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1kook · 5 years ago

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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dolliedarlin · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I’m one of the anons who’s obsessing over the P.A series!!!!! For some reason my brain has been full w diff things that could happen IDKKK! Hope u don’t mind if I dump a few....

TW: this is A bunch of rambling and some grammar errors LMAO sorry

Idk y I c y/n having a stalker💀 this prob sounds rlly weird but hear me out. (To add drama, also I Lowkey wanna c Mina,Sero and kiri get mad idk y-)

Since we all know y/n is the baddest most sophisticated b*tch (sorry idk if I’m allowed to cuss or not LMAO) her Ex lover is still obsessed w her and thinks that they are soulmate even tho they obv aren’t. I feel like y/n knows he stalks her but she ignores it until it gets worst. Like he found out where she lives. (He finds out where she lives while she’s sick which is now loll)

Anyways I feel like Mina would be over at y/ns place and since she’s getting better they are In her living room talking abt who knows what and y/n gets a knock on her door she goes to open it and admittedly closes it looking shocked. Mina being a pro hero is supposed to be able to read body language. Mina ask her if everything is Alr and y/n OFC (stupid a**) says yes. Mina didn’t want to keep pressing the issue so she dropped it until it became a reoccurring thing with y/n and it’s not just her that noticed. She (y/n) is extremely hesitant to open the door and when she does she opens it a little bit. (And then idk her EX does crazy like breaks into her apt and scares the sh** outa y/n) THIS IS WHERE MY BIG IDEA STOPS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that was a lotta rambling my apologies

Have a great day dollie!

oh no! please don’t feel bad, it’s always fun for me seeing what you dolls would want to happen next

although i don’t plan on bringing any psycho exes into ‘the p.a’ series, as a writer and an avid daydreamer, i can’t help but play around with this idea

warning: there are brief mentions of violence ; this is not a part of ‘the p.a’ series but is just a little thought that i just couldn’t help but try my own hand at also ; i didn’t edit this either 😂 so kindly forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes

continuing on from your idea...

⏤mina, having the sneaking suspicion that something bad might happen to you that night, notifies the rest of the group later on that day

⏤usually, bakugou was in charge of you during the night and always sat in a chair beside your bed on high alert, ready to serve your every need...

⏤BUT!

⏤now that mina told them about your suspicious behaviour, all of them were put on high alert.

⏤they all agreed to keep you unaware of their intentions by having bakugou take care of you like usual but they made sure that when on the night patrol, they were close by with their radios on and constantly being hyper aware of the shortest route to your residence from wherever they were situated - just in case of an emergency

⏤naturally, they trusted bakugou with keeping you safe but that didn’t mean that they had no worries for you at all

⏤seeing as you usually feel asleep before bakugou switched with the sero, who took care of you in the late evening, you were under the impression that you were alone at home

⏤your current condition disallowed you from comfortably staying awake so you were constantly tossing and turning in bed, brows furrowed and sweating more than usual

⏤”what is she dreaming about?” bakugou utters in frustration as he continues to wipe away the vastly accumulating sweat rom your wrinkled brows

⏤he wasn’t frustrated at you no no, he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t make you comfortable no matter how many wet towels he uses to cook your forehead or wipe your sweat clean off your skin

⏤as the night progresses, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, far too exhausted to continue stressing over your ex with the added burden of your fever on your body

⏤nevertheless, bakugou continues being on high alert at all times except for when he momentarily leaves to room so as to go to the toilet

⏤this was the perfect opportunity for your crazy ex to sneak into your room via the window bakugou left ajar so as to help cool you down better

⏤your ex was a creepy and disgusting man - someone that you had grown to dislike the more you got to know him and naturally left as quickly as you were able to

⏤what followed was harassment to the highest degree, thankfully you were able to protect yourself due to your self defence training and quirk, however, it didn’t take away the shuddering feeling of being watched constantly

⏤you grew paranoid and extremely fidgety over time and eventually filled for a restraining order. unfortunately, that didn’t work and left you to deal with the situation yourself

⏤you were naive enough to think that you had shaken him after a particularly horrible beating he took from you in self defence. he had come at you with a knife but you were able to disarm him and send him limping home with a dislocated arm, a black eye and a bruised ribcage

⏤over time, you got busy with work and slowly forgot about him, it wasn’t until today that you were reminded of his crazy obsession with you and were thrown into a panic

⏤believing that you were alone at night and in your most vulnerable state, you didn’t feel safe and sought to deal with the situation however you could, even in your dreams

⏤all attempts were in vain, however

⏤bakugou, returning from his momentary break to the toilet came back just in time to see your creepy ex hovering over your sleeping figure. as if you sensed the unpleasant existence stalking you, your body stiffened under the blankets and you began to breathe uncomfortably, beginning to sweat bucket-fulls once more

⏤not wanting to disturb your sleep as rest was the top priority for you, bakugou crept up from behind the unknown figure and instantly went for his neck, choking him into silence as he dragged his thrashing figure outside, far away from you all the while sending a emergency signal to the rest of the squad

⏤in no time at all, the rest of the squad arrived and had your crazy ex cornered. at this time he had already been tied up by bakugou and was ready for a quick chat

⏤”what the hell were you doing with our yn?” kirishima began, sharp teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw

⏤silence

⏤”speak up, we can’t fucking hear you,” bakugou spat as the others glared on from beside him, their eyes piercing through the moonlight and darkness of the night

⏤”y-yn isn’t yours - that’s the first thing,” your ex finally cracked, giggling creepily in between

⏤”you’re right,” sero began, “yn doesn’t belong to anyone so why were did you break into her house,” it took everything in sero not to lash out but they needed answers

⏤”wrong again!” your ex sang, “she doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to me! i’m her boyfriend!”

