#i wanted him to sob and cry as he goes into hard core denial as the halucinations of caleb and the guards circle him in silence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwwcapricorncom · 3 years

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hii could i request something? i don't mind whether it's a headcannon with some drabble or a longer scenario, do whatever you have time for. make sure you're taking care of yourself 🥰

oki so nsfw haikyuu, im very indecisive so I'll give you a list of some characters - feel free to include multiple alsjdggwgw.

tsukishima, kageyama, miya twins, kuroo, bokuto, yknow throw in hinata for some spice. basically anyone that would rUiN me 😗✌️

okay so for the scenario literally go wild with it, I'd love to have a few kinks involved like dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation and masochism (or sadism if you look at it from the characters side).

feel free to improv if there's anything specific you've been wanting to write lmao I'm happy with anything.

have fun hehe

Eep! You’re so sweet I could cry T^T. You’re my first ask btw so Thank you thank you! Anyone who enjoys this post, please thank anon! This will also be my first work for haikyuu so I hope it will be good! In addition, i'll write the reader as Fem for now bc it wasn’t specified, so I hope that’s okay<3. I was gonna include all characters, but I felt I kept you waiting long enough.

Okay so im thinking…. How they act when domming WITH BOKUTO, ATSUMU, OSAMU, TSUKI, AND HINATA.

Genre: SMUT/MINORS DNI/ 18+/ Characters aged up

Warnings: dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation, masochism & sadism, a wee bit of impact play in Osamu’s... it just happened, gagging, nose pinching, praising, oral (fem and male receiving), dom dynamics, use of the word “daddy.

BOKUTO

Bo is a wild card, so anything can activate his dom moods and they can vary from service to hard domming.

You have to watch out for those days when you do something that he finds so cute because that’s when he wants to be a service dom.

And that means fucking you completly dumb.

“C’mere puppy”, just wants to show you how much he appreciates and adores you, so he has to make you feel so good that you turn into mush.

Always fucks you in a position that relies solely on you having to rely on him because it’s such a power trip for him.

Will have you picked up and getting fucked against the wall of your room as he tells you how cute you are.

Seeing you like this triggers something so animalistic in him, he is suddenly so hyper focused as he fucks you like an animal.

LOUDDDD

Just wants to see how wrecked you’ll get for him, but wrecks himself too.

“C’mere puppy, gonna pick you up.” You're a mess already, having been getting fucked into on your back by your boyfriend. Still, you put your hands out so he can pull you into his broad chest and up you two go. He smiles at your compliance and goes in to kiss your cute lips, albeit deeply as he sucks on your tongue and bottom lip which makes saliva string you two together when pulling away.

By the time he is done kissing you, he has your bare back pressed against the cool surface of your room walls and is nudging the head of his big, fat cock back into your needy hole. “Ah! Bo, fuck! like this?”

You can’t help but ask while clinging to him for dear life as he bottoms out in you. All he can do is nod, one hand strongly wrapped around your lower back, close to your ass, and the other flat against the wall above your head. He loves the way you cling to him, much like how your soft walls do at the slightest dragging of his cock. In and out. He begins to buck his hips up into you and you bounce at the sheer force of each of his thrusts, breast bouncing gloriously in front of him too as he eyes them.

You’re open mouthed panting in no time in rhythm with his thrusts as your eyes gloss over while looking into his golden ones. He searches your face before using force from his legs to start ramming into your spongy spot and you gasp, “fuck daddy wait!”

“Just wanna make you feel good pup, just let me…” He groans as he continues to fuck into your gspot, making you clench around him sporadically as you begin to moan, “i-if you keep thrusting there-

“You’ll cum? Good, cum for me and i'm not gonna stop either.” He states seriously as he picks up his pace, moving the hand he had around you to your hip and gripping it tightly as he enclosed you against the wall more. You had no choice but to take the harsh thrusts that he was giving you, each retraction taking the air from your lungs before the thrust to your spot delivered intoxicating pleasure.

Your fucking head was getting cloudy as you succumbed to the pleasure, sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts at the body heat you two were producing, the mere sight of you sruggling to determine what you should do makes him go feral. Gripping both of your hips, with a bruising glasp, he makes sure the top half of your back is still resting on the wall as he begins to bring you down on his dick while thrusting up.

“You look so fucking sexy like this! Shit, I love having you on my cock!” He is growling now as you moan incoherent sentences, clinging to him closely you decided on just nodding your head. Too fucked out for anything else as he dominated your throbbing core.

He moans loudly at this as he balls slap aggressively against your ass, “already fucked dumb, pup? Fuckkkkk just how I wanted you.” He says as you start to go weak from the pleasure of your orgasm staring to consume you, moving to place your head in between the crook of his neck. He doesn’t let you though, grabs you by the chin and forces your unfocused eyes to stay on him as drool trickles down your skin from your lolled out tongue.

How could he not watch you go dumb on his cock as he fucks your through your orgasm and into his. You two are going to be so sloppy when he’s done.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

TSUKIII

This fucking Psychopath mean and hard dom.

The most verbal degrader, but also lovesss to humiliate you too.

Just looks at you condescendingly, but is trying to hide his amusement.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart.” is pushing his glasses up with one hand.

Has the other hand buried two fingers deep in your needy cunt.

All you can do is whine because for fucks sake he won’t give you anything, but shallow thrusts. All because

“If you want more then fucking work for it!”

Has you fucking yourself on his fingers in an instant while he snickers and smirks (still being mean) as if his hard on isn’t threatening to fucking cream his pants.

“TSUKIII!” You whine as you grip his wrist that is connected to the fingers inside your dripping cunt.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart” He states with a smirk as he gives you two sharp aimless thrusts into your cunt, making you whine louder.

“P-please just give me more! Stop being so mean!” You say as you look up at his shirtless frame. You know by the look on his face that he is having fun, that he enjoys seeing you so needy and you hate that you’re feeding into it. But it’s so hard, when he has been fingering you to the edge and stopping every time right before you could even release.

“You want more? Then fucking work for it, whore!” He says almost sadistically and you nod as you lift your hips up to meet his fingers. You begin to thrust up into his two nimble, long fingers as you clench around him. Your walls are thankful for the aggressive friction that you are finally getting after 3 near orgasms.

One particular rough thrust hits your g spot and you moan lewdly, tongue almost hanging completely out as you feel the familiar tingles of a strong orgasm. Just as you go to lift your hips up to ram into his fingers in the exact same way, his other hand is pressing you firmly down onto the mattress, halting your attempts.

You fucking choke on a sob as tears obscure your vision and he snickers, “Aw you’re such a crybaby!”

But seeing your flushed face and rising chest as your lip quivers, does it for him. And he’s a little mad at himself because you won and don’t even know it. I mean now he just has to fuck you- you just look so pretty, begging for him after he’s been so fucking mean to you. Crying. Gosh, it makes his dick twitch as precum trickles down to his balls.

Yep, now he’s gonna fuck that needy cunny and give you all that you wanted and then some.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

ATSUMU

Much like Tsuki, he is also a mean and hard dom, but actually has the ability to turn into a soft one.

Loves to degrade too but because he loves feeling superior.

Will be at his meanest when he just lost a match and Def takes it out on that cunt.

Right after like right after the game, he has you riding him in the fucking car.

Is being so mean too, “don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut?”

“Ride my fucking dick then!”

Once you amp it up though, fuck his tune switches so fast. “God yer so fuckin’ wet, gonna breed ya just right bc ya think ya can fuck me like this and get away with it?”

Like sir you were just… anyways he will hug you into his chest and mark your flesh up.

Fills you to the brim while praising and then makes you sit with it leaking into your underwear all the way home

“Come on slut, fully sit on it. I don’t care if it hurts!” Atsumu grumbles as he smacks your ass, making your legs quiver and a few more inches to slip further into your stretching sex.

He’s so big and that asshole barely prepared you before telling you to basically spear yourself on his erect cock. He’s only this mean when he loses and as much as you wish you could say you hate it, you don’t at all.

You love proving him wrong and he always tries to be right, the only difference is he is being meaner right now. That’s why he slams you the rest of the way down on his cock and has your eyes springing open as you arch and shake with a loud cry.

You can’t even express how full you feel or how it feels like he could’ve just broken you, but your pussy can. It’s gushing around him as if you just came, making a mess at his base and his neatly trimmed pubes.

“Don’t ya fuckin’ dare cum yet, don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut!” He growls taking ahold of your neck with his large hand. You whine at this putting your two smaller hands around his forearm and shaking your head ��no’, mind getting cloudy.

He sits up a bit, sweaty back unsticking from his leather seats as he gets inches from your face, still clenching your neck, grasping tighter even.

“Then. Ride. My. Fucking dick!” He snaps, eyes dark as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. You feel so aroused at this point, grinding your hips into his as your walls scream from the weak prep.

He continues to spew mean shit at you, further stimulating you as you begin to ride him faster. He is slipping soon after, groans tumbling out of his mouth as you bounce on his cock like a rabbit.

Whines sharply when you start to clap your ass down on the dick before hugging you to his sweaty chest. Your hard nipples will drag against his skin as he keeps you embraced, strong arms around your back as he sucks purple marks into your skin. Will begin to fuck up into you as he moans, “ya can’t ride me like that and not expect me t-to fill ya up, pretty!”

Doesn’t care for your response, too lost in his own delirium, as he concentrated on ramming all that fat cock into your hole in attempts to get deeper and deeper. And when he hears you finally cry out about how, “ ‘TSUMU! YOU'RE TOO DEEP!”

He is emptying his balls into you, with an iron grip on your hips to keep you firmly planted on him as he repeats, “gonna fuckin’ bread ya! Bread ya so good… look at that cunt drinking it all up ah!…such a good girl.”

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

OSAMU

Is the reverse of his brother- Is primarily a soft dom, but knows when to be a hard/ mean one.

Loves caressing you and giving you touches everywhere.

But is really good at commanding, does it calmly with hot lazy eyes.

“Go a little faster… yea there ya go. Good.”

“Don’t do that baby, ya wouldn’t want me mad right?”

Sometimes that is what you want thoe and you’re being such a brat that he understands too.

That’s when he goes Dom, probably having enough of your bullshit.

Like if you’re teasing and disobeying him, per example, when you’re giving him head.

Without warning will put a firm hand on the back of your head and push you forward roughly.

Will fuck your face so meanly, scolding you about how, “this is what ya wanted.”

“Come on, go a little faster baby.” Osamu commands and his matter of fact tone, the one he uses when he wants you to do something without protest, sends tingles to your cunt as you flutter your eyes up at him.

Deciding to obey this time, even though you know you want something a little more tonight, you begin sucking on his tip a little faster. He nods his head slowly, relishing the scene before him as he tilts his head back.

He’s really getting into it, baby loves when you suck him off on your knees. It always feels so good and he finds himself in this exact position. Head thrown back, eyes shut, one hand holding your makeshift ponytail, and the other on your cheek.

You love the look in his eyes, lustful and lazily hanging open as his pupils flicked down occasionally to drink in your movements. You were growing needy though, panties getting soaked as you rub your thighs together, sucking faster. His hums of approval indicated that he enjoyed this action as he wets his lips and rakes his fingers further through your hair.

Deviously you decided to take him in further and graze your teeth along his skin, something he loved but did not take kindly. It always made him feel way too good like he would cum way sooner than he would want to, so it pissed him off every time you did it. And you knew that it had worked now too when he let out a surprised hiss as you continued to lightly graze your teeth on his member. His breath is shaky as he lets go of the ponytail that he had formed to keep your hair out of your face.

“Fuckin’ mistake” he states seriosuly as his strong hand pushes on the back of your head, lunching you forward and making his cock fully slot itself in your throat. It hurt, it burned, and you were soaking yourself because of the pain. You loved when your daddy turned into such a meanie.

“Can never use yer fuckin’ words huh? Had to be a damn brat.” He grumbles as he starts to slam into your mouth, making tears trickle down the corners of your eyes as you try to keep up with the brutal pace.

He is groaning by now, the force of his thrusts making the veins pop from his arms and legs as your thighs get wet with arousal, “ya like it that much, nasty girl, huh!” You try to tell him yes, but a quick slap to your cheek makes you moan like an absolute slut. It was not enough to hurt, just sting and utterly surprise you, but it was more than enough for you, “don’t fuckin talk when I'm blessing ya with a full mouth.”

His tone is still as calm as ever which makes your pussy throb even more as you nod rapidly, desperately, doe eyes looking up at him as he smirks slightly before continuing to stretch your throat with brutal snaps of his hips. When he begins to cum, he makes sure to thrust fully into you, on his tippy toes, as he firmly plants one hand on the back of your head while using the other to pinch your nose closed.

You cum untouched, choking on his seed and gasping for air as tears stream down your face. But all he says is “ya wanted this and ya liked it, my little masochist.” Osamu has no problem being a sadist for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

HINATA

SERVICE DOM !!!

Such a precious baby (reminds me of Izuku) loves to eat you out, but because he really wants you to feel immense pleasure.

Is so attentive, sucks on your breasts, licks your inner thighs, places kisses on your ankles and legs before diving in.

Holds your hand while using the other to spread you apart.

“You taste so good baby.”

Is the type to shake his head from side to side while eating that pussy.

Will overstim you on accident at first, but realizes he loves how easy it is to reel orgasms out of you when you’re sensitive.

“Cum again for me please?”

Oral with him almost always leads to over stimming… both ways.

“Another kiss here… and here….here.” Hinata mumbles against your skin as you arch into the touch of his soft, wet lips. He started at your own lips, made his way down to sucking your neck and breasts, paying special care to your nipples. Sucks and nibbles on them for so long that you're wet and the buds are throbbing and sore.

He will then move down, dragging his tongue down your stomach, kissing your belly button, licking at your thighs before grabbing them. He spreads you open, groaning at how your cunt is seeping with arousal as he stands up, your legs on his shoulders while he admires you.

Will kiss your ankles as he rubs his underwear covered cock along your slit, collecting your slick and dampening the fabric. When he can no longer kiss your flesh or produce light touches here and there, too needy, he dives in and kisses your pussy.

“Sho!” You gasp as your hands fly to his hair, weaving into the orange tuffs as he licks a long flat tongue up your entire cunt. He’ll sigh against your puffy clit after this, amazed that he gets to taste you whenever he wants, and this starts the feast.

He starts to suck and nip at your folds, cute nose bumping against your clit which makes you squeal each time, “you taste so good baby.” He groans again as he reaches to hold your hand that abandoned his hair in favor of gripping the sheets. Your heart swells at the cute action as you grasp his warm hand back and he reallys starts to get lost in your soaking cunt.

So engrossed in tongue fuckng you while rubbing your clit with his thumb, he doesn’t register your slight warnings of, “S-sho you’re going too f-fast!” Because you weren't used to being touched and cared for so attentively, him being the first to do you like this, and your orgasm was approaching so fast it was shocking you.

Precum is rushing out of his cock when you start cumming on his tongue, but he doesn’t stop there. He starts to shake his head between your legs from side to side, further stimulating you and getting sloppier, as he gulps and slurps and continues to eat you out.

“TOO SENSITIVE!” You yell as you start squirming away, but his hold on your hand just gets tighter as he flicks his eyes up to you, “cum again for me please? I know my beautiful girl can…” He says, hot breath fanning your quivering cunt as his dark eyes look up at you. You whine at his words, but accept and he's back to over-stimulating you, using his tongue to weave through your folds and into your hole, rubbing your clit harder.

You gush so much for him by the end of the night. And he hasn’t even fucked you with that monster stamina yet.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #bokuto smut #tsukishima smut #atsumu smut #osamu smut #hinata smut #haikyuu headcanons #reader insert #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu asks #haikyuu drabbles #www.capricorn.com

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nightingtalehearts · 3 years

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2Ha Thoughts.

I honestly applaud Chen Feiyu for taking on the role of Mo Ran. It's really hard to act out his character, so I said to myself that I wouldn't have any high expectations for the incoming live drama adaptation. Most people think that Feiyu will act out 3 versions of his character - Mo Ran 0.5, Mo Ran 1.0, and Mo Ran 2.0 - but for me, I like to think that there are 4 different ones.

SPOILERS AHEAD!! BE WARNED!!

First, he'll act out as the infamous Taxian-jun, who is a savage, bloodthirsty, and lustful mound. He is quick to anger and won't hesitate on killing anything that's on his path (except umm..of course, Chu Wanning hehe). This version is the evil form of his emotions, the one that the flower brought out, and twisted himself so hard that he would be horrified by the things he've done if he had any left sanity in him. (2Ha readers would, of course, know this as we experience his thoughts and emotions as he was reincarnated in his second life later on.) Everything this person did was on the image of his supposed lover, Shi Mei. He thought he dearly loved him so held everyone, most especially Chu Wanning, in contempt after Shi Mei passed away.

Second, he'll act out as Mo Weiyu. In this version, he is a disciple of Chu Wanning, the Yunheng Elder, and he is also a cultivator and an acquaintace to others, such as Ye Wangxi and Nangong Si. People see him as a person with filial respect (which WE know will be ironic since he fell in love with his shizun later on, for goodness' sake 😂) and average skills - he doesn't have a spiritual weapon yet, nor does he have good calligraphy or communication abilities. He is a hardheaded person, as we can see from his vehement denial on many things, including his affair with Rong Jiu. At this point, he is slowly "falling out of love" from Shi Mei and he begins his path towards redemption, looking for things and silver linings in every situation.

Third, he'll act out as Mo Ran, which subjectively, is the hardest role yet. Even I can't explain him this well because this version of his character is so complex. It can actually be divided into two parts. The first part: as a child, in his heart, he desperately craves and needs love. Mo Ran was the child that loved his mother, who named her as the first person that he liked the most in the world. He was the child who saw the hope and joy in everything despite all the pain and hurt that the world gave him. He was the kid that was beaten down to the dust, yet when he recived food from a stranger, he held the latter dearly in his heart, grateful for his blessings. He's the teen who entered Sisheng Peak, who immediately picked Chu Wanning because he said that he looks the gentlest and the most easy-going. He's the person who only had the purest love for Chu Wanning, and he's also the person who died just to protect him. (For me, this version of him died when he made Shi Mei take him instead of Chu Wanning. At that point he slowly became Taxian-jun, a puppet molded by Shi Mei.) And let's not deny it: just like how Mo Ran unknowingly loved Chu Wanning here, the latter also unknowingly loved him too. As of that point, they didn't "fall in love" with each other, but they were each other's light - they both gave each other the love they both deserved, so at most, they were each other's precious treasures.

The second part is on his next life. He is now known as the cousin of Xue Meng, the adopted nephew of Madam Wang & Xue Zhengming, the sect brothers of A-Mei and A-Meng, and the unruly disciple of Chu Wanning. At this point, he realizes that he may not have loved Shi Mei that deeply as he thought, but take note that he doesn't think that he is in love with his shizun yet. In the contrary, at this point, he is still adapting to his new circumstances, and he is learning new things as well as patching up misunderstandings. From his past life, his personality drastically changes, as shown from the immense change in spiritual weapons, from Bugui to Jiangui. This goes to show that even if they are the same person, he is a breaker that can lead himself to a different path. (Readers would also be giddy when they find out that Jiangui is similar to Tianwen, which symbolizes the deeply encased love he has. It also symbolizes that Mo Ran is an oblivious idiot periodt.)

Mo Ran is also the version who was conflicted by his own emotions. He is the person who begins to understand and notice some things, the person who finds out that his shizun was protecting not only him, but also everybody all along. It is he who sees Chu Wanning truly, and he notices that despite all the harsh wards and cold persona that the latter has, deep inside, he has a soft heart. It's he who notices everything that went wrong in his previous life, and he's also the person who's confused on his past actions. After Chu Wanning died, through Xue Meng drilling it into his brain, he found out that he was protecting him from the shadows, going as far by carrying him through more than three thousand steps to save him. (catch me crying in the corner I CAN'T WITH CHAPTER 97 HUHUHU) He's the person who regretted deeply.

Finally, the last version he'll act out is Mo-zongshi. This version started after the death of Chu Wanning, and also when he was about to go to the underworld. At that point, he saw all the instances where his shizun showed his love. He saw the wontons scene, in which he tried his best to assure his shizun that he doesn't need to be sorry, because on that specific day, the very reason why he was whipped, was because he stole that flower just for Chu Wanning, him. (btw all the symbolisms in this novel ARE INSANE like the flowers?? it could be for either the one mentioned or the ones Shi Mei planted. let's not mention the food: wontons, bowl of soup, bowl of congee, EVEN THE DAMN HOTPOT) He's the person who put back the pieces of the one he loves, brought him back to life, and waited five years for him.

He's a man in grief. He's a man in love.

While he waited for Chu Wanning to wake up, he now became the person that he very much wanted to be when he was younger: a hero. Now, he was Mo-zongshi, a famous cultivator known for his strength and bravery. He took on fights and got injured, but he never once stopped because he did it all for his shizun, to make him proud. Unconsciously, because of his yearning (CATCH ME CRYING AGAIN the quote?? "To yearn unwittingly breaks the willow branch." nOO), he copies Chu Wanning, down to his handwriting, his style of fighting, his outfit, and the way he looks. The person that's deeply in his heart is shown outside, so much that even Nangong Si mistakenly thought that he was Chu Wanning. Later, after Chu Wanning wakes up and after certain circumstances, he realizes that he was and still is in love with him all along, not Shi Mei.

At this point, Chu Wanning also falls in love with him. He saw the goodness in his heart, the strength and bravery he had, and the kindness he showed towards others. Aside from the bonus brownie points which is Mo Ran's looks (not blaming shizun, our husky is too good-looking!!), they now resolve their misunderstandings and their relationship turns deeper. When Mo-zongshi finally confesses...incoming fluff all around.

But like the Mo Ran version, his ending is way too sad. He deserves to know that it wasn't his fault that he turned out this way. It wasn't his fault that he turned out to be evil and hurt his lover. I know this, you know this, all readers know this, Chu Wanning knows it, but he doesn't, which is the most painful thing ever, because how much does it hurt for you to think that you abused the man you love in your past life? I was quite literally sobbing when he mentioned that Chu Wanning was his "God", his dragon, who had come to save him even if he felt like he didn't deserve it. He died, and he was the person who Chu Wanning mourned over, because it wasn't his fault, it never was.

(...i'm so empty inside...chapter 279...that chapter legit suffocated me due to my tears...)

But at the end, all those versions of him are, at core, the same. They may not show it similarly, but they are all strong on their beliefs, they are all stubborn and determined, they all love deeply and fiercely, immensely passionate and protective over the ones they love, and they are all a good person, if you look deeply into his heart.

Through Taxian-jun's dreams and his protection of his lover's corpse, through Mo Weiyu's determination on his redemption, through Mo Ran's regrets and understanding, and through Mo-zongshi's grief and love, it can be said that this character is one that you couldn't help but love. It's been so long, but his character really stood out to me from the many novels I read. This character is complex, with different versions of himself, but at the end of the day, it's still the person we love: our very own husky A-Ran.

#chen feiyu #arthur chen #2ha tag #2ha spoilers #ranwan #taxian jun #mo ran 1.0 #mo ran 2.0 #mo ran 0.5 #hao yi xing #immortality #chu wanning #mo weiyu #dumb husky and his white cat shizun #meatbun doesn't eat meat #luo yunxi #leo luo #hyx #hyx cast

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dylanxmin · 4 years

Text

good for me ∣ jjk

pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

genre; smut, slight fluff

rating; m

warnings; oral (m&f), sub!jungkook, dom!reader, unprotected sex(pls use protection), noona kink, masturbation, use of panties, tying, pet names, slight orgasm denial, mention of cheating,,

word count; 1.6k

summary; jungkook gets caught while jerking off,,

a/n; heyo!! i know it’s not long but this fic was in my wip list, and i don’t even know why,,, hope you’ll enjoy reading this, love y’all ♡

Today had been a highly tiring day for your body and your mind, as you opened the apartment door, sliding inside is the best thing you did. The last promotion came with a bunch of new responsibilities besides a higher salary, and you didn't know if its a good or a bad thing anymore. On the contrary to the daily greetings that you get from your boyfriend, you greeted by the dark apartment. Your eyes narrowed immediately as you feel annoyed by this, uncertainties made you uncomfortable, and your boyfriend already knew not to do this to you yet, here you are looking at your dark apartment with a confused gaze.

''Jungkook, honey?'' you ask at emptiness, not really waiting for an answer but still, it's the best thing you can do. You drop your purse and jacket on the floor, heading to your corridor to check on your boyfriend while looking at your phone to check if you missed any calls or messages from him. However, you didn't get a call or a text from him, just like you thought. Before you dial his number, you hear a little groan from your bedroom, where the slight flare hitting your corridor's walls. You tiptoed to see what was going on there and trying to get yourself ready for a scene that would tear your heart apart, rather, your eyes catch your boyfriend, who sits on the edge of your bed, jerking off with your midnight blue panties on his hand.

Yes, maybe he wasn't cheating on you, but this didn't make everything alright for you, but you can't lie about getting turn on by the view you see. Your mouth waters by hearing his soft moans, and you couldn't help but imagine him under you, moaning just like now. Your thirst was unbearable to hold back, so you pushed the door and made him flinch with the voice. His doe eyes open wide, hand slowing his pace on his arousal. You like how his cheeks blushed, lips parted letting a whisper out. You like this view, even adore to see him when he acts shy around you, just like a little puppy.

''Baby, I... I thought that you were going to leave work late again,'' he pants innocently. You believe his words, but that also doesn't make everything alright. The corner of your mouth quirked up, now his hand completely stopped. ''as you didn't give me a call about leaving early,'' you feel greedier as he speaks, his plump lips spark your hunger, every time he licks them to moist. Another way to moist those thick lips occurs to the corner of your mind, and you start to walk over him, to ease your ache.

''Let's use these lips for something other than talking, huh?'' you whisper at his face, after bending over to equalize your heights, holding his chin up with your forefinger. His eyes get even bigger, and you can hear his slow gulp inches away from him.

''Good boy,'' you say after he nods his head eagerly, licking his lips once again, only to make you suffer. You let out a hiss and without wasting a minute, your hands reach down the tail of his shirt. To your luck, he was only wearing his shirt, and you have a great way to use it.

''Hands up,'' he puts his hands in the air, right after you said, eyes darting over your body, you could feel how he needs to relax as his dick flinches from the touch of your fingers on his stomach. You tie him with his shirt on the wrist, arms standing on the air, probably going to hurt after a couple of minutes, but both of you liked the pain. Both at causing and receiving.

''Now, I want you to lay back, and hold yourself while I'm riding your pretty face,'' you lean on him to put a kiss on his lips, the other thing you been waiting to do all day long. ''and I'm keeping the panties, okay?'' you add, after breaking your kiss.

''Y-yes Ma'am,'' he says under his breath, eyes still eating you from head to toe. Your heart warms with the sight of him and his eagerness, but it's too soon to have mercy on him, so you push him with your forefinger by his chest. His dick hits his stomach, at the same time his back meets with the silk sheets.

Before you take your place above his face, you lean on his dick, only to tease him with your breaths, fingertips move up and down on his thick thighs. You touch down his thigh with your teeth, causing him to flex his abs under your sight. Your fingers wrap his fat length, stealing your name from his lips.

''You like that baby? You want more?'' he holds his head up, eyes burning with desire, answering your offer by nodding. Your panties soaking wet by your dripping cunt, but you wanted to play with him. ''Oh, is that so?'' you tighten your grip on his dick, moving up and down.

