
“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”  
Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.  
Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.  
And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.  
“I will,” you promised.  
Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”  
You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.  
The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.  
“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”  
He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”  
The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”  
He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”  
“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”  
“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.  
“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”  
“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.  
You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”  
The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.  
“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”  
The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.  
“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”  
Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.  
You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.  
“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”  
“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”  
Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.  
“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”  
“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.  
Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”  
The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.  
“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.  
Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”  
He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.  
“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”  
Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.  
A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.  
Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.  
“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”  
You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”  
Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.  
“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”  
He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.  
“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.  
You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.
He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”  
You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.  
“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.  
There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.  
But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.  
Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”  
This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.  
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a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.
if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!
part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st
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antimony-medusa · 10 months
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Okay because I keep seeing these posts, I am just gonna cartwheel in here and say something.
It is not inappropriate to be attracted to real people.
Like, entirely setting aside the question of if you think a fantasy character block men is hot, if you are looking at the photos of a real streamer and you've got hearts in your eyes, I can't overemphasize how normal that is. You're good. Don't worry about it.
These people are funny, and they have good voices, and we watch them be entertaining for hours at a time. This is prime real estate for a little crush. And having a crush is fine, the question is about your behaviour once you have a crush.
I am seeing people thinking that having a crush on a streamer means they're dangerously parasocial, or somehow predatory, or abusive, and that ever breathing a word of it is basically sexual harassment. And like, no. Being attracted to real people is not weird. That's arguably less weird than being attracted to fictional characters. The only question is like, once you know that you want to smooch the real person, how do you then treat that person and the people around you?
Seeing a photo of a famous person and thinking "oh hell yeah I want to hold their hand": this is a celebrity crush. I am aroace and I've spent enough time in some people's streams that I start to go "oh man I wonder if they'd like if if we played D&D together" (medusa-flirting). This has happened to regular people looking at attractive famous people probably since someone in the cave man clan was a particularly good hunter and got praise for it. Thoughts in your head don't hurt people. This is fine.
Seeing clips of a famous person and having sexual thoughts about them: this is still a celebrity crush. Your average boring office worker does this with movie stars. Half the people on the bus are doing this with instagram influencers. Runnning a nice r-rated movie in your head is fine, and doesn't hurt anyone. Thoughts in your head still dont' hurt people. This is still fine.
Collecting photos of a famous person and going GOD they're hot to your friends where the famous person won't see it: still a celebrity crush. There is a standing joke in I don't know how many healthy relationships that your partner gets a certain amount of freebies where you could totally cheat if it's Idris Elba, because it's IDRIS ELBA, that's not cheating that's just sense. You can aknowlege someone's sexiness to your friends, and even joke about it, and you're not being predatory, and you're not being inappropriate. Desire is not a crime. People can publically talk about being attracted to a person, and as long as they're not making it that person's problem, they're fine. Having a "hot people" tag on your blog with careful photos gathered from someone's public instagram where they deliberately posted photos of themselves looking hot? I can't over emphasize how fine this is. If people don't want to see hot people on their dash I guess they can unfollow? But you're literally being totally appropriate still.
Getting a nice private group chat with friends who like to talk abouta famous person and talking about how you'd like to knock him up: Look, what else are group chats as adults for? Are you seeing a trend here? As long as you are keeping your attraction to yourself and not making it other people's problem, as long as you're not bothering the real person with it, as long as you aknowledge to yourself that this is never going to happen and this is just a fun fantasy, this is just like, how attraction works. See pretty person, talk about pretty person, have fun with the fictional imaginings you're having— as long as you're not forcing this imagining on someone else, making it their problem, trying to make it real, as long as you know the difference between fiction and real life, you're fine.
Going up to someone's chat and talking about their dick: This is where you cross the line.
Putting NSFW work in someone's fan art tag. Wearing a shirt with porn on it to a meet and greet. Untagging your fanfic so that people who want to read g-rated works about someone are confronted with e-rated works. Asking one of their friends about their relationship status and if they smell good. This is the bad stuff. Don't do THAT. Keep it away from the real person.
The problem is not the attraction, the problem is forcing the attraction on other people. Like, use your brain. There's a segment of attraction that you can put on main, and then there's a segment that you can put on main but you'd better be sure that the person you're talking about is not going to see it, and then there's a segment you should keep for the group chat, but that's just a very basic sliding scale of "how sexual am I being" correlated with "how private am I being about this". If you want to run a full on porn video in your head starring Wilbur Soot, you're not bothering other people with that, you're not being inappropriate. That becomes inappropriate if you are a) putting that in tags where people who don't want to see the porn video would see it b) talking to Wilbur Soot about it. Those are the boundaries. Wait also c) talking to Wilbur Soot's friends about it, don't do that either.