⏤”yn doesn’t have a boyfriend,” kaminari spoke up

⏤”that’s right! and if she did, we would have known,” mina agreed

⏤“that’s because she doesn’t know it yet, we broke up but we’ll get back together again soon” the tied up man giggled to himself, “it’s only a matter of time before she realises her mistake and she comes back to me,”

⏤the team of heroes didn’t know what to say, they were so shocked and appalled at what they were seeing and hearing that they couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single word of response, they only listened further

⏤”i hoped she’d come back soon, anyway...but i was getting impatient so i had to try and convince her a little more. she’s been ignoring my love for her all this time, she can’t continue rejecting me for long...” he laughs, “i bet she misses it”

⏤��miss what...?” bakugou didn’t want to know but it had to be said

⏤”i bet she misses being with me. she’s so beautiful and so soft to the touch, she always smells good too and she has such a lovely voice - i want her all to myself, she doesn’t deserve to be anybody else’s”

⏤it was then that the team of heroes just about lost their minds. the creep before them didn’t say anything explicit but the madness in his eyes and the harrowing smile he was displaying was off putting. they dread to imagine what a lowlife nasty sob like him put you through but they saw flashes of unforgivable scenes that sent all of them into insanity

⏤someone so precious to them didn’t deserve any such treatment. you may not have disclosed anything to them strict on being professional but if this man was willing to break into your house...they were fearful to think about what else he was capable of

⏤he deserved a beating from that act alone, actually, and a beating he got

⏤they could’ve killed the guy - they were more than tempted to and it would have been so easy...but he deserved to suffer in jail for his crimes against you so they held back no matter how painful that was for them

⏤the very next day, under their authority and recommendation, the man was locked up for as many years as they could tally up and seeing as they were heroes, they were able to look into his past documentations and found you had filed a restraining order for him under harassment, assault and a number of other things they grew all the more furious at the more the read

⏤they would prefer it if you didn’t realise what they did that night but the media couldn’t let the story of 5 high class pro heroes sending a singular, beaten man to jail for life

⏤your creepy ex’s battered photos were all over the news and you were so incredibly grateful

#love; dollie #precious anon #not part of the pa series #just a little imagining #this was fun

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sunaswife · 5 years ago

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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖎𝖒

Shigaraki X f! Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, brainwashed/ programmed reader, implied kidnapping, Dom/sub, use of the word ‘pet’ and ‘master’, first time sex, uh..does this count as yandere..? Idk lol

🔪: this is like my second time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad 🙇‍♀️ plz don’t spank me. N E Wayz I dedicate this fic to @aoi-turtle 🖤 and Any other shiggy whores out there

Edit: I FORGOT TO TAG @dinablossom and @toworuu IM SO SORRY BSVAKAGSJA

Summary: Imagine being programmed to be the leagues healer but also Shigaraki’s little cum bucket

♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎

“Master what is the meaning of this.” Shigaraki looked at the television screen as he scratched his neck. “I took her quirk and made it a thousand times better.” He said simply. “Tomura shigaraki where should I place her?” Kurogiri asked. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just don’t understand why you brought a stupid hero here.” He said annoyed.

“Now now—“ “Shut up and put her somewhere out of my sight!” Tomura demanded and Kurogiri sighed and carried your body to the spare room by shigaraki’s private quarters. You looked dead, you were exhausted, traumatized, in shock.

You were frozen. Your eyes stayed open, unblinking as you stared at the ceiling. It looked as if you were dead. But your body is warm and you were breathing, you’re alive and you’ll recover quick. Thanks to the quirk All for One fixed for you.

Dabi smirked at your ruined form. Spinner hid his rosy cheeks, you were a cute one. Toga was excited to have another girl in the league she talked with Twice about all the fun things you two could do together. Whether it be painting your nails, doing your hair, torturing someone, or making them bleed. She was excited.

“What’s so good about her quirk that you needed it.” Shigaraki asked. “It’s come to my attention that the league has been missing an important puzzle piece.” He started off. “Yeah? What’s that?” The light blue haired man asked. He was beyond ticked off to have a hero here. “She’s not a hero. She was training under UA’s school nurse. But she fell into the hero course for recovery and first aid training.” He said and everyone stayed silent and patiently listened to the brain behind the league.