''Noo...na!'' he lets out a sob after you wrap your tongue on his dick, encircling around his member, hearing your name slipping from his lips. It wasn't hard to understand that he would cum right before you enter the room, as his precum fills your mouth. You grab his balls, rubbing them, and squeeze them slightly, to hear his begs more.

''Y/N... I'm c-close,'' he warns you before you take your hands from him, and he starts to whine, struggle under you. You start to kiss his stomach, take a track up to his neck, continuing to tease him with your nails by diving his flesh. When you reach his face, you see how he shuts his eyes tightly, and you let out a soft chuckle.

''It's my turn,'' you part your legs to adjust yourself above his face, and your eyes met right before his tongue touches your entrance. You slide your panties aside while his tongue playing your entrance, with the warm affection, you let your head fall back. You move your legs by leaning him, nails dig into his chest.

''R-right there, Kookie!'' you let out a loud moan when his tongue fills you, forcing to go deeper. You reach down to his dick when you move your hand, his moan causes a vibration on your nook, and you cry out once again. ''S-so good, baby,'' you continue to praise him, but when his tongue finds your clit, you shut your eyes.

You could only moan above him, while his tongue sucking, nipping your clit, tormenting you with every tongue move, and you feel that you're dragging to your edge. Your stroke gets sloppier when an impulsive joy fills your lower stomach.

''Kook, stop baby,'' you get up from his face, ''I want to come around your dick, honey,'' you reassure him, as his puppy eyes staring at you. His face dripping your wetness, licking his lips to collect your ruins. A shiver heads over to your spine, the sight of him is so rousing for you at the moment, and you couldn't wait for another minute to take your place over his dick.

''You are such a good boy for me, aren't you?' he takes a deep breath, chest goes up and down rapidly, ''I need you to fill me up, baby. I have been dreaming of this all-day. You can do that, don't you?'' you bend your head to your left a bit, waiting for his answer before taking his cock deep in you.

''Yes. Yes, please,'' his needy voice is your last drop, and you take him slowly, feeling every inch of him. ''Ahh, you are so tight Y/N,'' you hear your wetness as his cock stretching you, open you wide and fills you well. You take a moment before moving your hips.

''You... y-you fill me so well... honey,'' your words cut by your moves. Both of you start to moan as you rock your hips at his, bouncing on him. Every move, every touch of him causes you great bliss. And you let your head fall back once again when the tip of him reaches your g-spot, heart pounding as the delight hits your core.

You keep your moves above him, watching him flex under you, thighs tenses with your rapid moves. Jungkook holds himself hard not to touch your boobs, as they bouncing with your every move under his sight, but he knows that you won't let him, so he holds himself back. His ends getting closer just like you, both of your eyes slightly shut because of the intense pleasure.

''Noona, I-I want... to come,'' his almost crying voice, and his dick touching your sweet spot with every thrust, take you to your climax.

''Come with me Kookie,'' your body trembles above him, both of you moans loudly as your cums meets, and dripping by your legs. You move your body while he still cums in you with the last drop of your strength, stinging yet, pleasing euphoria fills in you. You lay right beside him, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room.

''Let me take that shirt,'' you reach his wrist to take the shirt, and he lets a groan when you take it, moves his shoulder to ease the pain. ''Am I too hard on you?'' you kiss his forehead, your heart softens.

''I'm okay, baby,'' he smiles to reassure you, taking you into a hug, and kisses you by the hair. ''But, we need to get clean up,'' he whispers between his breaths, as you both feeling worn out from the intense scene. He helps you to get up, turning the water on, and prepares the bath for you two, while you watching his naked ass.

A light of lust heading to your lower part and your mind already getting busy with the new things you had on your mind, only for your good boy.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #goldenclosetnet #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bts scenarios #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #sub jungkook #dylanxmin

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danjo-ao3 · 3 years

Text

When Ashes Fall p.5

Pairing: Reaper/female Reader

Summary: You are a combat medic working for Overwatch, when a mission goes south and you cross paths with Talon mercenary Reaper. But will he kill you on the spot or is there more to this encounter?

Rating: 18+

Tags/Warnings: rape/non-con, violence, blood, emotional manipulation, blackmail, kidnapping

Word count: 52,215 (in 5 parts)

A/N: the warnings are clear on this one. Yes, there is going to be rape/non-con, and it’s going to get explicit. I strongly advise anyone who is not into that kind of story to turn back around, because this is going to get pretty heavy and will finally be the non-con story with Reaper that I had always wanted to write.

Part 5 / 5 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

***

“Ah!”

Your feeble cry ended in a long drawn-out moan. Sometime after Reaper had started to rock into you again, he was beginning to caress you everywhere he could. It was as if he had needed to fuck you hard and fast to get it out of his system, and now he had all the time in the world to actually pay attention.

At least that’s what it felt like to you.

He was getting you to that level of arousal again that had you sweating and moaning uncontrollably. When he was not kissing or licking you somewhere, he murmured Spanish words against your skin.

You didn’t like where this was going any more than what had happened a few moments ago.

It all felt too real, too emotional. Your nerves were raw, the edges frayed and vulnerable.

When he pressed forward it was with an unhurried roll of his hips that hit you differently now, he stared at your face with half lidded eyes, red orbs drawn to the shape of your mouth. Whenever he did something you reacted to with a moan or a bite to your lips, he seemed to take mental note of it. And then he did it again. And again, until you were a whimpering, shuddering mess.

Now that your body had had some time to adjust to his size, it was a lot more comfortable. Pleasurable even.

It really felt incredible.

And you hated him so much for it.

This wasn’t supposed to feel good at all, he was still fucking raping you. And here you were, moaning around his cock like a whore. What the hell was wrong with you?

Don’t be so hard on yourself, a small voice chided you.

You weren’t exactly sure which was worse; the way he had simply taken what he wanted from you, or the way he was obviously trying to get you to enjoy your own abuse.

All of it was fucking with your head.

And it felt like he’d been at it for hours now. He was obviously trying to get you to come on his dick this time, then why was he drawing it out like this?

It was too hot in your room, the friction between you two was stifling, Reaper himself was practically burning your skin where he was touching you, waves of heat radiated off of him, at the same time that black mist was swirling around and was soothingly cool where it kissed your sweaty body.

You moaned in both agony and pleasure, although the latter was definitely outshining anything else you felt at the moment. It was building again, another approaching orgasm promising sweet release.

It was obvious that Reaper was holding himself back, he was working you up and determined to get you off this time. So there was no getting out of this without you reaching that peak.

Another plethora of foreign words whispered against your ear sent shivers all over your body, your legs shook where they lay spread around his hips, the muscles no longer able to function properly. Your mind was slowly starting to drift amidst the heat and how your head swayed with his thrusts.

“—ine, mariquita.”

His last words made your ears perk up, while you’d started to zone out he had partially shifted back to English. But you’d only caught the end of the sentence.

You wanted to ask what he’d said but just as you opened your mouth to speak he hit you at that angle that had you moan in abandon.

His teeth grazed against your jaw, and your heart jumped into your throat at the feeling.

“Mine,” he repeated, and in the darkness his red eyes flashed where they stared into yours. The expression on his face was overwhelming. Ecstasy and pleasure was written all over it, but underneath was that always present otherworldly demonic quality that was so terrifying it left you speechless.

A full bodied sob shook you as he leaned even closer and hissed “You’re mine.” There was nothing remotely human in the way he sounded, you couldn’t describe how his voice grated over your senses, how it rattled you to the core and took away the very last remnants of hope that you’d dared to hold on to.

Now that he had found the angle that had you wailing in pleasure, he was hitting that spot mercilessly. All you could do was try to keep breathing through it, you were no longer able to stop making sounds.

He was hitting you just right, but not fast enough to send you over the edge.

Your voice was giving out at one point, screeching and hoarse moans was all that came forth now. Eyes screwed shut in exhaustion and concentration, you balled your hands into fists above where he was still holding them down onto the mattress.

You couldn’t take this anymore.

“Please,” you whispered hoarsely, eyes wet and stinging.

And by some strange kind of miracle Reaper actually listened. Gradually, he sped up. It only took a few more long strokes of his cock for you to reach your release with a long broken whimper.

When you zoned back in, you felt how he came inside you one more time, accompanied by a low growl that he released into the darkness of your room.

For a long time nothing happened, Reaper was still between your legs, his hands around your wrists and you two were just breathing hard. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, you were too tired of having to see him. Of that smug look of satisfaction on his stupid, handsome demon face.

Finally, he released your arms, pulled back and slowly slid out of you. His seed was running down between your thighs and into your sheets, it made you want to die.

Please just leave, you thought desperately. You just wanted to be left alone already, to pretend none of this ever happened. To erase his touch from your body with the hottest water your pathetic little shower could provide.

Reaper got off the bed and it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, like you could breathe again. Instinctively, you turned to the side and into a fetal position, your body trembling as you hugged yourself.

But you didn’t hear him leave at all, he seemed to be going into your bathroom instead.

He returned to the bed shortly, the mattress dipped underneath his weight and soon his heat settled next to you again. Your skin crawled in revulsion as he brought a cool, damp cloth against the wound on your neck.

How considerate. You wanted to punch him so badly.

“Don’t,” you rasped quietly, defiance and anger scratching at the surface of your repressed emotions.

He said nothing, but removed the cloth and pressed his body against your backside instead, effectively spooning you with his strong, ashen arms around your middle.

Hot tears were burning your eyes once more. When would this torment end, why couldn’t he leave you alone already? You wanted to put your clothes back on, get a barrier between yourself and him, anything.

Another very long moment went by before he spoke up.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know.”

You were stunned into silence once more.

What?

Goodness, was he going to tell you his life story now?

You didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage him to stay longer than necessary. You didn’t care for his vulnerable-side-act at all.

But he went on, unbothered by your silence.

“I haven’t felt anything in… years.” His voice ghosted over your shoulder between small kisses. “Not since you touched me. There is something in that blood of yours that makes me–” he stopped and searched for the right words, his fingers squeezing your hip. “–it drives me insane.” A dark chuckle that caused goosebumps to rise along your arms. “More than usual.”

Fuck, you didn’t want to hear any of this, his fucked up excuse for raping you.

“How nice for you.”

“Don’t be like that mariquita.” How dare he sound so nonchalant and amused at this. “I’m sorry about your neck,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to the wound. It stung and you winced, trying to pull away from Reaper’s embrace. He held on tightly, nosing into your neck further, inhaling your scent. “I won’t bite you next time,” he promised with his teeth bared in a grin and your heart came to a stop.

Next time?

He had just confirmed your worst fear. Your head spun around to stare at him in shock. But his smirk spoke volumes.

“No,” you whispered feebly, head shaking in denial.

Reaper chuckled darkly, one hand holding your face in a deceivingly soft touch.

“I don’t think you listened to me,” his face fell a little. “I need this, I need to feel this.” An edge of madness had crept into his eyes, into the way he spoke those words through his teeth, and how the previously gentle hold of his hands turned into unforgiving grips of desperation.

You whined. No, no, no… not again, never again. When a tear escaped your wide, fearful eyes, it seemed to startle Reaper out of his current headspace. His fingers relaxed again, his thumb even wiped away the moisture from your cheek.

His face had gone back to his usual expression of disinterest and general broodiness.

“You are mine,” he said, a finality to his tone that stood at odds with the soft caresses he made to your face and sides. When you didn’t answer him–because, what were you supposed to say to that?–he turned you around to face him fully and pulled you closely.

At this point, there was no fight left in you, he was able to manipulate your body however he saw fit. His right hand resumed his spot on the side of your face, angling it up so you had to look him in the eyes while he was pressed against you again.

The two of you were just staring at each other, Reaper with satisfaction, and you with silent resignation.

When he pulled you towards him you managed to whisper “I hate you,” before he closed the distance and kissed you.

***

The days were blending together while you were holed up alone in your room. A simple sick note to the lab excused your absence, explaining in a few words that you would not be present for a couple of days.

Surprisingly, Casey came to visit you on the third day. She had brought chicken soup and encouraging words. You’d noticed how she hadn’t taken a single step inside, even though you’d offered her a seat.

A turtleneck sweater was hiding the marks on your throat from view, even though they had begun to fade already thanks to your accelerated healing. Still, you were paranoid that they were visible and you absolutely did not want to have that conversation with anyone.

A knock at your door startled you from where you sat on your armchair eating the lukewarm soup that tasted like watered down broth, even though your stomach was thankful for the sustenance, you hadn’t eaten since you’d called in sick. Thinking it was Casey again, you didn’t bother to look through the door’s peephole and opened it.

Ogundimu was standing on the other side, white elegantly cut suit and gold frame sunglasses accentuating his expensive taste in clothes. With a small smile he greeted you and boldly stepped inside, almost knocking you out of his way had you not made room for him.

You watched him as he looked around, assessing your living conditions. Just now you realized that your room was pretty messy. Clothes were lying on the ground, the bed was still unmade from three nights ago. You were sleeping in your armchair now, you couldn’t even look at the bed for longer than a second.

Ogundimu looked out of place in your small shabby room, he did not belong here at all.

“Did you need something?” You asked after a few seconds, already annoyed at his presence.

“Actually,” he said and turned around to you, taking off his glasses in the process, “I wanted to see if there was something you needed.” His eyes roamed over your front, no doubt judging your choice of clothes and messy hair.

Self-consciously, you rubbed at your arm.

“I’m good,” you lied.

“Excellent, because I need you in fighting condition in two days.”

You just gawked at him. Was he talking about another mission? Another mission… with Reaper? Cold dread settled in your stomach.

“I–I don’t know if I…” you stammered and averted your eyes to the floor.

You heard Ogundimu take a few steps towards you.

“I almost forgot,” he murmured and held out a chip towards you. Confused, you looked up at him again. “Here’s the pin code for that bank account we spoke about.”

You knew there must have been various emotions flitting across your face right then from the way Ogundimu was studying you. Shock, denial, sadness, and anger made you ball your hands into fists.

After a deep breath to calm you down you answered him.

“I don’t want your money.”

His eyes squinted, first in suspicion, but then his mouth split in a small grin.

“The mission brief is tomorrow at 0700 sharp,” Ogundimu changed the subject and laid the chip down on your coffee table, put his shades back on and was moving to your door again. “Don’t be late,” he said before he left.

Three days. It had only been three days since you’d last seen Reaper. It was too soon, you couldn’t deal with him again. Not yet, not ever again really. With a big sigh you sunk into your armchair, the cold soup’s smell nauseating. Your eyes fell onto the small chip lying so offendingly on the table. With a grunt you grabbed it and stuffed it into your pants pocket so you didn’t have to see it anymore.

***

You woke in a cold sweat on your chair, another nightmare had woken you early. The bedside table clock read a few minutes after six in the morning. A shaking clammy hand wiped at your face when you sat up.

Ouch, your back was hurting so much from the awkward position you’d slept in. One arm had fallen asleep and was now tingling unpleasantly. You were still tired, so unbelievably tired. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep at all at night, you never knew if Reaper would simply appear out of thin air when you weren’t looking. And when you actually managed to drift off it was to night terrors of a very specific kind, with whispered words about pleasure and pain, making you relive that night in vivid detail.

“Fucking hell,” you sighed heavily and pushed off from the chair to drag yourself into the bathroom. Today was the stupid brief for some stupid mission, so you had to look presentable, you guessed. You’d really slacked off these past few days, but you didn’t care what anyone thought.

A quick shower and brushed teeth had you feel a little better at least, although donning the informal Talon uniform jacket with the embroidered insignia made your stomach turn. That, and probably the fact that you’d only eaten one bowl of soup these past four days. Before you would go to that meeting you’d grab something to eat in the cafeteria.

On your way there you met Dr. O’Deorain who sipped coffee from a porcelain cup.

She called your name and waited until you approached her.

“Seeing you here, up and about, I’m guessing you’ll be working at the lab today?” Her voice was stern, as was her face. She was probably annoyed that you’d been absent for so long.

As you were contemplating what to say, you figured that now she had seen you it was hard to pretend to be sick anymore.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I will.”

“Good. There’s a lot to be done,” she answered, then took a swig from her cup. “Also, I made some adjustments to your glove. We will do some testing later.” With that off her chest she just turned and left, not bothering to wait for your answer.

After you managed to chew on a sandwich for a few minutes you made your way to the briefing room, cup of coffee still in hand. There were only a few other agents seated around the big table in the middle, talking amongst themselves. Again you chose a seat far in the back, keeping to yourself and sipping from your paper cup sporadically.

Just a few seconds later Ogundimu entered the room. All eyes were on him as he took his place at the head of the table.

He stood tall and imposing, his fingertips grazed the tabletop. “Good morning,” he said, his eyes making the round. “On your screens are the coordinates for our latest mission to Numbani.”

In front of you, a holo screen popped up. An orange map was showing a pulsing spot right over Numbani, in the top left corner a photo of a girl, smiling at the camera, underneath her name: Efi Rotìmí Opèyèmi Oluwadaré Gabrielle Oladele.

Another assassination target. You felt nauseous again. Cold sweat broke out on your skin. They wanted to kill a child. What the hell were you still doing here?

While Ogundimu went on about specifics for their approach you zoned out.

Why were you even surprised at this point? They killed people all the time after all, lots of them. They apparently had no qualms about forced prostitution either, so why had you assumed they’d draw the line at child murder?

You couldn’t look away from her happy face, her carefree countenance was so at odds with this sinister plan to kill her it made bile rise in your throat.

The door banging open all of a sudden startled you so much you thought your heart was jumping out of your chest.

At the entrance stood Reaper in his usual attire, mask and claws in place. You sunk back into your chair, you hadn’t been prepared to see him again so soon.

Reaper was still as a statue, he looked around the room once before his gaze stopped on you for a second. Your breath caught as you were staring back at him, he was the most terrifying in that mask.

The claws on his hands tightened into fists once, before his mask was turned to Ogundimu, whom he had interrupted mid sentence.

“What is this?” Reaper asked, anger dripping from his gravelly voice.

“Gabriel, can I help you?” Ogundimu offered with a smile. He pulled away from the table and gestured to the screen behind him. “We are in the middle of a briefing.”

“I can see that, Akande.” He really sounded pissed now, and for once it was nice to not have that anger directed at you. He stepped inside and towards Ogundimu before continuing a little quieter. “What I’m asking is why I haven’t been informed of this mission.”

Huh, that was interesting.

Ogundimu smiled a placating smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Before he gave Reaper an answer he walked to the door and then turned to the agents who were deathly silent in the face of Reaper’s anger.

“I believe we managed to cover all the important parts, I’ll forward all the details to your communicators, you’re dismissed.”

You’ve never seen anyone leave this fast from a mission brief and you mentally rolled your eyes at their fear. If they thought Reaper was scary now they should see him with blood on his lips and a crazed smile.

Oh, your mind was wandering into dangerous territory, you shook your head and got up from your seat last, creeping along the side of the table and toward Ogundimu who held the door open for everyone.

“Not you,” Ogundimu said and put his cybernetic arm between you and the exit.

Shit, you mentally cursed and cast wary eyes up to him.

“Go and sit down.” He gestured stony faced to the seat closest to him. You did so reluctantly, anxiety skyrocketing. When you had sat down you opted to watch your own hands where they fiddled with the material of your pants underneath the table. Why did he want you to be present?

Ogundimu closed the door gently before moving towards Reaper again, who was still standing in his spot at the head of the table.

“You weren’t informed because you are busy with your own missions, are you not?” Ogundimu’s eyes were narrowed as he addressed the other man. Reaper crossed his arms in front of his chest. From where you sat you could see that both of them were about the same height as they stood toe to toe.

“Cut the crap, we both know this has nothing to do with that,” Reaper growled beneath his mask.

Ogundimu smiled. “I am surprised. You’re usually not even present for briefings.”

“That’s because I’m usually the one devising the fucking plan for those missions.” Reaper was seething. “Who planned this one, Akande?” The way he was saying the other’s name tended to sound like an insult.

Ogundimu leaned his head back a fraction. “Maximilien and I did.”

Reaper huffed. “Should have known you would go over my head like this sooner or later.”

“Oh, come now, Gabe—”

“Don’t fucking Gabe me now.” Reaper interrupted him, his arms back at his sides, hands balled into fists. You could hear the leather of his gloves straining from where you sat. “Honestly, I don’t care for your mission.”

“Then why the scene?”

Reaper stepped right into Ogundimu’s space, head at an angle. “Why is she here?”

They both looked at you, and you couldn’t even meet their eyes, you cast your gaze back down to your hands with frayed nerves.

“We need a medic, don’t we?”

“Then take another one.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s—” Reaper stopped abruptly, and you raised your head tentatively to peek at him through your lashes.

You saw a nasty smile spread across Ogundimu’s face. “Because she’s what?”

Reaper had backed down a few steps, his body language had changed from angry to uncertain. It was weird to see him like that.

“She’s–nothing.” He hissed and sat down in the chair at the very head of the table. “She can’t even heal enough without fainting.”

Why did that comment hurt?

Ogundimu turned to you, his mouth still curled into a smile as he studied you. You hugged yourself with one arm, this whole situation was unbearably uncomfortable.

“So she’s nothing to you?” Heavy steps came to stop behind you, Ogundimu’s presence was unsettling.

Reaper only grunted, arms crossed once more, casually sitting in that massive chair.

Ogundimu’s flesh and bone hand landed on your shoulder like it did so many times before. But this time it felt different, he hadn’t done it for your benefit, not to placate you, not to comfort you, but as an interlude. Somehow you knew what was about to happen, you shivered in fear.

“If that is the case,” he murmured and dropped his cybernetic arm on your other shoulder as well before bringing it forward to wrap his mechanical fingers around your throat and squeeze. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I killed her, right?”

Your mind drew blank, as if on their own accord your eyes shot to Reaper as your mouth opened to suck in a breath.

But he just sat there, totally unphased by what was happening.

When Ogundimu saw no reaction from the other man, he gradually tightened his grip on your windpipe until you whimpered and tried to pry his hand off with your own.

“You’d kill one of your few medics just to prove a point?” Reaper asked, his head tilted.

You stared at him incredulously.

Had all of Reaper’s talk about you belonging to him been untrue? If so you’d be screwed now, because apparently you were of no use for Ogundimu besides being a way to find out about Reaper’s loyalties and motivations.

“Try me,” Ogundimu said heatedly.

You groaned when the pressure became so unbearable that you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull any moment. This was even worse than the time Reaper was strangling you, he hadn’t squeezed nearly as hard as Ogundimu. Already your vision was fading, bright spots were dancing in front of your closed lids and panic was making your heart pound wildly against your chest.

Tears were streaming down your face when the pressure suddenly let off and you could breathe again. It hurt, oh it hurt so much when you tried to breathe two mouthfuls at a time. His hand was still around your neck though, still holding you upright, the back of your head now pressed against his abdomen behind you.

“You have a point,” the man said behind you, “it would be quite the waste.”

Then he leaned down to your level.

“Sorry, this isn’t personal,” Ogundimu whispered in your ear deceptively soft. Then he hauled you up from your seat, kicked aside the chair from right below you and crowded you against the table until you were bent over it, his crotch pushing into you from behind. The hand around your throat disappeared completely and instead grabbed a handful of your hair, pulled tight and forced you to look at Reaper again.

“You wouldn’t mind if I—” Ogundimu rolled his hips into you and you gasped in shock. “—borrowed your little toy?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. No, no, no… what the hell was happening? Was Ogundimu really going to… just to piss off Reaper?

“No!” You couldn’t help it, this was too much. You couldn’t even bear the thought.

From eyes blurred by tears you saw Reaper slowly unraveling his arms, leaning forward in his seat, the hollow eyes of his mask boring into yours. He was breathing faster, the way his armor was rising and falling was visible to you even from across the table.

“Go on, fuck her. I don’t care.”

Well, shit. He wouldn’t help you after all. Ogundimu’s plan wasn’t working, Reaper wasn’t reacting at all and you didn’t want to imagine how far the man behind you was willing to go to prove that he won.

“Right,” Ogundimu breathed and pushed your head to the hard wood of the table, his other hand wandering along your back to push your pants down. You wailed when you felt the cool air of the room against your backside, your arms flailing uselessly in the air beside you. There was nothing you could do to stop him, his grip was too strong. Your cheek hurt where it was pressed to the table, his cybernetic fingers cold and unyielding against your scalp.

“Please don’t do this,” you gasped and Ogundimu leaned down to speak to you.

“Maybe you can tell me if he’s telling the truth, hm?”

Why was he so interested in knowing about all of this?

“He–he said to me that,” you hiccuped, “that he needs my healing to feel something.”

“Is that so?” Ogundimu sounded curious, his hand on your back massaging soothing circles into your muscles.

Reaper scoffed. “And what if I said that?” His claws were scratching along the wood, you could hear it where your ear was pressed to the surface, loud and clear.

“Tell me something, dear,” the man behind you said right next to your ear, “did you sleep with him?”

Well, you wouldn’t describe being raped as sleeping with someone. But as far as technicalities went it had happened.

You really didn’t want to admit it out loud, you trembled as you clenched your teeth together, staring straight ahead at Reaper who had the power to stop this at any moment if he so desired, but didn’t. And you wanted to scream at him, to ask him where his talk about you being his was now, why he wasn’t telling Ogundimu to back the fuck off.

When you didn’t answer, the man behind you pressed his groin against your backside through your panties, reminding you that he was in control. “Tell me.”

With jerky movements you nodded once, every fiber of your being repulsed at having to concede like this.

Ogundimu chuckled. “I knew it,” he said, triumph sounding in his voice. “I knew it from that very first mission I had assigned her to you. That she was affecting you, the marks on her neck told me all about it.” He stopped the rubbing on your back. “But I’d have never guessed that it was because of her healing.” He sounded curious now, “Maybe I should sample it myself.”

Suddenly he stepped away from you far enough to flip you over into your back, your hair half covered your face where it stuck to your wet cheek. Seeing him above you like this brought back the memories of what happened in the lab before Reaper had come to your room that night and you panicked.

You tried to hit him with your fists where you could, but of course it didn’t help at all, your legs were trapped in your own pants between your knees, and he simply caught your wrists and pinned them above your head in his massive cybernetic first. You could hear the machinery whirring inside it.

“Easy now,” he warned you darkly, all traces of mirth gone from his features. “I’m trying to let you up so you can dress yourself, alright?”

You didn’t believe him, but nodded hesitantly anyway.

Slowly, he let go of your wrists and pulled away three steps to give you space, he didn’t even look at you anymore, instead he watched Reaper whom you could only see from your peripheral as a dark shadow.

Quickly, you got up and off the table, pulled up your pants and shakily ran a hand through your messy hair.

Ogundimu had taken a seat in one of the chairs and beckoned you now.

On wobbly legs you awkwardly crossed the distance and came to a halt in front of him. Reaper was behind you now, you couldn’t see him at all anymore, but Ogundimu could.

“Come,” he said with a half smile and patted his lap. Uncertain, you looked from his legs up to his face, taking deep breaths to calm down your still racing heart. Cautiously you wanted to sit down across his legs, but he shook his head.

With a scowl you straddled his lap instead, your hands coming to rest on your own thighs, balled to fists.

“Good. Now, please show me how you heal someone.”

You swallowed around a very dry throat, you could still feel his fist around it when you did.

“It depends on where they’re hurt,” you answered meekly, unable to look him in the eyes.

