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#he's open for friends or enemies i guess
potionboy3 · 9 months
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character profile
► basics:
Full name: Alexej Emil Kavinsky (born Vogel)
Meaning of name: Alexej means “defending men”, “defender of men”, “defender of the people” or “protector of men”. Emil means "to strive", "excel", "rival", "eager"
Nickname: Lexi, Alex
Pronouns: He/him
Sexual Orientation: Gay
Nationality: German father, from mother's side Chzech and possibly Russian.
Birth date: December 16th, 1892
Zodiac sign: Sagittarius A December 16 Sagittarius is extraordinary. They have a disciplined nature and can live on little, as long as they can express their inner fire. Blessed with an artistic temperament, they understand that success equals creative accomplishment, not money. They have much wisdom.
Age: 22 when the war starts
► Physical appearance:
Faceclaim: Tom Schilling
Height: 168cm
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour: Brown
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► Personality:
Positive traits: hardworking, brave, thoughtful, determined, realistic, artistic
Negative traits: private, irritable, selfish, panicky, grumpy, indecisive, judgy, demanding
Personality type: ISFJ
Character’s greatest joy in life: getting to make his own decisions
Fears: his fathers opinions, the horrible things he has done in his past, losing loved ones.
Why?
Alexej has a difficult relationship with his father who does not approve his choices and sees him weak.
Alexej had to do a lot of bad things to survive while being part of AM and TOWER. His past haunts him.
Alexej lost his best friend and he doesn't want to lose anyone that important again.
Priorities: himself, his friends
Character’s soft spot: Fiete, Lunas, Kateryna & Klara, Sydney, Knusper, Ione
Is this soft spot obvious to others? It's not obvious at all and Sydney is the only one to see through him. (Well Knusper might.)
Greatest vulnerability or weakness: He thinks it's using his heart and not his head. But really his weakness is his own fear and anxiety. For the longest of time he did as he was told out of fear and later he still panics easily.
Biggest regret: Joining the anti-muggle group AM
Secrets of the character: He was in love with Fiete
Does anyone else know? Kateryna and Klara might guess it, as well as his father.
Drives and motivations: Future where he doesn't need to follow anyone's orders.
► Past
Hometown: Berlin, Germany
Type of childhood: Alexej's mother died when he was born. His father was strict and raised him to respect his values rather than finding his own ones. He had a mongrel dog before starting school, whom he loved very much. His father was wealthy so he got used to having luxurious things around him. From early on Alexej was raised to despise the muggle-community and he didn't see muggleborns as part of the Wizarding community. Religion: Not religious
Dream job: Artist ► Present Current location: Germany, then France during the war Currently living with: Lived in the base of the AM movement, later goes to France and joins the dark wizard alliance called TOWER and lives in their base.
Pets: He bonds with a wild wolf with a broken leg during the war. The wolf becomes his companion. He names him Knusper. *Author's note, thank you @cursed-herbalist for naming this little bastard!*
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Occupation: Worked for German Ministry of Magic as an auror but was secretly part of the AM movement. During the start of the war Alexej was part of the German Army still working for the Ministry and AM. After leaving AM he joined TOWER and worked with them in hopes of helping Lunas Avery out of the movement's control. After leaving TOWER Alexej was hired by the British Ministry of Magic because of his knowledge and actions against TOWER. After the war he cut his connections to the Ministry and started a career as a freelance artist.
► Magical info
Blood Status: Pureblood
Education: Durmstrang
Wand: Holly wood with a dragon heartstring core, 10 ¾ and unbending flexibility
Holly is one of the rarer kinds of wand woods; traditionally considered protective, it works most happily for those who may need help overcoming a tendency to anger and impetuosity. At the same time, holly wands often choose owners who are engaged in some dangerous and often spiritual quest. Holly is one of those woods that varies most dramatically in performance depending on the wand core Patronus: Mongler dog
Just like a wizard doesn’t have to be a pure-blood to be great, a dog doesn’t have to a purebred to be your best friend. While a mongrel’s ancestry might be a mystery, they tend to be intelligent, energetic, and good-natured. Your mongrel dog Patronus will be loyal and friendly toward you but fierce against any Dementor that seeks to harm you. Their scrappy nature makes them a perfect partner in any situation. *Author's note, I find this patronus so ironic but fitting!* Patronus Memory: Spending time with his friends in Durmstrang and having fun. Boggart: Fiete dying but the person killing him is Alexej himself. Specialized/Favourite Spells: Alexej is talented in memory spells and quick to disarm his enemy. He is really bad with cleaning spells. Favourite subject in school: charms and divination
► Family Father: Anton Vogel Face claim: Oliver Masucci
Relationship with him: As a child Alexej wanted to please his father and followed his orders and wishes. During his Durmstrang years Anton didn't think his son was strong enough and wasn't pleased with the close friendship he had with Fiete. He started to see Alexej as a weak link which the teenager desperately wanted to prove wrong.
Anton wasn't a very strict or serious father but rather bantered with his son and complimented his success if he saw such. Alexej liked spending time with his father despite wanting to prove himself worthy and the two were close in his youth. After graduating, Alexej joined the AM movement that worked in Germany under Grindelwald's alliance. His father was secret supporter of the movement but being a politician he had to ensure that his name stayed out of it, so Alexej started using his mother's last name. After Alexej killed Anton's friend Adalmar Nachtnebel in 1916, he didn't contact his father until the end of the year. His father was pleased that Alexej had joined TOWER but later found out that he didn't actually value this alliance either. Anton was disappointed and Alexej didn't contact his father after the war. Later Anton became the German Minister for Magic but claimed that his son had died during the war.
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► Love interests
Sydney Barlow @gaygryffindorgal Face claim: Rami Malek
Relationship with him: Alexej saves Sydney's life by shooting Nachtnebel instead of executing Sydney when he was told to. Alexej lets him go, leaving him with Nachtnebel's wand. The two meet again in a small town while Sydney is looking for his company and Alexej is on a run. The two spend time together and get to know each other a little but eventually Alexej leaves for his own adventures. They later meet again and Sydney gets his chance to save Alexej's life when Alexej gets shot. to be continued...
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► Enemies
His father, Adalmar Nachtnebel, Ren Godfrey and the whole of TOWER, The whole of AM, Grindelwald's Allience, and some of the students of Durmstang. Adalmar Nachtnebel: Nachtnebel was a member of the AM and Alexej's father's good friend. Nachtnebel put a lot of pressure on Alexej and tried to shape him into a ruthless soldier. Alexej never liked him and after he was forced into crimes against the muggle community under Nachtnebel's command, he started to resent him. When Sydney Barlow escaped from the AM base after being taken there as a prisoner, Nachtnebel commanded Alexej to shoot him after the two found him from a near by forest. Alexej chose to shoot him instead.
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Ren Godfrey: Alexej joined TOWER (Transnational Order of Wizards Exposure Rights) after leaving AM. Ren Godfrey was one of the founding members of the said group of dark wizards. Alexej claimed to be loyal to TOWER but he actually joined because of Lunas Avery. His real goal was to get Lunas out of the blackmailing situation he had going on with Ren. Eventually Ren finds out the truth about Alexejs true alliance but he has more anger towards Lunas than Alexej.
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*Author's note, @cursed-herbalist, this beautiful smarty-pants also named both AM and TOWER when I've been struggling with both. so all the love and respect and my undying gratitude*
► Favourites
Colour: gray
Food: likes to test different type of cocktails
Literature: Reads a lot and in different languages. He likes historical fiction.
Most loved possession: his mothers old ring. ► Habits Spending habits: Alexej is used to luxury but later becomes more strict with money. Smokes: Yes a lot Drinks: That too Other drugs: Not regularly What does he do too much of? smoking, shaking Sydney's hand
What does he do too little of? relaxing
Extremely skilled at: art, making drinks, learning languages
Extremely unskilled at: talking about his feelings, hugs and public affection
►Traits
How he feels about himself: As a teenager he feels proud and above everyone else but it starts to change as he grows up. He's not much for self pity but he does get angry at himself.
How do other people perceive him: entitled and annoying, violent, problematic, or fascinating and talented
Style:
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► Relationships with others
Does the character hide his true opinions and emotions from others? Alexej is hard to read and people often don't know if he's joking or not. His loyalties are often a mystery.
Person character most hates: Adalmar Nacthnebel
Best friend(s): Fiete Tegeler, Lunas Avery, Kateryna Von Engelhardt and Klara Belikova
Friends: Ione Avery, Ares Gaunt, Zedric Faust, Colm O'Shea, Linus Sullivan, Maritza Krum, Cayetana Narváez
Fiete Tegeler, Klara Belikova @gaygryffindorgal & Kateryna Von Engelhardt @cursebreakerfarrier:
During his studies in Durmstrang, Alexej was close friends with Klara, Kateryna and Fiete. Klara, Kateryna and Alexej all came from similar backgrounds and shared the same type of values. Fiete was different, being a half blood and coming from a less wealthy background. He didn't have strong opinions against muggleborns and he was much kinder than Alexej. Still he became his closest friend who he secretly developed feelings for. The three would often claim that Fiete was a pureblood to avoid controversy among other students. This bothered Fiete, but loving his friends he let them keep their perfect picture. The group would often pair up during balls and they spent holiday breaks together being practically inseparable.
During his seventh year Alexej managed to gain few enemies in school after sharing information he was not suppose to. This lead to the boys attacking him and Fiete while the girls watched trying to stop it from happening. The fight ended with Fiete's death. After his passing away it was hard for the group to spend time together as just a trio and it took a long time for them to get close again. Faceclaims: Max Schimmelpfennig, Alicia Agneson, Alina Kovalenko
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*Authors note, thank you @gaygryffindorgal for choosing my fiete and loving him*
Lunas Avery @cursed-herbalist:
Alexej meets Lunas when he's posing undercover as an auror to snoop details of the ministry's agenda for the war. They became good friends and Lunas is a big reason why Alexej starts to question his beliefs. Eventually Lunas finds out his true intentions and Alexej has to flee and go back to his AM group. After Alexej leaves the allience he decides to find Lunas again and because of this he ends up joining TOWER. His true intentions are to help Lunas and possibly gain pardon by doing so.
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Ione Avery @cursed-herbalist:
Ione and Alexej became friends when Ione was visiting Lunas in Berlin. They have similar struggles and get along well. They have a playful sibling like relationship. He wants to protect her.
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Ares Gaunt @gaygryffindorgal:
Ares worked for TOWER at the same time Alexej was there. They had few missions together and Alexej admired Ares's way of handling the situation which was different from the other members of the group. Alexej wasn't aware that Ares was actually an auror working for the ministry.
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Zedric Faust: Zedric and Alexej went to Durmstrang at the same time but they were not friends. Alexej thought that Zedric was annoying. Though he was polite to Zedric, he called him Kartoffel (potato) behind his back. After graduating Zedric and Alexej both joined AM and were often paired up together from Zedric's request. Usually Alexej did all the work while Zedric took the credit. After the war Alexej ended up defending Zedric and telling the truth about him not taking much part on the actual things that AM did and being more talk than action. While he never liked Zedric, he didn't feel that the man deserved the worst kind of sentence. The two found mutual respect for each other for surviving their youth and became actual friends.
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Colm O'Shea @unfortunate-arrow Alexej got to know Colm through his friend Ione. The two were also in the same company. After the war Alexej stayed good friends with the couple. Alexej was a regular guest to their house.
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Linus Sullivan @unfortunate-arrow Linus and Sydney were friends during the war and shared the same company that Alexej was in. He got to know Linus after getting closer with Sydney and the two stayed friends.
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Maritza Krum Alexej and Maritza attended Durmstrang at the same time but were not friends. He met her again through his connections with the British Ministry while she was working for the French Ministry of Magic. Later he got to know her also as Linus's wife.
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Cayetana Narváez @endlessly-cursed Cayetana and Alexej met because of her connection to Lunas and later became friendly. *more to be added*
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Andrey Belikov @gaygryffindorgal Alexej and Andrey knew each other through Klara and once spent a night together though neither remembers that much of the occasion. The two stayed friends.
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Anthony Vallen @kathrynalicemc
Andy was the scientist who was investigating the TOWER guns that Alexej,Lunas, Kit and Ares were sent to find during his time working for the British Ministry of Magic. He later also knew Andy through his relationship to Andrey Belikov.
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Person character goes to for advice: Kateryna, Klara or Lunas Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Fiete during school, later he wants to help Lunas when he's being blackmailed by Ren Godfrey. He also wants to protect Ione after befriending her.
Person character feels shy or awkward around: People who flirt with him or who he finds extremely attractive. He's the type of person that when you're having a romantic moment, he will chicken out and insult you instead.
Person character openly admires: Lunas, Ares
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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you��re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
1K notes · View notes
utahimeow · 2 months
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“kenma?”
“hmm?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.
“who was your first kiss?”
it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.
“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.
“ever?”
“ever.”
“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.
“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.
you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.
there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.
“what if i was your first kiss?”
kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.
“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.
“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.
the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.
eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”
your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.
“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.
“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”
“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”
kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.
“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”
oh.
now you get it.
kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.
instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.
you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.
“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”
you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”
two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.
“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.
“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.
“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.
“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”
and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.
you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.
also, you’re tipsy.
it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?
you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.
the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.
eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.
you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.
“yeah, we can.”
2K notes · View notes
clbrq · 5 months
Text
I HATE YOU— C. BROCK.
prompt; you and colby have never gotten along. you always bickered and never saw eye to eye. so, when your friendship group plans a trip that he’s invited to—you make it your life’s purpose to keep as far away from him as possible. although, that plan does down the drain when you have to share a room for 2 weeks..
warnings; SMUT, p in v sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of angst and arguing, cursing/swearing, enemies to lovers trope.
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“Oh, how fucking great.”
The words fell past his lips faster than your brain could compute what the flight attendant was telling you.
A loud sigh fell past your lips as you thanked her and continued walking to your seat. Colby was slow to follow.
It was bad enough that you were going on a group trip together, let alone having to sit next to each other on a five hour flight. You knew he was in a bad mood regardless due to his lack of sleep, and you knew your presence wasn’t making it any better.
You and Colby have never got along. You don’t know when it started, but you’ve never connected. At the start, you wouldn’t engage much and just stay out of each others way. But now, you fought, a lot. Your friends loved to compare you to a married couple—that really pissed you two off. You don’t really have a reason as to why you dislike Colby so much, you just do. Something about him just irritates you—whether it’s his ridiculous hair, or whining about not having a girlfriend, or how stupid rich he was. And you weren’t sure why Colby didn’t like you, but you didn’t care—the feelings were mutual.
So, when your best friend, Katrina, floated the idea of a group trip a few months ago, you were sparked with excitement. Until you realised Colby would be joining. And even better, the people coming on his trip were couples—besides you and Colby. How fabulous.
As you got comfortable in your window seat, you gazed out it with a comfortable smile on your face—trying to ignore the shuffles and huffs of annoyance from beside you.
“Do you wanna take up anymore room?”
Turning your head to face him, a smirk formed on your face as you locked eyes with him, “Yeah, sure.” You teased, pushing your legs out next to his.
With a harsh kick, Colby moved your legs back to under your seat, grabbing his headphones and placing them in his ears, “Don’t talk to me for the entire flight.” He stated, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair.
“Finally, something smart coming out of your mouth.” You mumbled, turning back to face the window.
The flight was peaceful, you got up once to go to the bathroom—having to disturb Colby which only lead to a small argument. Mixed with having to ignore the dirty looks he shot you when you returned to your seat.
“How was it?” Katrina asked, slinging her carry-on bag over her shoulder as you exited the plane.
“Take a wild guess.” You spoke sarcastically, raising your eyebrows at her. Katrina chuckled quietly, knowing the answer without you even having to tell her.
The bus ride to the hotel was short—almost everybody dozed off while they waited to arrive. Katrina happily rested her head on your shoulder as she snored, not noticing the way you huffed angrily as you listened to Colby complain about how you awoke him on the flight.
God, he was an ass.
“Alright, this is us.” Sam spoke, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, grabbing Katrina’s arm gently and rocking her awake.
The hotel was beautiful. Large, white pillars rose up from the ground guarding the fancy double doors to the entrance that remained open due to the heat. Surrounding the hotel were trees and plants, paired with colourful flowers—contrasting the white of the walls.
“It’s beautiful.” Colby spoke, admiring the hotel with his ocean, blue eyes.
“I know I am, but thanks anyways, Colbs.” You winked, turning around to shoot him a smug look.
Colby rolled his eyes in irritation, “Don’t flatter yourself. And don’t call me that.”
“Okay, Colbs.”
“God, you’re insufferable.” Colby breathed, shaking his head in annoyance.
“Please, can we have one nice holiday without you guys fighting?” Sam snapped, raising his eyebrows at the two of you.
“Sorry.” You both mumbled in unison, trying to please your friend. But, not enough to slyly shoot each other a dirty look as you entered the hotel.
“Hi, I have four rooms booked under the name Golbach.” Sam smiled sweetly at the receptionist as the rest of the group trailed behind.
“That’s fine, I’ve got it all paid for and set up for you.” She smiled, “So, I’ve got a Corey and Devyn in one room, then a Sam and Katrina in another.” She started handing the couples their room keys, “Then a Jake and Tara, and finally a Y/N and Colby.”
Silence.
“Nope. That’s not happening.” Colby stated, a foul expression on his face.
“Is there a problem?” The receptionist frowned.
“Yeah, we cannot be within two feet of each other without an argument.”
The receptionist laughed, “Oh, I get it. Me and my husband are like that too.”
“No, no, no.” You laughed, “We are not…We will never be…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling like lies were spilling from your lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She chuckled, nervously, “But, unfortunately, in case of an emergency, I cannot change the arrangements of the rooms. I’m so sorry.”
Colby sighed loudly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, you rolled your eyes at his immaturity, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Grabbing the key card for the room, you wheeled your suitcase towards the room, feeling utter disappointment. You knew your holiday would now be ruined due to Colby. He would be complaining about every little thing you did, and you couldn’t help but bite back.
The room was huge. Large hallway leading up into the living area, with a 60 inch flat screen TV and rectangular coffee table in front of it. Next door rested a modernised and perfectly furnished kitchen with a marble top island in the centre.
You and Colby walked around the room in silence as you observed the beautiful room. As you walked down a small hallway, your heart raced with anxiety as you made it to the bedroom. There was only one room left, meaning that there was only one bedroom. You prayed it was double beds on opposites sides of the room.
Colby strolled slowly behind you as you pushed open the door. Your heart dropped at the sight.
Rose petals in the shape of a heart laid across the double bed, paired with others scattered across the floor leading up to it. In the corner of the room were red balloons in the shape of hearts and “Happy Holiday!” written across them. To push things further, a bottle of Champagne and two glasses rested on a circular table next to the balcony glass doors.
“Well, fuck.” Colby chuckled, “If only they knew.”
“If only they knew what?” You spat, waiting for the insult to hit you.
“That you were such a bitch, they wouldn’t have gone to all this effort.” He smirked, walking over to the bed and playing with the roses.
Ignoring his comment, you trudged towards the Champagne, popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. You sighed happily as the bubbly beverage slipped down your throat—hopefully this would calm your anger.
You and Colby didn’t speak another word the rest of the day. The others had sent a few messages to the group chat discussing dinner later in the evening, but other than that—nothing. Colby relaxed in the living area as you prepared yourself for the dinner. You elegantly did your makeup—your skin looking flawless, and your lips looking pink and plump. You then curled your gorgeous, silky hair, letting it rest comfortably on your chest as you slipped on your dress.
And by God, did you look good.
Your breasts were accentuated perfectly and your ass popped deliciously. You knew you’d get some attention tonight, and you were excited. But maybe not by who you were expecting.
Your heels clicked satisfyingly against the floor as you approached the living area. Colby was sat on the couch, phone in hand, in a suit as he scrolled endlessly. He looked up once to acknowledge your presence, before returning to his phone.
Not long after, his head snapped back towards you, a shocked expression on his face as you adjusted your coat, “What?” You spat.
Colby stared for a few seconds longer before plastering a smirk on his face, “Slutty as always.”
“Fuck you.” You seethed, glaring at him as he sauntered over to you.
“You wish, sweetheart.” He whispered, teasingly tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
Pulling your head away from you, you pushed his chest, forcing him back slightly, “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Taking a deep breath, you swung open the front door as you walked into the hallway. You could not deal with him tonight, you wanted to have a nice night and not be bothered by his rude remarks. Luckily, your meal with your friends was unbothered by Colby as he sat at the opposite end of the table. Thank God.
“You coming to the club?” Tara questioned as you exited the restaurant.
“Fuck yeah.” You grinned, “I wanna get fucked up tonight.”
“Easy tiger.” Sam chuckled from behind you, “Remember who you’re sharing a room with.”
“What about it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
Sam shook his head, “Doesn’t matter.” He mumbled, turning around to engage in conversation with the boys.
Weird.
The club was busy tonight. Typical for a Friday night, though. People were everywhere—dancing, drinking and singing. Just like you.
You were 5 drinks deep and you were hammered. The buzz you felt was beyond tipsy—you knew you were a lightweight, but not this bad. Yeah, maybe the fancy dinner had unbelievable portion sizes, but the Vodka here was something else.
As a familiar song began to play, you gasped in excitement as you grasped Katrina and Tara’s arms as you grinned at Devyn in front of you. The music flowed through your body as the rhythm picked up. The beat took over your body as you moved to the music.