“Her quirk is pyrokinetic regeneration. She manipulates fire with the energy of the person who needs healing and together she heals with so called fire. Her quirk was small, only a few cuts a bruises here and there could she heal. But I added cell regeneration so she can even fix up deep wounds that could need surgery in a matter of days instead of months.”

“Sounds amazing! No she could use her fire against us!” Twice said and Toga nodded. “She won’t. Her fire doesn’t burn unless you’re hurt.” Kurogiri returned. “But she’s still a hero brat so wouldn’t she try to resist?” Dabi asked. “I don’t know but let me try and see!” Toga giggled and pulled out a knife she easily slit her wrist and skipped her way to your new room.

Out of curiosity the other members followed suit. Shigaraki first, he wanted to see if you were truly useful if not then he’d disintegrate you right here and now. “Hi hi new friend! My name is Toga!” The psychotic girl giggle as her blood dripped all over the floor. You looked up slowly from your spot on the bed. “H-hi...T-toga..” your voice was low. “Kurogiri Can you bring her some water?” Toga asked and he left and came back in the blink of an eye.

Your hands were shaking for the cup of water but Toga held it back, away from you. “If you want the water then heal my wrist first.” She said sweetly with a giggle. “Heal your wrist?” You whispered and she nodded. “O-okay..” you stuttered and you slowly removed the blanket from your lap. You stood up with wobbly legs to go to the girl but you fell. The chain on your ankle pulled you back. You winced and looked at her, pleading for her to come to you. She asked if you were okay and when you responded she shoved her bloody arm to your face. “Take a deep breath. This may sting...” you started and a small green flame came upon your hand. You rubbed the flame over both of your hands like you were putting on lotion, finally when the flames covered both hands you pressed hard on her wrist. She winced, “ow ow ow.” She whimpered, you removed your hands and everyone stared at the flame around her whole wrist. “Give it thirty seconds....or not...” you said as you stared wide eyed at her already healed cut. It was barley a touch and it’s gone now. “Wow. No scar!” She giggled and turned to show the guys. “Wow stab me next, please don’t or else I’ll bite ya!” Twice said and you reached for the water. “Interesting.” Shigaraki mumbled with a small squint. Kurogiri looked over and hoped he wouldn’t do anything bad to you.

“Shows over. She needs her rest.” Kurogiri said and everyone left one by one. Toga gave her a hug and wished for you both to be the best of friends and she skipped away. “Tomura Shigaraki. What are you thinking?” Kurogiri asked as Shigaraki began to walk into your room. “Nothing that concerns you.” He spat and slammed the door. Kurogiri sighed but returned to the bar nonetheless.

“Do you know who I am?” Shigaraki asked, “Yes you’re the leader of the league of villains, You’re name is Tomura Shigaraki and your quirk is decay—“ “that’s enough!” He raised his voice and looked at you with wide eyes.

You looked so sad and you glanced down at your cup. “Mr. shigaraki I know I don’t usually talk this much. I’ve always been the quiet type. I think whoever kidnapped me gave me a huge sense of knowledge. I know the league is bad but I don’t care about the heroes anymore and I don’t know why. I know everything about you guys, your true identity, your quirks, your past. And when I see you I—“ you quickly stopped yourself.

Shigaraki raised a brow. “You what?” He asked curiously. “N-nothing. Just forget it.” You answered and he growled. “Answer me now before I kill you.” He said and your legs subconsciously clenched together. You stayed quiet and your chest rose and fell a little more quickly. Why was this feeling in your chest when this killer, this man child looked at you? What exactly did the man he calls master do to you?

Before you knew it he gripped your chin and lifted it harshly so you could look at his wrinkly red eyes. Even though he looks like a bum he smelled nice and clean. A hand was covering his face and you slowly lifted your hand to touch it and his other hand grabbed your wrist. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish you fucking idiot?” He growled and you gulped. “C-can i see your face?” You asked and he tilted his head confused.

“No. Answer my question-“ before you both knew it, as if your body had a mind of its own you tackled shigaraki down and you snatched the hand off his face. His hand quickly wrapped around your neck and arm and you pressed your lips against his. He halted his finger from pressing against your neck. He was beyond confused.

“If only tomura finished listening to what i had to say.” All for one chuckled loudly. You both were able to faintly hear the television from down the hall. “He would know that I managed to change y/N’s desires and whole way of thinking. She’s now with the league of Villains and she’s in love with its leader, Tomura Shigaraki. Consider it a present and motivation for the future of the league.” You both heard and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” You said lowly. He stood there stunned and silent.

He slowly sat up and looked at your figure. “So you were brainwashed like my Nomu.” He hummed and took a few steps back. He noticed how you crawled closer to him but the chain was keeping you away.

“Who do you love?”

“You.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who’s your master?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

You said and he smirked. He was gonna have fun with you. “At least master was kind enough to give me a beauty.” He said as he held on to the chains. “Don’t freak out.” He warned and you nodded. He disintegrated the chain around your ankle and he pulled you by the arm. You were wearing an ugly hospital gown and you were barefoot. You couldn’t help but shiver. He went next door to his room and he shoved you in and slammed the door. You nearly tripped over the mess and you turned to look at shiggy. “Why are you just standing there?” He asked, “You haven’t given me orders.” You deadpanned. “You can’t think for yourself?” He questioned. “No i can but I Don’t want to upset you.” You replied.