He hummed in thought. “Well, then show me where you healed our dear friend Gabriel.” Without having to check you knew that Ogundimu was looking at Reaper when he said that.

With an internal sigh you raised your right arm, still slightly bluish in tint from that last episode with Dr. O’Deorain and hesitantly touched his sternum through the dark red dress shirt he was wearing.

You could feel the vibration of his chuckle. “There? That’s adorable,” he commented and you felt your cheeks burn in humiliation.

You tried to ignore his warmth underneath your thighs and palm, instead closing your eyes and sending out a bit of healing. He didn’t react at first, but then he hummed in delight.

“I can see how someone could enjoy this, but,” he grabbed your wrist gently with his flesh hand, “I believe it might be more... authentic without a barrier, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” He flashed one of his brilliant smiles and your stomach sunk. “Would you be so kind and help me with that?” His voice had lowered considerably as he motioned to his front, the air around you became warmer while you could swear that an icy wind was blowing against your back.

With shaking fingers you clumsily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, getting them open one by one, then you slightly pulled the two halves apart, revealing a powerful chest underneath that actually looked like it was straight from a bodybuilding magazine. It was almost ridiculous how ripped Ogundimu was.

The blush on your cheeks deepened when he caught you staring, a small smirk played around his full lips.

“Like what you see?” He murmured only for you, half lidded eyes looking down at you.

“Maybe if it wasn’t you,” you answered in annoyance, then pressed your hand against his skin right in the same spot as before.

Ogundimu laughed. “She’s feisty. I can see why you like her,” he said to Reaper again.

His laughter faded quickly though when you sent out the strongest healing you were capable of, trying to get him to shut up for once.

And he did. The only sound that he made was a grunt, his eyes closed seemingly of their own volition and his mouth went slack as he leaned his head back a fraction.

You couldn’t help but feel proud in this moment. That your ability was that strong it rendered one of the most powerful men in the world speechless.

Oh, but you hadn’t thought of how you had neglected your own body for a little too long now, these past few days had been nothing but malnourishment and lack of sleep. And you felt it in your bones now. Already your hand started slipping down the man’s chest, your head felt light and everything sounding more distant. Quickly, you stopped the healing output and drew your arm back to cradle it against your chest.

You wanted to get up and off his lap too, but strong arms prevented you from getting further away. Instead, they pulled you closer and right into the man in front of you.

“I need to lie down—” you wanted to say but plush lips on yours stopped you from finishing. Wide eyed you stared ahead, not able to focus on anything. When Ogundimu cradled your head in his hand you let out a weak whimper, eyes falling shut with fatigue.

Between Ogundimu’s hands on you, you also felt that icy wind all around now, it made you shiver as it crept along your sides. Weakly, you opened your eyes and what you could finally focus on was a black swirling mist right behind Ogundimu, coalescing into the shape of Reaper.

Red, burning embers shone brightly in the sockets of his mask, his fist rising. You were able to draw back right before he knocked Ogundimu over the head. The man slumped to the side and you hurriedly rushed off of his lap, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand.

“You done?” Reaper growled, cracking his neck.

“I…” you didn’t know what to say. This would have consequences, right? A man like Ogundimu would definitely not like being knocked out like that. “I need to get out of here,” you mumbled and rushed to the exit.

Just as you opened the door Reaper stopped you, his claws digging into your upper arm. Wordlessly, he pulled you outside and dragged you through the hallways.

You stumbled along, through doors and down stairs until you didn’t know where you were anymore, Reaper’s hold on you not budging. You were still feeling light headed from healing Ogundimu.

“Wait,” you called out after a few minutes, breathing heavy, and tried to pull free. “Where are we going?”

Reaper whirled around, his claws dug into your arm painfully. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

He took a step towards you and lowered his voice. “What do you think will happen when Akande wakes up?” He crowded you against a nearby wall. Even though he was wearing his mask you were certain he was glaring at you.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to stick around and find out?”

You trembled when you looked into the dark holes of his mask, did you want to stay at this Talon base and face Ogundimu’s wrath, or go with the man who had hurt and abused you many times already?

It was like choosing between drowning or burning to death, really.

“What about Caleb?” You whispered frantically. “I can’t leave when he’s still here, they’ll kill him… or worse.”

Reaper’s hold on you loosened a little, then his hands fell away completely and he sighed.

“Your little Overwatch comrade is not here.”

What was he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not here, we never had him.”

Something inside you broke at that admission. They never had him? That was not possible.

”Liar!” You slid sideways along the wall, away from him. “You’re just saying that so I’ll come with you.”

With a snarl Reaper grabbed at his mask, pulled it off and simply threw it on the ground. You flinched when it clanked against the tile of the hallway loudly.

Seeing him maskless again was like a slap to the face, and you felt your knees buckle when the memories hit you from that night.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying,” he growled, his irises burning embers, face contorted in frustration.

You didn’t know what to believe anymore, if what he said was true that would mean that everything you had done had been… totally unnecessary.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Dr. O’Deorain.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Ogundimu.

And you wouldn’t have had to… submit to Reaper.

Yes, he had used Caleb to get what he wanted as well. How were you supposed to know when he was lying or not?

“Do you honestly think I would ever trust you, especially now that I know you’ve been lying to me?”

Reaper frowned, eyes narrowing when he approached you again.

“I’ll show you then,” he said and wanted to grab your wrist, but stopped mid-air, instead he turned and went down the nearby staircase.

He just left you standing there, as if he knew you’d follow eventually.

And you did, because… what else were you supposed to do? He was right, as soon as Ogundimu woke up there would be hell to pay. And you’d be his number one target to get to Reaper. He had just seen that the masked mercenary wasn’t someone who shared his toys.

With a deep breath you collected yourself and quickly followed him down the stairs.

His long coat was swishing behind him whenever he rounded a corner, his shoulders drawn and tense. Finally, you both reached the very bottom of the staircase, the heavy security door leading outside opened noiselessly for you and after another long corridor, and passing multiple guards, you reached a very nondescript looking pair of double doors.

Reaper just went ahead as if he owned the place, which was probably at least partially true, whenever you studied the guards’ faces for any sign of trouble, they quickly averted their eyes; one of them even saluted. Reaper was a feared man. No wonder. Plus, they had definitely never seen his face before, even though it was partially hidden in the darkness of his hood.

The last guard hurried to enter his access code into a brightly glowing terminal to grant you access to the holding cells.

“Are you here often?” You asked Reaper when the heavy door behind you closed again. The way he had just waltzed in here spoke of some kind of routine. You wondered about the implications… Was he an interrogator or something equally sinister?

“No,” he answered shortly while he moved to the side, gesturing to the three cells in front of you. “He’s not in here.”

The small rooms all looked the same, each had a narrow bench, a sink, toilet and a cot crammed against the undecorated, bland walls. They looked just like the one from that security camera footage Ogundimu had shown you that first day you had been brought here.

You took a cautious step forward, peering into the first cell with apprehension. Who would be in there and what state would they be in?

But as you searched for a person you found... nothing. There was nobody in any of the cells. Startled, you whirled around.

“There is no one here,” you stated the obvious.

“Right. Now, let’s go.”

“No. This can’t be all of the cells? Surely, Talon has more than three.”

Reaper sighed. “Obviously not,” he ground out, frustration evident in his voice.

“But–where is Caleb then?” This was impossible, you had seen the video. Had they been able to alter the footage? You had heard that these things were possible, but never thought you’d fall for them.

Could it be he was… dead?

“No clue. But he was never here”

You just stood there, gaping at Reaper, who had his arms crossed in front of him again. Anger gnawed at you, how could they fool you like that, weren’t you smarter than that?

So, what now?

Your hesitation was interrupted by Reaper now finally grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the exit.

“We have to leave.” He sounded really urgent now, almost anxious. It was weird to see him like that, the usually so composed and unbothered man now reduced to this. Had you not been a part of it you would have laughed at his distress. But, well. You were a part of it, a crucial one at that, and you were in deep shit. Even more than usual.

“Fine,” you yielded, tagging along once more.

You left the holding cells under the curious eyes of the guards, when one of them made a weird face at seeing Reaper clutching your arm, you pulled it free of his grasp.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you said when you were out of earshot.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Uh-huh. And that is where?”

Visibly shaking in frustration, Reaper turned around to you. “Can you just shut up for one sec—” A loud alarm was sounding through speakers in the ceiling, interrupting him.

You two were staring at each other, the realization that you were now wanted raising goosebumps on your arms. Heart in your throat, you didn’t hesitate when Reaper grabbed your arm once more and you both hurried along the halls and staircases until you finally reached a door that seemed to be an emergency exit.

When Reaper ripped it open, a guard stood on the other side, who had just been talking into his earpiece and upon realizing who you were, fumbled for his gun.

The next things were happening in such quick succession, you were not sure how you even managed to keep track.

Reaper pushed you to the side, brought his arms in front of himself as if to cross them and reached into the folds of his coat. The dark mist was rising off of him so densely, you couldn’t see his face for a second. When he pulled out his hands from the blackness he was holding his shotguns in them. The guard was still trying to get a grip on his own gun when Reaper shot him point blank in the chest.

You managed not to cry out in shock, even though he had been so close that it had felt like he’d shot you instead of the poor bastard who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with Reaper.

“Always said Max hires the most incompetent idiots,” he muttered to himself, then looked over his shoulder at you. “Come on.”

Without looking at the man torn to pieces on the floor, you followed Reaper into an underground garage that seemed to be deserted.

You passed many fancy looking hover cars until Reaper stopped before a bulky one that was definitely armored. He pushed you towards the car door.

“Get in,” he urged and you quickly went for the handle. The door opened with a swish, but just as you wanted to climb in, Reaper held you back. “Sorry, mariquita,” he rasped against your ear, “but for this part I need you to sleep a little.”

You felt a prick on your neck and a cool substance entering your bloodstream, the last thing you could remember was how the world tilted when you fell forward onto the car seat and everything went black.

***

You came to in a small room, it was semi dark and quiet. A pounding headache was making itself known when you blinked a few times.

What had happened? The last thing you remembered was how Reaper had pushed you into the armored car.

Oh shit, you were somewhere off base. He kidnapped you.

With a jolt you sat upright on the duvet of the bed. When you looked around you realized that you were in some kind of log cabin, wooden walls and furnishings gave it away. It was very rustic, outdated even. A stale smell of dust and earthly moisture was in the air, not very pleasant.

You winced when the pain in your head pounded angrily at you for sitting up so quickly.

Carefully, you shifted to the edge of the bed and put your feet on the ground, the room spun a little, but you managed to get it under control with a few deep breaths.

Where the hell had Reaper brought you, and where was he anyway? All you knew was that he was going to pay for drugging you like that.

Not far away was the door, it looked so inviting, you just had to check. Slowly, you got up and tip-toed over, your heart beating a little faster. Unconsciously holding your breath you tried the handle and–the door was locked. Even though you had expected it, it was still so disappointing.

Next to the door was a window with the curtains drawn, a sliver of light fell through the gaps. When you pulled them aside you saw trees and bushes, the setting sun filtering through the leaves, nothing else. Shit, so you really were in the woods?!

You couldn’t even open the window to climb outside, there were iron bars out in front, probably to prevent looters or bears from entering. Who knew, you hadn’t ever been in one of those log cabins before.

With a sigh you opened the widow to let in some fresh air, it smelled really nice at least and you stood there a little longer, trying to see something beyond the many pines. It was so quiet here, the only sounds you could discern were that of a woodpecker and the wind in the trees.

What would happen once Reaper came back? What if he didn’t come at all... and you were left here…

A violent shiver ran through you. Somehow both options sounded terrible.

You moved away from the window and into the small kitchenette across the room that consisted of a fridge, a sink and a small camping burner on a narrow counter. The fridge contained nothing but air, it wasn’t even running. The cabinets above revealed the same, layers of dust and mouse droppings. You slammed them shut in disgust.

Besides the small kitchen and the bed you’d woken up in, there was only a rackety looking table with a single chair crammed into the corner and a small fireplace.

The entire place had seen better days, the floor was covered in dust and dirt and cobwebs hung from the low ceiling.

There was a small broom leaning against the wall of the fireplace, among other utensils for tending to the fire.

There was nothing else you could do, so you picked up the broom with the bent bristles and started sweeping the wooden floor. Ash and dust swirled up, the few sunbeams peeking through the small single window made it look like they were dancing. Occasionally you had to sneeze, but you kept going and gathered the dirt in a pile.

Just as you checked around the room to see if you missed a spot, you heard the crunching of leaves and gravel caused by heavy footsteps through the open window. Reaper had returned after all.

Carefully, you put the broom back. The lock clicked and then Reaper swung the door inwards. The resulting wind blew your small dirt pile over your feet.

He was wearing something else now, not his usual leather cloak or armor, it was a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head and dark blue combat pants. The sight startled you, you’d never seen him look so... casual before. He almost looked normal if it hadn’t been for the red glowing eyes and ashen skin.

With crossed arms you faced him. “What is this place?” You didn’t beat around the bush, even though you were terrified of what the future held for you.

Reaper still stood in the doorway, carrying something in his arms. With a casual kick he closed the door behind him, then moved to the kitchen. You noted how he didn’t lock the door again. His heavy boots thudded dully on the floorboards. He dropped a brown paper bag onto the counter and started removing items from it, mostly cans and bottles.

“This used to be my getaway when I was still–” he broke off, faltered when he put down another can, “–before I joined Talon.” He picked up a water bottle and held it out to you.

You eyed him in suspicion, but you were thirsty, now that you thought about it you were parched. Quickly, you went to him and grabbed the proffered bottle, took a few steps back and downed half of it in one go.

“What did you give me anyway?” You felt a little nauseous as you idly rubbed the spot of the injection at your neck.

“It was just a small dosage of tranquilizer, its side-effects should wear off soon,” he said offhandedly, putting the cans into the cabinets while he spoke.

You waited until he was finished and turned around to you again.

“Let me go.”

Silence stretched between you, he was leaning against the kitchen counter while you had taken on quite an aggressive stance. He didn’t react much besides tilting his head back a fraction to look down his nose at you, his mouth in a permanent frown.

“Alright.”

You stood stock-still, not daring to breathe. Had you heard right?

“W–What?”

“You can go,” he elaborated, crossing his arms in front of himself.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. You can go if you can find your way out of the forest.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you. Take me away from here and somewhere safe.” You’ve had enough. This would be your last stand.

“We are safe right here.”

“You know what I mean. I want to go home.” Your voice broke on the last word, emotion was causing your vocal chords to waver. Damn him for giving you hope like that.

“Home?” He sounded skeptical. His clothes rustled when he moved away from the counter and towards you. His footsteps pounded in the rhythm of the pain in your head. You didn’t look up as he approached you, you just waited for his feet to appear in front of you.

“If that is what you want.”

You did look up at him now.

“Since when does it matter what I want?” You couldn’t help but feel bitter.

His red eyes searched yours, the expression on his face may have been his usual frown, but there was something else underneath it; a sadness you were only now able to detect. Was he trying to make you feel bad, guilty? Well, it was not working.

“What are you implying?” His voice had become a little quieter.

You scoffed at him, incredulous.

“Ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you I have been subjected to the worst shit I’ve ever had to endure. And not just from you, no...but you really took the cake.”

You watched his eyes narrow the longer you went on.

“And all this time I tried to just make it through, with the little bit of hope left that maybe, maybe Overwatch will help. Maybe they come and find me, Lena, Winston, anyone. To make this nightmare end.” You had to stop a second to take a breath, Reaper was still quietly standing in front of you, arms crossed once more. “But obviously you people at Talon are great at hiding in plain sight, I bet you even made it look like nobody survived that explosion, just like you swindled me into thinking that Caleb was still alive and in your custody.”

“Overwatch is not coming.”

“I know that, okay?!” You screamed at him now, tears of rage had gathered in your eyes.

“Remember what I told you about them. They don’t care for you, they are still the same people from before. The same big children playing war with the help of their private soldiers.”

“That’s not true!” You couldn’t stand to hear this again, you knew that Overwatch was so much more than that, had seen first hand all the good you’d done all over the globe. “You’re just still salty about what happened to you.”

“Careful,” he warned you, voice gravelly.

But you’d had it, there was no going back now. The two of you were having this conversation and you would tell him everything that’s been on your mind and had been too afraid to say.

“No, I’m done. I’m... so tired of it all. Of constantly being afraid, of always having to tip-toe around your big egos.” You waved your hands in the air to emphasize your point. “Men like you can’t take any form of criticism without throwing a fit.”

Reaper took a step towards you and you moved one back.

“Men like me?”

“Yes, you’re all the same. Ogundimu and you, none of you can take no for an answer.”

His eyes had started burning brighter than before, a shadow had fallen over his face. “Don’t compare me to Akande,” he growled, stepping even further into your personal space and you yielded.

“I’ll compare you to whatever the hell I want,” you didn’t budge on your stance even though he was crowding you against a wall.

Were you scared? Yes, shitless. But were you going to shut up? Not in the foreseeable future it seemed.

What did you have to lose now? There was no Caleb dangling above your head, Reaper had nothing. And your own well being you stopped caring for after having your free will stripped away. But you were taking it back now, whatever the cost.

Reaper was standing mere centimeters away, your chests were almost touching as he was looking down at you, his black mist slowly rising from the depths of his hood.

His hand came up and towards your face, you flinched because you thought he was finally going to hit you for your insolence. But he didn’t even touch you, he drew the hand back as if he’d burned himself.

“Are you done insulting me yet?”

You blinked at him.

“Did you get it all off your chest?”

Taking a breath you wanted to keep going, but he interrupted you.

“You should eat something,” he finally finished, then pulled away to give you space again.

“I don’t want to eat, I want to leave.”

“You will eat first. Want to collapse in the middle of the forest?”

Grumbling under your breath you pushed off the wall and towards the kitchen. Since when was he that considerate, was he actually going to help you get away?

You leaned against the counter while he opened a can of ravioli and put it on the burner.

Neither of you spoke as he was stirring the can with a spoon, even though there was still so much more you wanted to say.

After a few minutes he turned the burner off and wordlessly set the can with the steaming ravioli on the counter next to you, spoon still inside.

“Don’t...you want any?” You asked hesitantly, not sure how you felt about being served food by Reaper of all people.

“I don’t eat,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“You don’t–what? How do you even live?”

He tilted his head to the side, raising one brow. “I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous statement and decided against opening that can of worms.

“... doesn’t live…” you shoveled the mushy ravioli into your mouth and mumbled to yourself between spoonfuls. At this point you were convinced that he was saying things to mess with your head.

The food was awful, but at the same time heavenly on your empty stomach. There was only a little food left in the can when you addressed him again.

“So when I’m finished, you’ll take me out of here?” You would not forget what he said earlier.

“Under one condition,” he said gravely, the doughy pasta almost got stuck in your throat when you tried to swallow it.

“...which is?” Oh, how you hated the suspense. Already the ravioli sat like a rock in your stomach.

He made sure you were paying attention before continuing.

“You spend one last night with me.”

The spoon clattered loudly on the table, scattering tomato sauce everywhere.

“No,” you answered automatically, moving away from the counter and creating more space between you two.

There was no way you were going to do this again, especially under the pretense of consent.

Reaper didn’t seem surprised by your outburst, he must have assumed you’d react in such a fashion. His eyes were flat when he slowly began moving.

“Why not, have I not been good to you?” He was talking so calmly, reassuringly, while moving towards you.

Was he fucking serious?

You tried to keep the distance intact, but there was the wall behind you again, damn but this hut was too small.

“Good to me?” You wanted to sound outraged, but it came out more like a squeak.

He carried on. “Did I leave you wanting?” You didn’t like how his voice dropped into that purr, the way he carried himself when he approached you.

“Don’t you dare say that.” He had hurt you. He acted like what had happened had been some sort of romantic encounter?!

Your pulse sped up when you felt the immovable wood against your back while Reaper was still advancing. Cornered once more, the story of your life.

“S–Stop!”

But he kept coming until he could reach out to gently brush a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“You’re hurting my feelings, mariquita. Did you not enjoy yourself?” He murmured while his fingers brushed along your jaw and down your neck. You hated how his touch was not just revolting to you anymore, but it stirred something else deep inside. Somehow your brain was the only one remembering how traumatizing your last night together had been, your body seemed to only focus on how he had managed to make you come undone.

The sheer indignation you felt at his words that caused too many insults and accusations to want to come out all at once rendered you speechless.

When you didn’t answer he leaned further in, his breath tickled your ear when he spoke next. “Have I not been a generous lover?”

Oh god, you could feel the heat spread from your belly further outward, into your chest and also lower. A blush was forming on your cheeks while listening to his sensual deep voice telling you these intimate things.

“Shut up,” you whispered, trying in vain to get your reaction under control. His hands fell to your sides, holding your hips in place while he pressed a knee between your legs, pushing it against you as he had done before.

The sensation made you gasp.

“You know I can please you, hermosa,” he said heatedly against your neck.

Ugh. Yeah he was right, he was so well endowed and knew how to use what he’d been given, it had been nothing short of amazing, but at the same time you still hated this man’s guts for forcing it upon you. And for trying to do it again.

But what were you supposed to do? If you didn’t accept, well, would he still do it? Probably. It was as you’d said; he couldn’t take no for an answer. So there was only one thing you could do.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, drew back until you could see his face again.

“Promise... promise you’ll let me go.” You didn’t even recognize your own voice in that moment, it sounded so small and broken.

“I promise,” he hissed breathlessly against your face.

Your eyes searched his endlessly red ones, for what you didn’t even know... the truth, for lies? Whatever it was, you didn’t find it. But there was nothing you could do besides accepting. As foolish as it sounded, you had to try everything to get back home.

After what felt like an eternity of simply staring at him you finally surrendered, closed your eyes and nodded.

With your breath held you anticipated his next move now that you had given him permission, but nothing happened. Tentatively, you cracked an eye open and tried to see what he was waiting for.

When he saw that you were looking at him, he took a small step backwards, lifted his arms and pulled off his hoodie. Underneath he wore a simple grey t-shirt that accentuated his physique just right. Quickly, you averted your eyes again, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. The blush on your cheeks came back full force when he went for his shirt as well.

You didn’t know what to do, yes you had agreed to it but actually doing it was something completely different.

But as you were contemplating, Reaper moved forward again, his fingers tilting your head up by the chin so you had to look him in the face.

“Kiss me,” he murmured in his deep, smoky voice while focusing on your mouth. As if on its own, your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a nervous habit. His pupils dilated as he watched you, and your pulse spiked in reaction.

Uncertain, you moved your head forward a fraction, trying to close the distance between you. As you got closer, your eyes started to flutter shut, after that you followed the smell of him and the warmth he was exuding.

His hand had fallen away from your chin about half-way, but now that you pressed your lips to his, it came back up to cradle your cheek instead. His other hand brushed along your arm, down to your wrist and pulled it up to his chest to lay your palm against his pectoral.

As soon as he did that, you knew what he wanted. And you gave it to him.

You sent out healing strong enough to mend a big flesh wound, and just as you had anticipated he gasped against your mouth. He had not expected you to go all in at once. Maybe if you overpowered him with your healing he would forget about everything else...

Or this could go horribly wrong and the exact opposite might happen.

Before you could muse on it any more, Reaper licked over your lips, pushing them open gently, sensually. He was really good at this, at making you forget that you should be afraid–although he was even better at reminding you that you should be. You shuddered at the memory of him above you in the semi dark of your room and how his demonic eyes had burned brightly when he had pushed into you.

You closed your eyes so you could pretend this was somebody else, someone who cared about you, genuinely loved you. And not because they liked to use your abilities whenever they felt like it.

His wicked tongue didn’t even feel that foreign anymore as it explored your mouth in its unhurriedness. It even managed to coax your own to move against him until you were actually kissing him back in much the same way.

The kiss you were sharing was so intense it made your head spin and weak in the knees, but fortunately Reaper was already stepping right into you before you collapsed, his hands on your waist and thigh, and wrapped one of your legs around his hips. He pushed you up and finally your other leg around him, holding you against the wall and above the ground with his body. All the while he was kissing you senseless so you hadn’t even really noticed what he had done until you felt him pressed against you so closely.

A small whimper escaped you when he squeezed your thighs, then he drew back from the kiss, eyes half-lidded and heavy.

Reaper studied you for just a second, then snaked his arm around your back and moved away from the wall with you wrapped around him. Hastily, you broke off the healing stream and brought your arms behind his neck in order to not fall backwards.

It felt like you were betraying yourself, as if all the resistance you’d put up in the past had been a game that you two had played. That you had secretly wanted this all along and had simply played hard to get.

You forcefully reminded yourself that this would be the last time, the very last time this happened, whether he was telling the truth or not.

The trip over to the bed was a very brief one, already he was lowering you onto the soft surface, his knees between your legs and propped up on his arms above you.

His fingers were touching your cheek, following the contour of your bottom lip, then immediately he leaned back in to kiss you again, while his hands explored your body. This time it was him who divested you of your shirt and bra, his big hands on your bare skin were leaving you shivering.

Soon he had pulled off his pants, you got a glimpse of his erection from the corner of your eyes when he had surged back in to slot your mouths together once more. He pushed it against your thigh, letting you get a feel.

“This is what you do to me,” he groaned, fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

Suddenly he paused.

Wary of his unexpected hesitation, you searched his eyes. They were so dark and their pupils dilated when he whispered to you, “May I?”

Your throat closed at his question. Really, was he going to pretend that this was anything more than you agreeing to something in order to get home? He really wanted you to fake your consent even more, humiliate you. Like you hadn’t already agreed to this.

“A little late to act like a gentleman now, isn’t it?” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your voice.

Reaper simply chuckled at that, took it as affirmation apparently, and pulled the fabric down and off of your legs.

Your heart beat frantically when he parted your legs for him to get in between, propped up on his elbows and dangerously close to your core. He held your gaze with his as he brushed along the inside of one of your thighs, raising goosebumps in the wake of his fingers. When he touched your folds you closed your eyes and released the breath you’d been holding.

“Look at me, marquita,” he commanded in his low voice. You forced yourself to open your eyes again and watched as he was slowly lowering his head to kiss you between your legs. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of his warm breath and lips against you. Already he started to use his tongue, its wet and slippery surface felt foreign against your nether lips.

Reaper hummed in delight when he licked over your clit experimentally and you couldn’t keep the small moan from escaping. He was still making eye contact with you when he ventured further downward and traced around your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

It was hard to keep your eyes on him like this when all you wanted to do was to hide. The blush on your cheeks was burning hotter than ever, one of your arms flew up to cover your mouth with the back of your hand when he licked inside of you. He moaned obscenely at tasting you like this and even his own eyes were fluttering shut.

He swirled his tongue back upwards and around to stimulate every part he could possibly reach, it felt so incredibly good, you sighed and moaned with every flick of his tongue.

His ministrations were so careful, so gentle, you were starting to relax. As your muscles unclenched and stopped quivering, your legs fell open the rest of the way. Reaper took this as an invitation to finally start tenderly sucking your clit, elevating your pleasure to the next level.

“Oh god–,” you gasped when he’d done it, but quickly bit down on your hand instead to stifle your outburst.

“Hmm, let me hear you,” he purred in between suckling and nipping at your sensitive nub.

You still tried to keep it down, which proved to be increasingly difficult with the way he was working you now. His mouth was moving faster, a little harder against you, sharp teeth dangerously grazing against your skin while his hands had started to stroke your thighs, up and down.