You were thoroughly enjoying yourself when a pair of large hands slithered around your waist. A certain brunette asshole strangely made it’s way into your mind as you turned around, but you were, unfortunately, met with a stranger.
“Hey, beautiful.” The tall mousey brunette smirked down at you, “Care to dance?”
Feeling extremely drunk and dangerously cheeky, you agreed. Your hips moving sensually against his as he gripped your waist while you danced. Your eyes wondered over to the bar where your four male friends stood, watching over you and your friends. Your eyes locked with Colby’s and, more specifically, the angry look on his face.
A devilish smirk crept its way up on your lips, an evil idea making its way into your mind. Bending over, you couldn’t help but grind on the strange man behind you, watching as Colby’s face dropped even further at your action.
You ignored the cheers from your friends as you retained the eye contact with Colby as you flipped your hair over your shoulder to glance back at the very obviously aroused man. But, before you could even utter another word, you’re pulled upright and away from the dance floor.
“Dude, what the fuck?” The guy called after you, a confused expression on his face.
“Get the fuck away from her.” Colby growled towards him, shooting him a look of pure rage, one you’d never seen before. His cheeks were pink from the alcohol he’d consumed and the anger that flooded through him.
Colby swivelled back around and pulled you out of the club by your arm, his grip harsh as he did so. He didn’t utter a single word as he pushed you inside the hotel room.
“Colby..” You mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.
“Shut up.” He spat, not turning around to face as you as he dragged you inside the bedroom and slamming the door.
“What did you do that—Mmf!” Your words were cut short when you were slammed against the wall.
“Y’know, it’s one thing to constantly be a bitch and piss me off,” Colby started, his arms above your head as he seethed above you, “But it’s another to grind on some fucking prick in front of me like I’m some sort of joke.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You fired back, “It’s not like we’re together, Colby? I can do whatever the fuck I like.”
“Oh, is that right?” Colby laughed, darkly, “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, no.” He smouldered, “You don’t get to do that around me.”
“And why’s that, Colby? Please, enlighten me, because you sound out of your fucking mind right now.”
Before you knew it, Colby’s lips were smushed against yours in a passionate kiss. You gasped into his mouth as you melted against his lips, your hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against your warm neck. Colby grasped the underside of your thighs and pulled you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his hips.
“Colby..” You moaned breathily as his plump lips attacked your neck, “I need you.”
“Of course you do, who wouldn’t?” He teased, pulling your back off the wall and leading you both towards the bed.
“Seriously? You can’t stop being an ass even before we’re about to have sex?”
Colby chuckled from above as you laid in the rose petals beneath you, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you’d be so pretty.”
“So I’m not already?” You fired back, shooting him a dirty look as he crawled between your legs.
“Shut up, Y/N.” He ordered, a shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss you once more.
Colby wasted no time in stripping you of your clothes, chucking them on the floor along with his own as he continued to kiss you desperately. As Colby pulled your soaked panties off your legs, his lips slowly made their way down to your exposed breasts—his mouth finding it’s way around your mounds beautifully.
Quiet moans slipped past your lips as his hand trailed down to your core, your breathing quickening as he did so. His nimble fingers found themselves comfortably circling your aching clit, making you feel the smile against his lips as he kissed your neck. Your back arched off the bed in pure pleasure as he slipped a finger inside you, wanting nothing more than to scream out as he curled them upwards to hit your sweet spot.
“Please.” You moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as you scrunched your face up in pleasure.
Soon enough, Colby pushed your legs up and onto his shoulders, his tip teasingly rubbing against your soaked entrance. With a few whines and whimpers of desperation, Colby swiftly pushed his cock deep inside you. As a shocked moan rasped from your throat, he sped up his hips as he rocked his throbbing dick in and out of you.
“Oh, yes, don’t stop!” You sobbed, tears falling past your eyes as he pushed your legs further back to reach deeper inside your slutty pussy.
“Jesus, why didn’t I do this sooner?” He mumbled, his cheeks flared red as he huffed with each thrust.
Colby quickly got bored as he pulled out and flipped you on your stomach, pulling your ass into the air and slipping back into your warm hole. You gripped the bedsheets as he ruthlessly destroyed you from behind, degrading names filling the room as he spoke. You crumbled petals in your fists as you clung onto the bed for life, Colby showing no mercy as he fucked you.
“You’re such a whore, aren’t you?” Colby spat, yanking your hair back as your ear met his lips, “You’ve been begging for me to fuck for years now, haven’t you?”
“Yes! yes, yes, Colby. Wanted you for—Aah! for so long.” You blabbered, your throat feeling sore and dry from all the screaming that erupted from it.
“What a good girl—finally.” He praised, letting your hair loose as your head hit the sheets once more, feeling the pleasure build up in your stomach as his fingers deliciously rubbed your clit, “Fuck, I’m close.”
Before you could realise, Colby was cumming deep inside you as your own orgasm hit. His name released itself from your lips countless times as he fucked his load further inside you. As you came down from your high of ecstasy, Colby pulled out of you slowly, falling next to you on the bed.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He mumbled, his eyes staring intensely at the ceiling as he regained his breath, “That was something.”
“It sure was.” You murmured back, feeling a sense of awkwardness fill the air, as you coughed nervously, “I’m gonna go shower.”
But, before you could even move, Colby’s arms slid around your waist and pulled you close to his warm body. A smile rose to your face as he spooned you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“We can get to that later.” He informed you, nuzzling his head into your neck as he closed his eyes, “And don’t worry, we can go back to hating each other in the morning.”
-
HEYY
its been a while i’m sorry!
i’ll probably be posting less but i won’t ghost y’all i promise
i love you all sm
@paymal7
@samandcolby-ownme
@peachhiz
@morchilluv
@iwanttoberich420
@reem6806
@cam1ly
@lovely-red2
@ilymusic27
@nanascupid
@xosugardoll
@m-maxie-ie
@theyloveniqueeeee
@whicked-hazlatwhore
@camille-1019
1K notes · View notes
lixxpix · 25 days
Text
forbidden fruit - nishimura riki
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slytherin!niki x ravenclaw!reader
warnings: hogwarts au, pureblood/muggleborn society, use of slur "mudblood", a lot of angst, betrayal, lots of swearing, fluff, use of third person pov, niki's friends basically being assholes, threats and mentions of death, can get a bit dark at times i guess, idk man idk how to write tws
genre: coming of age, enemies(ok not really but society issues and stuff) to friends to enemies to lovers, hogwarts au
status: coming soon... (taglist open!)
author's note: aaa i'm so excited for this omd >< taglist is open for this fic!
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sneak peek...
"you really think i would make friends with a mudblood?" he sneered, upper lip curling up in disgust as you shrank backwards, his friends smirking at your heartbroken expression.
"i-"
"filthy mudblood."
two words snarled at you. two words that broke your fragile glass heart as you crumpled, leaving you heartbroken and hurt. two words that completely destroyed whatever friendship the two of you had managed to build up, leaving only ruin in it's wake.
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@capri-cuntz @vixialuvs @enhagvrl @judeduartewannabe @livnmsy @heeseungspookie @ming-h0e @istphanie @soobs-things @kangseulgithegreat @hohohobo @asteria-wood @belowbun @gudkc @hearts4itoshi @saintriots @mora134340 @riksaes @ak-aaa-li @strawberrymilkyum @heart4hees @lovleybahiyyih @yjsunzi @yoonzns @firstclassjaylee @baekxo07 @rk1stars @luminouskalopsia @wonniesverse @starseungs @sleepdeprivedline @soobiary @kpop-fanatic-lover16 
@capri-cuntz @vixialuvs @enhagvrl @judeduartewannabe @livnmsy @heeseungspookie @ming-h0e @istphanie @soobs-things @kangseulgithegreat @hohohobo @asteria-wood @belowbun @gudkc @hearts4itoshi @saintriots @mora134340 @riksaes @ak-aaa-li @strawberrymilkyum @heart4hees @lovleybahiyyih @yjsunzi @yoonzns @firstclassjaylee @baekxo07 @rk1stars @luminouskalopsia @wonniesverse @starseungs @sleepdeprivedline @soobiary @kpop-fanatic-lover16 
(i'm so so sorry if the tags aren't woking, i'm fixing it TT taglist is still open tho!) (some people might get re-tagged multiple times in this but so sorry for the false alarm, i'm just trying to get the tags to work)
811 notes · View notes
auteurdelabre · 2 months
Text
As long as you want - Part 2 - Joel!Miller x f!Reader
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As long as you want - Part 2 - Joel!Miller x f!Reader
pairing: Joel!Miller x f!Reader
words: 4.5k
Rating: PG13 (some adult themes)
Summary: You try to ignore the growing attraction you feel for Joel Miller as he shows you his softer side.
Tags:  Enemies to friends/lovers, Fluff, Mutual Pining, mentions of pain medication, stubborn reader, Joel POV in parts, Tooth-Rotting sweetness in parts, allusions of male masturbation/fantasy, sexual tension, NO y/n.
a/n:  Originally gonna be a one-shot but y'all wanted more and I can't say no to ya!
Dedicated to @katiexpunk once more because there's a good chance if she didn't reach out to me the other day, I was about to quit tumblr altogether.
part ONE here
------------
You wake with a start hours later. The blanket over you feels heavy and the ache in your ribs is sharp. You squirm to relieve the pressure and pause when the sound of light breathing reaches your ears. 
You're not alone in your bed. 
Your eyes crack open to see a familiar face tilted towards you. Eyes shut languidly, mouth parted, face slack with sleep. 
Joel Miller. 
Up this close you can see the bits of grey in his beard and moustache, the lines at the corner of his closed eyes, the gold of his skin.  
His jacket is slung over yours on the chair and a quick glance down tells you he's taken off his boots and is sleeping on top of the covers. As you take this in you also see that your hand is clasped in his, fingers laced. 
How did Joel fucking Miller end up in your bed? And how did your hand end up wrapped up in his? 
You want to mull on this further but the acute ache in your ribs has started to throb. You let out a small whimper at the pain and like he's been shot Joel jerks his head up from the pillow, awake like a broad-shouldered bear, bleary -eyed and blinking. You drag your hand back from his loosened grip.
"You in pain?" Joel murmurs voice thick and mind fuzzy with sleep. He licks his dry lips, clearing his throat. "Need me to grab you another pill?" 
The way he speaks is so casual, as if the two of you were lovers waking from a dreamy night together. So opposite to what you really are: two people who can barely stand each other. 
"What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Miller?" You snap sharply. 
Miller. 
No more Joel. No more soft eyes and softer smile for him. As Joel suspected the pill did a number on you and you can't remember much. You don't remember begging him for a kiss and asking Joel to lay with you. You don't remember your murmured acknowledgement that you felt better with him nearby. 
It's back to how it's always been. 
Joel manages to swallow his disappointment before clamoring off the bed, hearing the cheap springs creak in your mattress as he does. 
"Sorry about that," he says gruffly as he pulls on his boots. "Was just tired I guess."
"I'm sure your own bed is perfectly adequate," you snap, the pain making you even more irritable than usual. You hiss, holding your side. Joel frowns. 
"I'll head out, just lemme grab you a pill first."
"Just g-"
"Quit it," Joel insists roughly. "You're in pain and this'll only take a sec."
His head is woozy from waking so abruptly. He blinks again before he spots your jeans on the floor. You watch him crouch down, pulling the small white pill from the pocket before he comes back to you, the small pill balanced on one wide fingertip. 
"Take it," he instructs.
But you're in too much pain to move, to take it from him. You're also too proud to admit it, hating that he's already seen you in such a vulnerable state. You want him to leave so he doesn't witness more of your wincing and the way your face is gone sickly pale with perspiration beading at your forehead. 
"Just leave it on the table."
"You need it now. I can see you're hurtin'."
"Joel just-"
He takes advantage of your mouth open in complaint, slipping his finger between your parted lips and placing the pill onto your tongue as your mouth closes around his forefinger in surprise. 
The sensation of Joel's wide finger on your tongue startles you into silencing, lips quickly circling his digit. Joel forces his focus to your eyes, knowing if he sees your lips around his finger he's going to lose it. 
You feel his heavy gaze on you as he towers above you standing next to the bed. You watch the way his eyes seem to grow darker. 
"Swallow."
Your own pupils blow wide at the rasped order. He feels the soft of your tongue dabbing against the pad of his finger.You stare up at him in shock before you feel the pill being pressed to your tongue and only then do you swallow. 
Satisfied Joel slides his finger out of your mouth before letting it rest on the plump flesh of your lower lip. 
His eyes never leave yours. 
"Frustratin' woman," Joel murmurs, finger lingering on your lower lip as he stares at you. Your cheeks heat as your eyelids flutter briefly. 
Then suddenly he's walking away from you, his hand stretching before turning into a fist. You watch his tall form lope out of your bedroom and then he's gone from sight. 
///
Kiss me again, Miller. 
The words haunt him. The memory of your lips snagged between his own. The way you'd sighed as you snuggled up against him. 
How is he supposed to forget that? How is he supposed to pretend things haven't changed? 
He throws the front door open, thankful it's empty. Ellie must be at school. He goes to pour himself a drink, even though it's a bit early for it. 
He can still feel your tongue against his finger, the way your mouth was so warm and wet and fuck...  He's so hard he can't stand it. 
He moves to his bedroom, his breathing labored as he shucks off his jeans and shirt, collapsing onto the bed with a growl. 
He takes himself in hand and tries to picture you and your soft mouth. The mattress squeaks under him as he starts fisting himself to the memory of your murmured confession, to the sensation of your mouth under his.
I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Miller.
But it doesn't work, he can't get there no matter how much he strokes and focuses. You weren't yourself when you told him that. You weren't in your right mind when you kissed him. It doesn't feel right. 
He lets himself go with a frustrated growl. And even as he pulls his clothes on and goes about his day he can't get you out of his mind. 
There's a softness to you that he's uncovered. Something you keep hidden. Something he desperately wants to unearth in you again without the aid of pain medication. But then he remembers the horror on your face as you found him in your bed and he feels the shame suffuse him.
"Stop it," he tells himself as he heads out into the cold. "Just stop it." 
///
The night moves sluggishly with you attempting to nap for most of it, your pain pill thankfully knocking you out for most of it. You wake to the rap of your front door. 
"Come in," you offer hoarsely. 
You hear tentative footsteps and try to swallow down the pain blooming in your ribs. Gemma is at your door with a bowl of what smells like soup and smiling gently. You notice that her hair is flecked with fresh snow. 
"Hi there," she says approaching you. "Thought I'd check in on my patient."
You try to bring yourself to a sitting position but end up crying out. Gemma places the soup on your bedside table, her hand flying to your forehead before she's gently moving up your shirt, eyeing your bruise. 
"No fever, thankfully. Swelling is as expected." Her eyes flick to your agonized expression. "Pain bad?"
"I'll survive."
"Good thing Joel was in the stables with you yesterday morning."
"Mhmm."
That's all you'll offer. You have no desire to tell her about waking up to finding the man in your bed. 
You feel your stomach gurgle as the scent of the soup wafts over to you. Gemma gives a sympathetic look before passing you the other pillow. 
"Squeeze this. I'm gonna sit you up."
You do so; a yelp of pain is bitten back before you're propped up in your bed against the pillows. You're still at an angle but it's do-able. Gemma brings a chair to the side of your bed, eyes alighting to your face. 
She does a few more examinations, fingers pressing against your side, her cold stethoscope pressing into your sternum. 
She produces an ice pack wrapped in fabric that she presses to your bruised flesh. You yelp at the sensation despite her warning that it will be cold.
"Sorry," she says ducking her head. "I know it's chilly. Gotta wear this twenty minutes, two times a day. Keeps the bruising down."
"Fine."
"You been drinking fluids?"
"Yep," you lie. You have No desire to share with her that the reason you're not drinking is because then you'd have to get up to pee. And the thought of getting up out of this bed seems torturous. 
"Looks like its just rest you need then," she tells you as she digs around in her pocket. "Now I brought some more pills-"
"I'm not taking any more pills," you interrupt her firmly, even as sweat beads at your temple. 
She goes to reply when there's another knock sounds at the door.
 Who is it now? The fucking Jackson City welcoming committee?
"Come in," you sigh. 
You hear the scuffle of heavy boots and your heart jumps when Joel appears at the door. He's holding a bowl of soup, the same as Gemma. Almost immediately you feel the air change when your eyes land on his before they skitter away anxiously. 
"Uh, thought you might be hungry." Joel glances over at Gemma. "How's the patient?"
"She's fine," you snap. 
"Stubborn," Gemma sighs. "She won't take the pain pills."
"You barely have any," you say to her, ignoring Joel standing awkwardly in your bedroom doorframe. 
"Well if you'd let me finish you'd know we learned about a shipment delivered in Teton Village," Gemma tells you patiently. "Gonna grab it when the snow clears."
Joel perks up when he hears that. He can see by the blanching of your face and the way you're gripping the bed sheets that you're in a lot of pain. But you're scowling at the news, not looking the least bit impressed with Gemma's news. 
"That could be weeks with the snow," you inform her. "The snow is brutal this time of year, not to mention the freezing winds. No one is gonna wanna go out to get it."
"But the point is we have a supply on route," Gemma argues. “So you can take these.”
"And when that shipment is brought back to Jackson and we see how much is in it, I'll take some pills then."
"You're in pain," she tells you firmly. "A lot of it."
"I'd be in more pain if I knew I was taking everything from the community," you snap back. 
The pain is not just in your ribs, it feels like it's everywhere. Your head is throbbing, your body aching and you want everyone to just fuck off. 
"You need sleep to heal-"
"You really wanna help me?" You grunt out through waves of pain. "Send me over some booze so I can get shitfaced and pass out."
Gemma can tell there's no reasoning with you. 
"I got whiskey at mine," Joel offers softly to Gemma. "I can bring it over if she needs it." 
"She doesn't need whiskey," Gemma sighs. "She needs medication so she can get proper sleep and start to heal."
"I'm right here," you grumble, hating how they're talking about you as if you don't exist. You slam your eyes shut. 
"If you're not getting me whiskey I'd like to politely ask you both to leave so I can sleep." 
You hear the two of them pausing, likely exchanging exasperated looks before you hear their dual footsteps head out the door. 
///
Hours later your side hurts so fucking much that you're almost tempted to crawl over to the Jackson clinic and beg for those pills but you stop yourself. You did this to yourself; you went into that fucking pen. 
Taking all the community's painkillers would be so impossibly selfish a thing to do because of your own stupid actions. You can't do it. Maybe when the new shipment of medication comes by. 
There's a gentle rap at the door and desperation is making you consider asking whomever is at the door to get you some dinner. You're starving and so thirsty. Your mouth is like a desert. It's so dry you can barely call out to whoever is standing outside your door. 
There's another knock and you can only offer a mournful sound of pain in reply. You hear the door opening and those familiar heavy footsteps thud to your bedroom. 
He's so broad, so tall, so serious looking. His shoulders nearly take up the frame of your door. 
"What do you want Miller?" You croak. 
"Nothin'," he replies in that familiar raspy tone of his, like dry leaves in autumn.
"You sure?" You sneer. "Thought you might be coming over for another slumber party."
Joel's cheeks go pink at that but he just swallows and comes to take the seat Gemma left beside the bed earlier in the day. 
"Nah I'm all rested up," he tells you smirking. It's then that you notice the amber colored bottle in his left hand. Your brows rise. 
"Is that whiskey?"
Joel nods. "You got clean glasses?"
"Glasses yes," you wince as you squirm and feel a stab of pain go through you. "Clean? Unsure."
Joel smiles before his attention is drawn to the two soups at your bedside table, still untouched because you can't move enough to get at them.  
"You eat yet?"
"No." 
Joel nods before he replaces the soup bowls with the whiskey bottle and strides from your room. 
"What're you doing?"
"Gonna reheat it."
"Just hand me the whiskey bottle." 
You know you sound petulant but you don't care. You want something that will help take the edge off. 
"You're in no position to be givin' orders," Joel tells you over his shoulder as he approaches your small hotplate. 
He looks around your space, finding his lips curling into an amused smile. He didn't really notice the other day but your kitchen is a disaster. Bowls, plates and forks are piled on top of each other in the sink. Your counters are littered with crumbs and pencils and odds and ends. 
"Your place is a mess," he calls out to you. 
"Yeah well I've been sort of busy the last twenty four hours," you snap back loudly. "Haven't exactly had much time for housekeeping."
Joel huffs a quiet laugh to himself before moving to look at your cooking surfaces. 
Your hotplate is in decent shape, probably because you take most of your meals in the dining hall. He knows because he often finds you eating with Ellie there. The two of you get along well. You're one of the few people she seems to stand without too much trouble. 
Joel catches sight of himself in the reflection of the kitchen window. He sees the gentle smile on his face before commanding it into a frown. 
Why the fuck am I here? She can barely stand me. 
But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. He needs to know you're okay, needs to know you're being taken care of. He knows you live alone, that you're more stubborn than he is and he's been anxious all day that you've needed help.
That you've needed him. 
Back in your bedroom you hear Joel moving things in your kitchen, locating a pot, finding a mixing spoon (when he does you hear him mumbling to himself and then the tap running). 
Eventually he comes back with the soup in one of your clean bowls and a spoon. He looks at you critically laying half wedged before he puts the bowl on the table. 
"Hold the pillow to your stomach."
You want to argue that you can eat perfectly fine like that but the smell of the tomato soup has your mouth watering. You do as he says, holding the pillow tightly to your midsection. 