“Fine then clean this shit up.” He referred to his very very messy room. You nodded and began to lift up a piece of trash but he pulled you away. “Change first.” He said and handed you a black hoodie. “Do you have a bathroom?” You asked. “No change here.” He said and you nodded. You turned so your back was facing him and carefully began to take off the gown, leaving you completely bare and Shigaraki couldn’t help but look.

Your skin was so beautiful and looked so soft. He saw as you carefully put on his hoodie and it completely engulfed you. It reached to your mid thigh. You slowly turned to look at him with rosy cheeks. The hoodie smelled just like him. “Tomura—“ “It’s master to you.” He Interrupted and you nodded, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together once more. “Sorry...m-master.” You said and played with the hem of his hoodie.

“Master..can I have some underwear too...? I feel weird, when I’m bare underneath..” you asked. “No, continue cleaning my room.” He answered coldly and sat on his gaming chair. He turned on his console and began playing whatever game he had.

You sighed and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous yet scarred face and his beautiful long fingers. In an instant he can kill you, but if you’re good..then he might even reward you. If you were to die, I’d rather be in the hands of your master than anyone else.

You quickly began you pick up the instant ramen bowls and bags of chips. You separated recycling and trash. You even managed to pick up all his dirty clothes and put it in the hamper in less than an hour. Tomura was stunned, one minute he can barley walk in, the next It’s almost spotless. He saw you from the corner of his eye, you were folding his clothes that practically had the same color scheme.

“Can i go through your drawers to put your clothes away..?” You finally spoke up. “Yeah it’s whatever. I don’t care.” He mumbled and returned to the screen. “Ugh stupid game!” He huffed and began pressing the controller more furiously. You chuckled and thought that it was so cute and adorable when he was frustrated.

You went to his California king sized bed and began to fix the sheets and make his bed. Since it was so huge, you had to climb on to properly fix it. You were completely in your own world when Shigaraki turned and saw your wet cunt on display in all it’s glory. Ever since he saw you he couldn’t help but feel that urge to take you. His resistance was getting to him and now he wanted to give in to his urges even more. He was too distracted that he lost the fucking game and he growled and disintegrated the controller. That was his own form of rage quitting.

You heard his sound of frustration so when you turned you expected him to be in the same chair uttering bullshit, but you were shocked when you felt your hips being pulled back. Your cunt was touching his pants, but you can feel his bulge. “Um..master..I—“

“Shut up.” He said and reached for your neck. He pulled you back to him and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hovering your aching clit. “This is whats gonna happen.” He started off and you nodded. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to like it. Okay?”

“I understand.” You said softly, you felt his hands slowly lift up the hoodie just a bit to get a better view of your ass. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. “I know I’m probably not your dream girl but I promise to be a good girl, master..” your voice shook. He tilted his head, were you getting insecure?

“No pet, you’re perfect to me.” He assured and you could hear his belt jingle as he took it off. “You seem pretty wet already, pet. Since how long have you been like this?” He asked as he got out of his jeans. He slowly open your cheeks to reveal your little pussy clenching around nothing, how cute. “Since I saw you..” you mumbled. He smirked and leaned down. He immediately began to eat out your cunt causing you to gasp in shock and grip the sheets. Your chest layed roughly against the bed as your ass stood proud in the air for the leader of the league of villains to enjoy.

“Fuck—“ you moaned and you felt a slap on your ass. You slightly jumped released a small yelp. “Watch your language.” He growled from your pussy. “Yes master.” You whimpered and he slowly began to rub his thumb on your other hole. Your small moans filled the room and he easily slipped his middle finger in you. You squeezed around him so deliciously, he couldn’t help but wished his cock was inside.

This has never happened to him before, this feeling in his chest. Someone that loves him and will obey his every command. You’re so beautiful as well, and your sounds. Your moans and whimpers, in all honesty he jut wanted to get himself off. But after hearing you and seeing you. He wants to make sure you have pleasure as well.

He continued pumping his finger in and out of your slick walls and your voice started getting slightly higher. “Master...I—I’m gonna cum...”you panted and your toes began to curl. “It’s okay, cum for me, pet. You’ve been a good girl.” He said softly and he felt you clench around his finger. When you came he slowly removed his finger and examined it. You must be new to is if you could get off with just one of his long fingers.

You layed on the bed a bit tired, not paying attention to your master who had tasted your cum on his finger. It was delicious and he wanted another taste. When you felt a lick on your cunt again you immediately shivered and clenched your thighs. “Hold still I just wanna taste some cum.” Shigaraki huffed and he pulled your thighs apart. You were pretty sensitive but you obeyed nonetheless.

You moans began to fill the room once more and before you could finish and cum again he pulled away. You automatically whimpered and turned to give your master puppy dog eyes. “I would let you cum again, but my cock is so fucking hard I don’t think I can wait another minute.” he said and began to pull down his boxers.