He was playing you like an instrument, every single touch served the greater purpose of bearing you to him further, opening you up completely. You quickly got lost in the sensations, everything he did felt incredibly good. So good, you didn’t want it to stop.

Now that was a scary thought.

His mouth briefly left you before he surged back in and you felt another touch, slowly stroking around your entrance. Reaper pushed a single finger inside you and it just slipped in without any resistance, you were so wet from his expert oral stimulation.

Oh shit, this was really doing it for you. This was exactly as you liked it, how could he know this, you had only spent one night together.

His finger pumped in and out of you slowly, in just the right angle that had you mewling into the back of your hand.

“I wanna hear you,” Reaper reminded you after stopping for just the small second it took to utter these words, and then kept at it again, but you were too occupied with trying to comprehend what was happening to you.

Just a little longer and you would come.

Just a little–

With one last long lick he pulled away completely, the cry of disappointment you made got stuck in your throat as you tried to suppress it unsuccessfully.

It frightened you how close you’d come to begging in that instance…

Reaper’s look of mild amusement he’d had before had disappeared, and it filled you with dread once more.

“I said,” he rasped as he took a hold of your arms, pulling you up to his level so you sat in his lap, “I want to hear you.”

His dick was brushing against your inner thigh, almost touching your sex. You couldn’t help yourself, nervously you glanced down and were reminded again of just how big he was, how much it had hurt the first time he’d entered you.

You swallowed drily.

“I–I’m...,” sorry you wanted to whisper, not sure why you were trying to apologize, but feeling that it was what he wanted at that moment. But you steered clear of it, you had nothing to be sorry for. “...okay.” You chose to say instead.

He studied you for a little while, his hard grip on your arms loosening, and idly stroking them instead. That spark of mischief entered his eyes once more, a small smirk played around his lips.

Slowly he dipped his head to brush his mouth over yours, his beard was tickling you.

“Did you like that?” He breathed against you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping it playfully.

Why was he talking so damn much?

There was no point in lying, but even as you nodded you wondered how your previous reactions could have been interpreted as anything but enjoyment. Again, he wanted you to confirm things you’d rather not. What an ass.

“You want to know what I like?” He gave you a brief kiss before leaning back and pulling you atop of himself. You held yourself up with your hands on both sides of his head. His erection was now firmly pressed against your ass. He was still smirking when he continued. “A pretty girl riding my dick.”

Your inner walls clenched at his crude words, combined with the feeling of his hard member poking your bottom, it made your entire body blush.

He really wanted you to take an active role in this, huh?

His hands were going over your back and further down to grab your ass to guide it against his cock, rubbing it between your soaked folds. Your arms buckled where you were still trying to hold yourself above him, your breath coming in short gasps.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock slicking up with your juices.

You were starting to hyperventilate.

“W–wait, I’m…” You couldn’t take him yet! You were not prepared, you didn’t want it to hurt like last time. “I need…please…”

You were… crying, why were you crying? He wasn’t even doing anything yet.

It was just like the first time he did this to you, even though you weren’t held down or at gunpoint, he managed to hold you captive, to force you to do anything he desired.

“Shh,” he was comforting you, calloused thumb wiping away your tears. “Calm down.”

You sobbed.

And then there were lips on yours, kissing away the tears that had run into your mouth, stealing away their saltiness and replacing it with Reaper’s own taste, a far more pleasant one if you were being honest.

The kiss turned from soothing to passionate in just a few seconds. His hands were roaming over your back in gentle circles, pressing your bodies together and into the most intimate embrace you’d shared yet.

You just wanted to forget about where you were and especially who you were with in that moment, you closed your burning eyes and kissed him until you were short of breath.

With eyes almost as red as his, you were looking at him, his fingers still stroking you softly.

There was no time to dwell on the feelings this embrace had just evoked, how Reaper had been able to comfort you with a single kiss. You knew you’d go crazy if you thought about it any longer. It was time to get this over and done with. Fuck it, this might as well hurt.

You sniffed once, pushed yourself up on shaking arms and wiped away the remaining moisture from your lashes. With determination you got up on your knees and shimmied back a little to line yourself up with his straining erection. One of your hands took a hold of it to guide it into yourself.

Oh, you really should have prepared…fuck, he was stretching you impossibly wide. You had to stop for a moment to catch your breath. With both hands on Reaper’s chest, you closed your eyes in concentration, willing your body to relax. But it was just so much to take in. You lifted up a fraction and sank down another centimeter, trying to keep your breathing under control.

Gritting your teeth against the pain and stretch you pushed yourself and took him the rest of the way.

Trembling like a leaf, hands balled into fists against his skin, you tried to accommodate to his girth. Your head hung low, hair falling around your face like a curtain.

You could feel your heartbeat both in your chest and where he was nestled between your legs.

Reaper’s hand gently cradled your face in his palm, tilting your head up to look at him. Once more his thumb brushed over your parted lips, dipping inside to press onto your tongue and you could only stare at the sea of his red eyes burning with the intensity of hellfire. Drool was running down your chin and Reaper’s fingers, but you didn’t really notice it, too occupied with the feeling of being filled so completely.

Reaper’s lips were parted as well when he watched his finger disappear into the cavern of your mouth. His other hand had landed on your butt, squeezing it once before pushing you down onto him while elevating his hips at the same time.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull when he moved inside you, a sob racked your body and then, as if on autopilot your lips closed around the digit in your mouth, sucking on it softly.

Reaper groaned loudly. “That’s it, hermosa.” His jaw clenched when you moved tentatively, just rotated your hips to get more comfortable. “Hnng, yes.”

It was fascinating–in a morbid kind of way–to watch his reactions; how he sighed when you lifted up and sunk back down, the way he closed his eyes in bliss when you ground against him with short thrusts or how his grip on you faltered when you scratched over his chest with your nails as you started to feel the effects of having him inside of you.

Slowly, the friction of his dick against your inner walls was starting to feel good. Relief was making you bold, you threw your head back and released a moan when you managed to find the right angle.

Immediately, his hands travelled to your breasts, kneading them and playing with your nipples. It only heightened your pleasure, spurring you on and increasing the speed with which you were moving.

All the emotions you’d felt in the last couple of days were warring within you. Hurt, despair, pleasure, hope... all of them were mixed together into a potent cocktail burning in your chest and threatening to spill out at any moment.

You felt your orgasm approach with a vengeance, it promised to pull you under with its intensity.

And intense it was. You screamed when you came, clutching at Reaper wherever you could, holding on for dear life.

Still breathing heavily, you opened your eyes and found you were lying on his chest, his normally slow heartbeat much quicker against your ear. You wanted to push away, but couldn’t move more than your eyes.

Reaper kissed the top of your head, then the world was spinning as your cheek was now pressed against a pillow and you lay face down on the bed.

He positioned you so you were on your knees, ass in the air and head low. A short moment of panic made you whimper in distress, but Reaper put his big hand onto the small of your back, effectively keeping you in place.

He was pushing into you from behind, and even though you had become somewhat accustomed to his girth, you still gasped when he had bottomed out.

One of his hands was gripping your hip, the other was sliding into your hair and pushing your head into the pillow, then he draped himself over you to speak into your ear.

“I’ll make sure Akande will never touch you again.” He was referring to the incident in the briefing room. The memory of being held in this exact position by Ogundimu made you shiver. “You have no idea–” he started pounding into you, hard and fast, and you whined with the force of it against your sensitive nerves. “–how much I wanted to kill him when he did.”

You and me both, you wanted to say but couldn’t answer because he was fucking you in earnest now, took away your ability to form coherent sentences.

With gritted teeth you fisted the sheets, bracing against his thrusts. Between your nerves shooting rapid fire signals to your brain and your conscious slightly worrying about Reaper’s promise contradicting what he just said, you felt a second orgasm coming. It sent you over the edge once more and into blissful oblivion for a few seconds, a dry sob the only sound you made.

Reaper had hauled you even closer as he was brutally pistoning in and out of you until, finally, he stilled, buried deep inside of you, spilling his release.

For a few seconds nothing happened.

Then, Reaper pulled out of you and you collapsed onto the bed.

Was it… over?

You didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the darkness that had slowly crept over the room you guessed it was nighttime.

You felt him against your side, the warmth radiating off of him was stifling. With one arm he turned you around and towards him. You stared with drooping eyes at his scarred chest instead of his face.

He pressed you against him, tucking your head underneath his chin, and somehow it was this act of intimacy that was crossing a line for you. With your arms in front you pushed away from his chest.

“Alright…” you had to clear your throat. “I did what you wanted.” A small sniff gave away your uncertainty, the fear that now you’d done his bidding it was time for him to tell you it had all been a bluff.

“Night’s not over, mariquita.”

You glared at him. He really had the nerve to smirk.

“You’re still gonna–” you had to stop when his fingertips brushed over your ribs and over a nipple, tickling you and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “–gonna get me out of here.”

When he didn’t respond, you grabbed his wrist to stop his wandering hand, forcing him to acknowledge you.

His eyes flashed when you’d touched him, the smirk on his face morphing into a sly grin that showed off his sharp teeth.

“What if I don’t?”

What?

“Oh, no! No, you will!” You exclaimed. “You promised!”

“Show me how much you want it, then,” he purred, “I’m all yours, hermosa.”

You sunk back a fraction, taken aback by his words. What did he want you to do? You’d already taken an active role in this, and now he was asking for even more. He was insatiable.

“But I…”

“What do you want to do to me?” He murmured and leaned back, one hand going behind his head, confident that you’d play along.

Oh, there were several things you wanted to do to him, but none of them were going in the direction he was hoping.

“I want…” you trailed off, eyes squinting at where you were still holding his wrist somehow. As you were thinking of all the things that had happened to you, all the abuse you’d suffered, there really was only one thing coming to mind.

“I want to hurt you.”

There, you said it. What was he going to say to that? With a challenge in your eyes you sized him up.

You could see his pupils dilate, then he pulled his arm towards himself and you with it until you sat straddled on his abdomen, because you were not letting go. Why weren’t you letting go?

“Then hurt me,” he whispered heatedly, offering his throat in surrender.

Shit, this was… not what you’d anticipated to happen. What could you even do to hurt him? He was a wraith, whatever the fuck that meant.

“I’m a healer,” you said more to yourself than him, trying to come up with anything to get out of this situation that was growing uncomfortable very fast.

“Yes, and look what I did to you,” he goaded, letting the arm that was still in your grip fall limp. “I tricked you,” he went on, that fire in his eyes burning just a little brighter. “I lied and deceived you. Took advantage of you.”

So he really wanted you to lash out? Somehow you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his obvious taunt, but your grip on his wrist was tightening in fury. He was right, he had done all those things. And they were all things you hated him for, really wanted to retaliate.

“You took everything from me,” you whispered, your throat closing up in anger and sadness. Something in his expression changed at that, but you couldn’t discern what it was.

“I have,” he answered quietly, “Because you’re mine.”

You backhanded him, and watched his head snap to the side with it, the small smile temporarily knocked off his face.

“I’m not fucking yours,” you spat at him.

“Yeah you are, mariquita.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Never.”

You punched him in the jaw, the impact rattled your bones painfully, but the satisfaction at seeing the surprise in his eyes had been worth it.

Blood was spreading on his lips where they split, and he grinned at you, the red liquid had already coated those pearly whites as well.

“Was that all?” he asked, licking at the blood on his mouth.

You saw red, and with a cry you wrapped both your hands around his throat. The muscles and tendons were moving under your palms, you squeezed as hard as you could.

His smirk was not diminishing, but his eyes were closing, the endless sea of red pulsing with his heartbeat that you felt where you had your hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

Your grip was not loosening, his smirk had disappeared as his mouth was open and drawing shallow breaths while you watched his features, now pressing down on his windpipe with your whole upper body.

He groaned, closed his eyes and breathed “Go on, kill me. Put me out of my misery.”

Was this what you were doing? He cannot be killed, you remembered, but wished that it weren’t true. If only you could, physically and mentally… you weren’t sure. You’d actually never killed anyone before, and had hoped you’d never have to. But could you make an exception to that now? It’s what he deserved, after all. For taking away the family and friends you’d found in Overwatch, your freedom, your dignity.

“Then die,” you sobbed, tears were running down your face and dropping onto your fingers that were white-knuckled. It was what he deserved.

What he…

...deserved.

You leaned back, relieving the pressure on his neck.

Looks like I can’t do it, you though and hung your head.

That was when you felt his hands on your thighs, idly stroking along the outside, his grip becoming stronger by the second now that you weren’t strangling him anymore. Your own hands were just resting against his skin now, your whole body trembled.

Reaper brushed his hands up your sides, over your arms and into your hair, pulled you down and kissed you hungrily, the metallic taste of his blood shocking to your senses.

He easily reversed your positions and sunk inside you while still devouring your mouth with his own.

The night was far from over, he fucked you so many times you lost count, but he made sure you came every single time. You passed out sometime in the morning hours before the sun came up with his head between your thighs once more, your exhaustion finally catching up.

***

The sun was shining when you two stopped at the edge of the forest. It was a beautiful day and you felt giddy at the prospect of being free.

The entire way from the cottage through the forest Reaper hadn’t spoken to you, hadn’t uttered a single word and you’d been grateful for that because you weren’t sure you’d have been able to answer. The only thing on your mind had been freedom.

Walking had proven to be quite difficult after last night’s activities and you got the distinct feeling that it had been his intention of making sure you’d feel him for a week at least.

But as you stood there now, the trees behind you and a road in front, something held you back. Maybe it was still the thought of being trapped, of them having Caleb that kept you in place, glued to Reaper’s side. It was just too good to be true.

A question was burning in the back of your mind, ever since last night.

“Why are you letting me go?”

Reaper was wearing his black hoodie again, hood drawn over his head and veiling a part of his face.

“Shit,” he sighed after a moment. “I don’t know.” He kicked at a pine cone. “It’s just that… everything I touch… I kill,” he said after turning to you again. “And I don’t want you… to die.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it stirred some weird feelings you did not want to acknowledge at this point. So instead, you looked at your own feet, stuffed your hands into your pant’s pockets and just nodded jerkily.

Silence stretched between you and you wondered if you were supposed to say something… thank you? No way.

“So, um…” you swallowed drily, “I guess I’ll be going then?” Your heart beat like a rabbit’s, afraid he might change his mind.

“If you follow the road for about two miles you’ll find a small village with a shop and a phone,” he said in a gravelly tone, gazing into the direction he had just mentioned. He looked so… defeated.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly, practically vibrating with the urge to get going.

When he didn’t elaborate, you took a step and set foot on the road, walking slowly at first.

“Remember what I said about Overwatch,” he called after you, but you were already walking faster, faster until you broke into a run. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of seeing him following you.

You ran as fast as you could, tears streaming from your eyes, carried away by the wind blowing around your nose. You were free, free. Adrenaline was urging you along, any fatigue you might have felt blown away.

When you reached the city limits you almost collapsed, sobbing in relief.

It was finally over.

#reaper x reader #reader x reaper #reaper x you #you x reaper #fanfiction #overwatch #gabriel reyes #non-

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 3 years

Text

ADM Director's Cut: Iktibith E

This is in reply to THIS ask. Director's Cut is below the cut

I fled far away from the Company, my breath coming in ragged spurts as tears blurred my vision. All I could hope for was that nobody would follow me. I just wanted to be left alone.

Soon my feet left the familiar cobblestone of Rivendell’s paths and trod upon the plush, green grass. I had no plan of where I would go; I just knew I needed to get away.

Suddenly, I found myself on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the rushing river below. It reminded me of the stream back in Lothlorien, except more wild and unpredictable.

This part right here, where I began to describe Imladris, was kinda interesting to do because I just started to unconsciously start to compare it with Lothlorien and tried to connect Estel to it in some way.

A soft sigh escaped my trembling lips as I thought back to my foster mother and how she would take me out to the stream every day for a walk, balancing on the stones out in the gurgling waters and laughing if one of us got wet.

Oooo, this was interesting too because it was the very first time I ever mentioned Estel's foster mother and her backstory. This is truly where she began to grow as a character and take shape. Also note that I never specifically mention that her foster mother is an Elf... But it's kinda a given since I talk about her living within Lothlorien for a time.

I could still see her long brown locks tumbling down onto her shoulders, and blue eyes that sparkled with a merriment that still couldn’t quite conceal the pain she hid inside.

A pain she had never explained to me, other than a few passing words about a man she had loved very deeply, but had to leave. She told me about the young son she had left behind as well, a boy no more than two centuries old whom she and her husband–my foster father, I supposed, even though I had never met him–had named after the season of green leaves he had been born into.

Also another interesting-as well as hard--part to write as I described her foster mother's history and gave you guys some tidbits to get you wondering about who she was....

Thinking about my mother finally broke the dam holding back my tears, and I began to sob; shoulders shaking as my head fell into my hands.

It was only one word, but it rocked me to my very core. Not because of what it meant, but because of who said it.

My absolute favourite dialogue--well maybe not absolute, but up there in the top five ;). It really just packs this huge punch of emotion. Because really, if anybody else insulted Estel, she wouldn't really think twice about it. But since it was Thorin... well, that hurt pretty badly.

Back when Naneth had told me about the man she loved, I hadn’t understood her pain. But now I did; on a personal level. I knew there was something special about Thorin the moment I had laid eyes on him, but I hadn’t expected him to treat me with such blatant dislike.

Being raised in Elven culture, I had been taught about their belief in soulmates. The person who you just knew deep down in your soul was the one the first time you laid eyes on them. I didn’t know if Dwarves had such a belief or not, but the feeling I had felt deep inside me when I had first met him… It was as if we were two halves of a whole being drawn nearer to one another in order to complete ourselves.

But he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Miss Estel?”

I quickly wiped at my tears, trying to steady my breathing. Of all the times in the world to approach me, he did it at the one time I didn’t want to be around him.

Heavy footsteps trod closer to me, but I didn’t look up to see who it was. I already knew from his voice.

“Leave me alone.” I growled out, turning my head away from him so he couldn’t see my tears in the bright moonlight reflecting from the river.

Thorin let out a sigh and proceeded to sit next to me, resting his arms on his knees as he looked out across the gorge. "I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I truly didn’t mean to do so, Miss Estel.“ He murmured quietly, and I distantly wondered if he had gone mad. Since when did Thorin Oakenshield apologize to anyone?

This was a bit of a delicate dance here since I was trying to make Thorin still seem aloof and unfeeling towards Estel--because he totally doesn't like her, that would just be crazy, right?--but I also wanted him to teach her Khuzdul.

I continued to hide my face from him, trying to use my midnight locks as a shield, but my attempts to quiet my running nose caught his attention.

"Are you crying?” Thorin asked softly, concern lacing his words. A hand rested itself on my shoulder and I started, whirling to look at him in confusion.

Oh this was funny too, since as a rule, Dwarrows are FIERCELY protective of their Ones and Thorin would be horrified to see that Estel is crying--which explains his uncharacteristic physical touch.

Honestly, his first reaction would be to try and make her feel better, as well as go murder the person responsible for making her cry--himself--but since he's obstinately denying that he is in love with her, he settles for just being concerned.

Thorin watched me with a furrowed brow, retracting his hand from my shoulder. I swallowed hard, turning away to wipe at my eyes. "No, I’m fine. Just leave me alone. I know you don’t want to be doing this.“ I said roughly, but Thorin shook his head, sapphire eyes turning to look at the ground.

"I’m sorry.” He murmured again, and I scoffed.

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Master Thorin. It’s cowardly to insult someone in a language they don’t understand, and ‘sorry’ won’t magically fix it.” I said, and Thorin’s gaze wandered over to my face.

“How do you not know Khuzdul? You are a Dwarrowdame.” He said, voice filled with confusion.

I bit my lip. He was beginning to tread on dangerous grounds, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. One wrong word and I could end up on my own. "Personal reasons.“ I muttered, and Thorin opened his mouth, about to ask another question when I cut him off. "Personal reasons that I won’t be sharing, Master Thorin."

Yet another hard part to write. I really had to watch my wording here since I didn't want Estel to reveal any part of her upbringing to anybody yet, so giving Thorin an answer he wouldn't contest was a little difficult.

He nodded in understanding, his expression gaining a strange hesitance. "Would it help if I taught you Khuzdul?” He questioned, and I pulled my gaze away from the grove of maples I spotted on the other side of the gorge, raising an eyebrow.

“You would teach me?”

“Of course. All Dwarves should know Khuzdul.” He said, and I considered his offer, wondering just what strings were attached to this.

This is a good part. So of course, Thorin doesn't want to seem TOO nice, but I really needed him to be teaching her Khuzdul. So he just throws it out there, torn on whether he wants her to say yes--he would get to spend time with her and maybe find out about her backstory, who knows--but he also doesn't want her to say yes--he would be spending time with her and might mess up/make a fool of himself around her.

Of course, Estel is a bit skeptical about this--I mean, we are talking about the Dwarf who seems to want nothing more than to have her gone from this quest--but she goes along with it. (If I'm being honest, she probably would like to spend more time with Thorin too... ;))

There had to be something.

“And I wouldn’t be a burden?” I asked skeptically, and Thorin was quick to shake his head, dark brown hair falling onto his chest.

“No, you wouldn’t be more of a burden then you already are.” He said gruffly, and the faint feeling of warmth blossoming within me was snuffed out, only to be replaced with the familiar resentment of the Dwarrow sitting beside me.

My absolute favourite dialogue scene in this chapter beside the previous one I mentioned above. I just adore this part because it circles back around in Anrâd... Buzrâ when Estel brings this back up.

Backstory on Thorin's dialogue... To the person who isn't in Thorin's mind in this moment--everyone except me, haha!--this sounds like a really harsh comment that just reflects Thorin's feelings on Estel. Or maybe they recognize that he's just trying to maintain his gruff image. Either way, the true meaning behind his words is not revealed until Anrâd... Buzrâ.

That's when Thorin tells Estel that those words carried no weight for her since she was, and I quote: “You’ve never been a burden to me, Estel. Only the greatest gift Mahal could ever give.”

Now isn't that sweet?

“I accept your offer then. Thank you, Master Thorin.” I said sincerely, “but I have one question.”

“What?”

“What does 'amralimí’ mean?” I asked, and Thorin looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before he began to chuckle.

Note the purposeful misspelling of Amrâlimê here. I wanted to ensure that Estel didn't know the exact way to pronounce it since she might ask someone else to explain it for her. It also sounds more believable since she doesn't know the language, and therefore would be mispronouncing words quite easily.

“I’m afraid that I cannot tell you that just yet, Miss Estel. You will just have to be patient.” He said, standing up and rolling his shoulders. "Zann galikh. That means 'good night’.“ He said, striding away from me, back towards the paths of Rivendell.