If the person you're attracted to is an adult famous person, like, people being attracted to them is just part of the landscape. I promise an adult celebrity is not sitting in their room being traumatized because people might be thinking about them romantically or sexually. Putting it up in their faces? Bad. Very bad. I hate it. Don't do it. But I see people freaking out about thoughts. Thoughts aren't real. They do not exist in the real world. You can do what you fuckin' want in your thoughts and you are not hurting people.
Like I know we don't want to be inappropriate with streamers, but that doesn't mean that any sexual or romantic thoughts about them are forbidden, or that mild "GOD he's cute" or picspams on main are hurting people, or that off in a closed group of fellow adult enthusiasts you can't be like "so I think streamer would be submissive if I was domming him" and everyone can be like "oh you'd dom him so well". As long as you're keeping it away from people who are bothered by it, you're fine.
Attraction to real people is normal and how attraction works. You're not hurting people if you think they're cute. You're not hurting people if you want to fuck them, either, as long as you're not making them interact with that desire. This is just a simple matter of keeping the higher-rated material away from the people involved.
Attraction to real people isn't inappropriate. You're fine.
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authorhjk1 · 8 months
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Interlude: Doctor appointment turns into bunny breeding sessions
( Kim Minji X Male Reader)
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You sigh as you look around the waiting room. It has been a couple of minutes now, since the two girls left. About to stand up, you suddenly see one of the doors open.
The woman in the doorframe makes your eyes widen. Who is she?
The Korean woman wears a black jacket and a pair of shorts. The shorts almost make it look like she isn't wearing anything to cover her core at all. Her black choker and leather boots complete the all black outfit. It looks like she is also wearing fishnets, which barely even reach her knees.
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"Ugh! I hate it here."
She slumps down on the chair on your left. Only now you realize she is also wearing a black top.
"How come?"
You decide to talk to her. This isn't an actual waiting room after all, which means she must live here. And that means, she is probably in on all this.
"The doctor is crap."
She doesn't even look at you as she blows a bubble with her gum.
"Which one?"
"The one with the pink hair."
She has her legs and arms crossed, while she sits next to you.
You frown. The two girls you met at the airport had brown and black hair. Whom is she talking about?
"What's your name?"
"Minji. Yours?"
"(Y/n)."
She offers you her fist and you give her a fist bump.
"Is something going on downtown?"
"What?"
You look at her in confusion.
"Is something wrong with your..."
She deliberately looks down at your crotch.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because the doctors here are specialized in that area."
Minji blows another bubble, letting it pop loudly.
"I see."
It's silent for a couple of moments, before she asks again.
"So? Something going on?"
You ponder if you should tell her. This is still fake. So maybe you will get something out of this. You eye her from the side. Her face looks like that of an angel, although she is currently going for the opposite persona. Her black top is low cut, which means you have no trouble enjoying the view. Because the lower part of her jacket is covering her shorts, it looks like she isn't wearing any pants. Her long, creamy legs are on display.
"I produce too much.... You know?"
You glance at her face as she looks at you.
"I see."
She nods while blowing another bubble.
"And you?"
She shrugs her shoulder.
"I have this kink. Although the doctor says it's an addiction."
She scoffs, before shaking her head.
"What kind?"
You might have sounded a little too curious.
Minji ignores your question as she suddenly looks around.
"Hey, can you make sure no one comes in?"
A little surprised, you nod, before seeing Minji leaving her seat. She walks towards the "counter" before leaning over it. Her jacket rides up as she reaches for something. Her tight black shorts hug her butt perfectly, giving it a perfect shape.
But your eyes are quickly caught by something else. Black ink is decorating her left thigh, right above the back of her knee. The tattoo seems to be made out of three small butterflies.
Once she found it, she turns around, holding up her phone.
"Those idiots took it away from me. They said, I can't stop reading this stuff, but they are just overreacting."
"What kind of stuff?"
You watch Minji walking back to her seat next to you.
"I keep reading fan fiction about me. I'm a rock star, you know?"
"Oh, really?"
"Surprising, right? A sweet girl like me?"
She wiggles her eyebrows mockingly, before turning her phone on.
"And what kind of fan fiction?"
"I found this amazing story on Wattpad least year. The author's name was something with HJK? I dunno. But it was deleted. Luckily, I took a few screenshots."
"And what is it about?"
Minji winks at you.
"It's about how I get my back blown out by the reader."
You don't know how to respond to that. You are glad she keeps talking.
"I'm supposed to have a throat fuck kink, according to the story."
"And is that true?"
You are surprised at how freely she talks about this.