Your eyes widen as Joel leans over the bed, wrapping his muscled arms around you by the middle, holding you tightly to him to keep you stabilized, the pillow between you.  
"Gonna help you scoot up," he murmurs at your temple. "Ready?"
"'Kay."
You feel breathless as Joel slowly pulls you to a sitting position. And despite how gentle and slow he is with his motions, the pain still takes your breath away. 
You let out a shattered cry before your forehead crashes into his shoulder. Your body is tensed, aching.  
You're so angry, so frustrated, in so much pain you just want to cry and scream. 
"S'okay," Joel soothes. You feel his hand cupping the back of your head. "Go on and let it out."
You don't even hesitate. You let out a small scream of exhausted pain against where his shoulder and neck meet, tears springing from your eyes as you do. All are muffled by the flannel he wears, coming out suppressed.  
"I know, I know," he soothes as he feels your tears soak his shirt. "I know that pain. Makes you feel angry at the whole world, right?" 
You give a whimpered reply of agreement. 
He's right. You are. You're angry at the horse, you're angry at yourself, you're angry at the clicker is you're angry at Joel and Gemma and anyone who's ever talk to you. You're also mad at yourself for getting you into this position. You just so fucking angry and in pain. 
Joel sees you gripping the sheets as he holds you. 
"Just breathe," Joel tells you quietly. 
"Can't," you mutter against his shoulder. "Ribs." 
You hear a soft chuckle from him and it reverberates into your body, despite the pillow. It makes you almost want to smile. He releases you gently against the pillows, looking at your red-rimmed eyes and holding in a sigh at your exhausted countenance. 
He takes a seat in the chair and you watch Joel spin the spoon in your soup, before placing the bowl under your chin and bringing the spoon to your mouth. 
"I can feed myself," you tell him shortly, but there's no ire in your tone. 
He nods and you take the spoon and bowl in hand. He sits back on the chair watching you eat hurriedly. He opens his mouth to tell you to slow down but clamps it shut again. 
He leaves and returns with a glass of water that you take eagerly and finish with a gulp. Joel refills it three more times and you finish each with gusto. 
He takes the empty bowl and spoon from you, taking your dishes to the kitchen and then returning. 
"Better?"
"Yeah," you nod. "I don't think I realized how hungry I was." 
Joel continues to look at you with a strange little smile on his face. You feel like you're being studied by him and it makes you frown. You're about to ask him if you have something on your face when a sharp pain goes through your ribs and you grasp at your side wincing. 
"Alright you did good with eatin'," Joel reasons. "You kept your end of the bargain so I will too." 
He pours you a small glass of whiskey in a clean glass before handing it over. You take it greedily, throwing it back. It burns all the way down, a delicious sensation that has you grinning into your glass. 
"Was wonderin' if I'd ever see that again," Joel muses before pouring a first glass for himself and a second for you. You bring the glass back to your mouth, confused. 
"See what again?"
"Your smile."
You don't know how to respond to that so you just look at the bottom of your refilled glass awkwardly. Joel takes a small sip of his whiskey, watching as you throw your second glass back as well.
"Slow down," he urges gently. "No point in doin' this if you're just gonna throw it back up."
He has a point. He pours you a third and gives you a stern look when you take the glass from him. 
"Sipping only."
"Don't order me around, Miller," you say sharply. "This isn't patrols."
Joel rolls his eyes at you, amused and exasperated all at once. You're such a hard little shell, so impenetrable at times. Joel thought he was guarded, but you're something else. 
The two of you sit in quiet, listening to the sound of the whistling wind against your home. You sip the whisky, wishing you weren't in so much pain when you breathed. You glance around your room, wishing it was tidier. 
Joel watches you, sees the way your eyes flit around the room and wonders if he could ever bring up the other night without you being horrified. 
"Why're you being so nice to me?' you ask suddenly, breaking the spell.  "You're never nice."
"Sure I am,” Joel says looking affronted.
"Not to me."
"I brought you home didn't I? Brought you whiskey? Cooked you dinner? I ain't all bad."
"You didn't cook me dinner. You heated it up."
"My favorite kinda cookin'," Joel reasons with a smile. The whiskey has him feeling warm and relaxed. 
You feel an amused smirk start at the corner of your mouth. You suppress it with a gentle sip of your drink. You let it coat your tongue slowly before you let it drip down your throat. 
"How come you're so mean to me?" Joel offers, though his tone is light.
"I am not!"
He sees the flash of irritation in your eyes immediately and he can't help but be amused. It's very easy for him to rile you up. 
"Are so."
"You started it!" You insist, wincing and the words come out louder than anticipated, the force of your irritation causing your ribs to ache. Joel is still leaning back insouciantly in his chair, regarding you with gentle amusement.
"How'd you figure that?"
"My first day on patrols, I was trying so hard to be nice and do you remember what you said the second you saw me?"
"Nope."
"You said; Don't know why they'd stick me with a newbie,” you say trying to imitate his raspy baritone.
"So?" Joel looks genuinely perplexed. "You were a newbie and I didn't know why they sent you to do patrols with me. Didn't know you were an experienced rider at the time." 
You falter a moment. You hadn't been expecting that response. 
"You were so rude," you insist, irritated that he's trying to pretend like he wasn't in the wrong. "Telling me I was holding my gun wrong, making fun of how I was riding."
Joel takes a moment, looking at the ceiling as he tries to recall your first meeting. He knows he thought you were attractive, he remembers that he was confused they'd paired the two of you up until he'd seen you ride. Your form was comical, but you were good on horseback, even better than him. 
But he doesn't remember disliking you that first day. 
That came later, after your snide comments and rolled eyes. When you shouldered past him in the dining hall and ignored him when he tried to greet you as you walked by him in town. He'd thought you were an uptight brat, a rude woman who put on airs. He'd had no clue he'd offended you that first day. 
"From what I recall I suggested a different way to hold your gun because each time you shot it knocked your shoulder," Joel says remembering. "And as for the riding... Well, you do look funny when you ride. Even if you're good at it, you bounce too much." 
"Better than that stupid way you roll your hips," you bite back. 
You can picture it now, one hand on the reigns, tilted back, hips rolling with each step of the horse. Joel raises the glass to his mouth, eyes stuck on yours. 
"Why're you watchin' my hips?"
His voice is a low purr and there it is again. That thread of teasing that borders on something else. Something... Enticing. It reminds you of the other day in the stables, before everything had gone pear shaped.
You think I'm handsome? You sure, darlin'? You’re gettin' mighty flustered
"Hard not to when you're always going first," you sneer into your glass, taking another sip and feeling your cheeks heat. 
"Wait, so that's it?" Joel laughs. "That's your reason for bein' so prickly t'mer? 'Cuz I didn't know why you were assigned to me and because I tried to help you with the way you held your gun?"
"And the riding, thing," you comment lamely. It all sounds pretty pathetic out loud. Is that really why you've been so mean to him all this time? Because of a misunderstanding? 
"That's why you hate me?" Joel chuckles as if reading your mind.   
"I don't hate you," you mumble. "You just... Get under ... my... skin."
You feel like you want to talk more, but your third glass is drained and your eyelids feel heavy. 
"I think...I..."
You feel Joel take the glass from your hand. He keeps you slightly tilted, your head rolling back drowsy against the pillows. You feel his whiskey tinged breath fan across your cheeks. 
"How's the pain?"
"S'okay," you slur. "But I know it's gonna hurt real bad tomorrow."
Joel goes to rearrange your pillow slightly so that your head is better positioned on it. His hand hovers beside your face as he does this and you tilt to face it. 
"Thanks for the whiskey, Miller."
Unthinking you nuzzle your cheek against his arm before slipping into a drowsy slumber. 
Joel pulls back and sits on the chair, watching your placid face, your chest rising up and down under the sheets. You look at peace and he feels a rush of affection go through him at the sight. 
But you're in pain. A whole lot of it and he wants to fix that. Even if you don't want him like he finds himself wanting you. He needs you to be okay. Wants you back to your normal self. 
What would have happened if there had never been that misunderstanding that day? What if patrols had gone on casually, the two of you amiable? 
Would he have asked you for a drink? Would you be in bed together right now? Would his mouth be between your thighs, your fingers gripping his hair? Or would he have you under him, arms held by him above your head moaning his name - his real name, not Miller - as you gazed up at him? 
The thought sends a shiver directly up his spine. 
He stands; pulling your sheets up, making sure you look comfortable and settled before he leaves your home.  
He thinks about your conversation the entire walk back to his place. He thinks about how things could have gone differently. 
If only you'd both made better first impressions.  
If only that's how it had gone. 
If only. 
589 notes · View notes
luveline · 13 days
Note
Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻
quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k
Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 
You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 
“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 
“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 
“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 
Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 
“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 
“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 
Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 
Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 
The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 
“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.
“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 
“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 
“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 
“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 
“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 
“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 
“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 
“She was disgusted.” 
“She said we were being weird teenagers.”
“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 
“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 
“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.
Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 
He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 
“Are you okay?” she asks. 
“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 
Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 
“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 
“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 
“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 
“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 
Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 
“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 
“I missed my cousin, I think.” 
Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 
“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 
He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 
“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 
“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 
“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 
“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 
“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 
“Why now?” 
“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.
You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 
“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 
You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 
Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 
“Freezing!” 
Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 
“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 
“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 
“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 
“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 
You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 
“Sorry,” he says. 
“What for?” 
For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 
“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 
“How much do you have left?” he asks. 
“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 
“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 
“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 
Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 
You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 
“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 
“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 
“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 
“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 
“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.
“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 
“What?” 
“It’s a good thing.” 
“How dare you.” 
“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 
“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 
“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”
He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 
428 notes · View notes
yndrgrl · 10 months
Text
yandere! bakugou uses you to get to someone else, but ends up falling for you instead
long ass fic. fem! reader. regular! au. enemies to lovers. lowkey crack! fic. tsundere! bakugou.
warnings: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, somnaphilia (idk how to spell it), degrading, bullying, spitting, public sex, hatefuck
a/n: requests are open :) (plz request something, idk what else to write about 😭)
---
"no." that's all you said. so flat, so robotic. that's all you wanted to say.
bakugou was a pushy man, however. "it wasn't a question."
"oh for real?" you gasped, putting both hands to your cheeks to show your faux shock. "no."
"listen, you're gonna help me win over uraraka-"
"no, i'm not, bakugou," you denied once more. you don't even know why he came to you in the first place. it was clear as day that uraraka had a major crush on izuku, & izuku liked uraraka just as much.
honestly, what surprised you the most is that bakugou even had a crush. i guess it makes sense that it would be on uraraka though.
"yes, you are because i have something over you," bakugou threatened lowly.
you scoffed, "oh, do you now?" there wasn't really much he could have over you that would make you help him-
he slammed a journal on the desk, a slam echoing throughout the library. it was your personal diary.
you lunged for your journal, but he snatched it & threw it into his bag. you screamed at him, "how'd you get that, you sicko?!" the only way he would've gotten that was by breaking into your dorm room.
"are you going to help me or not?"
yes, you could've bought a nicer, leather journal with handcrafted pieces of paper, glued recent pictures of your life & decorated the pages with washi tape, stickers, & colored markers, but you didn't want to start over yet. your journal is a year & a half old, every page nearly filled; it's a deep dive into your mind. every overwhelming event in your life, every good memory, every goal you strive to achieve is written down in that book. bakugou katsuki had that all in his possession.
that's why, two days after you found out what he has, you're sitting with your usual study group in your designated, outdoor study area-- plus bakugou. your bluetooth speaker played a playlist shared throughout the group. you sat on the edge with uraraka beside you & bakugou across from you.
"y/n," someone said, catching your attention; it was uraraka. "i didn't know you & bakugou were friends."
you wanted to laugh. you quickly told her, "we're not-"
"we're good friends," katsuki overlapped with his lie. his scowl upturned into the smallest smile when uraraka glanced up at him.
"oh wow, i had no idea! the two of you are so hard-headed, i wouldn't have expected the two of you to get along so great," she said back with a giggle. you loved uraraka, but she's too friendly sometimes.
bakugou, trying to play into the cool-bad-boy character, said, "yeah, well she makes it hard sometimes, but it helps when she has cute friends, i guess."
never in your life did you think you would hear big, tough bakugou flirt in your life.
they continued their conversation that you tuned out, rereading your notes & constructing plans on how to get your journal so you could expose him. everyone was invested in their own stuff. obviously, bakugou & uraraka were talking amongst themselves. momo was explaining to jirou & mina some math topic that they were sobbing about. tsu was on her laptop as she tried finishing a power point that was due the next day.
your chin was propped up by your hand, humming the song that started playing. "um, excuse me," a masculine voice called out. it caught the attention everyone at the table. you heard bakugou scoff, & you could only assume he rolled his eyes.
you looked up at the source of the voice. he was right in front of you, face red, cheeky smile. he was cute in the way that a puppy eager for a treat was. "you're y/n, right?"
"yeah, i am," you confirmed, matching his grin.
he introduced himself by saying his name & told you that he was in the hero-support program. he then said, "i just wanted to say that you're just really pretty."
compliments were one thing. compliments from complete strangers always messed you up though. "oh, th-thanks." you're so awkward.
"so like, maybe i could get your number, & we could go on a date or two?"
you glanced back at all your friends, who all had big smiles as a way of non-verbally saying, "get your manz, bitch!!"
bakugou on the other hand, had an expression of confusion & anger-- the anger was permanent though.
"i mean, i don't give out my phone number, but maybe we can snap or something?"
the guy nodded with enthusiasm, pulling out his phone to give you his username. "cool, well sorry for wasting your guys' time," the boy said to you friends before turning to you & saying, "i'll hit you up later?"
"can't wait," you replied back.
as soon as he was out of earshot, mina squealed, "oh my god! you're such a flirt!"
jirou teased, "you're so awkward, it's literally so funny."
"you're my pretty best friend," tsu croaked with a laugh.
"guys, nothing is gonna happen," you said with a blush. "i'm just gonna be his friend."
"how does it feel to be hit on for the first time, loser?" bakugou yawned, as if he's been hit on ten million times by fan girls & milfs or something.
mina retaliated, "what are you talking about? y/n gets hit on all the time!"
uraraka jumped in, "yeah, what's was that? guy number five?"
"y/n?" bakugou questioned, & all your friends nodded. "that thing? doubt it."
"what's there to doubt? you just saw it," you growled at him, he annoyed you so badly.
after that study session, he got uraraka's number like he hoped for, but he was more curious about you. he never realized until that day how often you do actually get men's attention. bakugou always assumed you were some bookworm, writer nerd who leeched off of his darling, uraraka for popularity & personality.
"i don't get it," bakugou muttered, staring at your figure across the cafeteria. he was surrounded by his friends, who all followed his gaze.
kirishima groaned, "dude, just ask uraraka out already." it was routine that bakugou would say something about how shitty nerd, deku, isn't good enough for her affections or how he would be a better match for her.
"no, it's not that," bakugou corrected, glare not breaking off of you. this caught kirishima, denki, sero, & mina -who sometimes sat with you as well- off guard.
"what are you talking about, bro," denki asked.
"i don't get it. she's not even that cute," bakugou scoffed, slouching back into the bench. his eyes finally tore away from you & awase from class 1-b.
"who?"
"y/n, i think," mina assumed, & when bakugou didn't deny it, they all knew she was right. "why does it even bother you?"
"it doesn't," he said, glancing back at you. awase left you, & in his place was the floating, fighting machine uraraka. he didn't feel the need to say anything about her though, but he felt like he had to. "she's weird, uraraka shouldn't even be friends with her."
"there it is," sero sighed, making all the others laugh.
"shut up," bakugou scowled at them. everyone was used to it, so they weren't that threatened.
"but seriously, bakubro, don't hate on y/n just cuz she's best friends with uraraka, & you're jealous," kirishima told him. he always did this to the blonde. he wasn't scared to tell him off.
bakugou, infuriated, yelled, "i'm not jealous of her, okay? it's just stupid how she has everyone wrapped around her finger, so don't be some dumb, y/n defenders. hop off her fuckin' dick."
"i'm just saying, man. she's super cool, has a useful quirk, & is an awesome fighter," kirishima said, holding his hands as a way to show he was backing down.
"if i were you, bakugou, i would be trying to be her friend," mina said.
mina's words played on repeat in bakugou's head for a week. it was driving him crazy. even though that bridge of being friends was already burned & he kept telling himself he doesn't care, he can't help but want to be closer to you.
he said it was all for uraraka in the end. after all, when they were texting the other day, she said that she would want a future partner to get along with her friends or else it'll be a deal breaker.
bakugou deduced that if he was on favorable terms with you that uraraka would fall for him-- & maybe you too. he felt himself physically jolt when he thought that. why in fucks name would he want you to fall for him? he thought for a second. it's not like he wants to be with you or anything, but he doesn't want you with anyone else.
he somehow found himself in front of your dorm door past curfew. bakugou, at this time, was usually asleep, dreaming about a life where him & uraraka lived happily ever after. however, tonight was different. he didn't feel like thinking about the short-haired brunette.
he doesn't even know why he's outside your door.
in his head, he rationalized that he just loves uraraka so much that he'd give up sleep to become your friend. it was such an urgent situation that he didn't even bother putting on shirt.
he fished in his sweatpants' pocket for a lock pick, the same one he used to break into your dorm the first time to steal your journal. bakugou jammed it into the lock, opening the door with ease. he shut the door carefully before stalking further into your room.
there you were on your bed. swaddled in your fluffy duvet, cuddling a stuffed animal. you must've felt his presence because your sleeping self started shifting & ended up kicking off your blanket. you ended up on your stomach, one leg crunched towards your side while the bottom leg laid straight. you faced away from bakugou.
his breath hitched, something inside him twitched. bakugou couldn't help but stare. he had to admit that you had the body of his dream girl. wait no, his dream girl was uraraka-
he cut his own thoughts off when he saw how your ass looked in that position. the blue hue from the moonlight flowed into the room because, for some reason, you felt no need to close your curtains. he could make the shape of you so clearly. he reached for you.
he told himself that he wouldn't be cheating on his soon-to-be lover. it's just a touch, a friendly touch that friends share with each other.
his fingertips ghosted over your exposed thighs. you were wearing nothing but thong & an oversized band tee. the gentle touches turned into full-palm caresses. her skin is so smooth, bakugou thought. he loomed closer to you, inhaling deeply. she smells so nice.
he climbed over you with the agility of a shadow. the bed didn't even creak. he kneeled over legs, & his hands found your plush ass. he kneaded your bare butt, shifting you so you were fully on your stomach. you remained unmoving; you usually take melatonin gummies right before bed anyways.
bakugou kept groping your ass while his cock hardened into its full length. his hands wandered, thumbs grazing over your entrance. he grasped you, & he spread your ass cheeks apart. you must be dreaming about something dirty because your thong was soaked.
bakugou readjusted himself so he was on level with your ass. "this is just what friends do," he hazily whispered to himself. "friends help friends get better."
he blew on the wet patch, watching your pussy twitch through your panties. bakugou waited for a second, trying to grasp at any sort of self-control but, when you subconsciously propped your ass higher for him, he couldn't help it. he mentally apologized to uraraka before he dove into your ass.
his tongue licked your clothed slit, & he felt how thin your thong truly was. he only got an inkling of what you tasted like, & he craved more. bakugou lapped you juices through your panties, dampening the light grey cloth into a darker shade. his jaw hinged open to allow his tongue to delve further down.
he found your clit through your thong. he pressed his tongue against you, & sleeping, unsuspecting you let out a moan. "oh fuck," bakugou whispered in response, diving back into your pussy.
he pulled your thong up. it rode higher in your ass, then the part the was covering your pussy disappeared between your lips.
he started eating you out again, groaning in pleasure when he finally got to touch your bare skin. he slurped your juices over & over.
bakugou didn't realize that he pulled his sweatpants & boxers down to his knees. he pulled away from your pussy, a string of your juices & his saliva connecting him to you.
on his knees, he positioned his big cock between your ass. a moment of clarity hit him, it wasn't right, he knew that deep down. you really didn't do anything to him.
your phone next to your pillow buzzed. he grabbed it, his hung cock still pressed against you. it was a message from uraraka that read, "wait what did you wanna tell me about bakugou earlier? you looked so concerned haha."
you were trying to tell him? what a fucking bitch, bakugou thought with pure hatred. you were trying to sabotage him with your words, your pretty little mouth, with your dumb, stupid body.
his rationality was once again thrown out of the door. uraraka would want me to show y/n her place, he thought. he climbed off of you. he had to show you what your mouth was meant for. your mouth wasn't meant for snitching, it was meant for sucking cock-- his cock.
bakugou turned your head & pulled it at the edge of the bed. thankfully, it's like your body already knew what was gonna happen, your mouth was already agape. he pushed his tip past your lips. your tongue lazily stroked against his length. he moved his dick in & out of your throat, & yet somehow you still remained motionless.
his control turned into animalistic thrusts, gagging you over & over, & you still stayed asleep. "fuckin' stupid bitch," he groaned, throwing his head back. your throat expanded with each thrust to accommodate his thickness & length.
spit & his precum spilled out of your mouth & onto your silk pillowcase. because you were sideways, his heavy balls slapped against your face, nose shoved into his pubes. you gargled & gagged in your sleep, but you still handled him so well.
his passionate angry finally swelled up & shot down your throat. even though he was cumming, he kept half-assed thrusting in your throat, coating every inch with white. all for uraraka, remember? because bakugou completely forgot what drove him to do what he just did.
the next day, as you entered the classroom, he heard you tell to uraraka about how the melatonin gummies really worked. "yeah, i was completely knocked out! i drooled so much, my pillow was drenched. it was disgusting."