Before you could get back in position, which freaking hurt, he flipped you over on your back and you made a small oof noise. You looked up to See shigaraki focused on his cock, he was rubbing himself up and down your slit to use your cum as lube. “Alright I’m going in.” He announced and slowly pushed his rather large member inside your tint cunt. You immediately yelped and held on to his biceps. “M-master wait—it hurts..” you pleaded and Tomura finally looked up at your face.

He loves inflicting pain, he loves watching people’s painful expressions when they’re hurt or when they’re gonna die. Chisaki’s face was so amusing. But when he saw yours, his heart shattered and he didn’t want to hurt you at all. You’ve been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t want to hurt his little toy. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “it’s okay..” you sniffled. After a minute of him being patient you gave him a nod and he continued to slowly bottom out.

You both released a moan when he was all the way in. You both have never felt anything like this before. “Can I start moving?” Shigaraki asked you as he brushed way the hair from your face. You nodded and he pulled almost all the way out and he slammed back in. Your little gasps and moans came back which made shigaraki feel at ease. You can clearly hear your slick with every thrust and it was music to his ears.

“I’ve been neglecting these.” He grunted and lifted his hoodie over your chest. Finally he was able to see your beautiful soft breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He moaned and immediately lowered his mouth to one of your nipples. You squealed and your back arched and he pushed you down. “Master...” you moaned softly. His tongue swirled around your hardened bud and your fingers tangled in his light blue hair. Two of his fingers pinched your other nipple and he lightly bit the nipple in his mouth.

“I think I-I’m close—“ you gasped and he removed his mouth. His thrusts decreased in speed but they became harder. He had a stupid smirk on his face and your eyes widened when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Hold it until I say so.” He demanded and you muttered a weak yes. He felt how your gummy walls squeezed against his large dick, he was getting close too. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He groaned with his head tilted back and your mouth watered at the sight. Why is he so fucking handsome?

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax so he rubbed his thumb on you clit while increasing his pace once more, causing you to be even louder than before. Everyone in the bar could hear and a certain fire villian grumbled in annoyance. “Master I can’t hold it anymore!” You screamed. “Then cum my stupid little pet. Cum all over my cock like a good girl.” He grunted and bit his lip at the sight of your sweaty body. Your bouncing breasts, crazy hair, your adorable ahego face, your twitching legs and finally your grip on his biceps. You were so prefect and so good to him and only him.

When you came you felt his cum shoot inside you as well causing you to gasp at the delicious feeling. Tomura rested his head on your shoulder and tried catching his breath. You couldn’t help but smile and blush at the closeness. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and you gave his shoulder a kiss causing him to freeze. “I love you master, thank you for making me feel good.” You said softly. He chuckled and pulled you closer, “I love you too.”

I wanna write a part 2 of Shiggy finding out his little toy is being used by a certain fire boy 👀

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki smut #league of villains #my hero academia #yandere shigaraki #smut #[🏌️‍♀️🔪.yandere]

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writinandcrying · 5 years ago

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Should I stay or should I go?

tmnt x reader - Headcanon - PART 1

Link for part 2 - Donnie and Mikey

Pov: for external reasons ( your wifi wasn’t working, renovations in your apartment, hell, the whole building, pipe broke down you have no water for 3 days straight) you had to stay at the lair, it was all fun and games for the first 3-4 days, but routine had caught up with you and the turtles, you have never been that close to them for such long time. Which turtle wants you stay longer, and which one wants their space back?

not all turtles have a crush on y/n ( like, at the same time), but depending on which turtle you are reading, they have the crush on y/n (does that make sense? I hope it does )

Leo

🎏He wants you to stay

🎏( you thought I was going to say leave huh?)

🎏At first when you asked if you could stay some days at the lair he was a little bit... apprehensive? Not anxious per say, but definitely questionated if you would be comfortable, if your routines wouldn’t crash, could be keep up his “host” facade for that long?

🎏He was surprised how quiet you were, I mean, whenever everyone were at table for dinner or at game night you joked along, but during “normal activities” work, reading, studying, just, going through your day, you were so quiet. Did you not feel welcomed at the lair?

🎏Truth to be told you didn’t want to feel like a burden or a problem to them, you were already a new person in their space, so you just kept it to yourself. Took turns in who to ask something for if you need it, ( mostly tried to do stuff on your on) so no one would feel overwhelmed

🎏 Leo doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t belong, so whenever he makes tea, or it’s medication time at the dojo, he asks if you would like to join him, at first you thought it was just out of politeness, (and at first it was) but he insists so much that you give in, at some point you both get used to doing stuff together and like each others company

🎏 He loves his brothers? Yes. Loves spending time with them? Of course! But there are a certain amount of things that he would rather do with you, he feels... more comfortable doing so. Doesn’t feel pressured to put up the leader facade, to be serious all the time. he could be him with you, and there wasn’t many times that he could do that ( with master splinter he could, not all times tho. Lately there was so many foot activity going on that master wanted him to stay focused in almost all of their conversations ) so your hangouts were blissful to him

🎏he doesn’t even realize 4-5 days have gone by, when you finally get a call from your landlord that you can go back, he really wants to ask you to stay some more, not only he felt at ease talking to you, but he never slept better those last few days, for him, knowing that you were “under the same roof”, you were protected inside the lair, made him sleep so profoundly, it gave a sense of security he didn’t knew he craved.