"Well, yeah. I like it. But that's not my favorite thing."
You see her opening her Tumblr account "timetobreedminji". After seeing her username, you are already able to guess, what her favorite thing is. Still you ask her, wanting to hear it from Minji in person.
"And what is your favorite thing?"
The Korean girl looks up from her phone to look at you. Her eyes are big and dark.
"Beeing bred."
Her eyes suddenly become a little darker as if you just triggered something in her.
"The doctors try to convince me, that I'm delusional, but that's not true. Do you know, why my fans call me bunny or rabbit?"
You shake your head. You expected another kind of name for a rock star, but you are in Korea after all.
"Because they all want to breed me."
"Really?"
You don't sound as surprised as you thought you would. Minji nods her head.
"The doctors told me, I'm fertile as hell. Perfect for breeding."
Her phone is lying forgotten on the seat next to her. Glancing at it, you read the title of the post, which she is currently reading. "Doctor's appointment turns into bunny breeding session"
(Author's note: "What the...??")
Minji looks around the room, before sighing heavily.
"Do you know how long it has been, since someone tried to breed me?"
You shake your head.
"About a week ago. I feel so empty."
By now, your dick in your pants is already hard. Forget about Yoohyeon and SuA. You have to fuck Minji first.
"Wait a minute."
She scans you up and down.
"You said your balls are producing too much cum, right?"
You nod your head hesitantly. Minji makes this roleplay stuff feel very real.
"Isn't that great for breeding?"
You should have known this question would come eventually.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the more you cum in me, the higher the chance you breed me properly."
"But I have an appointment soon."
Minji rolls her eyes in annoyance. Her rock star persona shining through.
"I don't give a fuck. Those doctors are dumb anyways. Wouldn't it help us both?"
You think about it for a moment. She is not wrong.
"You would lose some of that cum of yours and I can be your breeding bunny. That's a win-win."
"I don't see the harm in that."
As soon as you agree, Minji straddles your lap.
"Finally I'm gonna get some cum in my belly."
She whispers, before kissing your lips.
You hold onto her thighs to steady her on top of you. Her soft, creamy skin feels smooth underneath your palm.
Minji grinds on you, rubbing her center against your own. She can feel your hard cock in your pants, which makes her even wetter. As she imagines, how you would cum in her, you start to attack the flawless skin on her neck.
You immediately realize, that Minji only has one goal in mind. She already starts to undo your belt. Having sex is just a way to get what she wants. It's just a means to an end. You wonder if that's the role she is playing, or if that's actually her.
You lift your hips as you feel Minji pull off your pants and your underwear in one go.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to suck you off."
The Korean girl's breathing becomes faster as she reaches for your cock.
"I just need your cum in me. As soon as possible."
She let's some spit fall out of her mouth and onto your dick. Her hand makes sure that it's all wet. Still a little surprised at her speed, you are only able to watch as she lifts her hips.
"Get them off me. Please."
She sighs, while waiting for you to pull her pants down as well. The black fabric is tighter around her body as you expected. It takes a second to peel her shorts off of her. She isn't wearing panties, only a small stripe of hair decorates her lower region.
"Put it in already."
Her demands turn into whines as she waits for you to act. You guide her hips towards you, while Minji points your cock at her entrance. As she sinks onto you, you feel her snatch taking in your dick. Minji's walls have a tight grip on you as she lowers herself further.
"If I knew you were so big, I would've taken my time with it."
She sighs as you run your hands along the smooth skin of her thighs.
"I wish I could've felt these around my head."
You tease her as you squeeze her thighs slightly.
Minji sighs heavily, already stuffed with half of your cock. She leans forward, pressing her clothed chest into your face. You feel her hard nipples graze your cheeks as Minji takes a fistful of your hair.
"I'm such a needy bunny, I know."
She pushes your head further into her chest, while she slowly starts to ride you. When she Minji sinks down on you fully, her face is on level with yours. When she moves upwards, she presses your head into her chest. You take every opportunity to kiss her skin as you feel her pussy around your cock. You can feel Minji relaxing and contracting her muscles with the rhythm of her movements. She really does try her best to make you cum as fast as possible.
You wonder, how long you can hold out, not wanting to see this end too soon. You reach behind her to take handfuls of her cheeks. Minji moans into your mouth.
"Just use me, until you cum."
Before you can answer, you are faced with her black top again. When Minji sinks back onto your cock, she throws her head back, letting her hair look like a waterfall behind her.
You start to take control of her bounces, making her go a little faster. Much to her enjoyment it seems as Minji releases moan after moan.
"Make me ride your cock, baby."
Her walls squeeze you tighter, her pussy desperate to milk you dry.