Thorin's denial here is pretty characteristic of him. There might have been some internal panicking--we'll find out in the chapter of Matters of the Heart that covers this from Thorin's POV--and he's trying to figure out how to cover up his 'slip of the tongue'.

~~~~~

The next morning found me reluctantly packing my things so we could leave as soon as possible. I had hoped we could linger in Rivendell for awhile, but Thorin wanted to be off as soon as we could.

Here I really wanted to talk more about Estel's experience in Imladris, but I just kinda ended up skimming the entire thing, so hopefully I'll get around to writing a Bonus Chapter that covers it!

It would be an understatement to say that he disliked Elves. He hated them with every fibre of his being. But all this haste didn’t stop him from beginning to teach me Khuzdul.

"I am your ugshar; your teacher or one who is very learned in certain subjects.” Thorin said while I rolled up my bedroll. "Repeat the word.“

Rolling my eyes, I stared up at him. "Ugshar. Happy?” I asked and he nodded gravely.

“That is a good start.” He rumbled and then walked away from me, towards Dwalin who was leaning up against a wall inspecting one of his axes. "We’ll continue this later.“

As soon as he had turned his back to me, I threw up my hands in a gesture of defeat. I was never going to learn anything at this rate.

Estel is already frustrated with Thorin, isn't that funny? But anyways, Thorin is kinda nervous talking with Estel and he is looking for a way out of this situation and finds it in the form of Dwalin.

My guess in this moment is that Dwalin ribs him about Estel; says/does whatever guy friends say/do to their friends after they see them talking with their crush, idk.

"Hey, Estel.” A voice whispered and I turned to see Kili and Fili motioning for me to come towards where they stood, partially hidden by a pillar. "Come here.“

Letting out a quiet groan, I walked towards them as nonchalantly as I could and joined them beside the pillar. Crossing my arms, I gave them a no-nonsense look. "What do you want?” I asked, getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach at the sight of Kili’s cheeky grin.

“Rumor has it that Thorin offered to teach you Khuzdul.” Kili whispered conspiratorially and I nodded.

Nosy buggers getting involved with their Uncle's 'secret' crush already... I love these two.

“He did and it’s none of your business so bug off.” I said, making Kili snicker.

“I’m curious, why don’t you know Khuzdul. You are a Dwarf right? Or are you just a really short human woman, or–Mahal forbid--an Elf? Thorin might have a heart attack.” He said, and even though his words were in jest, I felt a small shiver of fear travel down my spine.

I really love the Easter egg I planted here; it's yet another beautiful piece of this chapter. I plant a little seed of suspicion here as Kili says '...Mahal forbid--an Elf?"

Thorin doesn't like Elves, I state that many, many times and Estel knows that very well. It also ties in with Estel's mental description of her foster mother.

Again, note that I never specifically stated that her foster mother was an Elf. But right here, I actually reveal that her foster mother is indeed an Elf, because of Estel's reaction to Kili's words. If she had been raised by a human woman in Lothlorien, she wouldn't worry so much about Thorin's reaction to her upbringing.

But she is concerned, and that just reaffirms the belief that she was raised by Elves. It's also just a funny line of dialogue from Kili as he is his usual dramatic self.

“It’s none of your business.” I repeated, but Kili didn’t want to let the subject go.

“What has Uncle dearest taught you so far?” He asked, and I shrugged.

“The word for teacher and that’s it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do before we head out or Thorin’s going to kill me.” I said, turning away and beginning to walk away from the two annoying brothers.

But Fili and Kili reached out and grabbed my arms, pulling me back. "I doubt he’d kill you, Estel… I can guarantee you that thought has never once entered his mind.“ Fili laughed, and I gave him an incredulous look.

Fili slips up a bit here and reveals that Thorin cares for Estel. Not that my oblivious little Dame realizes that...

"Are you daft? Wait, don’t answer that. I already know the answer.” I said, making Fili frown at my teasing. "Have you seen how he treats me? The way he looks at me? And you think he hasn’t ever once thought that I’m an annoying burden?“ I asked, and Kili and Fili gave me astonished looks as though I had just said some sort of blasphemy.

Kili began stuttering unintelligibly, his brown eyes wide with shock. Fili was a bit more eloquent and started to say something, but a sudden deep voice behind me cut him off.

Here Estel blows Fili and Kili's minds as she talks about Thorin in such a way. They thought that it was obvious to her that Thorin liked her and all that--again, noting that they all believe she is a Dwarrowdame raised by Dwarves. So now they are wondering why Estel doesn't like Thorin and are going to try and change the tide.

"Fili, Kili, what are you doing? Have you gotten everything packed up?” Thorin boomed, and I whirled around to see him walking towards us, his steel blue eyes smoldering.

The brothers muttered something about being almost done and quickly darted off, leaving me and Thorin alone.

“Were those two Lalkîths bothering you?” He asked, stopping in front of me, and I cocked my head, not understanding his word of choice. "Young idiots.“ Thorin clarified after taking in my puzzled expression, and I nodded in understanding.

"A bit. They dragged me over here to ask if it was true that you offered to teach me Khuzdul.” I said, and Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Did they tell you anything?” He asked, and I shook my head, wondering why this was so important. "Good.“

Is it or is it not apparent that Thorin is deathly afraid of his sister-sons revealing his feelings about Estel to her? I mean, by this point, literally everyone in the Company--except for Estel--knows that Thorin is head-over-heels for Estel.

I opened my mouth to ask him why, but he had already turned away from me and was striding away, barking orders at everyone else.

I watched him go, Fili’s words echoing in my mind. ”...I can guarantee you that thought has never entered his mind.“

There was a meaning to his words, I knew it, but I couldn’t figure out just what it was. Perhaps it would be the key to understanding Thorin; the Dwarrow that seemed to change the moment you thought you had him figured out.

Estel is a bit confused over Fili's words and how they relate to Thorin, since she really doesn't even consider the idea that *gasp* Thorin might actually like her back.

#director's cut #thorin x estel #adm #a deep misunderstanding #chapter 3 #iktibith E #the hobbit #fanfic #fanfiction #thorin #thorin x oc #fili #kili #the company #imladris #rivendell

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samwrights · 4 years

Note

Hi and hello I love your work! Can I request a hc with Kuroo, Amatsu and Daichi with s/o with spanking/edging? 🙊🖤

Thank you so much bb! Let’s give Dadchi more love! And I’m assuming that’s supposed to be Atsumu 😅 (hopefully otherwise we’re gonna have another Polka Dot Bikini issue). I’m also gonna say this now—all three of these boys love edging.

Warnings: obvi edging and spanking, teasing, torture(?), rough sex, daddy kink, orgasm denial, uh, BDSM (?), bondage WOW I AM SORRY. PLEASE GO TO CHURCH AND REPENT FOR THIS SIN AFTER QUARANTINE (just kidding, I’m a satanist).

Kuroo;

I think it goes with saying that Kuroo is a natural tease.

And, (un)fortunately for you, that includes edging on the regular.

He doesn’t even have to try—he just knows that he wants to fuck you for as long as possible and in order to do that, he’s gotta pull out and take a breather.

Which is how he discovered this little fanscination you have with spanking.

It’s a routine for Kuroo now to plow you into the bed, holding onto the headboard so he can fuck you at just the right angle

Then pull out with warning.

He’ll catch his breath for a moment, panting heavily while you’re whining and crying for him to put his dick back in.

“Nah,” is all he says before his hand smacks your ass so hard your head bumps into the headboard.

He really is sorry for that.

But he knows you like a little pain anyway, and does it again.

After two good blows, one to each ass cheek of course, he plunges his cock straight back into soaked cunt, resuming the savage thrusts from just moments ago.

Even if he doesn’t feel like he’s about to cum yet, Kuroo can feel the way you’re squeezing around him like your cunts fucking starved for cum.

Lmao he ain’t having that.

“Didn’t say you could come yet, babe,” as soon as the pet name leaves his lips, he’s removed his cock from you entirely.

“Tetsu, please.”

“I said no.” And so the vicious cycle of Kuroo leaving white hot stings on your ass from his hand before reinserting his cock begins.

Sometimes, when he really wants to push your buttons, he’ll pull out one last time before cumming on your back—just leaving you there hanging as your 700th denied orgasm starts to leave you.

“You’re fucking kidding me right now.” You snarl as he gets up to clean himself off. “Get the fuck back here and fuck me!”

“Or you can torture me next.”

Atsumu;

This is just a regular old Friday night for Atsumu.

It shouldn’t be—to have you over his lap with your bare ass out and a ping pong paddle in his hand.

But it was.

Already, after only mere minutes of teasing, you were a dripping, soaking mess after the rapid succession of strikes he delivered to one ass cheek at a time before shoving three fingers in your core.

Yep, just a regular Friday night.

He didn’t care that he was literally so fucking hard he thought he was going to explode.

He didn’t care that you were sobbing and weeping for him to stop—he knew you were still green, maybe yellow, but not likely.

Atsumu loves torturing you.

Surely, you were going to have a huge bruise on your ass after he was done with you.

“Please, ‘tsumu, let me taste you at least.” He hums in consideration before pulling his fingers out, and smacking your ass five more times at the same pace from earlier.

“Nah, I want you to cum first.”

“So then fuck me, dammit!”

Setting the paddle down on the floor beside him, he dips his fingers into your core once again, relentlessly thrusting them in at the same quick pace.

On every outstroke, he makes it a point to stretch his fingers out just a little bit, the motion causing you writhe and pulse and squeeze him tighter.

When you expect him to thrust his fingers back in, he shoves them into your mouth instead. “You wanna cum, babygirl? Wanna cum on my cock?”

“Please, daddy!” Welp there go his inhibitions.

And his pants.

Without skipping a beat, he throws your hips down, shoving his cock deep inside you with even a warning.

Atsumu can feel the way your velvet walls are squeezing him, trying to force him out because you’re right fucking there.

Oh hell no.

After the first initial thrust, he pulls your hips higher and higher until you’re sliding off of him.

“I didn’t say you could cum yet, I only asked if you wanted to.”

Daichi;

Daichi only indulges in this particular kink when he’s pissed off or jealous.

Doesn’t happen very often.

But when you’re in that mood, you make it happen.

If you two are out to dinner, you flirt with the waiter, the busboy, bartender, host—whoever tf you can get your hands on.

Before the two of you leave, you slip your “number” to them. It’s actually Daichi’s.

The second the two of you are behind closed doors, he has you stripped and hogtied in your bed with his necktie now stuffed in your mouth.

“You like teasing me like that? Should I return the favor?” He’s got your face down in the mattress with the heel of his hand digging in at the back of your head while your bare ass to presented to him. “Answer me, babygirl.”

You literally fucking can’t—and he knows that—with his tie in your mouth and him holding you down but you do your best to mumble out an affirmative.

“We’re doing ten. Count for me, princess.” Ten? Seems kinda weak but okay.

At one, he delivers a blow to your left cheek. It stings, but it’s not nearly as bad as you know he can do. The second is the same on the right.

The third is slightly harder, and the skin of your left asscheek burns red. The fourth is mirrored on the opposite side.

By the fifth spank, his hand holding down your head has moved to run along your dampening, bare slit before he smacks you like he’s trying to serve.

The seventh is what has you keening. His fingers teasing your slit have moved draw lazy circles in your clit, making your muscles clench in anticipation as he delivers the same force he’d use to spike. The eighth hit leaves a small mark that’s starting to turn white on your right side.

The ninth, Daichi has one finger leisurely stroking your warmth while his right hand delivers the final spank to your left cheek. It’s hard enough that it leaves a tingling sensation.

The languid pace of his finger quickens rapidly before he’s fully thrusting two fingers into your soaked cunt, amping up the sensation of the final blow.

“Gonna cum, princess?” You’re nodding wildly, moaning into the tie stuffed in your mouth while bucking your hips towards his wrist. “That’s too bad, you’re aren’t allowed to.” Is all he says before ripping his hand away.

You’re crying, tears and saliva soaking the silk tie because what the fuck you were so close—

“Maybe you can call the waiter and he can get you off instead.”

Through muffled cries, you’re begging him to finish you off while the edge of your denied orgasm slowly ebbs away. “Beg for it, baby.”

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an-intronerd · 4 years

Text

thoughts on jaskier (+ geraskier) post episode 6: rare species

this was honestly supposed to be a teeny little rant but like, my hands grew minds of their own.

...

ok, so like, i recently binged the witcher (and i’m one of those people who has not yet read the books and never played the games, so going in, i had no idea who these characters were or what their dynamics in the other medias were like or anything) and next thing you know, i’m drowining in the geraskier fandom.

as one does, i’ve seen a lot of geraskier content, including fics and the like, and one idea that’s always there is that jaskier is this heartbroken, sullen, pining thing after the Big Fight. like, 98% of what i’ve seen or read has sad!jaskier. and like, the general plot is always like

jaskier is sad that geralt yelled mean things at him.

jaskier sings heartbroken love songs.

jaskier runs into geralt/geralt finds jaskier/somehow these two meet again.

geralt is a dick/geralt feels bad but is emotionally constipated so he doesn’t know how to use words to apologize/geralt saves jaskier’s life.

geralt and jaskier make up because jaskier knows how to read his witcher’s emotions and forgives him. optional: they bang.

the end.

and its like, people aren’t perfect?? i think that’s a little unrealistic. and yes, fanfiction can be like that sometimes, because it’s what we want to happen. but like, imagine this:

jaskier going through the 5 stages.

jaskier goes down the mountain, leaving geralt behind. what else can he possibly do?

jaskier spends a few nights wasted and crying because hey, guess what, the love of his life for the better part of two decades is a gaint wart-covered dick. he’s sad about it, sue him.

jaskier decides fuck this, his witcher is a piece of shit and though he is by no means the best person on the planet, he is at least good enough to deserve better than what geralt gave him. or well, was incapable of giving him.

jaskier decides he will move on, and it’ll start with him getting out of this mountainside village and heading to one of the first places where he truly found himself, oxenfurt. afterall, music has been and will always be the one constant and greatest pleasure in his life.

it takes time, but jaskier perseveres. he gets over his denial pretty quickly. he will not believe geralt didn’t care for him at all. he knows that’s an insult to both of them. geralt cared in his own way. thats the truth. unfortunately, the other, much harsher truth is that it wasn’t enough. so, no geralt won’t be coming for him, and jaskier won't be waiting around.

anger is a bit harder to get over. once it truly sets in, it’s all jaskier can do not to hunt down that fucking white wolf and tear him a new one. jaskier is a person, he is a human with feelings, and that damned witcher had no right to treat him like the scum at the bottom of his shoe. if it wasn’t for jasker, geralt would still be run out of every other town he came across, stoned and bloody. he’d probably have died in a puddle of his own blood fifty times over by now, considering all the times jaskier had to patch him up. that ungrateful prick. except, once he’s exhausted three supllies of parchment and written enough songs about the bitcher, (yes not his most creative insult but he’s too petty to care!) he knows none of that is remotely true. and he wants closure.

and that’s when bargaining hits him full force. all of a sudden, he just needs to see geralt one more time. once more great adventure and a song to go with it, one more meal shared, one more conversation, to see if geralt really ever cared. he needs to ask him, and have geralt verbally confirm or deny his doubts. he needs this, just once. one more time, he needs to see his witcher, and it’ll be enough. one more time. just once. he almost fails himself, on one lonely night. he knows he can’t, he doesn’t even know where he’d start looking but he’s drunk beyond the point where common sense dictates his actions, and he’s packed half his belongings... and he’s getting ready... to track down the white... wolf... he wakes up with a bitch of a hangover the next day, but he didn’t go after geralt. he knows deep down once will never be enough.

anger was tough, but depression was worse. it came for him like a siren in all her glory, drawing him in and in and in until he’s drowing and he didn’t even realise when that happened and then it’s too much, it’s too painful... he isn’t really surprised. he thrives on emotion, the good and the bad, it’s how he writes such brilliant ballads, he admits he hadn’t really delved into his own feelings about geralt yet. he hadn’t dealt with all the heartbreak follwing the mountain, and maybe he should have done so earlier, but he doesn’t think it matters. his heart wasn’t going to hurt any less months earlier when the wounds were still fresh. and though they may have closed up over time, the phantom pain is always with him. there are days where all he can do is curl up under his blankets and sob. some days he goes without eating a single morsel, finds himself lightheaded from dehydration, not leaving his bed for anything more than to relieve himself. some days, he flips through old songbooks, filled with twenty-odd years of adventure, both the fun and the dangerous kind, and laughter and frustration, companionship and solidarity... what was it he used to say? death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. words of a lifetime past. some days, he compartmentalizes and sets all that aside in a little box in his mind and goes about his day as if he isn’t weighed down by the constant weight of his loss. it’s almost too much, but he’ll manage, he tells himself. he doesn’t let himself think of what he would do if he can’t.

it’s a cloudless day outside, and he’s in the market for new writing materials, and he’s going over next week’s lesson plan in his head, when he’s hit with the sudden realization that he hasn’t thought about geralt in a while. he’s thinking of him now, sure, but that doesn’t count because he’s thinking of how he’s not thinking of him, it’s a totally different thing, and oh- it doesn’t ache as much as it used to. he feels lighter than he has in a while, and he doesn’t know how that happened, or when, but he’s... okay.

that’s the thing about healing, it happens whether you realise it or not, you just have to give ypurself a chance. it’s pontless to hold on to the negative feelings because you’re trying to hold on to something or someone that isn’t there anymore or maybe never really was. he didn’t know when it happened, but. the bitterness that accompanied the memories of geralt’s last words is no longer there. neither is the anger. there’s a dull sadness, but mostly it’s resignation and a sort of comfortable if lonely acceptance that geralt is gone. but there’s also a bittersweet understanding that jaskier will always love him. the history they shared isn’t erased because of a few angry words. jaskier will have, if nothing else, a lifetime full of moments and memories. if he sees geralt again, it will no longer be with a vision clouded in pain or anger or sadness, but rather a deep-seated love and forgiveness. he will let geralt decide now what they will be to each other. but he will not accept anything less than what he is worth. he will not be geralt’s punching bag. if geralt wants to have a relationship with him again, it will be one of equals, the bard and the witcher. if he wants to go their seperate ways, well, jaskier will live content like that too.

he’s moved on.

sometimes, moving on doesn’t mean finding someone else. sometimes, it means mending your own heart, piece by broken piece, and then tucking it away safely inside, giving it a chance to heal. it’s about making that very difficult choice to let go of the bad that you’re holding on to, because it’s a way of holding on to the person you lost. it’s about finding yourself again, and who you were before the pain and heartbreak, and, figuring out who you want to be now. i need more of that, because that’s real. that’s how i imigine jaskier would feel. he’s not perfect, and he has his ups and downs as all of us do, and he is angry at geralt and sad and broken but also he’ll pick himself up, because he was someone before geralt, too, and he’ll still be someone after geralt, not just the witcher’s bard. he doesn’t know who that is yet, but he’ll figure it out.

and because i’m at my core a geraskier + happy endings hoe:

geralt realises an important thing on that mountaintop. he has been running from destiny and anything real all his life. he needs to get his head out of his ass, and find ciri. clearly, he was destined to lose yen, and that’s happened, no matter how hard he tried to make it different. she’s destined to be his and he accepts that now, but everything else is up to him.

he finds ciri, and then, he’s a father. he vows to be a better parent than the one he had.

he finds yen, and they learn to be enough for each other without turning it into something more than a vague frienship. somewhere between a truce and a partnership. for ciri, they agree.

he returns to kaer morhen, to his family with his daughter and his yennefer in tow.

he realises that he has everything he could ever want, and more than any witcher ever gets, but there’s still something missing.

then he realises it’s his bard, the one person who wasn’t unwillingly tied to him because of some wish or destiny, someone who chose him every single time, and who he misses with such a fierce ache.

then he remebers how badly he fucked that up, and then yen tells him he’s a wart-covered, emotionally constipated dick, and dumb too, but hey thank god you finally got your head out of your ass long enough to realise that you miss your bard and you’re sorry for what you did and you love him, and geralt just goes what? yen, love? oh- okay so that’s what the constant turning of his stomach and insomnia is.

then he sets out to find his bard, and ciri asks if she’ll finally get to hear all those famous songs about geralt from the source, and he says he hopes so.

it doesn’t take him long to find his bard, now a professor at oxenfurt academy, and geralt thinks that makes perfect sense because where else would jaskier have gone but to one of the few bright bits of his youth?

he gets to oxenfurt and it’s a cloudless day, and there’s people millig about and he thinks he’ll head to an inn and give roach a well-deserved rest, and then his heart stops. because there is jaskier, exchanging coin for parchment, and he looks just as he did a year and a half ago, except less disappointed and more happy and his heart hasn’t beaten this fast since he was a child left on vesemir’s doorstep. he thinks of all the nights he’s been unable to sleep because he had gotten so used to the bard’s humming and how it had been the most soothing wordless lullaby. he thinks of his last words, and he feels his breath leave him, because jaskier had taken it to heart, and left him. he’d given geralt his one blessing, and geralt thinks that those words are something he will regret for as long as he is living. he gives himself a moment to wonder if perhaps he should leave jaskier to the life he’s created for himself, be unselfish for once and let jaskier remain happy and safe and free.

he should leave, though he knows that jaskier deserves so much more from him, an apology to start, and then a real friendsip, one tat goes both ways, and wow, geralt really is a wart-covered dick because he had treated jaskier so unfairly and he doesn’t undertsand why jaskier kept coming back to him, again and again. destiny hadn’t entwined their paths. jaskier chose to entangle them anyways. and he deserves so much more than geralt of rivia, and he should let jaskier have that, he should...

but he couldn’t walk away now, not when jaskier, his bard, his life-long friend, is standing right there, and jaskier turns, collecting his items and geralt stops breathing because jaskier looks over, and geralt watched the recognition flit over the bard’s face as he sees roach and then up, up, up, his eyes trace geralt’s form until.

their eyes meet, and jaskier smiles.

tl;dr: i just want more realistic portrayls of jaskier’s emotions after the Big Fight in episode 6, and i want to see jaskier go through all the feelings, and more depth to him that just some pining, heartbroken lump of a person. he’s more nuanced than that, i think.

p.s: a big part of this ended up being based on my own experineces with love and friendship, pain and hertbreak, and the process of moving forward despite it all. idk how much of that comes through, and i hadn’t really planned for this post to go in the direction that it did, but i like how it turned out. i’m still trying to figure out that tricky little thing about making the choice to let go, and writing this helped?

p.p.s: this ended up way, way, wayyyyy longer than i intended, oops? why do i do this lol

p.p.p.s: if fics like this actually exist, please feel free to tag me in them or send me links, i would adore you forever!

#jaskier #geralt #geraskier #oh also #personal #lol why am i like this #the witcher #works and writings and other such musings

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seokoloqy · 5 years

Text

good kitty | kth (m)

➳ PAIRING: hunter!taehyung x witch!reader ft. devil!hoseok

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, ‘no rest for the wicked’ drabble

➳ WORD COUNT: 2k

➳ WARNINGS: LOTS-O-CURSING, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, little bit of spanking, hair pulling, name-calling, orgasm denial, barely any hobi :(( sorry fellow hopeworldians this is a fumble on my part

➳ SUMMARY: you owned taehyung and the red collar around his neck proved it, but in bed, he’s the master and you’re just his obedient little slut.

➳ A/N: I feel like Tae is a little too rough but it could just be me so I dialed it down a bit haha but pls let me know what you think!!! + thanks @strawbxxymilk for giving me inspo to write this hehe this is unedited :(( sorry

—

“Kitty, come here” you coo, gaze flickering to the black cat slinking into a corner, shielding itself from your eyes. The red collar fastened around its throat gleams as light reflects his tag with your name claiming him. It’s golden eyes turn to slits as it watches you with contempt for cursing him. But it wasn’t your fault he had tried to kill you—twice.

Your newest pet, a human turned obedient, docile house cat, used to be a witch hunter. Not a very good one, you assume, since you managed to turn him into one of your pets. Him and his friends needed to be taught a lesson about what happens to those who dare to try and kill you.

“Come here before I tighten that collar around your neck and force the air out of your lungs,” you hiss when the feline doesn’t budge. He watches you with the same vengeful eyes, refusing to lift a paw. “Hoseok, the cat is being stubborn.”

“Kill it.” The sudden appearance of your devilish companion startles the cat causing it to jump up and scurry away, disappearing into the dark hall.

Hoseok looks the same as the day you trapped him under your spell and made him yours. The mark you burned into his vessel’s flesh nearly a year ago remains intact.

You roll your eyes, snapping your fingers, listening as bones begin snapping and skin begins to stretch in the other room. The painful sound of a cats meow turns into the deep roar of a man.

“But I like this one, Hobi.”

Hoseok grimaces at your nickname, disappearing once again without replying. You’re not sure where he goes, but it doesn’t matter much. You know he’ll never find a way to release himself from your spell.

It’s amusing that he still tries.

You leave the kitchen to roam the hall, searching for your pet. Approaching the end where your bedroom is, you can hear the sound of items crashing to the ground, glass being shattered in a fit of rage.

“Kitty, you’re being a bad boy.” You push open the door, snapping your fingers to turn the lights on.

As light floods the destroyed room, only one person stands amongst all the shattered mirror and scattered miscellaneous items that used to rest on your vanity. Breathing heavily, your pet’s bare chest rises and falls as he stares at you with the same golden eyes.

You bite your lip, running your eyes down his toned body, absolutely bare.

“I’m not your kitty. My name is Taehyung.”

You chuckle, “but you are mine. That pretty little collar around your neck proves it.”

His hands moves to the red collar to unbuckle the straps. They don’t move no matter how hard he pulls and he lets out a frustrated groan.

“Good luck removing it, kitty, you’re bound to me.”

Taehyung, like the good hunter he is, reaches down to scoop up a big shard of broken glass and charges toward you. He grabs you roughly by the arm and forces the glass to your neck.

“Remove it,” he hisses,

“You think I’ll surrender that easily? I wouldn’t even make a deal with the devil and I definitely won’t with a fucking hunter,” you sneer, “so go ahead and kill me if you think that will free you.”

You don’t even flinch under his hardened gaze.

He slowly pulls the glass away from your neck, dropping it to the ground because it has no use to him anymore.

You’ve won.

—

“Mhm, Hoseok,” you mewl, grinding on his thick cock. You’ve been going slowly tonight, lazily riding him, distracted by the thought of your new kitten.

Taehyung. What a foolish hunter.

“It looks like someone wants to join,” Hoseok grunts, holding onto your hips to force you up and slam you back down when he decides you’re moving too slowly.

The way his cock hits your sweet spot has you moaning, forgetting the words Hoseok just said. It’s just pleasure that you feel as he rocks his hips into you.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk,” Hoseok says to your intruder.

You look over your shoulder to find Taehyung, gold tag glinting in the low light, cock half hard and jaw hung open. He licks his lips, trying to tear his gaze away, but he can’t. The enticing roll of your hips and your sultry gaze lure him beyond the threshold.

The devil and one of the most powerful witches. The hunter in him must be dying for a chance to kill you both while you’re so close.

“Oh, kitty,” you purr, biting down on your lip. “Do you want to watch? I’ll put on a good show for you, baby.”

“I want to do more than watch,” Taehyung's gruff voice takes you by surprise.

Hoseok chuckles, hand climbing from your waist to your breast, fondling and rolling his thumb over a hardened bud. You hum, running your hand through Hoseok’s soft dark hair, pretending to think about letting Taehyung join. You don’t need to think. You want him to join.

“Do you mind sharing me, Hobi?” You question sweetly, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his neck.

“I’m so used to having you all to myself. I don’t know if I like someone else pleasing you,” he teases, eyes wandering over your shoulder to Taehyung. “But I feel whatever you feel so it would be like he’s pleasing the both of us.”

Hoseok eases you off him and you mewl as each inch leaves your dripping core.

“I’ll be back, you two have fun,” he winks.

“What?” Before Hoseok answers your question he disappears and you’re left alone with a feral hunter. You don’t know what he meant by ‘I’ll be back’. What was he going to do?

You turn around to find Taehyung already at the edge of the bed.

“Lay down,” he hisses, fingers clawing into the skin on your thighs. The burn feels too good and you grin. Your hot skin relishes the relief provided by the cool sheets as you comply to his orders.