🎏 he doesn’t have the heart to ask you tho. asking you to stay seems selfish of him, you have a life, you belong with the other humans out there, this last days with you made him feel so normal, but with that call it was like a bucket out cold icy water runing on this carapace, you both don’t belong in the same world, it was foolish to think anything like.. a relationship, could work between the both of you

🎏Leo gets so caught up in this intrusive ideas, he closes up. At first you think you did something wrong, everything was just fine minutes ago, but then maybe- just maybe, all of the tea you shared together, the shows you watched and the late night talks, was he just being nice? He didn’t want to spend all of that time with you, did he?

🎏 for the first time since you got in the lair, you felt bothersome, you pack your stuff fast, you don’t want to be a burden no longer, you say your thanks to his brothers and master splinter, apologize for any inconveniences, then when it comes to Leo, the air becomes heavier, it harder to read him, your throat tightens, you don’t know if you should thank or say sorry to him.

🎏 you tell him both

🎏 you walk alone through the sewer, moments before you got asked if you needed to be scorted, “it’s no problem” he assured, Leo was smiling but that were something in his eyes that made you question his words, you made your way as you declined his offer. It was easy to Make yourself believe it was the god awful smell that it was making your eyes water with tears

🎏 for the best days, Leo trained for hours, was harsher on patrol, at home, got more quiet than what he normally was. Everyone noticed, no one commented on it. He missed you, He wanted to you to back so bad, he wanted the late night talks, he endless laughter going on between both of you, but in no way he would tell you so.

🎏 if he only knew you wanted the same as him

Raph

🧨 he wants you to stay, but he also wants you to go... you should go

🧨 don’t get me wrong, he loves the first 2 days you are there, my god. He had never felt so powerful at his own home

🧨Raph LOVES spending time with you, you make him feel like the funniest guy around, likes working out with you, or you just admiring him while he works out, wink wink ;)

🧨 has a lot of pent up tension from watching you workout, or just simply having you watch him train and such ( he is a horny man don’t look at me) and he might or might not think of you a lot... in the shower.. in his bed.. in the middle of the night... He lives for the thrill of you being so near him but would actually DIE if you caught him- Well, u know. Anyways, he lives for your attention

🧨 he lives for it until he noticed how eco-y the lair was, and oh boy he needs to fart. Really Bad.

🧨the reason why raph wants you to go is because he needs to fart? Yes. let me tell you why:

🧨Raph cares a lot about his exterior, specially with his crush is around. in his mind he has a reputation to maintain with you, so yeah, he does NOT want to embarrass himself in front of you, plus he needs to work on mikeys sweater and he hasn’t shown to you that he actually knits ( and it’s very self conscious to do so, will you think less of him for having such a... homey- Grandma material, Hobby?)

🧨 so yes; Raph would rather die than to let it rip next to you, but he wants to so bad oh my GOOOOOOD ( mind you this is crush state, if it was a s/o of long time you will need to deal with the monstrosity that comes from his behind, sorry), when he realizes that farts arent the only thing that needs to be let out he lowkey starts to panic ( no, he did not take a dump while you were there, is raph one of those ppl who has a shy 🍑 when there’s new people are around? That cannot go outside his own home? You bet he is)

🧨he does feel more at peace knowing you are safe and sound while sleeping at the lair like Leo, but when you get a call that you can go back to your home, he is upset... and relieved( won’t show the latter until you are out at the door and he’s running to the bathroom)

🧨 will miss you, your sassy remarks, your ass, your company in general, but will only notice those feelings after reclaiming his space back

🧨Mind you when he left his mighty trone, shit was so clogged, Donnie wanted to kill him ( because obviously he is the one to fix everything around the lair)

🧨for his disdain, Mikey had revived a long lost forgotten nickname from old days: Shit blaster 3000

🧨 (Mikey had to hide for 2 hours from Raph trying to beat up his ass from bringing that name back - which stuck for 2 days, mainly cuz Donnie was so pissed at him he wouldn’t let it go of the name)

🧨 but hey, after that he asked you to stay over a lot more! Slowly he started to show more and more about him, ( the relief he felt when he finally showed you his knit projects and you loved it, he was holding up his breath the whole time) he also loves how more comfortable you got after staying those days with him them, so yeah, feel free to stay over a lot more!

🧨just, don’t stay for long periods of time

🧨 (for donnies sake)

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

I don’t know how I went from soft to sad Leo to sassy and fart ass raph in one Headcanon? Raph Headcanons are always so serious or u know ~sexy~, but honestly he has such comedy potential, anyways- I hope you guys enjoyed it sbfbgjkfkdks, tell me if you want me to do Donnie and mikeys!

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt babies #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #giulia writes

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square-blunt · 4 years ago

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It's honor among theives, it's all that we've got.