"really? i know that they're good, but i never drooled that much. maybe you really needed that sleep."
as they passed bakugou's seat, uraraka waved at him with pink cheeks. "hey, bakugou."
"uraraka," he said back to her. he watched your smile drop into a frown, your eyes rolling. he was winning over uraraka, he knew that, but he didn't feel satisfied. he yearned the banter between the two of you more than uraraka's affections. "what was that, idiot?"
uraraka was shocked at first, thinking he was talking to her until she heard you shoot back, "shouldn't you be watching ochaco instead of me?" if he didn't know any better, it sounded like you were jealous.
"y/n, let's calm down," uraraka sheepishly suggested, but it only angered you more. why was she on that weirdo's side? why wasn't she on your side? even after you told her what he did to you, she didn't even care; in fact, she seemed flattered.
"yeah, calm down," bakugou chimed in with that disgusting, cocky smile, "go in the back & drool all over your desk."
"eavesdropping now? you really are obsessed," you huffed, marching towards your desk that was, in fact, in the back of the classroom. you thought uraraka was right behind you, but by the time you turned around to sit in your chair, you noticed her take a seat next to bakugou.
the bell rang, & in rolled your sleepy teacher, mr. aizawa. he called roll, held an hour long lecture while you took notes, then assigned a 4-page essay with three sites sources. after he was done, he questioned, "now that we're done with that, what is happening today?"
iida's hand shot up along with his entire body.
"go ahead, iida."
"the 1a students from ketsubutsu academy are training with us today." oh right, you completely forgot about that. you were not in the mood to socialize with those uptight, cocky rich kids today. even though you took the melatonin gummies the night before to ensure a goods night sleep, you got everything but that. you felt like you were melting all night, & now you just felt restless.
"good, iida is correct," mr. aizawa confirmed. "they're already waiting in training facility a, so get dressed & be there in 10 minutes."
"yes sir!" & they all scurried out of the classroom.
your entire class entered the facility in their hero costumes. like mr. aizawa said, the visiting students were already there, stretching & warming up. mr. aizawa, once he noticed his entire class, announced that on the white board was everyone's names & assigned training group for the day.
everyone, including the other class, crowded around the board to find their names. "y/n!" your best friend, who you were extremely pissed off at, cheered. "we're all in the same group!" we... all?
you look at uraraka to see who she was referring to. "it's just my luck," you groaned, of course it was bakugou. "i just had to be put in a group with you!" you wanted to shout at everyone. you wanted to shout at uraraka for being swooned by a creep, you wanted to yell at mr. aizawa for putting you in a group with bakugou, & you wanted to scream, jump, yell, & hit bakugou over the head with a bat just for being the aggravating, prideful bastard he is.
"we just had to have a weak fuckin' nerd in your group?" he said to uraraka, but glanced to his side to meet your eye. your fuming expression really got him going. "there's no one more annoying than you-"
"are you y/n?" someone questioned. that just be the last person in your group.
you looked up at him, & with a half-hearted smile, you said, "i am."
"nice, i'm in your group," he told you, "i'm yo shindo. & i must admit, i was not excited for this whole group training thing until i saw a pretty girl like you was in my group."
oh, so he was a flirt? honestly, you didn't mind at all; you needed something to distract you & what's a better distraction than a buff playboy?
"honestly me too, but i think it'll be fun with you," you said back, but you overthought what you said. was it cringy?
bakugou was watching the whole exchange, brows furrowed, vein popping through his skin on his forehead. uraraka noticed, & because with the new-found knowledge that bakugou really liked her, she stroked his arm & asked, "are you okay?"
he looked at her with the same look of anger, now mixed with discomfort, & shrugged her off. "yeah, i'm fine."
he turned his attention back to you & shindo. bakugou's hands sparked ever so suddenly when he took in the scene in front of him. you were eating up all of shindo's praises & brags. your hands tried to squeeze around his biceps but you just couldn't connect your hands. "wow, your muscles are so big~ you must be strong."
"of course i am, i gotta be so i can impress pretty girls like you after all," he winked at you. for a moment, you glanced at bakugou, feeling his harsh glare, & he looked like he was about to explode. you didn't know why though, doesn't he have what he wanted already? he has uraraka right there, & yet he's still mad at you. he still owes you your journal too, so the two of you were not on good terms.
"sorry, i didn't mean to get carried away," you told shindo, pulling your hands away.
as the two of you walked towards uraraka & bakugou, shindo said, "i don't mind, you can touch me wherever, whenever."
you couldn't help but laugh out loud. "god, you're such a flirt!"
"you seem to love it though-"
"y/n, would you stop being a hoe for one second & train like you're supposed to?" bakugou said to you, hands stuffed inside his pockets, looking so nonchalant. you blinked a moment, & you waited for uraraka to say something or to rush by your side. she didn't do any of that
all she said was, with a giggle & eyes staring at bakugou, "that was mean." yeah, it was. it really was. the tips of your ears burned in humiliation, your palms became sweaty, & your breathing was uneven. after uraraka was done ogling bakugou, she looked at you, & her eyes widened. never in her entire childhood friendship did she see that expression on your face.
"dude, i don't know who think you are, but don't talk to her like that," shindo said, stepping forward & slightly in front of you. your tense shoulders relaxed just a bit-- someone is in your corner.
the amused bakugou turned pissed off when your new, little boy-toy went to your rescue, even though he knew you didn't need rescuing. "h-hey, let's save it for training, yeah-"
"i'll talk to y/n however i want, damn weak fuck," bakugou replied, copying his movements & stepping forward. "you're just like her: fucks anything that moves, huh?"
"bakugou-"
"that's it!" you shouted as you shoved bakugou away from shindo. the three of them -bakugou, uraraka, & shindo- were shocked to say the least. he pushed you too far all for entertainment & some obsession. "you're such a goddamn coward, you know that? all you are is a bully who's play-pretending to be a hero! you're such a control freak that, even after you stole my best friend, you still need to have something over me, so you won't give me back my stupid journal. & worst of all, you just stare & glare & act like i'm scum when you're the actual piece of shit! & you're not even ashamed! you want everyone to know! i hate you so much!"
after your tangent/rant, you walked away, quirk firing left & right. you didn't need to hear whatever bakugou was going to say next, it was probably be something so degrading that winds up in her next journal entry.
the three of the gawked at you, watching you walk straight to the state-of-the-art punching bags. uraraka was the first to speak. "i'll talk to her. i've never seen her that... mad. it was like she was a whole new person-"
"you guys are terrible classmates. there was no reason to say any of that. i'll go talk with her," shindo cut uraraka off. before either of them could do anything, bakugou was already strutting towards you, gauntlets sparking.
"who does she think she is?" they heard him utter. they were out of earshot, however, when he said, "making me fuckin' hard then walking away. damn tease."
he caught up to you in no time. you were almost to the punching bags when he grabbed your wrist, his hand was warm & a stinging sensation engulfed your wrist.
uraraka & shindo watched as the two of you screamed at each other, you shoving him, him glaring at you, you throwing a piece of your costume at him. honestly, it would've been comedic if it wasn't for bakugou pressing your buttons.
"what are they? toxic exes or something?" shindo questioned as they began to walk towards the fighting two.
"oh, no, not at all! i would've known," uraraka told him, "they're just... um... friends i think. maybe enemies."
"i can tell that much."
when the actual training began, you & bakugou tried to separate from each other. you were paired with shindo & him with uraraka. but, because of the conditioning & the way today's training was set up, it was inevitable that you two would interact again.
like at lunch, the two of you sat across each other at a table, eating your lunches. you didn't bother speaking, you didn't even want to see bakugou ever again, after all.
or at the water fountain, when he said, "hurry up." & so you took longer, even though you weren't thirsty anymore.
or when you had to rotate partners & bakugou was your only option. the two of you, against the rules, threw quirk-backed attacks each other.
& that's how you two ended up being excused early. while everyone else was getting better, you were locked out & forced to change back into your school uniform, & the only person with you was bakugou.
when you left the changing room, he was leaning against the wall-- almost like he was waiting for you. "you done being mad at me?"
"no, i'm not, & i'll never stop being mad at you," you said, walking right past him. he followed close behind you.
"listen, i didn't mean to embarrass you. i didn't know you'd get so pissy."
"what did you think was gonna happen?!"
"i don't know, okay?" the two of you were yelling at this point.
"you have ochaco, can you please just give me my journal & leave me alone? you two can be happy far, far away from me," you said, cursing yourself for choking up. you mentally prepared for the teasing & "witty" comebacks bakugou had in store.
instead, he asks, "are you jealous?"
"what?"
"are you jealous?"
you scoffed, opening the door to the dorm building. "don't flatter yourself, big guy."
"i'm being serious," he said to you as he leaned on the counter. you were so hungry that you didn't really care bakugou was watching you cook. "because i was."
"what are you getting at, bakugou?" you asked, putting a pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a boil.
"i was so jealous today," he said.
"of what?"
"of damn shindo kid," he responded back. your angered expression contorted into a puzzled one as you looked up at him. when you didn't reply, he continued, "if i knew stupid one liners got your attention, i would've been doing that sooner."
you couldn't believe what you were hearing. the guy who's been making the past few months hell was confessing something you never expected. "what about ochaco, hm? i thought you needed her to breath or something."
"yeah, i guess i liked her at first, & that's why i needed your help," he admitted. he then fished a journal, your journal, out of his bag & stood up. he walked towards you, hand outstretched with your beloved diary in his grasp. you reached out for it when he lifted it above your head with a taunting smirk. "but then i realized that i wanted you this entire time."
--nsfw starts here--
"you're just saying stupid things to get a rise out of me, bakugou," you rolled your eyes at him. you placed a hand on his chest as you jumped for your journal, fingers touching it ever so lightly. it was just out of reach.
you thought you had it, he brought the notebook down. however, you didn't have it. he threw it on the counter behind you, & the hand the was holding it snakes around your waist. his other hand grabbed your face, stroking your cheek as he kissed you.
you don't know why, but you found your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. without breaking your lips apart, he pushed you against the counter, pinning you between his two arms now. his tongue, the tongue that craved you since that unknown night, licked your lips before fighting yours for dominance. his thigh was between your legs. he pressed your core against him, & you moaned.
bakugou shut off the burner during your kiss. he was expecting the two of you to escape into his room, but when you threw off his tie & unbuttoned his shirt eagerly, he knew he needed you right then & there.
the two of you broke your kiss, & he placed his head in the crook of your neck. "you get off on making me jealous, don't you? that's why you were flirting with stupid shindo?"
"wh-whatever, you jerk. you act like you weren't basically grinding on ochaco in front of me all the time?"
bakugou laughed into the nape of your neck. "grinding? all we did was talk."
"same fuckin' thing," you growled in frustration.
"i didn't know you were so jealous of her."
"oh, fuck off, asshole," you said. you were quickly shut up by him biting your sensitive spots all over your neck, sucking & licking to create hickeys.
he took off your tie & ripped open your shirt. he unhooked your bra, throwing it god knows where. "take this fuckin' thing off," he uttered, helping you out of your torn clothes.
"h-hey!"
"shut up, & take it. i'll buy you a new one," he said before fondling your breasts. you bit your lip as your grinded against his meaty thigh. your wetness, even though you had panties on, began staining his slacks.
"bakugou~" you whispered, voice shaking.
"it's katsuki tonight, dummy," he told you, turning you around & bending you over the counter. you brushed your journal out of the way as you pressed you tits onto the cold, granite countertop.
with three fingers, he pinched your pussy through your panties so his middle one snuck in between your lips. "stop being a tease & fuck me already." if only you knew.
"be patient, woman," scowled katsuki, smacking your ass. he set of small sparks when he hit your cheek. "you can't take this cock yet. i'm doing you a goddamn favor."
you doubted him, you really did. he was so cocky & arrogant, how could you not? "i can take your tiny dick any day, don't underestimate me."
katsuki let out a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "you really think so, dumb bitch?" he unclicked his belt, dropping his pants & boxers around his ankles. he started to grind against your ass, & you swore up & down it felt like deja vu.
you gasped as you felt his length between your ass. you've had dreams about cocks that big, sure, but you didn't know they actually existed. "wh-what the fuck?"
"what? still think you take me? still think i'm tiny, sweetheart?" katsuki taunted as he took off your panties. he pressed your thighs around his cock, the base of it stimulating your swollen clit. he thrusted gently; it was so against his brash, aggressive character.
you were not one to back down, so at least you stayed true to your character. "yeah, i can take your skinny ass dick-" you were cut off by katsuki spreading your ass & shoving his girthy length into your throbbing heat. you screamed, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to adjust to him.
he wouldn't let you though. katsuki, once inside your tight pussy, started pounding you. he shoved his cock head into your g-spot over & over, making you quiver & pulsate around him. "sl-sl-slow d-down!" you begged between thrusts. in response, he pulled your head back with your hair. you arched uncomfortably; your pelvis was still against the edge of the counter, but your head was pulled so far back that you could see katsuki's face.
"you think you're all that? you think you can just flirt with all these other guys in front of me? you fuckin' slut," he spat into your mouth, not that it mattered since it mixed with your drool & fell out of your mouth & onto your cold body. "i own you now. i own this mouth, i own this pussy, i own this ass, i own you."
"f-f-"
"c'mon, pathetic whore. say it."
"fuck y-you, katsuki." oh, you were a brat through & through clearly.
katsuki has had enough of your retaliation. you were supposed to be a brainless bimbo begging for more, yet here you were, surprising him again. any bit of consciousness you had, he was going to fuck out if you.
he, without pulling out, let go of your hair & made you stand up. he grabbed both your legs & hoisted you into this air. his hands found their way behind your head, & you couldn't move. you were nothing more than a cum dumpster to him now. "you know, if anyone walks through that door, they're gonna see you folded in half, tears streaming down your face with my cock balls deep in your dripping pussy, & they'd realize how much of a slut you are, & they'd know that you're all mine."
you didn't mean to, but your pussy clenched around his cock tighter as more of your juices squirted onto the linoleum floor. "oh, you like that, princess?"
you moaned in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he praised you. "aw, how pathetic. you must love when i call you cute nicknames & tell you how good you're doing." with whatever head movement you had, you nodded.
"that's a shame because you've been nothing but dirty, i can't treat you like a good girl until you deserve it."
"p-please! i'll do anything!" you cried out, then you started twitch uncontrollably around him. a white, hot wave of pleasure washed over you as you creamed all over his cock. he wasn't done yet, he still abused your cervix, making you beg for him to stop, or at least slow down.
his thrusts turned rapid as he started to groan about how you were all his, how he wasn't going to let any other man look at you, how he would be the only one you ever think about. you knew that was all true. "y/n, you fuckin' bitch, i hate you & your pretty, little face. take it all," he yelled as he unloaded his load into your tight pussy.
you screamed in overwhelming pleasure, squirting all over him once again. the two of you caught your breaths. he set you down once his cock finally stopped twitched, & he spun you around to embrace you. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i promise i'll be the best boyfriend in the world, just give me a chance. i know we're enemies or whatever, but i don't wanna be that anymore, & i don't want to be whatever this is; just fucking like we hate each other then go our separate ways." you've never seen this side of katsuki before.
"i-i'd like that, i'd like to be your girlfriend."
you hated him. you hated how he made you feel. you hated how he infected your mind, how he ruined you for any other man. you hated how you knew you needed him.
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kasagia · 2 months
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Game of survival
Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!rebel! reader Summary: The worst enemy is the person who betrayed you when you trusted them with all your heart. The person you told all your secrets to, the person you loved more than your life—the best friend who suddenly turned on you and stabbed you in the back and right through your heart, using your weaknesses they learned with the time they spent with you. You and Coriolanus have been each other's worst enemies since that fateful day at the lake in District 12... Inspired by: Game of survival - Ruelle Warning: 18+; a little smut; Coriolanus chases you around his presidential palace; I had a completely different idea for it, but it turned out that way...; Enjoy!; Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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You hold your breath as you sit on the roof of a building.
Through Sniper Rifle, you watch carefully as the president of Panem gets out of his car. You only see the outline of his bleached blonde hair before he disappears into his presidential palace. The car drives away, and peacekeepers start circulating around the building again. An impregnable fortress. Seemingly.
"I hope you have a plan." Joseph mumbles next to you, moving into position next to you. "We must act quickly tonight. Get in and out before the peacekeepers find out what are we going to do."
"First, you have to shoot him. I won't leave there without seeing the life drain from his eyes." You reply, preparing to leave the roof.
"Do not worry about it. Everyone would like to be in my place. I don't miss the target." He replies confidently, with an arrogance in his voice that you don't like. But you won't lecture him. The other hunter never liked being told how to do his job. You caught animals; he caught real people. He had more experience in this area than you. But could Coriolanus still be considered human?
"That's not what I'm thinking about. It's a game of survival. Him or us. You have to play it smart. Don't underestimate him just because he's from the Capitol, Jospeh."
"I bet he didn't even hold a gun in those well-groomed hands of his." You shudder. The screams of Sejanus and Lucy Gray echo in your head. Coriolanus' screams. The sounds made by mockingjays...
"I doubt it." You answer briefly and go out to the staircase.
You pass through several of its inhabitants before reaching the basement. Before you open one of the rooms, you look around to make sure you are alone in the residential basements. You quickly open and close the door behind you. You move the painting, some kind of marriage portrait of a general and his wife, and go through a hidden passage. It was a tunnel dug under the building, which led to a small room where the most important members of the rebellion slept. The rest were to arrive during the day. For a special evening event.
"You need to be more careful." Meg tells you as you return to base. "The peacekeepers seem to be breeding in their barracks. I saw twice as many of them on the streets as yesterday. And guess what?"
She slaps her hand flat on the table. You walk up and lean down, seeing the wanted poster for you. Alive, not dead. Whoever turned you in would get a ridiculous amount of money.
"I have a nicer jaw shape." You comment and pick up the wanted poster. You throw it in the air and aim the dagger at it, nailing it to the earthy wall of your shelter.
"I don't know what you did to Snow, but even his advisor, who ran his presidential campaign and defected to join us, isn't so... passionately wanted by him and his men as you are." She says, wincing when she can't get the dagger out of the wall. You roll your eyes and walk over to her, pulling out the dagger easily and handing it to her with a mocking smile.
"Old disagreements and a minor difference of opinion." You tell her, walking over to the map of the Capitol and the plan of the presidential palace. "I doubt he even remembers why he's so pissed at me. That was ages ago. 10 years. Maybe more. But as you can see, bastards like him hold grudges for a long time."
"People gossip, you know. That you are not suitable for this job. That you had some feelings for him that would make you hesitate to pull the trigger when necessary." She says, walking towards you. She places her hand on your back, making you look at her. "If you don't want to, don't say it. But I need to be completely sure that you won't betray us."
"I'm not the one who is supposed to kill him. We have Jospeh to do that. But believe me, if necessary, my hand won't shake. I am a hunter. My job is to kill. And an animal like him is well within my hunting range. He... he has done too much for me to feel sorry for him. And believe me, if anyone has a reason to kill him, it's me. I have something to take revenge for. So if you don't trust me, then trust my rage. After all, there is nothing like a mad woman, is there?" You ask, sending her a meaningful smirk.
And even though you pretend to be so confident in front of her and any other rebels, deep down, you know that it's not all that simple. Things between you and Coriolanus... were complicated. And anyone else in your situation would hate him with all their hearts, but you couldn't just stop loving him. Maybe you were actually weak, but if you learned anything from Coroilanus Snow, it was how to pretend to be stronger than others. Even when you were in a shitty situation.
"Good. Prepare yourself. We start at dusk. For the Districts."
"And for all the fallen. Let the odds be forever dead." You finish.
Meg nods and leaves you alone with the maps and plans. Your task was simple. Sneak through the guests at a masquerade party, get into his office, and plant a bomb. Just in case. Only if Joseph hadn't managed to kill him. You were also supposed to set a few other traps for President Snow. And since you were the best hunter in Panem, there was no one better for that job.
You've been preparing for this for months. You have figured out all the escape routes, emergency exits, peackeeper patrols, and their plans to secure the reception at the presidential palace.
Tonight, everything will be resolved, your past will be finally a closed past, whether you want it or not.
Either he or you will die tonight. And if you were sure about something, you were sure that you wouldn't pass away so easily.
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You never expected that Coriolanus Snow would become your worst enemy.
Or at least that's what you think as you drive through the Capitol. You sit in the backseat, staring at the streets and people passing by, as your chauffeur and fellow rebel take you to your destination.
Ever since Lucy Gray returned from the Hunger Games, she has been praising her mentor. She said that the boy she met gave her invaluable support and help, and that if it weren't for him, she wouldn't have survived on her own in the arena.
Her stories make you imagine him as an angel. Blond curls, sky blue eyes, helping a poor girl from the district, a man with a good heart—everything fit. And you were confirmed in that belief when you saw him for the first time and realised how handsome he really was.
How were you supposed to know then that Coriolanus Snow was really an angel, but a fallen one? How could you recognise the devil through the disguise he had created for himself?
You were certainly not the first or the last to fall under his spell, to believe in the façade of a good man, to see him as a hurt boy who needed love and tenderness. At least you wanted to believe you weren't the only one naive enough to ignore all the clues and signs that he wasn't such a saint after all.
It started inconspicuously. Like all disasters. And you, having lived in District 12 for so long, knew very well what bad fate, misfortune, and catastrophe were.