“That’s no way to speak to your master, kitty,” you purr, fingers rising to the red collar around his throat to flick the shining golden tag with your name on it, claiming him. As the tag sways back and forth it glimmers underneath the light.

Tarhyung’s features turn into a snarl, he sneers, “master? When you’re beneath me and screaming around my cock I’m the master. Got it, bitch?”

You bite your lip to hide a growing smirk.

At the end of the day, he knows his role, who really owns who. The master and her pretty, obedient little bitch. Taehyung is yours.

“Yes, master,” you say sweetly, hints of sarcasm bleeding through your innocent facade. “I’m just your slut.”

Taehyung grunts, satisfied with your response. “That’s a good girl.”

He spreads your legs to get a look at your swollen cunt, licking his lips at the sight of arousal leaking out. One finger runs across your slit, coating the tip in wetness before plunging into your walls suddenly.

Taehyung fingers your greedy cunt, watching in fascination as it clenches around his single digit. “Look at your pretty pussy sucking in my finger.”

Obscene noises fill the room as your moans mixed with the wetness of Taehyung’s finger continuously fucking you.

“You want me to fill you up with my cock?” Taehyung adds a second finger, scissoring your walls. Your fingers dig into the sheets as your back arches, a breath escapes you while his fingers move at an inhuman pace. “I’m gonna fuck this tight cunt and turn you into my obedient bitch.”

“Mhm, y-yes, fuck me good,” you moan, allowing your eyes to fall shut. His fingers keep up the brutal pace. Your eyes flutter, feeling each digit around your velvet walls. “I want your cock.”

“Beg me for it, slut,” Taehyung growls, bringing his unoccupied hand to the roots of your hair and yanking your head up to his snarling lips. “I wanna hear you cry.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, scalp burning as his fingers lace tighter, wetness beginning to pool in your eyes. “P-please, I need it.”

Taehyung tsks removing his fingers from your cunt to deliver a sharp blow onto it instead. The strike lands on your clit causing you to jolt forward and hiss.

“You call that begging, you stupid bitch?”

He throws your head back, grabbing your hips and flipping your over. He pulls your ass up, putting it on display for his predatory eyes. Your back is arched and face pressed against the sheets. You can feel your wetness dripping down your thighs

“I’ll teach you how to beg properly.”

His first strike comes down hard and you let out a surprised yelp.

“Count them,” he barks.

“O-One,” you whine.

He delivers five more punishing blows to your ass. More tears form in your eyes with each count.

“Seven,” you groan.

“Did you learn your lesson yet?”

“Yes,” you sob, fingers curling tighter around the bedsheets. “P-Please, master, I-I want your cock so badly. I need you—fuck—I need you now.”

You hear the sound of Taehyung’s pants unbuckling, relief flooding your aching body. When he presses the tip of his weeping cock to your entrance you can already tell he’s thick, thicker than Hoseok. The anticipated stretch already makes you sting.

“I’m gonna fuck you now and you’re not gonna cum until I say you can, got that?”

You’re too lost in the pressure of his cock pressing against your lips, you don’t answer, not until his hand knots in your hair and pulls your head up. You cry out from the burn on your scalp.

“I ask you a question, slut. Did you fucking understand it?”

“Yes! I won’t cum until you say so!”

“Good,” is all he says before releasing your hair and ramming his girth into your tight cunt.

“Ah, fuck!” You sob.

Taehyung doesn’t even give you the chance to adjust, thrusting in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You can feel yourself being stretch more than you ever have with Hoseok. You hold onto the bed, afraid you’ll fall off the faster and deeper he goes.

Already, you can feel yourself wanting to come. You desperately need to with each thrust.

“I-I want to cum! Please, m-master, I need to!”

“Did I…did I say you could?” He pants, gripping your hips to take control of you.

“N-no,” you cry, face twisting against your pillow as you rub your tears away.

“Didn’t fucking think so.”

You endure all that he gives you, panting and screaming around him. Your walls clench, you can feel your abdomen tightening, coiling.

“Poor slut wants to cum, doesn’t she?” He taunts, hand coming down to your clit. You cry out, overly sensitive and this just pushes you closer to the edge. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, p-please,” you hiccup, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

You can tell Taehyung is almost there too, the way his thrusts become sloppy, the grip on your hips tighten until his nails claw into your skin, and his breathy pants become louder.

“Then cum,” is all he says and you do. You release all over his cock, finally relieved and trembling. Toes curl and for the first time you scream his name.

The feeling of your walls clenching sporadically around him makes him cum quickly after you. He curses, stilling his hips and letting you milk his cock.

He pulls out of you, a mixture of both your cum leaking out of your wrecked hole. He looks on in amusement at your ruined state, chest heaving and hair mused from all the pulling.

You’re barely able to move your body, too sore and fucked out to begin a proper sentence. Taehyung may begin to like it here after all.

You collapse onto the bed, every part of you aches, traces of his touch burned into your skin.

“Looks like you two finished before I could get back.” You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Hoseok. “I hope you’re up for round two.”

#bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #btssmutclub #smutcentralnet #thekimlinenet #bangtanarmynet #taehyung fanfiction #bts fanfiction

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Anger

Request: Hey can u write a Jensen x actress!reader (married to j) shot where the reader makes him angry and then hot Dom/ angry!Jensen

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: angst (sorry, couldn’t help myself), arguments, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), female masturbation, voyeurism, Dom!Jensen, Sub!Reader, bratty reader, smut, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fluff

“I told you to not talk back in front of my best friend!” Jensen curses watching you sitting on the couch, smirking. You were a brat the whole day. Teasing Jensen with a too naughty outfit. Talking back, making fun of his bad luck at poker.

Jensen took you with him as good luck charm, or rather his arm candy. You decided to have a little payback for your husband using you as a distraction during his poker game.

The whole night you were busy teasing him, rubbing your breasts over his back as you whispered dirty nothings into his ear. In the end, Jensen was too distracted to play poker and dragged you out of the room.

Here you are now, waiting for your punishment, licking your lips. You love riling Jensen up to bring his dominant side out. He barely is rough or demanding but when he is your dom, he is a wild beast.

“I got no clue what you are talking about.” You coo, pouring oil into the fire. Grinning widely, you watch Jensen raising an eyebrow and then his lips curve into a dark grin.

“You know exactly what you did tonight, kitten. I want you naked in five in our room, kneeling. I will have to remind you whom you belong to and how to behave like my good girl again. I was too nice lately, this will change from now on. GO!” Jensen growls and you gasp as wetness ruins your panties.

“Yes, Sir…”

“Good girl, now…”

Running upstairs, you can’t hide the grin all over your face. This will be a hell of a night for sure…

----

Kneeling as Jensen orderer you wait for your husband to enter the bedroom. Half an hour passed, and your knees start hurting. Lower lip trapped between your teeth you debate to go to bed or wait a bit longer.

The door opens not five minutes later, and you angrily glare at Jensen. He has a smug grin on his face as he strides toward you, circling you humming in appreciation. He pats your head, whispering praises before he fists your hair harshly, forcing you to look up at him.

“Get on the bed. Legs spread and touch your pussy but you better not cum before I say so.” Jensen orders and you shiver at his dominant voice. Heat is creeping into your cheeks at the thought of Jensen watching you getting off. “NOW!”

“Yes, Sir.”

----

Slipping one hand between your legs and squeezing your breasts with the other you lock eyes with Jensen.

Lust-blown pupils watch you touching your clit, playing with the little nub before you slip two fingers into you. Wetness coats your digits making Jensen gasp at the sound.

“Harder.” He orders and you pick up the pace. “Add a third finger. Fuck this pretty pussy for me.” Jensen starts stripping his clothes off right in front of your bed, showing you his hard cock but he won’t touch you.

“Jay…please…” Desperate to cum you curl your fingers but it’s not enough. You can’t get off this way and Jensen knows it, but he won’t give you the order to stop.

“Harder, faster and spread your legs wider.” His voice goes straight to your core, just like the way he looks at you, but this only increases your misery.

“Please…I’ll be good next time. Promised.”

“Stop. Crawl over here and take care of the mess you made.” Jensen orders pointing toward his erected cock.

Not hesitating you remove your fingers to crawl toward Jensen, smiling. Maybe you are forgiving after making him feel good?

Your lips barely touched his cock before he grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open. “Open up, now!” He growls.

Jensen doesn’t wait, the moment you open your mouth wide he’s shoving his length down your throat right away.

One hand fists your hair harshly and you know Jensen is angrier than ever before. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not caring you start choking around his length.

“Take your punishment. God, your mouth is so good, kitten. We should make a nice video and show it to our friends. How’d sound? I’ll name it punishment for bad kittens.” Jensen groans as you press your tongue against his cock while trying not to choke again. “Hmm…just like that.”

Jensen lessens the grip in your hair, and you take the opportunity to bob your head. You know how he likes it and you want to show him you can be his good girl after all.

“Good Girl. Now stop. I want to cum in your perfect pussy. Lie on your back, legs spread.”

Slipping out of your mouth he grabs your chin, plants a soft kiss to your lips to taste himself on your soft pillows. “Yes, Sir.” You gasp against his lips. “All for you…”

Jensen watches you following his orders with a soft smile on his lips. He loves seeing you being a good girl for him.

“You’re mine, my good girl.” Jensen rasps moving between your legs. He’s inching his way into you, enjoying the gasps leaving your lips.

----

His movement is not tender. Jensen is rough as he pins your hands down with one of his large hands. Controlling your body, he crashes his hips against yours, causing you to cry out when he hits your g-spot.

Toes curling you look up at Jensen, silently begging him to let you cum. He’s shaking his head, already feeling your walls tighten around him. “Wait.”

“Please, Sir. I need to cum.” Your body ready to give in, mind foggy you start sobbing as Jensen won’t let you reach the peak.

“Hold it.” Thrust. “I want you to cum with me.” Another thrust. “Come now…kitten.” Jensen orders as his movement stutters and he shoots his cum into you, panting into your neck.

When he rolls off you, he tries to kiss your cheek, but you turn away. You didn’t cum…

“Y/N, let me do aftercare…” Jensen whispers but you shake your head. “Leave me be. I’m tired, sore and you didn’t let me cum. I acted like that as you used me as an arm candy. I hate it and you know it, still, you did it once again.”

Your voice cracks as you cover your body with a blanket, not looking at Jensen. Eyes closed you try to hide your disappointment, but Jensen knows you are close to tears. Moving closer to you he slips one hand between your legs, adding pressure to your clit he draws slow circles around your little nub.

“I’m sorry. I thought you can cum in time. I didn’t know I would reach my high too soon, Baby Girl. Please forgive me. I’ll make it up to you.” Your body starts trembling, close to falling over the edge you lean into Jensen’s touch, calling out his name when you feel the coil snap. “Did so well, Y/N. Let me take care of you now…”

----

After a long hot bath Jensen carried you back into the bedroom. He changed the sheets and you snuggled into your pillow right away.

“I will never use you as an arm candy again. I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry for being a brat sometimes…”

“You know I love it…”

“I love you angry…so hot…”

“We’ve got the perfect anger management, I guess…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @satansglow, @atomicfandombomb @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr , @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @shortwinchester, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17

#spn #spn fanfiction #RPF #Supernatural RPF #spn rpf #rpf fanfic #request fill #smut #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles one shots #jensen ackles x you

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

Text

Fic: Beauty in Chains

Summary: Mr and Mrs Gold have some kinky fun in the pawn shop after hours.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Quick, cane, candle, gasp, silver

NB: BDSM – Dom!Gold, Sub!Belle, restraints, nipple clamps, wax play, using toys, orgasm denial.

Rated: E

Beauty in Chains

The clock strikes six, and on the dot, Mr Gold turns his shop sign to closed and draws the blinds. Across the street, the lights in the library begin to go out. The town is winding down for the night, but for Mr and Mrs Gold, the fun is only just beginning.

They’re as regular as clockwork in these little sessions of theirs, and the rest of the town wonders what they get up to behind the pawn shop’s closed doors every third Tuesday of the month. Belle smiles to herself as she locks up the library and crosses the road. They would certainly turn a few heads if anyone knew the truth.

She enters the shop and bolts the door behind her, venturing through the curtain into the back room. As usual, Gold has set everything up, and she looks at the treats in store for her today, casting her eyes over the array of items on the workbench.

Gold smiles at her, wolfish in the candlelight.

“I’m so glad that you could come, my dear,” he coos. “Are you ready for your session?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. You know the rules, dearest. When you enter my domain, you are to do so as nature intended. You will strip naked. Now.”

Belle obeys, removing each piece of clothing slowly and carefully, not making a sexy show of it but nonetheless drawing out the process. It is not out of any reluctance to participate on her part. Quite the opposite in fact – she wants to draw out this glorious moment as long as possible. She has always loved this little game of theirs, and she has been looking forward to their time together all day. There is a smear of glossy fluid on the gusset of her panties as she steps out of them, and she can feel the heat rising between her thighs already.

“Beautiful,” Gold breathes. “Come here. Let me inspect you.”

Belle pads across to him, letting him look his fill at her bareness. He brings up the handle of his cane, running the cold metal over her skin and making her shiver with the touch and the anticipation of more. She can’t help but give a little squeak as he rubs it over her nipples, and he gives a Mephistophelean grin as he nudges it between her legs.

“I see you’ve got rid of your lovely bush since we last did this.” He rubs the cane handle over her hairless mons, shaved just this morning in readiness.

“I will allow it to grow out again if you do not find it pleasing, Master.”

“I haven’t decided yet. Turn round. I want to see your pert little backside.”

She turns around slowly and the cane handle, warmed now from her skin and smearing her juices, rubs over her back and ass.

“Very good. You’re perfect as always.” Gold gets to his feet, setting his cane on the workbench with the rest of their things.

“I want to test your endurance today, my dear,” he says. “How long can you last before I let you come apart for me, I wonder? How long can you stand this exquisite torture before you beg me for your orgasm?” He places his hands lightly on her ass cheeks, massaging them gently and spreading them to show her tight hole. “Bend over, my dear.”

Belle flops forward and grabs her ankles, already quivering in anticipation as she feels warming lube being massaged around her asshole, then finally the tip of Gold’s finger pushing inside. He always prepares her properly, taking her time to make sure she’s relaxed and ready for whatever fun comes next. Once two fingers are sliding easily in and out of her, he begins to push in the plug, fucking her slowly with it, going a little further with each stroke until it’s inside all the way.

Her breath is already coming shakily as Gold orders her to stand up straight. His hands go to her breasts, pinching and massaging her already aching nipples. Belle gasps, shifting her hips and shifting the weight of the plug inside her; she throws her head back against the ripples of pleasure. Gold chuckles.

“Dear me, this isn’t going to last very long at all, is it? But you mustn’t come without my permission, my dear. I would hate to have to punish you.”

Belle shakes her head. “I won’t, Master.”

The smarting pain of the nipple clamps being attached focuses her back in the present, and she keens as Gold gently tugs on the chain between them.

“Colour?”

“Green. It’s a good pain.”

“Good. Now, let’s bring these little paws out of the way. We can’t have you touching yourself where you shouldn’t be touching, dearest. Only I can touch your sweet little pussy.”

“Yes, Master.”

He brings her hands up, pressing a kiss to each palm before he cuffs her, slipping the chain between the handcuffs around the chain between her nipples. Again, he pulls gently, the pain in her nipples shooting pleasure straight down to her core. Belle presses her lips tightly together, determined not to make a sound, as if that will somehow suppress the building pleasure. She’s certain she’s so wet by now that she must be dripping on the floor.

“My beauty in chains,” Gold says softly. “I should make you wear these more often. The silver criss-crossed over your skin is so very becoming. Now… How shall I have you today? Do you have any preference, my dear? You did look lovely bent over before, with your pretty little bottom in the air. I think I might have you from behind, but then, I did that last time.”

Belle remembers their last session, bent over the workbench with her ankles locked in a spreader as Gold’s cock pushed into her asshole gloriously slowly.

“No, I think I want to see your face today. On your back, I think.”

Belle nods, not trusting herself to say anything, and Gold moves the things on the workbench so that he can hand her up onto it and lie her back. She rubs her thighs together, smearing her juices. Gold tuts and gives a sharp tug on the chain between her breasts. Belle gasps, her hands curling into fists

“Don’t be naughty, my dear. If you’re very good, I’ll let you come when you ask. If you’re naughty, well…”

The last time she was naughty, she was naughty on purpose, just to see what he would do. He’d spanked her hard, but she’d enjoyed the sharp slap of his hand on her ass cheeks so much that he probably wouldn’t do it again.

“Are you going to be good?” he asks.

Belle nods. “I’ll be very good, Master. How do you want me?”

He pushes her legs up so that she can rest her heels on the edge of the workbench.

“Spread your legs nice and wide, my dear. I want to see your sweet little pussy open up just for me.”

Belle lets her knees fall apart, and she can see Gold creating more loops of the delicate silver chain. He wraps them loosely around her ankles, securing her to the table but still leaving her some freedom of movement. His intent is clear, though. She needs to stay still.

“Oh, dear me. You’re so wet, dearest. You’re going to make a mess of my table.”

He stokes along her dripping cleft, pinching her clit and making her cry out with the need for more. Gold tuts.

“You’re not being very patient, my dear. I think that maybe a lesson needs to be taught. A lesson in patience.”

He picks up his cane, turning it this way and that, looking at it critically from every angle, then he shakes his head and puts it down again.

“No, not today.” One hand comes back down between her legs, thumb resting on the butt plug and moving it slowly, changing the angle of it inside her and making her arch her back off the table. The chains clink. “I think I have something else in mind.”

He picks up the candle in its holder, the warm wax gathered in the bottom ready for them. Belle can’t help but give a little moan. She had not anticipated how much she would enjoy wax play when they tried it for the first time, but now it’s one of her favourite treats.

Gold trickles a line of wax down her belly, and Belle wriggles, already panting with the sensation.

“Come now, my dear, you must exercise some control.”

Another line runs parallel to the first, and Belle’s toes curl, her hips bucking up off the bench again, desperate for a touch between her legs. Without thinking, she goes to move her hands down to press a finger against her clit and find blessed release, but the chains yank at her nipples and she swears under her breath. Gold tuts.

“So needy, and such language. Do you really want it to be over so quickly, my sweet? All things come to those who wait, you know. All the very best things.”

He pours a third line of wax on to her stomach, and Belle squirms against the chains, clenching her teeth against the urge to scream at him to touch her already.

“Is there something you want, my dear?”

Belle nods.

“Ask for it nicely, then.”

“Will you please touch me, Master?”

“Where, my dear?”

“Please touch my pussy, Master.”

“Of course, dearest.”

He spreads her folds and rubs his thumb lazily over her clit; Belle gives a sob of relief, the chains rattling as her legs shake with the need of his touch. A finger presses inside and begins to push up deep, pumping in and out and nearly hitting her sweet spot. Then a second finger presses in, up past the knuckle, curling in just the right way. His thumb against her clit is quick and relentless now, the pressure in the pit of her stomach building and building. Belle squeezes he eyes tight shut.

“Ask for it nicely, my dear.”

“Please may I come, Master?” Her breath is hitched and ragged, and she can feel the sweat beading on her skin with the effort of not giving in to the wave of pleasure that is about to crest.

“Since you’ve been so good, you may come, my sweet. Come for me now.”

Belle shrieks as she gives in and lets the orgasm come. The rush through her veins leaves her panting and shaking.

“Very good,” he whispers. “Very good indeed. Now…”

He takes a step back and loosens his tie, undoing the top couple of buttons of his shirt. She is not the only one to be affected by their little playtime; his erection is tenting his trousers and as he shucks his jacket and unfastens his belt, trousers dropping to his ankles, Belle can see the damp spot of pre-cum staining his boxers. They soon join his trousers and he strokes his hard cock a couple of times before he lines up and thrusts in deep, all the way to the hilt in one smooth push.

Belle gives an unashamed moan, lifting her hips up to meet him as he sets up a quick, powerful pace. For all his talk of patience, he has none of his own when it comes down to it.

“Oh, Belle!” He comes hard with a shout, and for a moment, all is still and quiet as he comes down from the high, his hair hanging in front of his face as he gets his breath back. Belle can feel his seed begin to drip out of her as he pulls out, and she watches him as he sets his clothing to rights.

Her hips tremble as he slowly pulls the plug out of her ass, but she doesn’t make a sound, and Gold nods his approval.

“Did I do well, Master?” she asks eventually.

“You did wonderfully, Belle.” With that, the use of her name rather than ‘my dear’ or ‘dearest’, their playtime is coming to an end. Gold kisses her gently, soft pecks to her lips and cheeks as he unfastens the handcuffs and the nipple clamps, the chains clinking as he sets them on the workbench beside her and helps her to sit up, rubbing her wrists and going to massage her breasts, but Belle hisses at the touch of his hand against her over-sensitive nipple.

“Yellow,” she says. “Too sensitive right now. Give me a minute.”

Gold nods and kisses her cheek again. “Of course. You did wonderfully today, sweetheart. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Oh, very much so.”

He moves down and frees her ankles, rubbing the joints and encouraging her to move them all around. She curls them up under her as Gold brings over a soft blanket from the cot and wraps it around her, tucking her in tightly and he perches on the bench beside her, holding her close and stroking her arm gently. Belle leans into his side, closing her eyes with a smile. It always strikes her how quickly he can change from Master to husband. He takes such good care of her when they play, and she submits to him willingly because she knows he’ll look after her properly.

“How are your nipples?” he asks.

“Ok now, I think. Maybe a little TLC is in order.”

Gold slips a hand inside the blanket and finds her breast, cupping gently and rubbing his palm over her nipple. This time his touch is soothing, and Belle gives a little hum of appreciation. Having given her other breast the same careful attention, his hand comes lower and begins to pick at the lines of wax on her stomach.

“It’s ok,” Belle says. “Leave it. We’ll get it off in the bath at home.” He usually runs a nice hot bubble bath for her when they get back to the house, and Belle glances sideways at him, a little smile coming over her face. “Will you join me in it?”

Gold gives a soft huff of laughter. “If you wish.”

“Oh, I do. It’s a long time since we last bathed together. And I’m sure it will be much easier for you to help me get the wax off if you’re in the tub with me.”

Gold just kisses her, and Belle closes her eyes, losing herself in his embrace. Tomorrow, she’ll be back to the prim and proper librarian, and no one will ever know what has happened behind the pawn shop doors.

But for tonight, she surrenders eagerly.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #A Monthly Rumbelling #Belle French #Mr Gold #Fic: Beauty in Chains #Queue

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praisemyrelijin-blog · 5 years

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obedience ; k.th

❝ Hi!! it’s okay if you can’t, but is there a possibility you could write a smut about Taehyung where the reader is being disobedient on purpose so like she touches herself just to get punished~ It’s totally okay if you can’t!! lots of hugs 🤗 -anon

↠ warnings | thigh spanking [?] ; oral to and from both parties ; marking ; scratching ; orgasm denial ; orgasm control ; dom!taehyung ; dirty talk ; i think taehyung calls the reader a bitch at least once in this fic ; basically P O R N

⇥ masterlist

You watch quietly as Taehyung continued brushing gentle strokes against the white canvas, lips pulled into a small pout and fingers tapping impatiently against your bare thigh. With only Taehyung’s shirt pulled onto your small frame, you were a bit exposed in the light of his apartment. Speaking of, the busy man still hasn’t given you the time you were expecting to get when you arrived to his living quarters, even after undressing in front of him to teasingly throw on a shirt.

It had been two hours since you twisted open the door handle of his front door and he was still painting the city - though, you couldn’t blame him considering that he had one of the best views of Seoul. Your eyes followed every movement he made; watching the gentle flicks of his wrist, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration, the small appearance of his tongue whenever it came out to wet his lips, - this man was utter perfection.

“Taehyung-ah.” You call gently, trying to get him to pay attention to you. His deep hum indicated that he heard you, and you rub your thighs together at the raspy tone, a familiar stickiness clinging to the skin of your inner thighs. It never took much to get you turned on and Taehyung knew that; you were the epitome of hormonal.

“I need you,” You whined earnestly, wriggling slightly on the comfortable plush of his couch, “Taehyung-” Taehyung grunted, putting down his paint brush to turn in his seat to evaluate you. “Be good for Taehyungie, princess, and you’ll get rewarded.” You snarl in annoyance to his back when he turns to finish the painting off.

You had been here for over two hours, and when he finally spoke to you or acknowledged you was to tell you to ‘be good’? Fuck off. “Taehyung.” You say his name once more, a little more force in your tone. “Baby girl, I’m busy. Stop disobeying me and be patient.”

Your nose scrunches at the tone he uses with you, but you unwillingly comply nonetheless.

When ten minutes passed, you had had enough. Taehyung didn’t want to pay attention to you, fine, you’ll just play with yourself. Not sparing the man you love a glance, you maneuver yourself so you’re comfortable on his sofa, patting pillows down and spreading your legs. Closing your eyes, you become immersed in the way your body talks to you; ‘spread your legs,’ you imagined it was him speaking to you in his low voice, ‘open up, baby girl.’

Your legs widen on their own and you slip two fingers in your mouth, lavishing them up with saliva and then guiding them down to your clothed core. Considering that you had a fair amount of wetness sticking you to the piece of cloth and the liquid on your fingers, you found it fairly easy to guide a single, teasing finger inside. With a small breath of relief, you take your other hand and use it to knead your breasts.

You circled your clit hesitantly, biting your lip to prevent any wanton moans from falling out. Slowly, you start a pace that has you feeling weak. One finger wasn’t enough, so you slowly ease another while you thrust in and out of yourself. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t hear Taehyung throw his brush down onto the table next to him; didn’t hear the sound his chair made when he scraped it along the floor to escape his easel; didn’t hear his footsteps as he stomped towards you.

You did, however, hear the baritone of his raspy voice when he spoke to you in an all-too-familiar voice. “You naughty, naughty girl.” Your eyes snap open in shock when you hear him, legs instinctively snapping closed simultaneously. “T-Taehyung-” He presses a finger to your lips, eyes darkening at the sight of your blown out pupils. “Open your legs, baby girl.” You avoid his eyes, complying to his wishes.

His eyes trail down to the treasure between your legs, tongue coming out to lick his luscious lips. “So wet,” He trails off, fingers coming out to softly massage the skin of your thigh, close to wear you needed him most. “Is this all for me?” You whimper and nod your head. Your head goes to loll back and rest against the arm of the sofa when a sharp slap to your thigh followed by another massage alerted you.

You whine out when Taehyung brings his hand back again and harshly leaves a red mark on your skin. “You impatient girl, you couldn’t even wait until I was finished?” You whimper your answer out, mind too clouded to answer coherently, “Y-You were t-taking t-too long, Tae.” You reason with him breathlessly.

Another slap made contact with your skin, making you hiss at the pleasurable feeling it gave you. Euphoric waves of ecstasy weaved their ways through your bloodstream when he struck you again, eyes glassy with pure need. Taehyung hums at your response, gently kneading the flesh.

“But did I tell you to wait, sweetheart?” You whimper once more at the pet name and he digs his nails pleasantly into your thigh, “Answer me, pet.” You nod your head frantically once more, causing a teasing grin to break out on his face. “It’s not so hard, is it?” Taehyung asks, “To follow instructions, to be obedient.” He drawls out the last word, allowing his slender fingers to wander closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“That’s all that I want, sweet thing, your obedience.”

His voice was much closer than you registered it to be before, and you spare him a glance. His face was directly in front of yours, making you breathless at the gorgeous sight. His eyes fully blown out with lust and strings of auburn hair falling delicately into his face - you were staring at a fucking angel, you concluded, an angel with the intentions of a demon. “But you couldn’t obey a single, fucking, rule.” His other hand wove up to the nape of your neck and laced it’s fingers into your hair before it pulled.