Just a silly little c!karlnapity fic I've been working on. It's a little out dated but yknow, it is what it is.

Tw- Major ptsd, trauma/abuse flashback, panic/anxiety attack, it's lovely for Q Wc: 1624 AO3:link

It’s early in the morning, light filtering in through the blinds, dust suspended in the air. Quackity turns over, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of sleep. The birds grow louder, as does the soft drone of life outside the walls, and he realizes his attempt to slip back into unconsciousness will be unsuccessful. He lets sleep slide from his grasp. Q sits up, and the room is a lot colder than he’d hoped. He bends sideways, feeling around for a hoodie he might have thrown on the floor last night, finds one, and tugs it over his head. There’s a knock at the far door, and he smiles as his partners walk in, padding across to him with a tray of food, very loudly- and badly- singing happy birthday. Q’s grin grows wider as he notices that he’s not wearing his own hoodie, but one that belongs to one of his boyfriends- the one who’s putting the tray down on his lap- and his other slides into bed next to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Q!!” Karl grins, handing him a napkin.

“Happy, happy,” Sapnap says, immediately cutting off a piece of pancake and shoving it in Quackity’s mouth. Q groans and playfully smacks Sapnap’s hand, and the fork, away.

“Thank you, I’m gonna be honest I was not expecting you guys to do this- I forgot about today completely, anyways.” Q, mumbling around the bite of a rather dry pancake, takes the fork and knife back from Sapnap.

“Of course we would, we fucking love you, dude.” Sapnap adjusts his position to lean back against the bed frame, steading the tray with one hand.

“I know that, dumbass, but I didn’t even ask you to do this- like I said, I forgot that today was my birthday at all.” Q fidgets with the fork.

“Well, we didn’t- Sapnap didn’t at least,” Karl says, giggling- Q loved that little laugh he does.

“You didn’t have to ask us- don’t tell me you’ve never had breakfast in bed before,” Sapnap says.

“I- no, I guess I haven’t-” Q begins.

“In all your years no one’s ever brought you breakfast in bed?” Karl asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I mean, yeah, once, but I kinda spilled it everywhere.” Quackity tries to put a lightness in his voice, but Quackity couldn’t really manage it. He did have breakfast in bed once. The reason he got it was because he couldn’t get out of bed in the first place, the night before that had been absolutely awful. Maybe the worst of his life-

“Was that when you were a kid? You got someone to do it again?” Sapnap reaches over and sneaks a piece of bacon and stuffs it in his mouth, snapping Quackity back to reality.

“Not exactly. I- I didn’t know that was something you could do when I was a kid, and, uh, y’know, there’ve been only a few people willing to do… this… for me at all anyways,” Q mumbles, passing the fork through his fingers. He hopes they don’t press any further.

“Well, had it or not, you have hardly eaten anything so hush and let me feed you.” Karl seems to have completely missed what Quackity just said, and he was relieved.

“Wait- no- Karl I wanna do that.” Sapnap grabs the fork out of Quackity’s hand again, making the coffee mug teeter. Quackity shoots out a hand to steady it.

“Hey that’s not fair you get to sit next to him I wanna do it.” Karl crawls over Quackity’s legs and reaches out for Sapnap-

“Hey- guys-” the plate is sliding around on the tray, and Quackity would very much like to not stain the sheets. Not more than they already were, at least-

“You got to bring the tray to him I wanna do it-” Sapnap rotates away, hiding the fork- and his knee pops up, flipping the tray over. Quackity holds onto the steaming hot coffee mug, so at least that didn’t burn him, but the pancakes, bacon, and eggs fly everywhere. The plate bounces off the bed and shatters on the floor, leaving a sticky circle in its wake. The three of them are silent- but Quackity’s head rings with the sound of the plate breaking. It sounds so much like glass. It sounds like glass breaking. It sounds like a bottle being thrown and hitting a wall, missing your head by inches. It sounds like him. The tray clatters to the floor, but Quackity pays it no mind. The sound of shattering glass, porcelain, is drowning out the sound of his breathing, of the blood rushing through his skull. He doesn’t know if Karl and Sapnap are talking to him and quite frankly he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know where he’s looking, the image doesn’t make it to his brain. Another image, a memory, takes its place. He can’t feel the mug in his hands, but he knows it’s there, because every one of his muscles are tensed. He is completely still. He was never able to hurt him if he stood still. The ‘seeing-double’ myth was true and it always worked. If he got drunk, he got drunk enough to see quintuple. He never knew which Quackity to hit. All but once. The morning after, Quackity had leftover steak and potatoes, and a whisky stained kiss, for breakfast.

Quackity jumps as a hand cradles his face, some of the coffee spilling out- he braces himself. The coffee burns his hand. His mind spirals down and crashes back to reality.

“-you ok? Q?” An image of Karl, brushing his hair out of his face, and Sapnap, bent down cleaning up the plate off the floor, attacks his mind. The clinking shards, Karls light breathing and even lighter questions bombard his ears. His eyes sting. He pushes the mug into Karls hand and rushes out of the room, running down the hall and out to the balcony. It’s way too loud out here, too. Birds, cows, sheep, the distant sound of gleeful squeals and song. It’s too bright. There are too many colors. There’s too much going on. He just wants to hide.