"Fuck, Minji I-"
"Yes! Yes! Cum in me!"
She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You squeeze her ass harder, trying to hold on a second longer as you practically pull her onto your cock, before pushing her off again.
"Breed me! Breed this little bunny!"
You feel pain on your scalp. The result of Minji trying to hold onto her own high, wanting to climax when you cum as well.  It makes your head roll back too as you try to ease the pain.
"Give it to me! Breed me!"
"Fuck."
You moan as you finally unload inside of Minji. You hold her down, her pussy sealed around your cock tightly. The young woman shakes slightly on top of you as she feels her orgasm washing over her, while your cum floods her insides.
You open your eyes, when you finally come down from your high. Minji's chin rests on your shoulder as she tries to catch her breath. This was quite short. And yet, really good. It's evident that she has some experience. You feel your cock still inside of her as Minji slowly rolls her hips.
"Do you think you can give me a another load? Just to make sure you are breeding me properly?"
You could have said no. Maybe you even should have, knowing that the other two girls are waiting for you. And yet, you can't help yourself.
You wrap your arms around her, trapping Minji against your body. The two of you stay connected as you stand up. Although Minji is small and light it's still hard not to trip. You carry her to the kitchen counter as you feel her lips on your neck.
"Drown my pussy in cum, baby."
She whispers into your ear as you sit her down on the counter. She unlocks her legs behind you, enabling you to take them into your hands.
Minji lies down, her back pressed against the cold surface. She can feel it underneath her jacket. She is still wearing her boots and fishnets as you put her ankles onto your shoulders. You have a great view of Minji's pussy as you let your hands glide along her legs. Your fingers dance over the dark butterflies on her skin, until they reach her waist.
You see the young woman nodding. Her gaze a mixture of excitement and need.
Slightly pressing down on her belly, you almost pull out completely.
Pushing back inside, you hear her pussy making wet sounds. You push your cum further into Minji as you start to rock her world on top of her own kitchen counter.
"Oh fuck! So much cum!"
She feels your warm cum inside of her as you fuck her hard.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Minji arches her back off the stone surface. You hold onto her thighs, feeling one of her ankles slowly slip off your shoulder. The young Korean seems to interpret your actions differently.
"Yes! Put me in a mating press! Breed me!"
She moans loudly, almost shouting. You pull her further towards you, making her ass leave the surface. Leaning over her, you push Minji's legs towards her body. You start to fold her in half. Her boots reach her head and she holds onto her own ankles. You place your hands on the back of her thighs, one directly on her tattoo.
Her pleading face makes you fuck her harder. Now you are slightly above her, hitting even deeper spots.
"Fuck yes! Push your cum further!"
Minji mewls as you keep pounding her. You feel your muscles slowy getting tired as you use all your strength to push into Minji. She looks so sexy like that. Lying on her back, her ankles in her hands, unable to do anything but take your pounding.
Your thumb grazes over her butterflies. You are not a fan of permanent tattoos on women, but fake ones like these are very sexy. This one is quite small, but seductive. You wonder how Ahin would look wih a tattoo. Maybe on her back? A big one?
You lose your thoughts as Minji's pussy brings you back to reality. It squeezes your cock tightly, trying to drain you again. You feel your orgasm approaching as you fuck Minji into the counter.
"Gonna cum!"
You are surprised she cums so early, you expected her to orgasm with you again. She reaches around her anke with her left hand, covering her mouth with her hand.
Minji's head rocks back and forth along with her body as you drive her towards her orgasm.
"Fuck!"
Her scream is muffled, yet audible. Her body shakes, a little harder than the first time, as Minji cums around your cock again. It makes her pussy tighter, bringing you closer towards the edge as well.
"Fuck, Minji. I'm gonna cum in you."
"Yes!"
Her hand has left her mouth as she nods her head vigorously.
"Fill me up again! Breed my little bunny pussy! Give me baby bunnies!"
Not the usual choice of words, when someone begs you to cum in them, but Minji makes it sound somewhat alluring.
You grip harder onto her thighs as you push her legs further towards her. She is one flexible woman, taking your pounding in this position with ease.
"Fuck!"
You hiss as you unload a second time in Minji's pussy.
"Yes! Fill my womb! Cum in me!"
Her hole holds onto you tightly as you shoot rope after rope of cum into her freshly fucked pussy.
"So warm."
Minji sighs as she feels your cum inside of her. You lean over her, pressing her legs against her torso.
"I hope you stay addicted to this. I would love to breed you again."
Minji chuckles, wrapping her hands around your neck, pulling you closer.
"Wait for me after your appointment. And don't waste too much cum on them. They don't know how to appreciate it."
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