You almost sob out at the amount of pleasure you felt, lips pulled into a pout of pure ecstasy and breaths coming out short and steady. “Taehyung, ‘m sorry-” He cuts you off with a bite to your bottom lip, tongue laving it up before responding, “Sorry won’t cut it this time, kitten.” The hand at the back of your head pushes you forward to meet his lips, mouth instantly opening to accommodate the warm muscle he pushed into your mouth.

You immediately submit to his dominant thrashes in your mouth and he lets out an eager groan at the action. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He comments bashfully when his lips leave yours, “too bad you don’t have any fucking ears.” Taehyung’s comment doesn’t go unheard and you fight the urge to giggle at the statement, but Taehyung ignores that and fights a smile threatening to take place on his own face.

He trails soft butterfly kisses down your face and onto your neck, incorporating rough bites and soothing tongue remedies to make you squeal out with excitement. You closed your eyes as you felt him paint your body in the most gorgeous of colours: varieties of blues, purples and reds coated your neck. Taehyung truly was an artist, you would never deny it. The way his mouth worked against you was like art, the way he covered you in the prettiest of colours was art, the way he made love to you was art.

It was almost as if he was painting a flower bed on your chest, unbuttoning a single button before using his mouth as a paintbrush and painting the soft skin there lavender. Unbuttoning the next button and painting the skin there rose. You mewl loudly when he reaches the top of your naval, raising your panty-clad hips up to search for some friction.

He tuts quietly at the action and uses his hands to push your body back down onto the couch. “This is your punishment, baby.” He smirks at you from your legs and you almost cry out at the sight. “No touching, other wise you won’t cum for a whole month.” Your eyes almost bug out of your head when you hear the result if you’re naughty, he’s never been this cruel before.

Taehyung’s sinful muscle peeks out teasingly to lick against the space between your thighs and your core, making your pussy clench. Kitten licks decorated your thighs and you knew this was him trying to provoke you, but you bit your tongue and fought the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair and push his face towards your dripping hole.

Taehyung utters a surprised chuckle at the amount of restraint you’re showing, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he chooses to ease small kitten licks onto your covered treasure, making you whine out. You don’t move though, body shaking from the stress you feel. “Taehyung, please!” Your lover chuckles and decides to reward you, flattening his tongue on you.

You whimper at the contact and hold yourself back from rotating your hips on his muscle. Taehyung dips his tongue lower to your hole, but the fabric prevented him from doing anything explicit. His nose touches your ember and you almost scream at the pent up sexual frustration you felt at that moment.

Taehyung taps you on the hip and you raise yourself, allowing him to take the soaked cloth off of you. He brings them to his nose and smells them, sighing out in pleasure before throwing them over his shoulder. “You smell absolutely delicious, Kitten.” He compliments you before he spreads your legs wider and delves into the flavours of your juices. You cry out as his tongue pushes itself into your tight hole and his nose prods your clit.

You immediately clamp your thighs tightly around his head once the pleasure starts coursing through your body, but he pries them open with ease. “Control yourself, pretty.” His words were muffled because his mouth was otherwise… occupied. You hiccup and he grins against your pussy, “You’re sopping, princess.” Taehyung spares you another kitten lick and you collapse on the couch, moaning loudly. “Are you close?” You answer him with a nod of your head.

You regret that. Taehyung pulls away with a smack of his lips and you groan out in protest. “Remember, baby, this is a punishment.” Taehyung crawls over your and stares into your eyes with a smirk, before dropping down and pressing his lips to yours. You make a noise of satisfaction and open your mouth to accommodate his tongue. He licks at every crevice of your mouth, and you bite down softly on the muscle, making him whine into your mouth.

The sound makes you roll your hips against his and Taehyung growls at the contact, unwillingly pulling his lips away from yours. “You want to feel my cock, baby?” He teases, grinding down on your core and making you cry out from the contact, “You dirty little girl, you want my cum to fill you up?” You nod frantically as his slack-covered bottom grinded heavenly against your hips. “Yes, Taehyung, oh my god - please!” Taehyung grins.

“That’s right. Beg for Taehyungie’s cock, you bitch, beg.” You sob out and claw out Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung instantly pulls away as soon as your nails made contact with him and tuts in disappointment. “I told you you can’t touch me, boo.” He pouts and moves to pull his cock out, the sight making you lick your lips in hunger. “Now you’re just going to have to watch me.”

“No!” You sob out as the leaking red head of his dick makes an appearance, “I’ll do anything, just - fuck - please make me cum.” Taehyung peeps through one of his closed eyes and licks his lips, then he slowly starts pumping his manhood. His breathing quickens and with his other hand he motions for you to sit up. “Choke on this cock, pretty.” You do as he says, gently tugging his hand off of his dick and bringing your own up to fondle with his balls.

His hands found home in your hair, the strands weaving perfectly around his long fingers. Your eyes flicker up to Taehyung’s ones for a moment and the sight has you breathless; his pupils were fully blown out and his lips were caught between his teeth, his hair a hot mess on the top of his head and beads of sweat that formed on his hairline were slowly running down his face. He was a glorious mess, he was yours.

With that sight, you took the head of his cock and enveloped it into your mouth. Taehyung’s response was the usual when you sucked him off; loud, responsive and rough. With your hair clenched tightly between his fingers, he set a furious pace. Hips messily thrusting forward and into your mouth, you relax your throat so he could have his way with you. “You’re so good to me, baby.” He praises you relentlessly as his hips drove roughly into your throat. “So good to your Taehyungie.” One particularly hard thrust has you choking on his manhood and a low sound rumbles from his chest.

He continues to press forward, holding himself there until tears are running down your face at the sensation. Once the first tear drops, he rears back once more. You gasp for breath when his dick leaves your tongue and he gently pats your cheek with his leaking head. “Such a good girl, honey.” He praises. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung presses his lips to yours once more, laying you on the plush cushions of his sofa and caressing your hips gently like you were made of the finest china. His petal-like lips leave yours softly and he shuffles so his hips were pressed against yours and his exposed cock was sliding easily through your wetness. You mewl loudly at the contact and bring your nails weakly down his chest, painting your own canvas.

Taehyung didn’t speak as he pushed into your softness, only releasing a small sound of utter pleasure as he sunk to the hilt. You, on the other hand, gasp out when he bottoms out and his pubic bone gently scraps your clit. Taehyung pauses - the blowjob had already made him close but the way you were clenching around him made him feel like he was in heaven. He opens one eye to check on you.

“You alright, beauty?”

You bite your lip and nod, making him release a breath. Taehyung slowly draws his hips back before slamming into you, making you cry out in wanton need. “Fuck, you’re so tight - how are you so tight?” He cursed lowly, hips setting a brutal pace that has you weak. “O-Only for you, Taehyung.” Taehyung moans at your answer, putting more power behind his thrusts.

“Only for me?” He questions, hips slamming wildly against yours, “This pussy is only for me?” You squeal as he leans down and sucks more blossoms into your skin, your back arching and chasing his lips when he pulls away. “I fucking asked you a question.” A finger prods your swollen clit and you whimper loudly, bucking your hips to match his furious pace.

You felt your high nearing, unsurprisingly near thanks to Taehyung’s tongue. You bite your lip to prevent any shrieks of euphoria from leaving and Taehyung notices, using his unoccupied hand to grasp your wrists and place them tightly above your head. “I want to hear you when you cum, princess.” Taehyung’s wild hips clash with yours heavily and his breathing picks up as he nears his own high.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” He taunts, voice a deadly tone. “Are you going to cum all over my cock?” Another nod was sent his way, “Open your mouth for me, babe. Tell me, use your words.”

Taehyung’s pace suddenly slowed down to a speed that made your high immediately disappear. Your eyes flutter weakly and Taehyung kisses your eyelids, “Baby girl, I want to hear you scream my name.” And then suddenly, your high was within a radius that you could reach. Taehyung’s arms circle around your waist and he picks you up so you were chest to chest with him.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered over your wrecked state, and fuck, you looked like pure sin. Your mouth was open mid-moan and a trail of your dried tears from the blowjob you generously gave him formed small streams on your face. Your pupils were fully blown out and fuck did he really want to kiss you right now. And so he did; teeth clashing and tongues wrestling passionately as his hips pistoned into yours.

You gasp into his mouth as his pubic bone touched your clit and your hand clenched around your orgasm as tight as your grip on Taehyung’s hair. You wouldn’t say that you saw stars burst when your orgasm came, but it’s a close comparison. The first thing you saw? Taehyung. Taehyung and his beauty that could never be compared to the beauty of a burning star, Taehyung and his beauty that could never be captured in a painting or photograph, as it would do him no justice.

“Taehyung-” You cut yourself off as you burst around him and he eases on the thrusts so you could ride out your orgasm. Taehyung gasped as he pulled out of your warmth, hand quickly rubbing over his cock until he exploded over your bare stomach, head thrown back and eyes closed as he groaned out. It was silent as he collapsed on top of you tiredly, the sounds of heavy pants being the only audible thing in the room before you giggled.

Taehyung was lucky he had a big enough couch and he leaned down to pick up your - his - crumpled button up that he had thrown on the floor earlier to wipe his seed on your stomach. “Why are you laughing, beautiful?” He asks after the semen has fully disappeared and the shirt was thrown half-assedly into the washing basket.

You turn to face his broad chest and snuggle into it, “I don’t know.” Taehyung places a single slap to your ass, making you scream out in surprise. Taehyung’s eyes glistened as he stared at your content face, “I love you.” You tilted your head up and pressed your pillow lips to his plush ones, “I love you more.” Taehyung snorts at that and presses another lingering kiss to your hairline. “I love you most.”

#Kim Taehyung #Taehyung smut #Kim Taehyung smut #BTS smut #BTS #Taehyung #Taehyung fluff #Taehyung angst #Kim Taehyung fluff #Kim Taehyung angst #BTS fluff #BTS angst #smut

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ylla · 7 years

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This Must Be The Place

Series: JJBA Characters: Nijimura Okuyasu, Higashikata Josuke Pairing: Higashikata Josuke/Nijimura Okuyasu Tags: Modern AU, mental health issues, implied/referenced domestic violence, underage smoking/drinking Rating: M AO3 link

i got the jjba fever, and these boys have killed me. i used my own experiences as someone with PTSD/DV survivor, so hopefully this comes across as coherent and a decent charaterization. there’s a specific au that this fic comes from, but it’s a roleplay thing with my two BFFs, and would take too long to explain what we did soooo, i kept those references to a minimum. i will eventually write for this pairing again, PLEASE ENJOY THIS TRIP TO HELL (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

If anything could be said about Okuyasu Nijimura, aside from his unwavering dedication to being a punk (smoking, loud swearing in public, spitting on the sidewalk, driving his motorcycle at unheard of speeds in residential areas, cutting class, the list goes on), it would be that underneath that scowling veneer, there was an entirely too soft heart residing in the core of him. He cared too much about: animals, sometimes sad looking objects that looked like no one cared about when he was feeling real emotional, and people. Especially one person in particular. Who was named Josuke ‘Gets Owned at Smash Brothers Constantly like a Fuckin’ Nerd’ Higashikata.

Yeah, Okuyasu loved a lot of other people. His dad, his brother, Ms. Higashikata who treated him like he was her own, Koichi, Tonio, a bunch of others who had shown him compassion and love at some point since he came to Morioh, and even Stray Cat (how much someone can love a sentient cat plant is debatable, but Oku wasn’t one to think too hard about that kind of thing). But, it was clear that his feelings for Josuke were, well…something a little more. Which of course, Okuyasu was aware that he had caught the dreaded Feelings; he oscillated between flat denials to everyone who raised eyebrows at his gushing over Josuke to actively sweating over how to confess that he was truly, madly, deeply in love with his best friend.

The first time Josuke and Okuyasu met wasn’t exactly romantic. Rather, it was lucky that both of them came out the situation alive, let alone Best Fuckin’ Bros. When he was laying there, staring up at the sky as Josuke healed him, anger disappearing alongside his wounds, he was struck by just how pretty Josuke was. Not only did he owe him one, but Okuyasu found it hard to punch a guy who did made his stomach do weird things when he looked him directly in the face. His handsome face. With pouty lips and the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, and—holy shit, Josuke had an ass on him. A booty that could kill a man, given what it was doing to Okuyasu.

Besides the fattest ass he had ever seen and lips that would look good wrapped around anything, Okuyasu was amazed by how good-hearted Josuke was. Risking himself for Koichi, trying to help the elder Nijimura, saving Okuyasu’s life despite having been punched in the face repeatedly and almost killed by him. Comforting him after his brother was murdered. Accepting him as a friend the very next day. It was kindness without condition. It was more than Okuyasu had ever experienced, and he felt that he didn’t deserve it.

If you asked Okuyasu later, after everything had settled, when he knew that he was enamored with Josuke ‘Saves a Man’s Life Minutes after Hitting Him in the Goods with a Flower Pot’ Higashikata, his response would have been a simple statement:

“There’s no reason he has to die.”

Ain’t that a kick in the dick?

Masculinity is a funny thing, really. Men do a lot of odd shit in order to preserve their ‘manhood’, a vague concept in the best of times. In their quest in being ‘the manliest man’, dudes repress emotions, burying them and deflecting them with humor or just surly nature. Okuyasu wasn’t like a lot of dudes. He knew this. Keicho had made it a point to drive home this fact every chance he got. Okuyasu wore his heart on his sleeve. He cried frequently. He was unflinchingly honest with how he felt and saw himself in the grand scheme of things or compared to his friends. It was refreshing in the best of times, heartbreaking at the worst.

Okuyasu was convinced he wasn’t worth a damn thing; dumb, worthless, incompetent, waste of space. It was like a mantra that had been pounded into his head since he could remember. Stupid stupid stupid. He was pretty secure in his convictions. Not worthy of anyone’s time or effort. Nothing redeeming about him. This was a something he had long since accepted.

But, meeting Josuke changed everything. Finally, there was a person in his life who built him up, rather than do their damnedest hurt him.

“You’re great, Okuyasu!”

“Dude, that’s fucking GENIUS.”

“You’re the funniest person I’ve ever met, no joke.”

His heart swelled so much when he heard Josuke pay him compliments, he was pretty sure it was gonna burst out of his chest. Okuyasu was fairly certain that Josuke didn’t really pay his own remarks any mind, but they meant so much to him. Deep down in his heart of hearts, Okuyasu Nijimura wanted nothing more than to be what Josuke saw.

If he was asked what the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, Okuyasu would know that it would be a sleepy whisper he heard while sharing a bed with his best bro:

“I’m really glad I met you.”

Though feelings weren’t hard for Okuyasu to talk about, getting into a conversation about how he really felt about his Best Fuckin’ Bro or his psychological and physical scars wasn’t something he wanted to do, ever. He got the feeling that Josuke felt the same about his own shit, so they never really talked about their deep seated issues at length. Anything else was fair game; both boys enjoyed their late night deep conversations about anything, everything, and nothing all at once. It just never strayed into murky territory.

Then Kira blew that all to hell.

In all honesty, Okuyasu doesn’t remember much of that fight. There’s a big black space, punctuated with a sad dream about Keicho and decision-making, between meeting Kira in the street and finding Josuke collapsed in a puddle of his own blood, with wooden spikes pointing out of his body, making him look like the world’s saddest marionette. The rest is a blur, but he remembers clutching Josuke, trying to get his writhing, pompadoured friend to stay still until paramedics could get to him.

“You’re alive” Josuke croaked.

“Yeah buddy, I’m good, I’m golden.” Okuyasu was sitting on his knees with his arms around Josuke’s chest, holding him tightly without trying to hurt him further, “You need to stop moving, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Josuke was trying to turn around, “I’m aces, let me touch you. You’re alive. You’re alive, thank god. Thank god” he kept whispering, shaking so hard his teeth was chattering. Okuyasu wasn’t sure why Josuke was shaking like that, or why he was so clammy, so he just kept ahold of him, brushing his thumbs against the uninjured parts of his friend’s face, a desperate attempt at comfort.

Later, after Josuke had been loaded into the ambulance and Jotaro ushered him into a car to follow, that he learned Josuke was going into shock. Okuyasu knew that that much blood loss and shock had a very good chance of being fatal. A numb feeling crept into him, the gravity of the situation not truly hitting him until he sat in the ICU lounge at the hospital. He felt like he should cry; instead he just trembled.

It wasn’t until Tomoko arrived, bearing fresh clothes not only for her son, but for Okuyasu as well, did the dam finally break. Horrible, ugly sobs broke out of him; Tomoko shushed him while wiping away his tears, “The nurses are okay with letting you use a shower. Go get cleaned up and changed. I’ll send someone to get you if you’re not back before he’s able to have visitors.” With a nod, he managed to swallow back his tears. Tomoko sighed, her brows knitted together. Clearly, she was concerned with the wellbeing of both her son and the boy in front of her. It shouldn’t have surprised him when he was pulled into her patent Mom-is-Here-to-Make-It-Better Hug, but the kindness made Okuyasu’s sobs break out with renewed vigor. She just held him; rubbing his back and whispering reassuring things. Besides looks, it was easy to see that Josuke inherited a lot more from his mother.

Okuyasu managed to get himself back under control before letting go, hightailing it to the bathroom before he could make a fool of himself any further. Panic attacks where something he was already used to experiencing, but it never made it any easier. “Everything will be okay,” he mumbled over and over to himself, rocking back and forth under the blistering hot water.

Even after his near-hour long shower, he emerged fairly calmer. Actually he wasn’t, but he was able to fool himself into thinking he was. Josuke was in recovery, no one was allowed to see him aside from Tomoko, per Jotaro. All he could say was okay before aimlessly pacing around the room. The lounge was empty, save for Okuyasu and Jotaro keeping watch. “Okuyasu,” Jotaro finally said after what felt like century of silence, “Sit down.” The teenager had been staring into the corridor leading down to the surgery wing; he looked over at Jotaro, who hadn’t even bothered to stop reading his book.

Okuyasu nodded, “Yeah, okay.” He forced himself to sit on a couch, leaning back to get somewhat comfortable. He was asleep within a matter of minutes.

A gentle hand shook him awake, “Oku, honey.” Terrified, he gasped sharply, The Hand materializing beside him to fuck up— it was Tomoko. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Josuke’s awake and begging for you.” He spared a glance over her shoulder at Jotaro, who was hovering in the background, wearing a look on his face that Okuyasu didn’t like. A look that asked the question, “What the fuck?” He wasn’t in the mood to answer.

Getting his bearings, he dismissed The Hand, “S’fine. I’m up.”

It was a small miracle that Josuke got himself a private room. As they walked, Tomoko warned Okuyasu, “His injuries weren’t as bad as they feared, so he’ll get to go home in a few days, baring no infection. He’s loopy from the medication, and thinks—“ she bit her lip and Okuyasu instinctively knew how she was about to finish that statement, “He thinks you were injured? Something about a hole in your chest? He’s…he’s very upset. I just wanted you to be prepared.”

She looked so worried and afraid. He’d never seen her that vulnerable looking; it broke Okuyasu’s fragile heart into a million little pieces. “I figured. I think what happened made me hit my head, go unconscious. He was pretty fu—I mean messed up when I came to. Kept muttering about how I was alive.” Jotaro had told Okuyasu on the way there that they were to refer to this incident as a gas leak, and nothing more. He resented the fact that Jotaro felt the need to tell him because no shit sherlock, but then he remembered he was a fucking idiot with a big mouth anyways, so it was probably for the best. They made it to the door of Josuke’s room. Oku felt compelled to comfort her. “Don’t worry ‘bout him Ms. H, he’s gonna be okay. He’s tough as sh—an old boot?”

Tomoko gave him a teary smile and patted his face affectionately. Okuyasu wanted to do nothing more than to time travel and punch Joseph Joestar right in the fucking face for hurting such a sweet woman. We can’t win them all.

The lights in Josuke’s room were dimmed, in the hopes it would get him to sleep. It didn’t work, because Josuke was sitting straight up, eyes wide and completely zoned out. His only movements were him chewing on his bottom lip. His hair was a complete, utter disaster. The entire scene was unsettling. For a split second, Tomoko looked like how Okuyasu felt, until Mom Mode kicked in. “Honey, I’m back,” she placed a hand on Josuke’s shoulder, “I brought Okuyasu with me.” Josuke flinched, brought back to reality. He focused on Tomoko for a few seconds before his eyes slid over to Okuyasu. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Josuke started struggling to get out of bed.

“Don’t—Damnit Josuke, don’t get up,” Okuyasu strode over to him, “you’ll bust your stitches.” Carefully stepping over all the bullshit wires attached to Josuke, Oku sat on the edge of his hospital bed. The roles were reversed for once; Josuke clung to him, sobbing wildly, while a slightly uncomfortable Okuyasu rubbed his back and did his best to comfort him.

“I thought you were dead.” He was slightly slurring.

“I’m fine Josuke, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m okay. Everyone is okay.”

Reassurances meant jack shit when Josuke was clearly convinced that he had died, but it was all Oku had.

After a few more minutes of trying to calm Josuke down, the doctor walked in, his timing terrible. Tomoko got up and ushered him out of the room, knowing how her son felt about people seeing him cry. It was just the two bros left alone. At that point, Josuke managed to get his crying under control. He leaned back, putting his hand on the right side of Okuyasu’s chest, looking directly into his eyes, “You had a hole. Right here. From Kira’s explosion. I fixed it, but—“ his voice broke, “You were deadweight. You weren’t breathing. You had to be dead. There’s nothing else you could’ve been. I pretended it wasn’t true, but it was.”

The look on his best friend’s face was the most heartbreaking thing he had ever seen. Tentatively, Okuyasu wiped away Josuke’s tears, “You saved me, dude. Fixed me up, and I’m as good as new…so don’t cry okay? I’m okay.” Josuke closed his eyes and pressed his face into Oku’s touch. Thank god Tomoko was out of the room, or she would have seen Okuyasu blush so hard, he looked like he was seconds away from having a stroke.

Tell him! His inner voice screeched. Tell him you’re in love with him!!! Tell him now!!! Stop being a baby-backed bitch!!!

No, don’t! Another part of his conscience warned, Josuke’s emotionally vulnerable right now. He would feel obligated to return your feelings. Don’t put him through that. He’s suffered enough.

“Come on, lay back down. You’re gonna regret moving around this much when the morphine wears off.”

“Only if you promise you’re gonna stay right here with me.”

“M’not going anywhere, I promise.” Okuyasu had no idea if he was allowed to stay or not, but he would do his damnedest to keep his word.

Mercifully, Josuke calmed down enough to let his head hit the pillow with a groan. Then he remembered his hair existed. His hands flew up to the greasy, rat’s nest that his pomp had become. “Oh godDAMNIT” Josuke looked like he was about to cry again.

Panicking a little bit, Okuyasu stroked his face, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to French braid it?”

Josuke was distracted from his despair, “You know how to French braid?”

The next few hours were dedicated to fixing Josuke’s fucked up hair. The actual braiding normally doesn’t take that long, but Okuyasu was continuously interrupted from his task by what felt like literally the entire hospital. It was his own damn fault, insisting that it would be easier to do two braids since Josuke had so much hair, not admitting that it would take longer and therefore, give him more time to play with his bro’s hair. Had to find a comb and hair ties (thank God Tomoko had the sense to pack both in an overnight bag), then spent a while gently brushing out all of the product Josuke liked to use. Doctors and nurses were in and out. Koichi, accompanied by a scowling Rohan, stopped in briefly to check on the hero of the day; they left shortly afterwards, with Koichi giving Okuyasu a promise that he would check on his dad for him. Josuke had to eat and use the bathroom. Jotaro also popped in, but he mostly stayed outside in the hallway, reading. A nurse tried to get him to go back to the lounge, but Jotaro’s menacing aura and cold-as-death stare deterred the young man from continuing his train of thought. The marine biologist wasn’t bothered after that.

It was clear to Okuyasu that Tomoko knew Josuke better than anyone, seemingly able to anticipate his needs before anyone else, including Josuke himself. In all honesty, didn’t take a genius to see that her son was mostly calm only when Oku was in touching distance. So when the evening was winding down, and visiting hours were over, Tomoko shouted down the nurses who tried to get Okuyasu to leave. It was unknown to the teenager if she got her way using ironclad determination or if Jotaro’s menacing over her shoulder helped. Probably a little from column A and column B.

Okuyasu had started four hours ago, and was just now beginning on Josuke’s second braid. Tomoko had left the room to make some phone calls; presumably to work, Koichi’s mother, other relatives that Okuyasu had never met, and very possibly the Speedwagon Foundation (Jotaro had given her the number, simply stating “They’ll take care of everything” before throwing a hand up in goodbye and leaving). Josuke had managed, with a medium amount of effort, to sit with his back facing the edge of his bed. Okuyasu stood behind him, taking his time weaving Josuke’s hair. A comfortable silence had fallen on them until Josuke broke it, “Can I ask you something?”

This was typically how their deep conversations started. Okuyasu was already uneasy, “Go ahead.”

“When did you learn how to French braid?” At least Josuke was no longer slurring.

It was expected that the question would come up. Didn’t make him feel any better about the direction this conversation was heading. Okuyasu answered, “Keicho taught me.”

Josuke made the same noise in his throat that he always did when Keicho was brought up. Okuyasu grimaced. He was very aware of Josuke’s feelings regarding his big brother. A minute or two passed before Josuke spoke again, “Why did he teach you? Like, how the hell did he know?”

He was already in this deep, might as well share the story. “When mom was in the hospital, she taught ‘em how to do it. Keicho told me that she said it made her feel like an actual person again.” He paused for a minute, taking a slow, measured breath. “Big bro grew his hair out after she died. Taught me how to braid like that. I mostly did it when we were kids, but he’d ask me once in a blue moon when we got older.” Okuyasu paused again because his hands started shaking. He waited until it passed before he continued with his work.

Silence fell on them again for a bit. “When was the last time you did it?” Josuke asked.

Oku shifted from foot to foot, “…Dunno, maybe like, eight months ago? Nine months? Before we moved to Morioh. We had our stands for at least a year before…” At this point, Okuyasu was just talking, “Keicho had been out all day and it was late that night when he got back.”

“What was he doing?”

“Stand user hunting I guess? He’d get really pissed off if I ever questioned it.” Okuyasu shrugged. “A lot of times he’d just come home in some shitty mood and yell me or dad for whatever reason, but that night he was just. Tired. He showered, then kinda hovered in the doorway to my room until he asked me to braid his hair like I used to. So I did.” Okuyasu sighed, feeling weary down to the bone himself, “We didn’t talk when I did it, but after I finished, he said that he was going to bed and that he loved me…Probably last time I ever heard ‘em say that…”

Josuke wasn’t saying anything. The silence stretched on for minutes, and Oku started babbling, “I—I know he did a lot of awful shit, and I ain’t defending it—“ Before he could say anything else, the braid was finally finished; Okuyasu tied it off, grateful that he could move on from the subject. “I—I finally finished your hair. Now let’s get you laid back down, I’ve kept ya sitting up long enough.” He put a hand on Josuke’s back and the other on his shoulder to help him turn—

“Oku.”

“Y-yeah?”

Josuke was still facing forward, his voice soft, “You can braid my hair anytime you want to,” taking his non-IV’d hand and squeezed one resting on his shoulder.

Even as he flew high on morphine, riddled with holes and broken ribs, Josuke Higashikata was comforting his best bro. Tears stung the backs of Okuyas’s eyes. Goddamnit, why was he so good to him when he never fucking deserved it in the first place. He was the one in the fucking hospital, but the only thing on Josuke’s mind was his feelings. “Thanks bro. I’ll hold you to that” he said thickly.

Josuke patted his hand before allowing Okuyasu to help him lay down, “You’re gonna stay right?”

“Yeah. I think your mom scared the shit out of the doctors, so they’re, uh, gonna make an exception for me.”

“Good…good…”

Josuke was finally settled down in bed, looking pitiful. “Did mom bring a mirror? I wanna check out your handiwork.”

There was in fact a handheld mirror in the overnight bag Tomoko brought. She really did know her son. Okuyasu, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, held up the mirror for him, “If you don’t like it, I can take your hair down—“

A critical eye appraised the twin braids on his head. Agonizing seconds pass before Josuke spoke again, “Dude, it looks really good…”Josuke ran a hand over them, making an appreciative noise. He looked back up at his friend, “I can say that I now officially trust you with my hair. Promise you’ll do it again?” A smile, albeit a weary, tired one, was on his face.