But nothing could have prepared you for the coming of Coriolanus Snow.
He was charming. Oh God, and how much he was. Sejanus didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, but Snow picked up on every little detail, no matter how insignificant it may have been at first sight. Lucy Gray fell into Plinth's arms. And you became infatuated with a devil who seemed to be as observant as you.
"Lucy Gray's friends are my friends." The brunette guy says that and takes a step forward. You shift your cautious gaze to him, but he doesn't seem to notice that you're wary and reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Sejanus. Nice to meet you."
"Y/N." You say, removing your hand from his grip. "I used to say that too. And then she took me to feed her snakes. The poisonous ones. The worst 3 minutes of my life."
"3 minutes?" He asks curiously. You notice someone moving behind him—another man—who is whispering something to Lucy.
"She ran away screaming." Your friend giggles and throws her arm on Sejanus' shoulder. You roll your eyes at her as she laughs at you, not hiding the smile that begins to form on your lips.
"That's not true. I didn't scream. I saw a rabbit and went hunting." You mutter, feigning offence, which only intensifies her laughter.
"A hunter who is afraid of snakes?"
Someone's question distracts you from Lucy Gray. Behind her, you notice the man who was whispering something to her earlier. He steps out of her shadow and stands a few steps away from you. You look him up and down, and by the way Lucy is comfortable with the other peacekeeper and his appearance, you assume he must be her mentor. Coriolanus Snow. And damn her, he was really hot.
"I am afraid of what I have to be afraid of, private Snow. Just like a hunter should. You never know when the danger will come that you will turn from a predator to a prey." He watches you carefully, listening to your every word. And by the small smile he can't contain, you know that you've managed to make him curious and defend yourself enough for him not to discredit you.
"It's Coryo when we are among friends." He says this, nodding at you. He does not extend his hand to you like Sejanus did, nor does he attempt any other greeting that requires physical contact. Weird. You wonder if he would be attentive enough to sense your discomfort.
"We should get going. The Covey is probably waiting for us. Will you come tomorrow? I think we have a lot to talk about." The brunette asks them with a smile and stands on your other side, taking your arm.
"Su..."
"We will escort you." Coriolanus interrupts his friend, still looking at you. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you. There are... quite a lot of people hanging around here tonight." His gaze shifts to Lucy Gray for a moment, and he nods for her to lead.
"He may be a rebel, but he is also chivalrous. Come then, gentlemen." She laughs and places her other hand on the crook of Sejanus' elbow. Coriolanus adjusts and walks on your other side, maintaining an appropriate distance, so he is close but not touching you or brushing his arm against yours.
At one point, the crowd of people won't let you walk four in a row, so Lucy and Sejanus take the lead. You and Coryo follow behind them, a little apart. There's a strange silence between you. You shift your gaze to his, and you see that he is already watching you.
"I think I should thank you for saving her. It's not that easy to keep that tramp out of danger. And believe me, I know what I'm saying; I've known her since we were children."
"Yes, she is very… alive. But that was just my job as her mentor." He says this as you both walk down the dark streets. The moonlight and a few lanterns illuminate it so much that you can walk freely in the dark without tripping over any protruding stones.
"Was it also your duty to become a peacekeeper and come to 12?" Your question clearly surprises him. He didn't expect anyone to connect... the events or have the courage to ask him about it. Lucy Gray didn't do it. But you weren't Lucy Gray. You were better. And he was starting to see it.
"It wasn't... planned." He says this and clears his throat, looking at Lucy Gray and Sejanus laughing together about something. "But I'm not going to stay here long."
"Did you come here for her or for him?" You ask, seeing his jaw clench as he watches them both.
"None. I just had to do it." He responds dryly, clearly not wanting to talk about it further. You didn't know who he was jealous of, but you could recognise that feeling in others' eyes perfectly. And he was definitely jealous. You only wondered about what. About Lucy Gray, Sejanus, or just about what was between them?
"A lonely wolf. I see." You comment and turn your head towards the Hanging Tree.
Coriolanus takes the opportunity to get a better look at you. You don't have an outfit as bold and colourful as Lucy Gray. You were rather quiet and thoughtful. He couldn't' say that he wasn't captivated by the aura that his former tribute had around her, but he somehow found himself feeling better in the silence between the two of you than he ever felt around Lucy Gray and her wild personality.
You had also really beautiful eyes.
"And what about you?" He asks, wanting to get your attention again.
At first, he stayed close to you just to spite Lucy Gray, but after she obviously ignored him, he had no intention of talking to you anymore. But something about you drew him to you. And maybe it was your caution; maybe he wanted to break it and set it as a challenge, a distraction while he was in District 12, or maybe he just wanted attention? He did not know. It irritated him how much he wanted to see your eyes sparkling teasingly in the lamplight again. 
"Me?" You looked up at him, giving him your full attention. He almost smiled. Almost.
"Are you remaining here for her or for someone else? I know there is a need for good hunters in many other and better districts. Why are you stuck here when you could be hunting somewhere else? Have a better place to live?" He asks, unable to understand you.
You obviously didn't feel comfortable in District 12. No one could. And he knew from Lucy Gray's histories and his brief observation of your actions that someone like you, with your skills, could easily get a transfer to a wealthier district. But you didn't. He wanted to know why.
"What if I like it here?" You ask with a shrug. He frowns, looking around. You are passing by mouldy buildings, some houses are made of ood—you say it while they walk down the poorest alley in 12. Coriolanus believes he saw a rat running in front of you, but he doesn't want to think about it.
"Here?" He asks with disbelief and a hint of disgust in his voice, to which you giggle, almost laughing.
And instead of Coriolanus being offended and threatening you (he's a peacekeeper after all; he could make you spend a day in detention, and if you were anyone else, he definitely would do that), but somehow Snow can't do anything but smile, while admiring you.
However, he takes his eyes off you, even though he's tempted to look at you longer. He can't afford to have another weakness. To have another Lucy Gray. Although he doesn't think you'd push him away that easily for Sejanus or anyone else, like she did.
You and he were similar. Both of you were withdrawn, silent, observers, taking into account the threats. You did not play heroes with bravado and did not count on good luck, only on their own minds and skills.
"No, not here. I am not mad yet." You say, snapping him from his thoughts."The forests are beautiful. The fields. Rivers and lakes. The rest of Panem is industrialized. Concrete and factories everywhere. There is... a kind of peace here if you close your eyes to certain things. Maybe you will stay here long enough to find out about it by yourself." And something about you—the warm tone of your voice and the sparkles in your eyes as you talk about your favourite places—makes Coriolanus feel a sudden urge to stay here for a while—just as you suggested. Since he was going to be here for a while anyway, he might as well have some fun... right?
"I could use a guide." He says this before he can even think about it, as he sees Lucy Gray slowing down, obviously getting closer to your house.
He didn't know why he cared so much about seeing you again. You were nothing. Just a district hunter. He would leave the 12, find a way to get back to the Capitol, and forget about everything that brought him here. But damn, that little smile of yours made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He was pathetic. And he hated himself for it.
"I can be one."
"Aren't you afraid that people will see you with the peacekeeper?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked by his words. "I saw you looking around. Don't worry. She specifically directs us to streets that are... less frequented." He reveals his observations to you, and for the first time since you two introduced yourself, he sees that the note of fear and caution has disappeared from your eyes for a moment.
Your curious look causes him to have heart palpitations. That was weird for him. Maybe he was sick? He just hoped he hadn't caught anything from those bar rats.
"You really are perceptive, aren't you?" You ask, and he shivers, feeling your analytical gaze on him.
Coriolanus can't say he doesn't enjoy the thrill of excitement as you both try to solve the secrets the other is hiding. Talking to you was… nice. Most of the peacekeepers were as dumb as nails. Muscle mass and nothing else. And he had grown tired of Sejanus's moralising talk a long time ago. Talking to you would be good for him in some way. He wouldn't go completely crazy here. At least that's how he tried to explain to himself his strange and sudden desire to meet you again. And often. Very often.
"I was told so." He says this as you arrive at the door of your house. Coriolanus looks around carefully and is pleased to see that this is one of the better, quieter alleys. He makes a mental note to take more night shifts here. Just to keep an eye on you.
Before you walk into your house with Lucy Gray, you turn to look at him one last time.
"Well, I hope you won't miss the Capitol too much... Coryo." And when his nickname leaves your lips, he knows that this won't be the last time he sees you.
He watches as the door closes behind the two of you, taking in the last sight of you. He returns with Sejanus to their unit, completely ignoring his chatter about Lucy Gray as he thinks about you. Over time, he will find that he will do this more and more often. Thinking about you.
But neither of you knows how much you will regret this night in the future.
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You walk up the stairs of the presidential palace wearing a beautiful white dress. Your mask fits to the top of your face, revealing only your mouth, chin and part of your jaw. You feel terrible, but you have to somehow blend in with the crowd of rich assholes who are enjoying their president's birthday party while district children tremble at the thought of the upcoming 22nd Hunger Games.
The only thought that comforts you is that he will die before dawn. And that you can have a glass of champagne.
You give your cloak and fake invitation to some peacekeeper the poor avox who are waiting at the entrance to serve everyone gathered. It makes you want to vomit when you think about how the man you let touch yourself became such a monster who decided to sew their mouths shut instead of cutting out their tongues.
Of course, with a red thread.
You go deeper into the room. You try to stay in the crowd, not on the outskirts, so as not to catch anyone's eye and so HE won't be able to see you. It may have been 12 years, but you're not sure if he forgot about you enough to not recognise your figure in the crowd. Maybe you tormented his nightmares as much as he tormented yours. You hoped to. Bastard didn't deserve to sleep soundly like a baby.
You're standing in a group of people, listening and laughing at the stories being told, and you're about to excuse yourself and browse around the big villa a bit and place some of the traps when suddenly you hear a tapping on a glass. You turn around with the rest of the people, making sure you're neither in the front nor the last row.
You freeze as Coriolanus' voice echoes through the room.
You have prepared for this moment many times. You predicted thousands of different scenarios for your first meeting, after... that special, rainy day at the lake when you went your separate ways. And you thought you were ready to bear the sight of him. But as soon as you look up at him, you feel your heart beat nervously. And not in that exciting way when you see your prey and are ready to attack.
As you sing a forced 'Happy Birthday' with other people after his speech, you allow yourself to steal one brief glance at him. He looks different.
More mature. More dangerous. Stronger. Powerful.
The golden mask, the only one of its kind in the room, covering his nose and just a small part of his face, the part around his eyes and eyebrows, only emphasises this more clearly.
And the red colour of his suit, along with all his... dominant attitude that emanates from him, are enough evidence of the red flag he was that you didn't notice when he was a peacekeeper in a blue uniform. His hair is longer and slicked back with gel, emphasising his rough, hard jawline and piercing blue, icy eyes. The man who stood in the middle of the room was dangerous. So much so that you felt nervous, thinking about how the hell you were going to kill him today.
You had a plan, but you knew that in every pursuit of prey, there were risks that could not be predicted. When hunting a bear, you don't face it with all your strength. You are waiting for the moment to attack. And now, looking at Coriolanus Snow in all his glory, you began to have doubts about your plan and the abilities of the other rebels. Maybe you will have to play the first violin this evening and aim a gun at him yourself. You shiver at even the thought of it.
And then his eyes find yours. For a very short while, but enough to make you shiver under his glance.
He blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to something or someone else. You feel a lump building in your throat, the words of the song being forced out of your mouth with a more and more trembling voice. He recognised you. Or not. You did not know. His subsequent actions didn't indicate it, but he had been staring at you for far too long to be sure of anything.
You don't like how quickly you're losing control.
That's why you leave at the first opportunity, hiding in the bathroom upstairs. You wait for the peacekeeper patrol to pass, and when they go to the second floor, you start setting up traps at the different spots of the presidential palace. You decide to forget about the events from a few minutes ago for a moment. Only peace will save you. You know about it. That's why you do everything to forget about his icy irises.
Well, at least until you have to go back to the ballroom again.
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"A little higher." He whispers in your ear behind you, his hand wrapped around yours, as you aim his shotgun at the deer. "Eyes open, breath held, muscles tense."
You shoot and hit the animal. The gun bounces slightly, but Coriolanus holds you close and tight enough that you barely change your position, only trembling slightly as the gun clicks off.
"I prefer arrows, but thanks for showing me how to use it." You say cheekily as you approach the deer you have aimed perfectly at.
He shakes his head at you, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He watches you as you kneel next to the deer, preparing it to be carried to the district.
"You know, my teachings aren't free." He says this as you get up and walk towards the river to wash your hands. He takes the deer's body and obediently follows you.
He had the day off today and decided to use it to spend time with you. Lately, he's been running away from everyone more and more often to walk in the forest with you. You were talking and fooling around. Coriolanus has never felt so... free as with you. He could get used to this. If he hadn't experienced the comforts of the Capitol. He knew you would get used to the capital. Maybe he'd even let you go on little trips and escapades in the woods once he got back there with you as his wife. Of course, only with him. And with peacekeepers guarding you two, he didn't want to end up like his father.
"Isn't it?" You ask with that mischievous smile of yours, washing your hands in the river. "And here I thought you were noble, private Snow."
"Stop it." He growls menacingly as you don't call him by a nickname he loved to hear from your lips. But you can see by the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. A smile spreads across your face as you continue fooling around.
"Only that? You know that I love to tease you too much to just stop..." He cuts you off mid-sentence, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.
You freeze for a moment, feeling his lips brush against yours and his hand run through the back of your hair. Even if you wanted to pull away from him, you couldn't because of the way he wrapped his hands around you. You should feel trapped and outraged by his behaviour, by the fact that he didn't ask for your permission or leave you the chance to pull away. But all you could do then was grab him by his dog tag and pull him closer to you.
You moan into his mouth as you find out that kissing Coriolanus Snow is the most pleasurable thing in the world.
You place your hands on either side of his neck as he grabs your waist gently, pressing your bodies as close to each other as possible. His lips caress yours gently at first, testing the waters. When he sees that you're not pulling away from him, he deepens the kiss, completely taking over the control that, surprisingly, you willingly give him. You've never been kissed like this in your life. So desperate, so needy, so possessive. And you know that you will never feel this way with anyone else in your life.
And for the first time, you have the opportunity to feel that moment that has been repeated so often in books—kissing someone until you have no more oxygen left in your lungs. Because before him, no one wanted you enough to give you half the sensations that Coriolanus gave you. And you suspected that he felt the same.
"I had this type of payment in mind." He whispers hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, giving you the opportunity to admire his face up close. And god, he's perfect. In all his ounces, you can't even imagine how ethereal he must have been in the Capitol. (The perfect devil, tempting you until you fall.)
"Oh... um... well... be careful… with such a low payment you may be… taken advantage of by some girls." You manage to gasp, gathering the remnants of your mind that weren't occupied with the thought of him and the heavy breathing he was taking because of you.
"There is only one girl in this terrible, musty place, for whose special attention I can get anything she whishes." He says this, opening his eyes and cupping your cheek tenderly. And if your nature were any different (or if he would use a little more of his charm on you), you would melt under his touch, but you couldn't resist the opportunity he gave you.
"Anything, you say..." You mutter in mock thought with a smirk. And all Corilanus can do is smirk stupidly when he sees the familiar spark of malice in your eyes.
He enjoyed challenges, and he liked it even more when he beat you every time in your 'little fights and teasing'. He liked that you weren't completely submissive and that you could fight and banter with him instead of trembling in fear and trusting him blindly. You were almost his equal. Not that he was searching for one. But of all the girls, he knows you were the closest to his perfection. He just needed to work on your compliance a little bit before he could take you with him to the Capitol. After all, you couldn't tease him in public.
"Don't tease." He warns, humming as well, a smirk blooming on his lips despite his attempts to fight it off. He could afford a little... frivolity in the district. He would act completely differently in the Capitol, but for now, he enjoyed every carefree moment with you he could get. He couldn't remember the last time he had had to worry about the opinion of society.
"Oh, but that's the funniest thing to do now..." You continue with a smirk, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. He accepts it with a smile that quickly fades as you pull away from him and run away, laughing.
"And what is this?!" He shouts, running after you.
"A hunting lesson! I won't kiss you for yours in return, Snow!" You reply with a laugh, speeding up.
You ran away from him for an hour until you got tired of it all and ran into him laughing, deciding that he'd had enough of him chasing you for now. He immediately took you into his arms and kissed you, holding you tightly to his chest so that his rapidly beating heart was palpable to you. You placed small kisses on his snout as he held you tightly in his embrace, panting.
"Promise you'll never run away from me. That you'll never leave me." You raise your eyebrows in shock at his request, but you don't question it. You simply nod and press a kiss of promise to his lips as he pushes you against the nearest tree.
Your kiss becomes more feverish, more urgent as you feel his hardness through his peacekeeper uniform. Just a few weeks ago, you would have despised yourself for being so close to him. But it was your Coryo. That's why you don't interrupt him when he unzips your pants and takes them and your underwear off in one move.
You hold your breath as he kneels in front of you and grabs your hips with an iron grip. He presses a kiss on your thighs, teasing you and leaving little bites and bruises there before graciously shifting his attention to where you really need it. You moan, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he slowly circles your clit with his tongue, teasing you to no end. He pushes your hips against the tree every time you try to push against his tongue from a different angle. This frustrates you even more, especially after the gun slung over his shoulder shifts, causing the barrel of the shotgun to dig into your stomach.
"Coryo..." You moan, scratching his head as you try and futilely try to grab his close-cropped hair. He moans at the feeling, stimulating you even more.
He takes pity on you, putting more effort into his work as his fingers start to hit the spot that made you lost your mind. The bark of the tree digs into your back, but all you feel is Coriolanus; your entire world is limited to the movements of his fingers that bring you unimaginable pleasure that cannot be described in any words. All you can do is moan his name, which he finds flattering enough to make you cum around his fingers. Although he had no plan to let you cum when he started to play with your sweet cunt. You were making him too soft for you...
His tongue teases you as he licks along your knee, up your thigh, to stop a few moments before the place where you really needed him to reach your peak of pleasure. He smirks and suddenly bites into your thigh, causing a scream of his name from your lips to echo through the forest. He grunts, licking and sucking the spot on your thigh that he bit, feeling how he hardened in his pants by simply sucking your skin and fingering you. He loved every single sound you made because of him. If tasting you on his lips wasn't as tempting for him as it was for now, he would just kneel there and watch how you kept chasing your orgasm on his fingers.
"Scream for me, my little hunter." He says this and leans forward. His nose teases your clit before he finally licks you, testing your taste. He moans as his favourite flavour spreads across his taste buds. If he had you in the Capitol, he would never starve, he thinks as he begins to fuck you with his tongue, collecting everything that his skillful fingers caused to flow from your little pussy. For him. Because of him. His.
You grip his arms tightly, his gun somehow twisted so that it was pressed against your leg and stomach, but you don't care as he kneels in front of you and sucks the senses out of you through your cunt. You can only moan loudly and scream his name, digging your nails into his shoulders as you pull him closer to you as he makes you come. He licks up everything he gets for his work, leaving nothing to leak from your thighs onto the forest floor.
Coriolanus feels his hardness pressing against his pants, but chooses to ignore it. He won't take you like some district barbarian in the woods. He will do it well. Maybe even in the Capitol... you would look beautiful, wrapped in the most expensive sheets. And while you catch your breath and try to recover, he wonders how he's going to get his little hunter with him back to the Capitol when Dr. Gaul replies to the message he sent her.
He adjusts the gun hanging on his shoulder and stands up, licking his fingers off of the remains of your sweet juices. Unimaginable pride rises in his chest, as does a feeling of possessiveness when he sees your knees shaking and you barely standing, leaning on the tree behind you. He chuckles, remembering the sight. He will definitely think about it, while jerking off himself when he will be alone at the barracks.
"I will always catch you. No matter how long it takes." He says, taking you in his arms when he sees that you're unable to stand on your own in your post-orgasm haze. Another thing that increases his ego.
You didn't know how much that sweet promise would turn out to be a bloodthirsty threat. So you let him carry you through the forest as you both headed back to 12.
The next day, you were delivered money in exchange for the deer you and Private Snow had hunted together. From his superior, Commander Hoff. Even then, he was using you for his own gain.
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"Are you lost, miss?" You stop in your quick steps. You curse internally when you hear his voice in the hall. You were about to go downstairs and go to the ballroom. But no. Coriolanus Snow always had to screw up your job.
"Mr. President." You say, trying to change your tone of voice as you turn around and see him. "I was just looking for a spare bathroom."
"Ah yes. Women's ones seem to be… very crowded. Have you made it, little bathroom hunter, or do you need help?" He asks, walking over to you. He shouldn't be here. Certainly not that close to you. Meg was supposed to focus his attention on her and flirt with him. You didn't know what the hell he was doing on the first floor instead of in the ballroom celebrating his birthday.
And when he called you a hunter, you tried your hardest not to shiver in fear at the thought of him seeing through you. But if he recognised you, would he act so... calm around you? Peacekeepers would probably have surrounded you long ago if he had...
"I did it, Mr. President. Ah! Happy birthday! May you watch over us for a very long time." You wish him well, and he just smiles. This isn't one of his forced, political smiles. No.
It was a wolfish smile, a dangerous one. The one that he had a habit of showing you when he managed to outsmart you tracked you down in the forests of District 12.
"Thank you, my darling. You wouldn't deny a man his birthday wishes, would you?" A shiver runs through you as his irises focus on you. His tone is quieter and darker as he asks you a seemingly innocent question. But you know very well that nothing about Coriolanus Snow is innocent.
"Of course not, Mr. President." You reply courteously, already afraid of what he might want from you.
"Great. May I then?" He asks, sticking out his hand as he asks you to dance with a polite smile (if the devil can wear one).
"With great pleasure." You say, placing your hand in his. Without knowing why, you feel like you're putting it in the mouth of a lion... or in this case, a snake.
He holds your hand tightly as he helps you down the stairs. He doesn't let go of you for a second, and once you reach the dance floor, he wraps his arm around your waist and presses you against him, making you feel all his muscles hidden under his clothes. His eyes also never leave yours, which makes you very uncomfortable. Your anxiety only gets greater as you can't see the faces of the other members of your rebellion in the room.
"Nervous? Don't worry. You dance great." The smirk never leaves his face. And that's the kind of sly smirk. Of course, you dance great. After all, he taught you that himself in District 12.
"Thank you, Mr. President." At one point, the dance requires him to turn you around and press your back against his chest. You shiver as you feel his breath on your neck, then on your ear as he leans down, so he is very close to you.
"Do you think I'm stupid enough not to recognise you, Y/N? That I don't dream about you every night? That I didn't notice you when you and your ridiculous group of district dogs burst into my presidential palace?" You struggle, trying to break free from his grip, but he only grips your hip tighter, enough to surely leave bruises in the form of his fingers.
Coriolanus presses his lips against your temple and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You shiver in his arms at the familiar feeling of his closeness. You feel the gun hidden under his vest press against the back of your back. A tender reminder of how you both were still enemies and a deadly threat to each other.
His hands roam over your body, exploring you as much as he can manage in a crowd of people. But you doubt anyone would dare point out how he presses his crotch against your ass, forcing you to feel every last bit of him as he continues whispering darkly into your ear. "I've been hunting you for so many years... only for you to come running straight to me, as always. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better birthday present. Let's play a game. Our favourite, darling. Try to escape, my little hunter." He hums as he finally lets go of you.
You're not wasting your time.
You don't turn to see him smirking mockingly, to see the way his cheeks have turned slightly pink from the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins, or to see the way the bulge in his pants has become slightly more visible.
You run away from him without looking back, pushing through the crowd of people who are leaving in panic after the announcement that they must leave the villa immediately as a result of the detection of an attempted assassination of the head of state.
But not everything is lost yet.
You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd of people, including Meg and Joseph. And you know that if you want to save your plan and the members of the rebellion, then you have to get Coriolanus' full attention. Make him drop his guard and focus entirely on you.
That's why instead of trying to escpae you stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor.
You watch the crowd of people storming towards the exit. Peacekeepers are pushing through them, some trying to catch the more suspicious ones and interrogate them; everyone is focused on the exit door. So you had to go upstairs. You see Coriolanus slowly walking out of the ballroom. He looks around for you, and when his eyes catch yours, he stops, examining you. You kick off your high heels and run upstairs.
You run forward, hearing the clatter of his shoes close behind you.
You avoid all the traps you have set and hide in one of the rooms. Your feet feel icy from the cool marble you're walking on, but you don't pay much attention to it. Your heart is racing, and you try to breathe as quietly as possible as you hide behind the curtain, listening.
The first thing he does is open all the doors. Of course, carefully and not by himself. He was fully aware that you might have some unpleasant surprises in store for him. He was made very aware of it by one of the peacekeepers who went with him and unlocked the mechanism that caused his beautiful crystal chandelier to fall on the soldier's head.
The maids will have to clean the blood from the white marble again. The next time he renovates the villa, he will have to think about a more... useful floor colour.
"Guard the remaining floors and all exits. Two of you stand by the stairs. I'll take care of this one myself. You go and catch the rest of these street rats." He orders them in a dry tone.
He knows full well that he can fight you alone, and he will do it much better than this bunch of idiots. You weren't just a pure force. You were the mastermind. And only Coriolanus was smart enough to follow your way of thinking and catch you. Just like he always did.
You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps of the peacekeepers spreading across the floor. Only Coriolanus remains. You hear his breathing and his slow, methodical steps. You can imagine him analyzing the hall, looking for traps and potential threats you could prepare for him.
"You know you can't escape, right?" he begins, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the empty, silent corridor. "You've been slipping out of my hands for too long, little hunter. Do you think I don't remember our lessons? That I don't know your systems and customs? I don't know that you packed the entire presidential palace with your little surprises. What a pity that you will never catch me in any of them..."
You hear him enter the room next to you. He drops something to the floor and steps away, closing the door with a bang as the mechanism activates, spreading corrosive gas across the room that was intended to hurt him.
"Really? Such a school trick? I thought you knew better than to test such... childish methods on me, darling. I remember you telling me about something like this after a particular night at your apartment. Can you believe that I remember much better those lessons during which you were moaning and screaming my name?" He chuckles, sinisterly, darkly at the memory.
And then you hear a step. And another one. And another one. Slow, unhurried, and careful. It was so quiet that you wouldn't have heard them if the villa wasn't as quiet as it is now.
He was approaching you slowly and saliently, just as you taught him all those years ago. As usual, he turned out to be a very talented student.
"I never thought you'd be a rebel. After all, you were always so submissive to me... especially under me. And wanting me dead... you know I've killed and turned into Avox for lesser crimes against me and the Panem? But don't worry... your mouth and tongue are too useful for me to take the pleasure they can give away from me ever again."
He starts whistling, checking another room. As you hear him pulling the covers off the bed, you slowly emerge from your hiding place. You take a small step closer to the bathroom and freeze as the floor creaks beneath you.
"Spikes embedded in the mattress? Were you hoping to seduce me and put me on this deathbed? We can always try this... on a less lethal mattress, of course. What would you say, little hunter? Pardon. My sweet rebel?" You close the door quietly behind you and look around the dark room. Window. Maybe if you could open it...
"All these years, and you still use the same perfume." He grunts and closes the door behind him. You shudder, realising that he knows you're in this room. You tighten your hand on the knife hidden in the sleeve of your dress and wait in the cold bathroom for his next steps. "Don't you have a little Deja vu? It reminds me of when you and Lucy Gray ran away from me. That bitch is still hiding. I suspect you don't know where, but you are in contact through some letters or something. As soon as I find her, I will kill her on the spot. I know very well that she was the reason you left me. Don't get me wrong, I'm also angry at you for that... but not as mad as I am at her."
After Sejanus was hanged, he and you planned to escape together. And God, you loved it. You would have sacrificed your whole life for him if it weren't for Lucy Gray, who told you the truth about your beloved devil. So when he came out of the cottage near the lake, worrying about how you had been gone for too long and looking for you with a gun in his hand, you ran away.
"Y/N! Y/N, where are you?! Y/N! Y/N! I will find you! There is no fucking place you can hide from me! Can you hear me, hunter?! NO FUCKING PLACE! YOU ARE MINE! YOU WILL BE ALWAYS MINE! I will mark you like cattle and tie you to my side forever!"
You dream of his screams at some night.
"You promised you wouldn't leave me! You lying bitch!"
You hear his footsteps in the other room as he opens the curtains and checks to see if you're outside the window.
"You think I won't find you?! That you can crawl into a hole that I can't get you out of?! YOU'RE MINE, Y/N! Alive or dead, I don't care! YOU BELONG TO ME!"
You hear him take steps towards the closet, opening it and throwing things out, making sure it's empty. You hear him knocking over several items—the bed, the armchairs. You hold your breath as there is complete silence. He's probably looking at the bathroom door.
You feel your heart beating in your chest just as fast as it did that day when you hid from him as he walked around with a gun, screaming and calling for you. And you almost left. You almost left, wanting to fall into his arms as he kneeled in the middle of the forest and cried, smelling his mother's scarf that he gave you and which was saturated with your scent. But before you could, he screamed and started shooting at the mockingjays in the trees. So you ran away.
And you've been running away since then, hoping that you were a terrible teacher to him and that he would never find you...
"If you leave willingly, I will spare you the unpleasant part, my little rebel. Maybe you can even convince me to forget your transgressions completely… well within reason. However, I suspect that my bed is more comfortable than the floor of a prison cell. Don't you think?"
Maybe if he had used a less mocking tone, if you hadn't heard the pleasure dripping from his voice at his superiority over you and the excitement at catching you, then maybe you would have left willingly. You shake your hand, holding the knife tighter in your hand. No. You wouldn't leave and let him catch you without a fight. He has done too much to you and to other district people to pretend he's not a monster.
"I count to three." You hold your breath, stopping yourself from shaking. The cool air gives you goosebumps as you wait for him to take a step closer to the bathroom's door. "One."
You hear the rustle of fabric; he must have taken off his jacket and probably his mask too. You reach up to your face and untie your own mask, taking it off with a trembling hands.
"Two." Before he enters the room, you hide, so you're standing behind the door, which Coriolanus opens before he counts to three.
Another trick you taught him. Act unpredictably. Don't warn the prey about your next step, and don't let it catch you by surprise.
That's why Coriolanus stands still when he sees the bathroom window open. Your mask lies on the windowsill, taunting him as the moonlight reflects off the silver thread from which it was sewn and glows, tempting him to follow the trail.
That's why, as soon as he comes to the window, you quickly step out from behind the door and close it behind you with a bang.
A moment later, you hear his curses and quick footsteps. You run forward and enter the next room, being careful not to activate any mechanisms. Just as you close the door behind you, you feel him grab the handle on the other side.
In a panic, you do the same and pull the door towards you, wrestling with him. You know it won't get you very far. Coriolanus was stronger than you. He would get inside quickly. You had to think of another way to escape and create distance between you.
"That's enough, Y/N! We had fun, but that's it. You have no way to escape. You know it damn well! Be a good girl and get out." He growls at you, trying to push the door open and get inside.
"So you can kill me?! Hang me like Sejanus?!" You ask angrily, wrestling with him at the door. You feel yourself getting weaker, so you make an instinctive decision. You let go of the door and ran to the window, opening it. You turn around as the door slams shut. You two are standing in the same room again.
You look at each other carefully. You both breathe quickly, analysing each other's possible movements.
"You know I would never hurt you." He starts by taking a small step towards you. You step back to the open window, and he freezes. You may have been on the first floor, but the presidential palace was huge. If you jump out, you will smash into the asphalt and die. And he won't win. Coriolanus cannot afford this. That's why he's standing still for now.
"You killed people. How was I supposed to know I wouldn't be next?" You accuse him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Your mind analyses all the possibilities. You're tempted to jump. Free yourself from him once and for all. Make him lose. Although this time.
"You could have trusted me. Just a little longer."
"Sorry, I have a survival instinct. Very strong survival instinct." You say this, avoiding his gaze. He takes advantage of your distraction and takes a step towards you, which you don't notice because you are too busy thinking of an escape plan.
"Not that big since you came here. For what? To kill me? Will you stab me in the heart, Y/N? Will you shoot me? Will you poison me?"
"You left me no other choice." You growl at him, furious, tightening your grip on the dagger.
"You don't want to do this. I know you. If you really wanted me to fall into a trap, you'd make it so that I couldn't move my damn foot an inch without activating something. So I'll ask again. Why did you come here?"
You do not know. Really. You can't answer his question.
Because... Yes, you hated him. And yes, you despised him. And yes, you were afraid of the monster he had become. But nothing could change the fact that, deep down, you loved him. You cried hundreds of tears because of him, which ricocheted off the walls of the wall you so eagerly built around yourself and your stupid hearth so no one else would be able to hurt you again. You didn't let anyone else get to know you. Not like Coriolanus did. He was the only one who saw the real you. The part of you that you were so afraid to show anyone else or to even look at them by yourself.
"Y/N. Look at me." It's not a request. This is a command. Subtle, but still. And you know, that's all he'll give you. Commands, expectations.
Never look your prey in the eyes. The first rule you taught him. The only one he always broke.
Maybe because of sadism? Maybe he enjoyed watching realisation shine in his victims' eyes as they realised he was winning. But you can't resist following his command and looking into those icy irises you once knew so well.
Or maybe he really cared about you more than anyone else. You'd like to believe that.
"I can give you everything. The whole world. All you have to do is trust me." He says, taking a few steps closer to you. You bite your lip. You can try to run away, but you know he will catch you. You weren't on your own turf. And he had a hundred tracking dogs, ready to find you. Crook.
"Trust you? After everything you've done?" You mock him. But he doesn't answer. There is perfect silence in the room.
Before you know it, he runs towards you. He activates the mechanism, causing a crossbow arrow to pierce his arm. He ignores it in favour of reaching out to you. He quickly injects something into your neck, holding you tightly against his chest. You stabbed him in the stomach. His blood spurts onto your dress as he makes sure you can't move, ignoring his wounds for a moment. Of course, he retaliates by tightening his grip on you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin.
"So you chose the hard path. Too bad, my little hunter. For you. I'll be damned glad to have the opportunity to train you. I will make you the perfect first lady, my darling." He whispers in your ear, and as you fall unconscious in his arms, you realise one terrifying thing. He caught you. He won this round.
You have to put plan B into action all alone.
You foresaw that your plan might fail and that someone would betray you. That's why you and Meg came up with... a contingency plan. After all, you had to keep your promise.
You're not leaving this presidential palace until you see the life drain from Coriolanus Snow. It will be your prison until then. A golden cage. No matter how long it will take... Or at least try to convince yourself that you have to do it. Because you know you must do it for the good of Panem. That you can't back down from anything at the next opportunity. You can't hesitate. No matter how much you will be drunk on the blame and pain of killing him.
It was a game of survival. A game only you and Coriolanus knew how to play. You had to win. For the good of people. To stop the suffering he caused.
After all, the caged wolf was still a threat. Even for poisonous snakes.
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PART 2 (last)
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2hightocare · 3 months
Text
LOVE WAGER! 01
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Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?
Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.
Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!
a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌
★ masterlist!
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3 years ago…
You were a hopeless romantic.
Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.
The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.
The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.
It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.
You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?
You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.
Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.
Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.
You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.
“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.
“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’
Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.
“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.
“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.
“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.
“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.
“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.
“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.
“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.
“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.
“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.
“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.
“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.
“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.
“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.
“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.
“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.
2 years ago..
The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.
You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.
“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.
Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.
“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.
“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.
“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.
As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.
“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.
He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.
“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.
“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.
You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.
“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.
“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.
“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.
“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.
“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.
His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.
“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.
“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.
“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.
“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.
“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.
He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.
“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.
You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.
A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.
Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.
“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.
“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.
“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.
Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.
He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.
Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.
Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.
He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.
He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.
Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.
Present day..
Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.
As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.
You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.
As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.
While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.
“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.
He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.
“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.
Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.
“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.
“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.
“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.
“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.
You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.
“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.
“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.
“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.
“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.
“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.
“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.
“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.
You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.
For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.
“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.
“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.
“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.
"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.
You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?
As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.
What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?
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Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)
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itoshiexx · 5 months
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thin line
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synopsis: four times itoshi rin said he hated you, and the one time he finally said the truth.
pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 5k (insane) | warnings: enemies to (implied) lovers, cursing (rin being rin), rin is a total tsundere and emotionally constipated, banter, teasing, one (1) sexual implication towards the end, i use the word hate a lot, kinda proofread
notes: oh my GOD. you have no idea how hard it was for me to write (and finish!) this. writer's block has been kicking my ass really hard and honestly i don't even know if i like this but i swear to god if this flops i'll kms. (jk. maybe. or not.)
masterlist sae's 4+1
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i.
itoshi rin was a hater. 
he didn’t consider himself one, naturally. rin thought he was a pretty chill guy, but apparently, everyone who had some sort of interaction with the younger itoshi felt the same kind of vibe coming from him. at least, it was what his stupid teammates said after claiming rin was always hating on something — whether it was the line in the coffee shop being too long, every pass given to him by isagi or the librarian with “a stupid fish-face”.
on his defense, no one liked long lines, isagi had two left feet when it came to passing and the librarian was a fucking weirdo. even if he was a hater, he had a plausible reason for everything he hated. 
“itoshi.”
that included you, of course.
rin was pretty convinced it was impossible not to hate you. every time he entered your shared biology class, a mere look at you was enough for his irk to grow even more. everything about you was just obnoxious.
you were loud. and, although unpleasant, that wouldn’t be much of a problem if you just weren’t unable to shut the fuck up and stop rambling excitedly at every friend you met. and you had many. you were some kind of weird social butterfly with infinite energy for social interactions — in a way, you reminded him of bachira. 
but bachira was not always jumping at every chance to refute him with a know-it-all smirk. bachira wasn’t perpetually ready to throw witty remarks at his rudeness. and bachira definitely didn’t have a pretty gleam on his eyes every time he headbutted with rin.
in short, you were everything itoshi rin hated. and the worst part was that you knew. you knew how much your very existence annoyed him, and it seemed like you took as your life mission to make the next two years of his life a living hell. 
“itoshi.” your voice reached his ears again. well, maybe if he just ignored you, you would… “itoshi!”
“what the fuck do you want?” he snapped, diverting his attention from the match playing on his phone to look at you. “i told you not to call me that.”
another thing he hated — to be called by his last name. it reminded him way too much of sae, and that was something rin didn’t want to do. but it wasn’t like he was going to tell you that, so he’d rather let you think he just didn’t want you to address him at all. which wasn’t a lie, either. 
you gave him a puzzled look, tilting your head like an innocent puppy. a fake naivety, of course. “we’re not close enough for me to call you by your first name, though.”
“thank fuck.” 
your eyes rolled at that. “language, itoshi.” he glared at you again, and you fixed your posture, putting your hands on the back pockets of your jeans. the malicious smile you gave sent chills down his spine. 
“well, i just came to deliver you the news since you missed last period. there’s a project worth 75% of our grade to be delivered in two months, and guess what? we’re together!”
oh, hell no.
“you tell terrible jokes.”
“i’m serious, though. if you don’t believe me, just ask your friends,” you said, so absentmindedly that rin felt his blood pressure rising. he opened his mouth to retort, but you beat him to it. “and before you try, the teacher already said no one can work alone and that the pairs cannot be exchanged.”
his left eye twitched, and he was pretty sure all his muscles were tight and ready to combust. life just couldn’t give him a break, could it? it was like he was being punished — forced to work with you, of all people. what a fucking nightmare. 
how the hell was he supposed to endure two months of constant interactions with your annoying sassiness and the pretty curve of your lips when you smirked? it might just drive him crazy. 
“so, when can we start, partner?”
rin rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck on the back of his skull. 
“i hate you.”
ii.
the soccer field was probably the only place rin felt at peace. the smell of grass and sweat was as familiar as his home, much like the round shape of the ball on his feet and the path to the goal. despite his rowdy teammates and their dumb antics, there wasn’t much that was able to distract him and break this peacefulness.
“itoshi!”
there was still something, though. or someone, for that matter.
the shock of seeing you in his “happy place” was so big rin nearly tripped on the ball, successfully letting bachira steal it from him. the snickers from reo and isagi made his skin boil with anger, but his harsh glare was directed at you — the fucking source of all his problems. 
and no, he was not being dramatic. 
“what are you doing here.” 
it wasn’t really a question, more like a veiled threat; but you seemed oblivious to it, or simply didn’t care about his reaction. something in him even thought you liked getting on his nerves. he was sure of it when you smirked.
“the project, dummy. we need to start today if we want to get it done in time. it’s pretty long, hence why we have two months.”
“i can’t today,” was all he said. 
“why?”
“because,” rin spat with venom on his tongue, “i have an important game next week.”
you stared at him in silence. rin would have thought about how the sun shining on your back framed you with a perfect halo and gave you a nearly angelic look if he wasn’t so busy controlling the heat on his face from your scrutiny. he hated when you did that. he hated you. 
“we have to start today, itoshi. i’ll wait until you finish practicing so we can go to the library.”
he hated your stubbornness. he hated your voice, too — how it sounded like a siren’s melody, ready to trap him and bring him to the bottom of the ocean.
“fine. suit yourself.”
the young itoshi turned around and went back to the field, ignoring aryu’s pestering and shidou asking about who you were and if he could have your number. rin pondered if a yellow card was worth shutting up the insect, but eventually decided against it; he didn’t want ego to bench him, especially when they were so close to the tournament next week. 
the rest of the game went pretty smoothly, although rin and his teammates could tell he had half of his focus on the sidelines, where you sat prettily at the stands with your laptop. a perpetual scowl was on his face throughout the rest of the match. you were so damn distracting it was annoying. 
once the match was over, some of the boys went home, while others continued practicing, rin being one of them. he was expecting you to grow tired and give up, especially considering it was getting darker and colder, but you didn’t waver. your face was still present on the stands, haunting him even if he closed his eyes. you even had the audacity to smile when your gazes crossed.
he hated your smile. he did. 
hours passed until every one of his teammates had gone home, and rin was the only one left in the field. deciding it was finally enough (and not admitting he was starting to worry for you), he stopped his moves, finishing up with a few stretches so that his muscles weren’t too sore. he stored the footballs on the cart and put away the cones, something that was already routine at that point since he was usually the last one to leave.
finally, rin walked towards you. 
“i’m done,” he said as he approached you on the sideline of the field. his gym bag was right at your side, and he ignored the electricity that sparked his skin when it grazed yours. 
your eyes averted from your laptop to look at him. “oh, hi! thought you’d take a little longer,” you retorted. “anyways, i’m done too.”
he stopped his movement. “what?”