If the Earth had opened up and swallowed Okuyasu whole, he would have just accepted it, knowing that he just got paid the highest compliment Josuke ‘I’ll Whoop Your Fuckin’ Ass if You Insult or Touch My Hair’ Higashikata could ever give another person. And if his face got any redder, he would probably pass out. I’m in love with you, you heartbreakingly beautiful bastard is what he wanted to say. Instead, he turned around, busying himself by pulling an extra armchair Jotaro may or may not have jacked from another room as close as he could to Josuke’s bed, desperately trying not look like a fucking fool. “That’s some high fuckin’ praise coming from you…I promise dude, you’re in good hands” he said, amazed at how even he had managed to make his voice sound.

Okuyasu managed to kick his shoes off and sit down, wrapping himself in a blanket that Jotaro also may have stolen. Immediately, he felt sleep almost overwhelm him. Before he would let it, Okuyasu glanced over at Josuke, who was intently staring at him. To his credit, Oku didn’t flinch, “You good, man? Morphine still killing the pain?” Josuke kept staring at him, and instead of actually answering, he spoke in a voice that was too small to come from him, “Will you hold my hand?”

Tears threatened again, but he nodded, “Yeah, man. I got you.” It wasn’t as awkward Okuyasu thought it would be, angling arms enough to where they would both be comfortable. Josuke’s hand was icy in his, and Oku rubbed his thumb in gentle circles over the back of his hand, trying to warm it up.

Josuke was asleep and Okuyasu was on the verge when he heard Tomoko quietly slip back in. The still lucid part of his brain was hollering about how she could clearly see him holding hands with her son, but the tired part was stronger and kept pulling him closer to sleep. She said nothing, merely walking over to Okuyasu and adjusting his blanket to cover him better, before planting a motherly kiss on the side of Oku’s head. He wanted to just weep forever. Tomoko gave Josuke the same treatment before settling down herself.

If you asked Okuyasu when he knew that his relationship with Josuke ‘Hold My Hand and Don’t Leave My Side, Bro’ Higashikata changed, his answer would be not when he was asked to hold his hand, or when Josuke was concerned about dumb shit with Keicho while recovering from horrible injuries, but when he was handed the key’s to his bro’s bread and butter: his precious hair. Most people would say that’s fucking stupid, but those people also got a kiss from Okuyasu’s fist, so who’s the real idiot here?

“Dude, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It was a complete waste of my damn time is what it was.”

Roughly six weeks had passed since Josuke had been released from the hospital. His physical injuries were mostly healed thanks to a (reluctant) visit to Tonio’s, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that the whole fight with Kira had taken a great toll on Josuke’s mental wellbeing. So apparent, that Tomoko had finally convinced her son to see a psychiatrist.

Okuyasu frowned at the top of Josuke’s head; he was once again French braiding his undone hair. Josuke had pulled out his pompadour in frustration earlier. “What was so bad about it? If you don’t mind me asking or—“

Josuke sighed irritably, and Oku flinched. He tried to remind himself that Josuke wasn’t mad at him, but at everything that was going on with him. “It’s just—“ Josuke began, “Being told you’re fucked up isn’t something you wanna hear.” Papers were being shuffled; Josuke was riffling through a plain manila folder again. Over his shoulder, Oku could see the title of a packet in big bold letters: PTSD: Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment. “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, commonly known as PTSD, blah blah blah,” he read aloud, “Symptoms include—I’m just gonna read the ones that doctor highlighted—Insomnia, irritability, social isolation—sorry Koichi, nightmares, avoidance, lack of self-care, severe anxiety—look at that, that one’s underlined—“

Pretending that a lot of that didn’t apply to himself, Okuyasu interjected, “So, he pegged what’s wrong with you—“

“Clearly.” The last words came out harshly, and Oku flinched. He just kept braiding, unsure what to say back. The doctor had hit the nail on the head. Josuke didn’t sleep much anymore. He went days without showering or changing his clothes (he had in fact showered and done his hair today, but it had been the first one in 6 days. Okuyasu mentally kept count). Refused to see anyone save for his mother, Koichi on rare occasions, and Okuyasu. Actually, Josuke panicked when Okuyasu was outside of his line of sight. So, he stayed with Josuke as much as he could, but his other responsibilities called him. Okuyasu felt such immense guilt when he had to leave. He wanted to do more for Josuke, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Josuke cleared his throat, “Hey, uhm…” Josuke shifted uncomfortably, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s not your fault, and I’m not mad at you.” He sounded so tired. It hurt Okuyasu’s heart.

“S’fine dude, don’t worry—“

“No it’s not! It’s not fine! None of this is fine!” Josuke flailed upwards, out of Oku’s grip. He started pacing, “What the fuck is wrong with me?? Kira’s fucking dead, and you’re—“ He stopped short, opting to rub his face hard instead, “Why am I like this?? Why am I so scared and sick all the time?? I’m a goddamn monster, look at how I’ve been treating people!” Josuke gestured to the empty room, to Oku. “I get so pissed off, for no damn reason, and I take it out on you or mom, and neither of you deserve that. You don’t deserve my stupid bullshit.”

If Okuyasu’s heart could break anymore, it would. Not knowing what else to do, he got up and pulled his bro into the tightest bear hug he could manage, “Dude—“

Josuke didn’t break down into gut-wreching sobs as he had been prone to do lately, instead just laid his head on his bro’s shoulder, speaking in a broken, small voice, “Just wanna be okay again, Oku.”

“I know,” Okuyasu whispered, “I know. You will be, it’s just gonna take a while to get there.”

Josuke heaved a watery sigh, “Not trying to be ‘that’ guy, but you don’t know that.”

It was Oku’s turn to snap, “Dude, yes I do!” He pulled away from Josuke, and grabbed him by the shoulders, the most stupid, serious look on his face. “I didn’t have the exact same thing happen to me, but I get it. All these symptoms?” Okuyasu bent over and picked up the folder, shaking it for emphasis, “I feel these every fucking day of my life, dude. Literally every day.”

“Oku—“

His voice fraught with emotion, Oku continued, “Yeah, you don’t really ever get 100% better. You’ll have a good day, but then you have a truly awful fucked up day the next, for no reason other than you just woke up. But, you can learn how to cope. And function. It’s really hard, but it’s possible.”

He was so heated. He had no reason to be, it’s not like he ever told Josuke all this. He’d never told anyone this. Okuyasu never considered him a victim, but goddamn did he know the structure of his own psychology. Filled with a sudden sense of shame over being upset, he turned around, unable to look at his friend, “You’re not a monster. You’re just a guy who went through some awful shit, and now needs help to get through it. And that’s okay.”

Okuyasu rubbed his face, what a mess. The room was deafeningly silent. Josuke hugged him from behind, wet face pressed into the shorter kid’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I should’ve—“

“No, don’t. Don’t be sorry. S’not like I advertise it.” Okuyasu squeezed his bro’s arm, “My point is, I’m like. Here for you, dude. To listen, or hangout, or whatever you need. You’re not alone.” Josuke said nothing, only nodding into his shoulder. “Also, I’m not done with your hair yet, sit back down so I can finish.” Okuyasu tugged on him; Josuke let go and sat back on the floor.

Sitting in silence while Oku worked gave him an opportunity to gather his thoughts. He was gonna help, even if it killed him.

Josuke brought him out of his thoughts again, “So. What do I need to do? To stop feeling like this.”

The rest of the afternoon was dedicated to just figuring out where to start.

“How do you like, deal with the bad shit in a not terrible way?” Josuke queried, pen in his mouth.

Oku tied off the first braid and moved on to the second, “It’s different for every person. I think Keicho dealt with shit by—“

“Yeah, don’t give a shit what he did. What do you do?”

“Depends. If I’m not thinking straight, I write shit out. If I have a nightmare, I go take a walk around the neighborhood to burn off steam. If I’m feeling itchy or panicking, I take a hot shower.”

Josuke nodded, writing down ideas on the back of the PTSD packet he was given. He seemed genuinely receptive to what Okuyasu was saying. When he finished Josuke’s hair, they both ended up laying in his bed, still spit balling.

“It’s also important to learn what might like, trigger all the bad feelings and shit.”

Josuke scratched his cheek “Feels like everything does.”

“Is there anything that makes you feel super bad? Or dredges up nasty thoughts?”

He took him a moment to answer, “…Remember how we watched Transformers the other day? All those explosions made me feel nauseous.”

Oku snapped his fingers, “There’s a start. So we start by limiting how much you see of that for awhile.”

“I think I’m good with like, cartoony explosions? Where it doesn’t involve shit that looks real?” Josuke’s brows furrowed, “That make sense?”

“Yeah, yeah I get you. So like, Looney Tunes shit or when Captain Falcon does The Knee of Justice in Smash—“

“Don’t worry, you can still use your main. I think I’ll be okay. If I’m not, I promise I’ll tell you.”

“Anything else you can name off of the top of your head?”

With a sigh, Josuke rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He was quiet for a long time, before speaking in a low voice, “If I don’t see you with my own two eyes, I get really anxious. Like, bad anxious. Gonna puke anxious. Can’t exactly see you at every given moment in the day, can I?”

Okuyasu chewed on his lip, trying to come up with an answer when the alarm on his phone rang. It was 4 o’clock in the afternoon; time to feed his dad again. The cogs in his brain started turning, “I got an idea. Gimme your phone.” Josuke acquiesced, unlocking it before handing it over. The wallpaper made Oku snort. It was a selfie of him, Josuke, and Koichi making drunken stupid faces. It had be the one time Koichi had ever gotten shitfaced with them. Oku pulled up his clock app and set a timer for 60 minutes.

“Okay, I’m gonna go over to my house for an hour. You can’t come with me, so what you’re gonna do is try some of these out.” He gestured at the back of the paper, “Maybe you’ll even come up with something we didn’t think of.”

Josuke shifted uncomfortably, already anxious-looking, “I dunno if I like this idea.”

“It’ll be good practice,” Oku said, while getting up, “Plus, if you need me, you can just text me.”

Josuke frowned at the ceiling, “I always need you.”

Both boys froze upon realizing what Josuke had just said.

Okuyasu stuttered, “I—I’m gonna go c-check on dad. Be b-back in bit.” He stumbled out of the room in a slight panic and was halfway down the stairs when he remembered to holler, “START THAT COUNTDOWN.”

“OKAY!” came the affirmative.

You could have fried an egg on Okuyasu’s face. He pounded down the street to his house, trying to run away from his feelings but, goddamnit, they were still there, following him. Since that first night in the hospital, his relationship with Josuke had become charged with an undercurrent that he couldn’t quite figure out. It was very obvious something had changed between them. They lingered when giving each other hugs, sometimes held hands whenever Josuke needed it, and basically cuddled when they slept in the same bed. It would need to be addressed at some point, but not when things were too shaky. Confessions can come later.

Oku got home and immediately set to work; feeding his dad and Stray Cat, packing some clothes so he’d have something to change into in the morning. He was about 15 minutes into his chores when his text alert chirped:

J☮♡: I’m struggling

J☮♡: I can’t empty my stupid head long enough to thing about literally anything else

You: youre doing good though

You: do something thats mindless, like a game. U got 40 mins left, u got this

J☮♡: I’ll try.

He did his best to be encouraging, and hoped that it would be enough for now. Finished with slinging clean clothes into a duffel bag, Oku dug through a shopping bag that had been laying by his shitty desk. Writing really did help him sort his brain out, so he was a frequent purchaser of notebook packs. There was one that Josuke would love: purple with gold polka dots, his aesthetic. But when that bad lad was cracked open, Okuyasu saw that the first page was adorned with hearts containing his and Josuke’s initials. He let out a ‘REEEEEEEEE’ before throwing it away from him as hard as he could.

Perhaps Josuke would prefer the cerulean with mint colored triangles on the front instead.

He went fishing in the bag again, this time finding a cute star keychain. Before Kira sent everything to hell, Okuyasu had every intention to give Josuke his other set of house keys, in case anything were to ever happen to him. Oku stared at the little star. He bought it because Josuke was his star and—oh god maybe now is not the time to think about how gay you are for your best friend—before clipping it onto the spare set he had laying on his desk. Better late than never.

With a few minutes to spare, he returned to Josuke’s house. “I’m baaack, Josuke!” A walrus groan from the family room answered him. He found a white-knuckled, pale Josuke sitting on the floor playing Animal Crossing: City Folk. Back when Josuke first bought it, Okuyasu teased him mercilessly before getting sucked into how damn chill it was. “Did you make a new town?”

Josuke visible relaxed when Okuyasu plopped down beside him, “Nah, don’t worry about your little dude. Deleted my villager and made a new one.”

Okuyasu stretched out on his stomach, propped his head up with a pilfered pillow from the couch. “Was it helping?” he yawned.

It took Josuke a few seconds to answer; a fish was refusing to be caught and it was taking his concentration, “Hm? Oh, uh, yeah actually. It was working before ya ugly mug showed back up.”

“Shut up, we both know I’m the sexy one in this friendship. I got bitches swarming my dick. Gotta beat ‘em off.” A bold faced lie if there ever was one.

Josuke snorted, “Phrasing.” He playfully knocked into Oku’s shoulder, “You are pretty sexy, dude.” Okuyasu pretended his face wasn’t the same red as the roof of Josuke’s Animal Crossing house.

They bantered back and forth for a while; Josuke offered up control of the Wiimote, but Oku enjoyed watching him play. “Oh yeah, before I forget,” Okuyasu dug into his duffel bag, pulling out the notebook and keys, “Here.” Josuke took them, an eyebrow arched. Oku felt self-conscious, but he soldiered on, “When I got something pretty to write in, it makes it easier for me to do it. That’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid.” Josuke flipped the notebook front and back, “This is cute, I’ll definitely have to use it. You got good taste.”

“Hell yeah I do.” You don’t even know the half of it. He cleared his throat, time for the embarrassing part, “And those keys are my spare set. You know I could sleep through a hurricane, so if ya ever have a nightmare, you can come wake my dumb ass up and we’ll go take a walk, or something. No matter how late. I was gonna give ‘em to ya before…W-well now seems like a good time anyways.” He wanted his dumb mouth fuck off for good.

Josuke traced a finger over the star keychain before choking out, “Thanks dude. I appreciate it.”

Okuyasu gripped him in a strong one-armed hug, “S’no problem. What I’m here for. Now that’s outta the way, lemme beat your ass in Smash before dinner.”

They played a couple rounds of Smash. Josuke did okay, which he seemed relieved about. He was also boastful, because he managed to beat Oku a few times. Okuyasu was just glad they were playing. After dinner, they ended up watching some dumbass movies before stumping back up to Josuke’s room to pass out. Josuke was already settled into bed, half-asleep when Oku came back from the shower. Unsure if Josuke wanted him in the bed with him, Okuyasu tried to quietly move around the room to pick up his faithful childhood friend, a stuffed cat named Mr. Whiskers (Josuke never teased him for it, which he thanked God for every day). While he was facing the wall, Josuke reached behind him and patted the bed. It was a gesture to let Okuyasu know he was welcome. Oku turned off the lamp beside the bed, and crawled under the covers. Josuke’s full-sized bed groaned underneath him as he settled down. “G’night bro.” He got a grunt in response.

Maybe thirty minutes passed, “Hey Oku.” Josuke whispered, voice drowsy.

“Hm?”

“Thanks for everything. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit. I’m lucky to have you.”

Okuyasu had never been so thankful for darkness in all his life. It did a good job of hiding the tears streaming down his face. Josuke really did do his damnedest to shine a light on his dark feelings. He managed to reply, a lump in his throat, “Don’t mention it. Now get some sleep. You’ll wake me up if you have a nightmare, right?”

“Mm.”

“Promise?”

“Mm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Mm.”

“Night, bro.”

He didn’t even get a response to the last one. Sleep took him a few minutes later too.

Josuke did end up having a nightmare that night, but kept his word and woke up Oku. They ended up sneaking out and walking around the neighborhood at 2 o’clock in the morning, chainsmoking. Okuyasu had an arrangement with the night clerk at the gas station, he got cigarettes and cheap beer if he slid some extra cash across the counter.

They ended up on the roof of Josuke’s house, sharing a six-pack, and stayed up there until dawn. It would have been the most romantic thing that had ever happened to Oku, if the circumstances were different.

If you asked Okuyasu, if he had to pick between sunrises and sunsets which he would choose, he would remember that morning, as he held Josuke’s hand while watching the sun peak up over the horizon.

Josuke had that intractable Joestar will. He never backed down once he had his mind set on something, no matter how big or small. Sometimes to his detriment, but mostly it worked out for him. It used to blow Okuyasu’s mind how dedicated and goddamn stubborn his friend could be.

He needed that attitude.

Progress was very slow. In the beginning, Josuke had more bad days than good. After a couple of weeks, with the start of school looming over them, he was impatient.

“I thought this was supposed to fix it??” Josuke stubbed out the remnants of his cigarette and paced around on Okuyasu’s back porch. It faced away from Josuke’s house and had trees blocking the view in the back, so they hung out back there when they were smoking and drinking like the rebellious teens they were.

Okuyasu tutted at him from in behind his cigarette; he took a drag, held it for a few seconds then blew it out, “I told you, it wouldn’t be overnight. It takes a lot of time and patience. You just have to keep at it and give it time.” He flicked the ash off the end, then frowned as he brushed more ash off of his shorts.

Josuke groaned, “I know, it just sucks.” He plucked another cigarette out of the box, and held it out for Oku to light it. He wasn’t fond of fire near his face anymore. Okuyasu obliged, and Josuke held up his cigarette in thanks before taking a puff. “By the way, I texted Koichi this morning and asked if he wanted to hang, which he does. So we’re doing that today, if you’re down.”

“Fuck yeah I am, but you gonna be good for it?”

“I’m gonna try.”

That’s all anyone could ask for. Hanging out with Koichi went well. The little man seemed immensely relieved that he got to see his best buds, “I’ve been swamped with summer classes, but I’ve missed you guys! We should hangout more before school starts back up for real.”

Okuyasu gave Koichi a noogie while Josuke snorted, “Missed you too dude. Come on, let’s get ice cream.”

They did get some hangout time in before classes started up again. Okuyasu had been nervous for Josuke, hoping that he was ready for the routine of school. But, things were only moderately rocky. He didn’t have much to fear, but god, did he still worry like a mother hen.

With a lot of work, Josuke got used to being separated from Oku. It started at an hour, but slowly built up over time. Two hours every day for a week, three the next, four, five, on and on until they hit about 12 hours. Now Okuyasu could sleep in his house again, though he still spent the night four days out of the week at Josuke’s.

Over time, they figured out more things that would trigger Josuke. The sight of blood made him ill. He couldn’t watch fireworks unless he was far enough away that he didn’t hear the noise. Thunderstorms too, which was figured out the hard way.

During the first thunderstorm since the Kira shit, Okuyasu was sleeping in his room and woke up in the middle of the night to find a sopping wet Josuke standing over him, face pale and eyes wide. It scared the shit out of him; Oku fell out of bed with a shriek, naked as the day he was born, “DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!” Josuke opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Oku scrambled for his sweatpants, rolling around trying to get them on. The Hand hovered beside him. He wanted to throw up, if he hadn’t been too surprised to properly react, Josuke would be dead.

He took a few deep breaths while lying on the ground, focusing on how cold the wood felt on his back, and willed The Hand away. When he got his bearings, Okuyasu stood up and clicked on the lamp on his nightstand, still shaky.

Josuke looked at him with tears in his eyes, “S-sorry.”

“It’s fine, you just—I just freak a little when I get surprised awake sometimes,” he was willing to talk about that, just not at the moment, “Come on, let’s get you changed.” Josuke stripped down to his boxer briefs; Okuyasu handed him a pair of basketball shorts and tank top that Josuke had left there before, staring at a particularly interesting stain on his hardwood floor.

Josuke sat on the edge of the bed while Oku kneeled in behind him, quickly braiding his hair before tapping him on the shoulder to get him to lay down. Josuke did as he was directed, Oku leaned over to turn off the light before plopping beside Josuke. Every time it thundered and lighting streaked across the sky, he flinched and made a horrible choking sound; Oku rubbed his back and wiped his tears away. They laid there quietly for hours, until the rumblings of thunder were far away. “Sorry,” Josuke croaked.

“S’fine. Did you tell your mom you’re here?”

“…Shit” he sniffed.

Oku groped for his phone, then shot off a text to Tomoko:

You: lettin u kno that josuke is at my house

You: please dont get mad

He placed his phone back on the nightstand. Josuke had his face pressed into Oku’s bare shoulder, eyes closed. The teen was unsure if he was out, so he just adjusted the covers over them and let himself sleep.

Josuke said he felt like an utter dick when they woke up the next morning. Oku waved him down, it was fine. No need to be upset. They laid in the bed, sunlight streaming through the blinds.

Josuke was chewing on his bottom lip, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Immediately, Okuyasu started getting that sick, creeping feeling, “Shoot.”

“Last night, you—you summoned The Hand when I woke you up. Why?”

Oh god, this conversation. Okuyasu steeled himself, “It was unconscious. I…okay sometimes when I get scared awake, I’m ready to start kicking ass.”

Josuke raised an eyebrow; Oku went red in the face, embarrassed, “I mean, like. Defend myself? That’s probably a better way to put it.”

“I’ve never seen you do that.”

“Because I make it a point to wake up before you do,” Okuyasu pointed out, “When have you ever had to wake me up?”

Josuke considered this carefully before responding, “That’s true. I don’t think I ever have…So why do you feel like that? Like you gotta defend yourself from someone shaking you awake?”

This was happening. Okuyasu rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, “Dad used to wake us up in the middle of the night to smack us around.” Okuyasu shrugged, “It’s been about 10 years, but I still feel like I’m gonna wake up to a fist.”

He glanced over at Josuke, nervous. His friend looked sick, and pulled Oku into his arms, “You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so fucking sorry.” Yep, there came the tears. It was so tender, it made Oku’s stomach roil. He would allow himself to be comforted this one time.

After that, the conversations stopped being just about Josuke, but also about Okuyasu.

Inventory of his scars was taken:

The ones on his back? Some were from the time he fell ass-backwards onto some broken glass after he and Keicho broke into some store. It had been Keicho’s idea, he made sure to stress. Others were from the time he fell off a cliff and into a briar patch while riding a bike at the age of 8. Keicho was picking out thorns for hours afterwards.

Scar on the left side of his rib cage? He got shanked during a fight when he was 14.

The scars on his hands and legs? Also from fights, and being a damn fool as a child.

The weird collection of bumps on his right pec? A mixture of chicken pox scars and that one time he cooked bacon while shirtless. The scars from grease were only a year old.

The puncture looking one on his left foot? Stepped on a nail in their old house before moving to Morioh.

The ones on his face? Bad Company. Two paratroopers had cut his face while repelling out of a helicopter. Keicho did it so Okuyasu would summon The Hand in order to defend himself. The blood loss freaked Keicho out enough to drag him to their neighbor’s house, who had been a mob doctor. He stitched Okuyasu up as best as he could; Keicho never used his stand on him again until the arrival of Josuke.

Okuyasu talked about how he missed who Keicho used to be, before he became obsessed with the arrow and so angry; when he would read Oku stories and help him with homework. About how he had forgiven his father and was able to take care of him, despite everything that fucking bastard put him through. How he missed his mother, a woman he vaguely remembered only when looking at pictures.

He talked about how he felt safe.

Days stretched into weeks. Weeks became months. Holidays and birthdays came and went; both boys were now 17. Before they realized it, a year had passed and summer came again. At the end of the summer break, they would be quickly approaching their final year of high school.

Josuke had more good days than bad now. He was back to hanging out with Koichi, doing his pomp, staying on top of his homework. He still saw the psychiatrist, it actually did help a little bit. “Living is still a work in process, but hey, I’m functioning today. That’s a win right?” he’d say with confidence. Okuyasu was elated to the point of weeping (which he did, when he wasn’t in Josuke’s presence).

Storms still were Josuke’s wild card trigger, since you could never really prevent that. One night, there was a particularly nasty thunderstorm. Josuke was staying over; Tomoko had a hot date that night (“GET IT, MS. H!” Okuyasu had hollered when she waved goodbye. Josuke looked like he wanted to die). They had managed to move from sitting on Oku’s bed to sitting on the back porch, watching the rain pour. The power had been knocked out, but they had their traditional six-pack and box of cigarettes between them, so things were mostly gravy.

To his credit, Josuke merely flinched and scrabbled for Oku’s hand when lightning shot across the sky followed by a rumble of thunder.

“If you need a break, we can go inside.”

“Nah, I’m okay…just hold my hand.”

They drank and laughed, curled up in blankets. Pleasantly warm from each other’s company and the shitty beer Okuyasu managed to get his hands on.

Around 1 in the morning, the rain petered out, the clouds moving on to piss all over somewhere else.

“How you doing?” Okuyasu asked.

“I’m golden, my dude.” Josuke squeezed his hand, ”Hey, look, you can see all the stars.”

It was true, all the lights being kaput cleared up the night sky. Okuyasu could see the Milky Way.

“S’beautiful.”

“Yeah…” Josuke seemed to be deep in thought.

“Got something on your mind dude?” Oku asked after awhile, taking a sip from his beer.

Josuke seemed to be choosing his words carefully, “Can I be honest about something?”

“Go for it.”

His friend was squirming uncomfortably. Oh no. “So like,” Josuke began “There’s still something I haven’t told you.”

Oh no. “What is it?” Oku was starting to get heart palpitations.

“I’m in love with someone.”

To his surprise, Oku managed to choke out, “Oh, who is it?” He felt like he was on the verge of tears, but kept it together. He knew in his heart of hearts it wasn’t him.

It took Josuke a few minutes to answer, “You know him—“

“Oh goddamnit, tell me it’s not Koichi—“

“No! What??”

“Mikitaka??”

“No!! Let me fin—“

“OR ROHAN, THAT WOULD BE THE LITERAL WORST THING EVER—“

“For god’s sake!!! No!! I’d rather die!!! Just. Let me finish.” Josuke sounded peeved. Okuyasu forced himself to go quiet. With a sigh, and a soft clink, he sat his beer can down, “You know him, but maybe not as well as you think you do.”

“Josuke,” Okuyasu’s voice was strained, “You just gotta come out and say it. I’m too stupid for this. You gotta tell me.” He was heartbroken, but he did his best to keep it out of his voice. He failed. “You just gotta get it over with.”

Josuke said nothing for a moment. Instead, he got up on his knees, leaned over to Okuyasu, and kissed him square on the lips. It was soft and tender, and—oh god, there’s the tears.

Feeling his wet tears, Josuke started panicking, pulling away, “Oh shit dude, are you okay? Did I upset you??” Hesitantly, he wiped Oku’s tears away.

Okuyasu shook his head, “No, I’m okay….can you kiss me again? Please?” Josuke nodded, giving him sweet, chaste kisses on lips, cheeks, forehead, and chin.

It took some effort, but Oku calmed down enough to ask, “Why me?”

“Whaddya mean ‘why me’? How could it not be you?” Josuke sounded genuinely confused.

“You’re literally the hottest guy in Morioh! You could have literally anyone else, so why choose the stupid looking fucko who’s dumb as a bag of hammers?”

Josuke held Oku’s face in his hands, “Because you are none of those. You’ve been here with me for the roughest fucking parts of my life. You are so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. Not to mention, you’re the funniest person I’ve ever met. Every time you hug me, or hold my hand, I just wanna kiss you all over. Dude,” Josuke squeezed his cheeks gently for emphasis, “Your smile is like the sun, and all I wanna do is bask in it like a dumb ass sunflower.”

The tears started up again, but Okuyasu got himself under control enough to kiss Josuke on the mouth, “I love you too. I’ve been after you like some lovestarved idiot forever.”

“Why not tell me??”

“Same reasons you never told me, I guess.”

Josuke brushed the tears off Oku’s face, “So, you wanna be my boyfriend.” For his trouble, he got tackled to the ground, and sloppy, inexperienced kisses all over his face. “Agh! I guess that’s yes?”

Oku buried his bright red face into Josuke’s neck, “You fuckin’ know it is.”

They cuddled for real that night, getting used to kissing each other. The next day was rather comical, as no one was surprised at this development.

“What do you MEAN you’re not surprised by us??” Josuke howled, shaking his and Okuyasu’s clasped hands for emphasis. They were sitting in front of the ice cream parlor; Koichi was counting a fat stack of yen from the apparent bets that everyone from school made on their relationship.

“Josuke,” Koichi said seriously, “Literally everyone knew. You were only oblivious to each other.” He patted Josuke’s shoulder, “I am happy for you guys though, you finally figured it out. Ice cream’s on me.”

Everyone else’s reaction was more or less the same. Yuuya was the only one remotely shocked, “Thought you guys had been together from the get-go.”

Tomoko was happy, kissing both boys on the cheek, “Finally, one of you had the sense to say something. It was driving me up the wall.”

“Thanks mom.” Josuke grumbled.

That evening, they were back on Josuke’s roof, watching the sunset.

“Hey,” Okuyasu said, pulling Josuke’s face close, “I love you jerkass.”

Josuke gave him a smooch, “Love you too dickhead.”

“Asshole”

“Shitweasel”

If you asked Okuyasu when he knew he’d want to spend the rest of his life with Josuke ‘Sexy Ass Looking Rat Bastard’ Higashikata, his answer would be when they sat on his roof, trading insults in between kisses until Tomoko hollered at them to get down, please.

If Okuyasu was the Sun, then Josuke was the Moon, the Stars and everything in between. Finally, Okuyasu felt like he truly mattered to someone. All it took was meeting the love of his life by punching him in the face.

But that’s how it goes sometimes.

#jjba #josuyasu #josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura #josuke x okuyasu

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