“yeah, i finished the first topic. only fourteen more to go.” the giggle that flew out of your mouth reverberated through his body. rin watched as you stood up and stretched, looking away when your shirt rode up and a sliver of your stomach could be seen. you then proceeded to put your laptop away, and his brows furrowed. 
“i don’t get it. i thought you said… you said it was too much stuff to do by yourself.” you nodded, not even looking at him. rin kind of wished you did. “and yet you did everything?”
“well, yes.”
his scowl only worsened. “what the fuck? why?”
you slung your bag through your shoulder, looking at him with those damn doe-eyes that always sparkled so much. it was annoying. why did they remind him of the stars? and why did rin wanted to watch the night sky on your face?
“you said you have an important game next week, so i figured it wouldn’t kill to do the first topic by myself,” you answered. “don’t get used to it, though! you’re gonna have to help on the next ones, partner.”
the young itoshi ignored the stupid nickname, his brain still trying to catch up to everything. something just wasn’t clicking…
“so why the hell did you wait for me to finish practice?”
you didn’t even falter.
“thought you could use the company.” you shrugged. and although your voice was nonchalant, you were smiling. and not your typical mischievous smirk — it was a sweet, sweet smile, dripped in honey and all things good in the world. 
rin’s heart leaped on his chest. he could feel his cheeks becoming flushed, but he blamed it on the cold. 
coming to think of it, it was really cold. and you sat there for hours… if he looked closely, he could see your frame shivering from the lack of proper clothing. 
a little tsk came out of his mouth, and rin impulsively took off his jacket, throwing it on your face — ignoring the “hey!” you sent his way.
“what’s that for, itoshi?!”
“so that you don’t freeze to death, dumbass.”
rin had to admit your gaping expression was kind of cute. not that he would commit to memory or something… that would be lukewarm, and he was anything but lukewarm. especially when it came to you. 
“don’t get any ideas, though,” he said before you could retort, turning around to follow the path to his dorm room, “i still hate you.”
iii.
things were calmer after the game passed. rin often found himself at the university library with you after his practice, leaving around nine or ten, and walking you to your dorm building simply because he didn’t want to be bothered in case something happened to you. not like he was worried for your safety or anything.
you still got on his nerves, but the project was going surprisingly well. rin learned you were very dedicated and meticulous, meaning you put in a lot of effort to focus and make everything as perfect as it could be. he wished he could say his focus was also as sharp as ever, but the scent of your coconut shampoo always lingered on the study booths and made his mind fuzzy. 
it was tuesday night and you were both on your laptops doing research and writing on your paper, falling into the same little routine you established the past weeks. the library was nearly empty as usual — though you always sat at the furthest cabin because rin didn’t like to see, hear or speak to people — and the only sound in the ambience was the pitter patter of the rain. 
everything seemed to be going fine, but things changed when the rain got heavier and became a strong thunderstorm that made the lights go out.
“fuck,” rin cursed under his breath, looking around to hear other people mumbling complaints and the librarian saying she would turn on the power generator, asking for calm and patience. he squeezed the bridge of his nose, annoyed, and turned to you. “hey, do you think—”
then he stopped. 
the only source of light was the screen of your laptops and the occasional lightning striking on the dark sky, but rin could see you on the other side of the table as clear as day. and he felt his heart squeeze impossibly hard with the sight. 
you were shaking like a leaf, hands squeezed tight and nails prickling your skin, and your eyes were widened and so, so scared. he had never seen you wear such an expression, always familiar with your confidant, cheery self, and he decided he didn’t like one bit. 
“hey,” he whispered, trying to grasp your attention. however, your eyes were focused outside. “hey, look at me.”
slowly, your orbs met his, and rin felt his breath hitch. there were tears on your lash line threatening to fall, and panic began to rise on his throat; but he forced himself to stay calm for your sake. 
“what’s wrong?”
your lips trembled, but nothing came out. he hated your voice, but found himself missing it. so he tried again.
“are you… afraid of the dark?”
his question was answered when the sound of another thunder reverberated again, making you visibly flinch. his gaze softened when a small hiccup left your lips. 
“oh. it’s the thunder.”
you nodded, still unable to talk. rin could see you were forcing yourself to keep your sobs contained, as if the mere thought of crying in front of him was as dangerous as standing at gunpoint. like his words — venomous, harsh, cold words — could hurt you just as much as a bullet. 
his stomach churned with that thought. he hated it. 
so, as carefully as he could so as not to startle you, rin stood up from his seat and walked around the table until he reached the chair at your side, sitting on it. he felt you body tense with the proximity, more so when he slightly turned to stare at you, and felt the need to say something.
“it’s okay,” he murmured, so impossibly soft you could hardly believe it was itoshi rin saying those words to you. 
it was even more unbelievable when he enveloped your body in a hug, bringing your head to his chest as if to shelter you from the thunder. 
rin really hoped you couldn't hear the unrestrained beating of his heart. everything about that moment made him nearly combust; from the ever present smell of your shampoo when he rested his nose in your hair, the evident relaxation of your frame when he hugged you or the small arms that held his waist as if he was the only lifeline in the ocean. 
you let your sobs and sniffles run free, burying yourself deeper in his embrace, and all rin could do was pat your hair and whisper soft reassurances on your ear. 
it’s okay. you are safe. i won’t let it hurt you. 
he didn’t know how long you both stayed in that position, but as he enjoyed the warmth of your body next to his, your sobs eventually died out along with the roaring sound of thunder. the rain became thinner and the lights finally came back, although neither of you made a move to separate. 
the silence lingered for a moment before you broke it, “thank you.”
the male only hummed, trying to hide his disappointment when you slowly backed away. though his hand didn’t leave you, going from your hair to rest on your hip in some type of reassurance squeeze. 
“i-i’m sorry, it’s just…”
“you don’t have to explain,” he interrupted. then, hesitantly added, “only if you want to.”
“it’s not something big or anything… this fear has just kind of been there. i think something happened to me when i was a kid and it was thundering, so every time it happens i just… freeze.” you shook your head. “it’s stupid.”
he frowned. “it’s not stupid if it makes you this terrified. it’s okay, we all have fears.”
you were yet to look him in the eye, seemingly embarrassed about your triggered phobia. “i cried on your shirt.”
“yeah.”
“it has tears stains.”
“yeah.”
you sighed. “i’m sorry.”
he squeezed your hip again. “don’t apologize.”
you finally raised your head to look at him, and rin could very much consider himself a lost man at that moment. your eyes were glistening from the remnant of tears, but that pretty gleam was still there, barging its way through any sadness and any fear to present itself with the shy smile you sent him.
even if it was still dark, he would be able to see it, because you shined. brightly, scorchingly and so, so mesmerizing, like some sort of classic painting worth millions of dollars. if rin had the choice, he wouldn’t want to look away. 
“i think it’s enough for today,” you said, “do you mind if we continue tomorrow?”
“i don’t mind,” rin answered, although he secretly wished to bask in your warmth for a little longer. “i’ll take you to your dorm building. i brought an umbrella.”
because he knew you were a klutz and would most likely forget. not that he paid attention to you or something. 
you smiled again, and rin had to use all of his might to let go of you and go back to his chair to pick up his stuff. silently, you both put away your things and left the study booth towards the exit, where the younger itoshi opened his umbrella and started to walk towards your destination. he felt his skin burning when you tangled your arm with his so that you were squeezed together under the shelter for the rain.
around ten minutes later, you finally arrived at your dorm building. and then, as the little minx you were, you stood on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before running inside along with your goodbyes. 
“thank you, rin!”
he stood there like a statue for what felt like an eternity, feeling his face impossibly hot. rin touched his cheek in mild disbelief, feeling butterflies erupting on his stomach without permission. 
it was only then he realized you called him by his actual name, and a smile inevitably took over his features. 
fuck.
itoshi rin hated you. but that day, he discovered that he hated seeing you cry even more.
iv.
he didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing there. rin was not the kind of guy who went to parties, much less fraternity ones; but somehow he ended up in one on a saturday night after a lot of convincing from his teammates. he claimed he only accepted so that isagi would shut up and stop pestering him, but the said boy insisted to say he only agreed after learning you would be there. 
which was absurd, of course. a completely crazy, delusional and absurd thought. why would he want your obnoxious self to go and ruin the party? rin hated you. 
right?
the music was loud and the people were even louder. there were dozens of bodies on the makeshift dance floor swaying to the beat, along with some people playing beer pong and small groups scattered around talking as best as they could. rin was part of the last type, although he was tuning out everything that bachira blabbed on his ear like a madman. his focus was solely on the entrance.
and then, you came in. 
it was like a stupid romance movie — the way everything seemed to be in slow motion. from the way you walked, to the slight movement of your hair, to the blink of your curved eyelashes. and god, how much he hated that. 
he hated the way your mere presence prickled his skin. how your voice soothed his lousy thoughts, how your smile lit up the room. he hated this urge inside of him to look for you every time he knew you'd be in the same vicinity, like you were some source of life that he couldn’t live without. 
“are you okay, rin-chan?” bachira’s voice took him out of his thoughts. he blinked a few times.
“yeah, i’m fine.”
now, rin wasn’t a drinker; the red cup on his hand was merely for show. but he gulped some beer at that moment, as if trying to wake up from a hazy dream or get out of a trance. it made sense — he did think you were a siren of some sort. 
there was no other reason for the spell you put on him. 
the party went on, and he spent a few hours avoiding you like the plague and pretending he wasn’t stealing glances at every chance he got. truth is, he was always paying attention when you were swaying your hips on the dance floor like there was no tomorrow, glaring at every guy who thought about getting close while holding back his own desire to do the same.
it was only when you left to the backyard that his teammates finally decided to say something.
“you should talk to them” reo advised, eyebrows dancing in a weird, wiggly way. rin grimaced.
“what? why?”
the boys rolled their eyes and groaned, tired of the younger itoshi’s behavior. 
“rin, man. you are clearly interested in them. and i’m pretty sure they’re interested in you, too,” isagi said slowly, as if rin was a child. “otherwise, they wouldn’t make the effort to pester you.”
rin could feel his face flushing. “i’m not—”
“don’t even try to deny it. it’s kind of obvious, really,” chigiri butted in, an exasperated countenance on his face. “just go, rin.”
he let out a tsk, chugging the rest of his drink and throwing the cup on the trash. “i’m going out just because i don’t want to keep listening to you idiots.” 
“yeah, right,” nagi snickered, and the others followed, watching rin turn his back and move towards the backyard, where he would inevitably find you. 
the chilly air hit his skin the moment he stepped out, and rin kind of thanked the relief it gave to his hot cheeks. quickly looking around, it was easy to spot your lonely frame leaning on the wall, staring at the stars as if they weren’t in your eyes. he walked to you like his feet had their own will, and once he got close enough, leaned the side of his body on the wall, facing you.
“you’re cold.”
not even a hello, how are you to start. great conversationalist, itoshi rin.
you turned your head to look at him, smiling when recognition took over your features. “hey, itoshi! didn’t think i’d meet you here!”
the giggle that went past your lips was the only reason he didn’t scowl when you didn’t call him rin.
“parties are not really my thing, but my friends convinced me to come.” you nodded, understanding. he blinked a couple of times, and said again, “you’re cold.”
you slightly flushed. “it’s just a bit chilly, but it’s not a big deal…”
but rin was already shrugging off his jacket, moving to be right in front of you as if to shield you from the wind. he handed the piece of clothing to you. “here.”
“oh… thank you,” you answered, bashful, taking the jacket and putting it on. 
last time he lent you one, he didn’t stay to see how you looked like. but at that moment, rin was sure there was nothing prettier than the sight of you in his clothes. he swallowed a nervous lump from his throat.
“so… why are you out here by yourself?”
“needed some air. i danced a lot and it was kind of stuffy in there.” you shrugged. then, fiddling with your fingers, you look straight into his eyes. “and maybe… maybe i was hoping someone would follow.”
someone. you had your eyes on someone. 
rin didn’t know what was worse: the stinging pain on his heart or the bitter taste left on his tongue. what he did know was that both felt like poison, one that would spread through his veins and consume him whole. and that he shouldn’t feel like this. because he hated you, after all. 
he must have made a terrible grimace, because you threw your hands in the air in exasperation. 
“for fucks sake.”
and then your lips were on his. 
it was just a fleeting moment — something way too quick and definitely not enough to sate the dormant hunger inside of him. in the blink of an eye, you were already back in your place, staring at him with doe-eyes and a hundred doubts written in them. 
rin freezed for a whole full minute with his mouth agape, until finally lunging forward to kiss you again. his right arm wrapped possessively around your waist to glue your bodies together, while his left hand found a place in your jaw, cradling your face as if you were some precious jewel. his lips were hungry on yours, and you gasped with the intensity, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue inside your mouth. 
kissing you was exhilarating, like scoring the perfect goal or winning a championship. adrenaline ran high on his veins and his head was a little airy. and rin swore he never felt so alive. 
when you finally parted, you were both panting, chest heaving with every breath. rin rested his forehead against yours, directing both of his hands to your middle as if to look for grounding. 
“you still hate me, itoshi?” you asked in a whisper, mouth inches away from his but still not close enough. that dangerous gleam was still settled in your eyes, and he could swear you were the perfect definition of sinful every time you batted your eyelashes at him.
“call me rin.”
“okay,” you giggled lightly. “you still hate me, rin?”
he could feel his blood pulsing on his ears. “yeah,” he answered, way too breathless for an athlete of his caliber. 
and then, holding your waist tighter, “kiss me again.”
v.
“we should get coffee.”
rin’s words cut the silence as you were exiting the library yet again. you looked up to see his face staring straight ahead, expression unreadable as always, but the light redness on the tip of his ears told you all you needed to know. 
you decided to be a tease, as always. “hm… i don’t know, should we? you sure you want to spend even more time with someone you hate?”
he scowled like usual, but this time, there was a small pout on his lips. you thought he looked the cutest when he was like that, all shy and trying to maintain his stoic act. 
he grumbled something under his breath. 
“what was that?”
“i said,” he sneered, “i don’t hate you, stupid.”
you arched your brow. “you don’t?”
“do you think i would have kissed you if i did?” the smirk you give him is both charming and infuriating. rin would have said he hated it, but he was done pretending. 
“i don’t know, itoshi. you are kind of emotionally constipated.”
“shut up,” rin quipped. then, he snaked your waist with his right arm as you walked side by side, pulling you closer. “and didn’t i tell you to call me rin?”
there was just mischief in your eyes when you answered, “yeah, but i like to get on your nerves.”
the male scoffed, still in disbelief with your antics. 
“you’re a damn brat. i think you just want me to teach you my name tonight.”
rin could practically feel the heat on your face, and he smirked when he saw how red you were. god, you were so cute. 
“at least take me to dinner first before we hate-fuck,” you still managed to joke, despite the slight shakiness in your voice. he rolled his eyes, and pulled you to a stop by the arm. 
you both stood in the middle of campus, feeling the gentle caress of the breeze and listening to the birds chirping. it was a peaceful day, with the sun high up in the baby blue sky. rin thought there was no better time than at that moment. 
his hand traced your arm until it reached your own, and he squeezed your fingers in reassurance. 
“i don’t hate you,” he said again. “i just hate the way i don’t hate you. not even close. not even a little bit. not even at all.”
he watched your eyes light up and smile brighter than the sun, and he almost laughed at the disbelief in your voice. 
“did you just quote ‘ten things i hate about you’?”
it was his time to flush. a small shrug was all rin answered with — he didn’t want you to know he specifically chose this sentence because that was your favorite movie. not like it mattered when you were gleaming at him and making his heart leap on his chest. 
“well, then,” you squeezed his hand back, “let’s get coffee, rin.”
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© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
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psychedelic-ink · 4 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ⸻ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader
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⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟
genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni
word count: 3.7k
chapter summary: hanging garlands around town goes horribly wrong when you decide to decorate one of the polls. luckily a stranger with a rather soothing voice talks you through it and helps you down. But much to your surprise, he doesn't seem to be a stranger at all but rather a reminder of the past you've been trying to escape from.
warnings: age gap, canon typical violence, reader having a fear minor fear of heights, some threats, a brief make-out scene at the end, drinking
**dividers by @saradika
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Jackson is everything you never expected in such a cruel world.
It’s been only a week since your arrival, yet you already feel fully incorporated into the community. Tommy and Maria Miller had surprisingly taken a liking to you. Later on, you learned that, especially Maria, wasn’t that keen on newcomers. If you had to guess why she decided to take you in, it would be the fact that you were half-dead and a mile away from their doorstep. It was cold, very cold. You still remembered how the wind sliced against your cheeks. When you came to, you met Tommy Miller. His smile was genuine and vaguely familiar for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. He had shown you around, then led you to your new home.
A home. Something you’d thought wasn’t possible anymore. 
Something that you would protect to keep, no matter what. 
It was a bit rundown, but solid nonetheless, like most of the survivors. Despite being only one person, the home they provided had three rooms and two bathrooms. You felt spoiled. You’d told Tommy about it, he had just laughed it off saying that after everything you’ve been through you deserve a decent roof over your head. 
The words had stung at the time. He didn’t know who you were or what you’ve done. Jackson was a small community so you knew that Tommy Miller had been somewhat involved with the Fireflies but not like you. Never like you. 
You feel slightly nauseous thinking about it. Snow crunches loudly under your boots as you make your way to Tommy’s. It’s lonely not being able to talk, not being able to say what you’re thinking freely. Most of the time it just feels like you’re looking through the other side of the glass, never truly comfortable around people that you frequently conversed with. 
Standing in front of the door you take a deep breath, your skin tickles as your lungs expand with crisp cold air and you smile faintly upon the exhale. It’s hard, but you shouldn’t be complaining. You don’t have to fight to stay alive anymore. You don’t have cuts and bruises, you’re not a soldier anymore—you’re free. 
Your mind drifts off only for a second, to that day when you made your escape. You would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the man who spared you. His vacant gaze is still vivid in your head, waking you from sleep from time to time. 
You follow your first knock with a second one. Heavy footsteps reach your ears and the door opens with a loud creak. Tommy’s eyes shine bright as he sees you, a half smile tugging at his mouth. If you had to call someone a friend it would certainly be him. 
“Hey there Pecan,” he says. “Ready for some decoratin’?” 
“Can I get out of it if I say no?” 
He scoffs, “Don’t be a baby. It’ll be fun.” 
“How is labor fun?” 
You grin broadly and upon seeing it Tommy rolls his eyes. Stepping forward, he closes the door behind him. “You’re the goddamn second person to tell me that, you know.” 
“Who beat me to it?” 
“My pain in the ass brother.” 
The two of you walk to the back to get the garlands. Everyone in Jackson had pitched in to make them, including you. “I keep forgetting you have a brother. Why haven’t I seen him yet? Does he hate you or something?” 
“I’d say the opposite,” he huffs, opening the door of the garage. It’s full of boxes with “Christmas” written in bold letters. Luckily you don’t have to deal with those today. Only the garlands. “He’s like a mother hen. Too overbearin’. His name’s Joel and if you decide on gettin’ a tree you’ll see his ugly mug.” 
You doubt that anyone related to Tommy would be ugly but you decide to keep that to yourself. “Why is that?” 
“Maria appointed him as Christmas tree farmer. You can imagine his joy upon hearin’ that.” 
“All by himself?” you ask a bit surprised. 
“Nah. He has a couple of helpers but they work in shifts, everyone is pitching in chopping down the trees and getting them where they need to go. You’re free to help him out if you’re so worried.” 
“I’m not,” you say a bit too quickly when seeing Tommy’s grin. “It just felt a bit unfair for an old man.” 
“He might be old but he’s a fuckin’ beast,” he answers, leaning down and picking up one of the boxes. You follow, you take two since garlands aren’t exactly heavy. “I’ve never seen anyone as resilient as him. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me sometimes.” 
“You can say that about a lot of people here.” 
“You’ll understand what I mean when you meet him.” He heads out the garage and so do you, both of you leaving deep footprints on the snow as you head to the heart of the community. “And do please call him old man in person. I wanna see the look on his face.” 
“I’m not going to sacrifice my well-being so you can laugh at your brother, Tommy.” 
“You disappoint me, Pecan.” 
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Damn, Tommy Miller and his stupid stupid garlands. 
You have no idea how long it’s been since you started hanging them all around town. You and Tommy had split up, deciding that it would be faster. At the time it made perfect logical sense but now, as your heart rams into your chest while decorating one of the polls, you decide it was a stupid ass idea. 
You’re not exactly scared of heights but you’re not a fan of them either. Every time the ladder creaks, you have a miniature heart attack. You’d feel much safer if Tommy were holding the legs, even though you know it wouldn’t help much if the damn thing collapsed. You hear the faint chatter coming from below. Some people staring as you wrap the stubborn garlands around the cylinder wood. You hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it. 
When you’re finally done and about to climb back down, you can’t move. 
“Fuck,” you hiss loudly, knowing that no one can hear you. You glance down—big mistake. Your entire body freezes over, your fingers tight around the poll. You have half the mind to hug the damn thing. Your throat tightens and you look up. This is it, after everything you’ve been through, you’re going to fucking die while hanging fucking garlands—
A strong gust of wind blows, swaying the ladder side to side, a sharp scream rips from your throat, and this time you do hug the pole. You notice a small crowd gathering. Another blow of wind and the unstable surface ceases to exist, you barely manage to bring your legs around the poll. 
Screams and shouts that don’t belong to you reach your ears and you hope no one got hit by the ladder. Oh god. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, sweat beading from every pore despite the cold. 
“Slide down!” you hear someone shout. A man, you register. A man with a deliciously raspy and deep voice. “Just slide down damn it!” 
“No!” you shout back. “It took me hours wrapping the damn garlands I’m not doing it again!” 
A weak excuse but still valid nonetheless. If you slide down all that work it rook the town to make these things would get destroyed thanks to your body. And even if it doesn’t, the damn things would slide down with you. There’s no way you’re climbing back up here. At least not until hell freezes over. 
“You’re gonna fall and the ladder is busted,” the man shouts back. “And from the quiverin’ of your legs, I don’t think you’ll last until Greg brings the other one!” You hug the poll tighter, he was right, your legs—especially your thighs—were about to give out. And as if he can read your mind, the voice shouts out once more. “I’ll hang the damn things myself and fix’em up, just slide your ass down before your legs fuckin’ give out!” 
You’re starting to get a bit lightheaded. Adrenaline and fear make your breathing uneven and quick. The disembodied voice is right. If you don’t slide down now your body is just going to give up and you are going to crack your head against the ground. A sharp exhale parting your lips, you finally start sliding down. You loosen your limbs, groaning every time you feel the needles of the garland ripping away and presumably falling above the snow. Fuck. You hope the stranger is good with his hands.  
“That’s it, atta girl,” you hear him say, ignoring the way your body slightly clenches at the praise. “Just go down, I’m right here.” 
More voices start to reach your ear the more you go down. You hear the voice of a girl, “I would’ve died if that happened to me.  Holy shit.” 
The man grunts, “Now’s not the time, Ellie. Keep your opinions to yourself.” 
By the time you reach the end, your breathing is ragged and you can barely feel your legs. The man who’s been talking you through it holds you gingerly from the waist and pulls you away from the poll. Your feet skip over each other and you end up tripping backwards, right into the stranger's chest. You feel the warmth of his breath tickling the back of your head as you both end up falling. His body breaks your fall, his large hands still holding you from the waist. A pleasant shudder runs up your spine and you find yourself relaxing. 
The crowd inches closer, a worried clammer coming from all directions. However, all you can focus on is the girl standing right across from you. She’s wearing a thick coat, her hair in a neat ponytail. She’s giving you a curious look, she also looks amused. 
Your brows furrow, the brown of her eyes familiar. 
“You plannin’ on gettin’ off me sweetheart?” 
You push yourself up, realizing you're still sprawled on top of the stranger. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you scramble to stand, muttering apologies. He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that sends a shiver through you.
"Easy there, no harm done," he says, getting up as well. The crowd disperses now that the crisis is averted, leaving you alone with the man and the girl, who's still watching you with that curious expression. “You a’right? That was quite a journey down.” 
“I’m. . .” You turn towards him, still feeling disoriented, still feeling a bit shaky. You’re about to tell him you’re alright, and possibly thank him right after, but the words die in your throat. You hear the loud beat of your heart. Thud thud thud. The world is turning, spinning. You open and close your mouth, over and over again. His eyes meet yours. The same brown eyes you’ve seen in countless sleepless nights. 
You don't forget the face of the person who determines your fate. 
And in his case, you don’t forget the face of the person who spared you. 
Recognition slowly flickers across his weathered features. It’s so subtle. His lips part ever so slightly, eyes in the midst of going wide but keeping his eyelids neutral. He blinks heavily and snaps his lips tightly shut. You do the same. Your mouth now a thin line as you take each other in. 
Then you see the recognition, the surprise, turn into anger. You’re a brutal reminder of his past and what he’s done to get here. 
“Joel,” the girl hisses, nudging him with an elbow. “Don’t be an asshole.” 
You blink, eyes snapping to the girl. . . Ellie. . . the immune girl. 
Despite her harsh warning, neither of you speak. You are eyeing each other like wild animals wanting to protect their territories. Your legs are still shaking, your body trembling. He looks different but at the same time not at all. There’s no blood on him, no weapons. And the vacant look you’ve grown accustomed to is now full of emotion. 
No one notices Tommy until he’s standing next to Ellie, his chest heaves as he tries to gather his breath. His gaze fixed on you, “You a’right there pecan?” 
You freeze once more. The familiarity you’ve always felt around him—
“He’s your brother,” you state. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as he nods. You feel sick. 
“I’ve heard what happened are you alright?” 
“I’m fine,” You’re not. Joel is still staring at you, taking in every detail. You take hold of yourself and force some emotion other than fear to flicker across your face. “I’m fine thanks to your brother, the ladder collapsed and I had to slide down,” you turn to Joel, ignoring the taste of blood in your mouth. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome.” 
The playful lilt in his tone was completely gone. Ellie jumps forward, quickly taking your hand, everyone except you misses the way Joel flinches, jerking forward. “I’m Ellie and this caveman here is Joel.” 
You clear your throat, “Nice to meet you Ellie and. . . “ You meet his gaze once again and say carefully. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t say a word as you introduce yourself. Thankfully Tommy whistles and all eyes turn towards the ruined garland and the pine needles scattered above the snow. “Fuck. It’s gonna take days to fix this.” 
“We still have time don’t we Uncle Tommy?” Ellie asks. “Joel offered to help fix it and hang it.” 
Tommy’s head snaps towards Joel, a lopsided smile stretching across his lips as he shoots him an amused look, “Did he now?” 
Ellie’s look matches her uncle’s, “He did.” 
“Well then,” Tommy says, slapping his brother’s back. Joel glares at him, his brows knitted tightly together. “I’ll leave it up to you.” 
“We should go,” Joel says suddenly, grabbing Ellie’s arm and dragging her away. Both you and Tommy are left dumbfounded as you watch Ellie furiously waving. 
“Nice meetin’ you pecan!” 
“Good,” Tommy grins, prompting your sharp glare. “The nickname is catching on.” 
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Alcohol buzzes in your system, making you grin like a fool as you lean back against the makeshift bar, enjoying the sight of everyone dancing and laughing. After a boring meeting of who would be doing what during the Christmas season, everyone had rushed out to get the bonfire ready. Faint music hummed in the background. Festive songs you’ve hadn’t heard since you were a little girl. You only recognize the melodies since you were a kid when you last heard them, the lyrics you can’t quite remember. 
You watch Tommy and Maria from the corner of your eyes, he had his arms wrapped snugly around her waist. They were happy. Deep inside you can’t help but be envious. You hadn’t met a lot of people since coming here, it was hard to make friends when you felt undeserving of the comfort you received. 
Your skin tingles as you remember Joel’s hands firm against your waist. You’ve felt something before recognizing him. Something sweet and playful. But it was ripped away thanks to your intertwined past. He was death. You can’t forget that. You wonder if Ellie knew what he’d done for her, you wonder if Tommy knew. 
Shaking your head you take another swig of your drink. All these thoughts were sobering you up. You can’t have that. You need to relax, to forget. But despite knowing that, a nasty feeling of worry brews in your gut. What if Joel tells them? What if he makes the case that you’re dangerous and did unspeakable things for the cause? Will Tommy and Maria throw you out then—or worse—kill you? Joel is Tommy’s brother after all. . . you. . . you are nothing. 
There’s a flicker of movement and a ripple amongst the crowd, lifting your head you see Joel giving Tommy a quick hug. He says something to Maria, a greeting you assume, and you notice Ellie heading off with Dina. Your heart skips a beat. You should go home, or at least stop staring at the man but you can’t. He’s the one you’ve been thinking about ever since you left the damn hospital. It was his eyes you’ve seen the nights you were jolted awake from the horrors the world had to offer. 
You can’t decide on what to do and because of that, you’re suddenly facing an icy cold gaze from him. His lips are downturned, shoulders raised. You think about smiling, maybe raising your drink but you decide it would only add fuel to the fire. 
A minute passes, a minute that feels like an hour, and he finally rips his gaze off of you, turning to Tommy instead. He squeezes his younger brother’s shoulder and quickly disappears. 
You feel an unwarranted rage at him leaving. Running away. And suddenly you’re on your feet, following him. You can see his footsteps in the snow. You’re not sure what you’re going to say to him but you have to say something. This is your home now too and he won’t be taking that away from you. You’re not leaving after finding some semblance of peace. 
You follow the footprints to a narrow space between two buildings. You notice moss in the cracks of the wood. You frown. Where the hell is he? There isn’t any place else to go from here, it’s a dead end. 
You turn on your heel, only to come to an immediate stop. 
His expression is dark, a harsh sneer on his face that makes you stop. You remember the stories, the ones about the things he’d done to survive. You swallow thickly and take a step back, but he reaches out and shoves against the wall. You gasp as Joel’s arm presses against your throat, your back hitting the wall with a painful thud.
"You’ve got some nerve, showin’ your face around here," he growls, pressing you harder against the wall. You can feel his warm breath against your face, his forearms causing you to struggle for air. But you refuse to back down, refusing to let him intimidate you. You stare right back into his angry eyes. “Tell me what you want.” 
“Nothing,” you hiss. “I just wanted to talk to you, clear the air.”
“Clear the air of what?” he leans closer, your nose almost brushing. “You’ll leave right now.” 
“No I fucking won’t,” you snap and claw at his arm. It’s getting harder to breathe. “Jackson’s my home too.” 
His eyes narrow and he presses forward, fully cutting the airflow. There’s a vicious throbbing in the back of your eyes and tears gather in the corners. “I should’ve fuckin’ killed you when I had the chance,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. 
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You don’t know what to do, you can barely speak, only whimpers leaving your parted lips. You attempt to kick at his legs but he simply moves out of the way. 
How can this be the same man who held you so gently before? 
“Take this as a warnin’,” Joel loosens his grip, your lungs filling with delicious oxygen. “If I see you anywhere near Ellie—” 
“Oi Miller, what the fuck are you doing?” 
You should be relieved. You really fucking should. But seeing the panic flaring in his eyes, a similar emotion starts coursing through your veins. You both tense and you feel your skin growing taut over your body. Your eyes shift between him and the two friends standing. You recognize them, one of them is Marc, and the other Steven. Twins. Your eyes move gradually back to Joel, he meets your gaze, your eyes drop to his lips, a plan forming in your head—an ill-advised plan, but a plan nonetheless. 
You kiss him. 
You fucking kiss him. 
The arm on your throat immediately drops and you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until he’s flushed against you. His body feels solid against your own. Strong and tall. He hesitates, his lips still as stone. Not knowing what else to do to make it more convincing, you tilt your head, lick the seam of his lips, and moan absurdly into his closed mouth. Joel starts moving then. His hands trail down the sides of your body and grip your hips, squeezing as he moves his mouth. 
Everything about the moment lingers. The kiss, the closeness, everything. His hands twitch and you find yourself rolling your body towards him, feeling the semi-bulge underneath his pants. When a second moan escapes you it’s not for show. Heat licks the base of your spine, your entire being screaming for him to come closer and closer and closer— 
He stops. It’s sudden and cold. However, you take the hint and with a lazy smile turn to the men watching you with dropped jaws. Joel doesn’t bother to look in their direction, he’s still holding you, allowing you to use his shoulder somewhere to lean against. His grip on you is tight. 
“Sorry guys,” you make an effort to slur your speech. “I might’ve had too much to drink and couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Love it when a man is a bit rough.” 
You don’t know why but his grip on you instantly loosens. Both Steven and Marc look at you with utter shock. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marc blurts out. “Get a room you two. There are families out.” 
With that they both leave, grumbling to themselves something about young people you can’t quite catch. 
When both of you are sure no one is near, Joel shoves you off of him. “What the hell was that?” 
“A kiss.” 
“Don’t fuckin’ pull that shit with me, people are gonna talk. They’re gonna think I can’t keep it in my pants.” 
“Better than them thinking you were gonna kill me,” you say. “You should be thanking me for saving your ass,” you answer, trying very hard not to look down at the front of his pants. “Don’t worry so much nothing is going to happen. They’ll talk a day or two and then it’ll just blow over.” 
He doesn’t seem that convinced, “Fine,” he grunts and you start to take your leave. Your mind is swirling with unidentifiable emotions. You need time to think. “I was serious, stay away from Ellie.” 
As if you were the dangerous one here. 
“Joel,” you turn to face him one last time for the night. Not prepared to see how his eyes were glossed over, the anger and hatred drained from them. He looks startled. “I’m not leaving my home.” 
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Note
Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵
Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)
Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️
Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.
NSFW contents under the cut 😉
Erwin Smith
Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.
Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.
He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.
But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.
Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.
Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.
His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.
His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.
Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.
When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.
When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.
Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.
I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.
When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.
Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.
But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.
You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.
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Levi Ackerman
Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.
Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.
Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.
Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.
However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...
It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.
That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)
Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.
Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.
Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.
Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.
He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.
Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.
Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.
After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.
He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.
A bath sounds good now.
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Hanji Zoë
Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.
Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.
So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.
And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.
"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.
You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.
Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.
"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.
You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."
Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.
With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)
For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.
Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.
With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.
When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.
Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.
Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.
Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.
"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."
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dorayakichan · 6 months
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hello, can i request nsfw hcs for the sabbath crew? (you can leave out red glasses + hyuk if you don’t write for them) thank you!!
Windbreaker nsfw headcanons: Sabbath Crew (Joker, Wooin, Hyuk x fem!reader)
"You know I'm one of the bad guys, right?"
Genre: headcanon, smut
CW: MDNI, nsfw, smut, oral, penetration, rough, fem!reader is aged up
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Joker
He had noticed you since the beginning of the tournament, in fact, it was impossible for him not to when you were so dazzling and attractive. 
Yet, you were enemies and the further the tournament went the more your crew and his clashed. 
Who would have thought that in between all these clashes, something more would have sparked something so wrong yet so good that both of you, were unable to stop now.
He grips your hips tightly as he inserts himself into you, nearly bruising your soft thighs, pushing all of his member inside of your swollen core. His grunts and your whimpers fill the room as he looks at your pleading innocent stare.
“More!....faster!” you are always giving those pleading eyes to him. Which is also his signal and his consent to do things to you a woman’s body like yours would have it hard to withstand. He slams hard so hard that his dick touches your clit, it’s wrong, it’s dangerous yet you love the feeling of pain coursing through you as he doesn’t stop at that.
He is rough fucking you as if he is possessed, molding the shape of your inside to the shape of his cock. He doesn’t stop nor slow down even when tears start coming out of your eyes, because he knows that's how you like it, he knows your deepest desires and fantasies. As he moves his arms up and down your body resting them on your boobs and squeezing them.
He sucks on your nipples and licks them as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted in his life, as he comes closer to his release.
“I’m close.” He says waiting for your approval before increasing the speed, and releasing himself inside of you, obviously with a condom on. There is no way this man would risk having to take one more responsibility in his life.
He lays beside you as you snuggle into his opened arms, laying your head on his chest. You give him a peck smiling at him. 
“You know I’m one of the bad guys right?” he asks you.
“It’s too late to say this now after what you did…Hmm?” you give him a kiss, a more passionate and lustful one this time getting on top of him. “Wanna go for another one?” you seductively ask.
Wooin
Once you had come to cheer for your friends and that’s when that day you happened to cross paths with this infamous guy. Another time you met him again in another race as you were cheering for your friends he approached you and asked for your number.
Here you are now, getting your face nearly sucked as he devours you. It happened once, and you thought it was all there was going to be. Then it happened one more time and another and another until you both found out you couldn’t stop it anymore whatever this was you would always go back to him and he would always call you and only you.
As he grabs you by your waist shoving you on his couch he unbuckles his pants giving you a full sight of his erect cock. “Are you sure you can take this baby? After all, you know I’m one of the bad guys, right?
Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, while keeping eye contact as you lick the tip of his member. Teasing him, moving your tongue in circles around it slowly before putting it all in your mouth.
“I guess that’s a yes then.” He smiles, pushing your head deeper making you nearly choke.
Your movements in the beginning are slow as you adjust your mouth to his length but they don’t stay like that for long as you feel your hair getting grabbed harshly. He starts fucking your mouth as if having been deprived of food and water for days. 
“Keep your eyes up!” He orders. Wooin loves the teardrops falling out of your eyes as you nearly choke on his member in absolute need of air which he deprives you of, until the moment of his release. And even then he keeps his dick on your mouth until he has fully released everything inside expecting you to swallow it all. 
He licks the tears on your face as he deviously smiles. “Guess I got hard again? Care to help?”
Hyuk/Hyeok Kwon
I don’t think you would have caught Hyuk’s eyes if not for those amazing tricks you had pulled that one early morning as you practiced with your friends for the tournament. He was walking alone when he noticed you and your crew. Your eyes were shining with excitement as you showed the others your incredible moves. 
He first came up to you when you were alone going home, then another time while you were biking around town asking for a race. After some time he asked you to teach him one of your tricks while he would teach you one of his. It kind of seemed like he was following you around just to learn those tricks. 
So you were not sure how you had ended up on the same bed, head on the mattress as you felt his cock push into the wet folds of your stimulated pussy. He moved into you from behind, thrusting slowly but enticingly as one of his hands was on your pussy playing with his fingers your overstimulated clit. 
His grip tightens as he starts to move faster. Between the deep breaths you both let out he says. “How can you be so wet? You know that I’m one of the bad guys right?”
“Oh God, is that what you are thinking right now?” his words kind of excite you but you try to act annoyed. “Kind of…” he answers.
“Well bad during the day but good during the night!” You say as his eyes widen. He pulls you by your arms as your back arches slightly getting you as close as possible to him, while his thrusts become faster and faster. 
He leans his head on your back as he moves hot breaths tickling your skin. If he lets go you are sure you will hurt your nose as your arms have become limp from the tight hold he has on them, you nearly can’t feel them anymore as he pushes more and more until his release comes closer.
He lets you go with no warning as he takes his dick out of you stroking on it for a few seconds until his cum comes out dripping on your back. Painting it all in white. You fall asleep fast after that, not even hearing the click of the door as he exits the room leaving you naked and spent on top of the bed.
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redstarwriting · 11 months
Text
the clash | iv. london calling
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2.8k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst
a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)
now reading: iv. london calling
previous chapter: iii. black planet
next chapter: v. ever fallen in love
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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”
“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”
“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”
“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”
“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”
“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”
“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.
“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”
“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”
“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”
“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.
“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”
“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”
“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“I’ll make you.”
“Try me, Hobart.”
“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”
You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.
“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”
With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.
“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”
“And you didn’t offer any to them?”
“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”
“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”
“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”
“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.
“Do you know how to have any fun?”
“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“Don’t care. The answer is no.”
“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”
“You actually want to share with me?”
“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”
“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”
“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”
“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”
“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”
“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”
“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”
“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”
“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”
“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”
“I helped you today, love.”
“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”
“Hmm?”
“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.
“Why not?”
“What?”
“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”
“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”
“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”
“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”
He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”
“Doing what?”
“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”
“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”
“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”
“Great.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”
“I’ll do what I want.”
“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.
He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.
He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.
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k4marina · 1 year
Text
— type || s.r
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synopsis: some new recruits ask you what your type is
warnings: suggestive language, some military lingo i guess, not proofread btw 🤺
inspired by rules by doja cat
simon”ghost”riley x gn!reader
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the inside of the helo buzzed with excitement as it got ready for take off. you and the 141, with a few new recruits were off to a mission. it was quite simple, locate enemy base, eliminate any threats, and safely retrieve the intel.
price, gaz, and soap we’re going in a separate helo while you and ghost had to babysit the newbies in another helo.
you took a seat, shifting your rifle and your hips to get comfortable for the ride. once settled you leaned your head back, eye closed hoping to get some peace before landing at the destination.
“..what? no! you ask them!”
“bruh.. why me? i don’t even say anything about this.”
“bro, martinez, you ask them since you’re so whipped.”
the not so hushed whispering grew louder and you more annoyed. geez, would it kill for some silence?
“lieutenant, i have a question.” the voice came from across where a few new recruits had sat themselves.
with a sight you opened your eyes, tilting your head to look at him. he wore a cocky smile, eyeing the way you sat, staring a little too long. “yes?”
“i was just wondering, y’know, what your type is.” the deck got quite, all eyes on you and the soldier across from you.
“and what do you want to do with that information for?”
“well, i was thinking how about you and me go out for some drinks?”
his friends watched with a mix of awe and horror as their friend tried to hit on his superior. “seems like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
he smirked. “what else am i supposed to think about when you’re running around up there.”
god, how you wanted to gag.
you crossed your legs, purposefully moving you hips around, catching his attention.
you licked your lips, “i’ll need devotion.”
“lemme show how much i can give.”
gag.
you shifted forwards, letting your foot touch his leg. a glance down at his pants showed that they’d gotten significantly tighter.
“be honesty,” your voice can out sultry. “do i make you horny, baby?”
he licked his lips. “that obvious?” you huffed, moving away from him with a shit eating grin.
“too bad.”
even under the red light of the inside of the helo, you could see the heat rise up to the tips of ears. “let me give you a few tips. one, don’t talk to your superiors like that and two, you’ve gotta fake gold chain on- change that.”
a few other snickered at the two little jabs you said. martinez sat back with a “yes lieutenant, sorry.”
you groaned, leaning back again only to hear heavy boots stomping up the ramp and down towards the empty seat next to you.
“hey martinez. wanna know my type?” you tilted your head towards ghost walking to you. “that it right there.”
simon sat now next to you, glaring daggers at the recruits across from you, who now could look at anywhere but you.
you looked up at him, watching as his eyes went from them to you. he leaned down to youre ear, “you’re a cheeky little minx, ain’t ya’?”
you gave him a little shrug. “maybe you should take so long next time.”
was this rushed? yes.
it’s it still better than nothing? yes.
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