“Quackity?” Sapnap calls from down the hall. Quackity loves him but he can’t do this right now. He digs through his pockets, and somehow, he has a three minute invis pot. That’s more than enough. He unstops the bottle, and downs it, the light liquid making his skin feel funny. He’s used to the feeling. He pockets the bottle, and turns down the hallway, Karl has joined Sapnap, the mug still in his hands. They both look really worried. He would be worried, too.

‘They wouldn’t hurt you and you know that. They’d rather die than hurt you. You know that. They’re not like him.’ Q tells himself. Karl and Sapnap pass by him, the breeze they produce ruffles his hair. Q hopes they- wait. He should be hoping they worry. Why is he hiding? He should talk to them about this. He’s running away from it, from them, again. But it's all he knows. Running from people who were supposed to protect him, when they didnt- when they hurt him- they left him- stood by and watched. No one protected him. No one ever cared enough to protect him-

"Sapnap-" Karl is stood in the middle of the hallway, he had come back up after checking for Quackity downstairs. Karl in front of Quackity, and Sapnap responds from a hallway out of Q's sight.

"Sapnap the balcony is open-" Karl says, worry tinting his voice.

"Yeah? Is he on the balcony?" Sapnap jogs back into view.

"Sapnap the front doors are still locked. He'd have left the front doors unlocked if he left through there." After a beat, both Karl and Sapnap break into a sprint down the stairs.

'What are they doing?' Quackity thinks, confused. 'What did it matter if the balcony- was the only way he could have gotten down- oh god-' Quackity runs after them, stopping to grab a bucket, he might be able to find a cow. Out on the patio, Q frantically looks around, trying to find any sign of movement, when a message pings on his wristband.

[S a p N a p]: H a s a n y o n e s e e n Q ?

Does he answer? Does he want- yes. Yes he wants them to find him. Q wants them to know he's safe. He's spent so long hiding from him, he needs to be found now.

/ m s g [S a p N a p]: I ' m s t i l l a t t h e h o u s e

He hears a semi-distant noise, the sound of running, as Karl and Sapnap round a tree and come barreling up the path. Q doesn't trust himself to speak. He reaches out and his hand brushes Karl's arm, and Karl stops.

"Karl?" Sapnap catches himself on the doorframe, and Karl looks down to where Q's hand rests on his arm.

"Quackity?" Karl asks, looking about three inches left to where Q actually is. Q squeezes Karl's arm. "You're invisible, honey." He covers Q's hand with his own, a twinkle in his eye.

"Is he here?" Sapnap walks up to them, and Q cups Sapnap's face with his other hand. Sapnap jumps, obviously, but still swoops in for a hug, getting Karl, but completely missing Q.

Quackity laughs. He joins the hug for himself, sandwiched in between Karl and Sapnap, and very faintly, "Thank you for not being like him."

The invis wears off.

Quackity doesn't need to hide.

He's been found.

#tw trauma #tw abuse #tw ptsd #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #karlnapity #c!karlnapity #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp writing #c!sapnap #c!karl #c!quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #quackity #i miss them :pensive:#gremtalks

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inosukki · 5 years ago

Text

jealous, various characters.

synopsis: how your boyfriend would react to his teammates seeing you in a bikini!

includes: bokuto koutarou, kuroo tetsurou, and semi eita.

bokuto koutarou

two words: emo mode😃

when bokuto invited you to the beach with his teammates, you were hesitant to accept

the only person you knew somewhat personally was akaashi, since you three would hangout all the time

plus, you were basically the polar opposite of bokuto, which meant that you didn’t immediately warm up to people

but he practically begged you to go and how could you say no to that cute face🥺

currently, you were sprawled out on the towel you brought for yourself and bokuto, clad in jean shorts and a t-shirt

you were sweating buckets so you decided to undress, you had a bikini underneath your clothes anyways

and the guys were playing beach volleyball, so it’s not like anyone was gonna notice... right?

well after you’d taken off your top and began to pull your shorts down your thighs, you could hear the entire team making their way over to you (as you all had set up your belongings in the same area)

quickly, you slipped off your shorts and sat criss cross on the towel

“[Y/NNNNN]!” a loud, whining voice called out

without giving you anytime to process, bokuto threw himself on top of you, causing you to fall over

“i’m thirstyyyy” he cried, pressing his face into your neck

your eyes widened at the display of affection, gently pushing him away

“idiot... you’re lucky i brought you a drink.” you teased, handing him the bottle of pocari sweat from your purse

“AHHAHHAHA LOOK!!! MY GIRLFRIEND BROUGHT ME A DRINK! YOU GUYS DON’T HAVE GIRLFRIENDS THAT BRING YOU DRINKS!”

just smile politely y’all. we’re witnessing mental illness❤️

you looked at him like🤨🤨 wondering wtf possessed him to even say that

as he sipped happily on the sports drink, hand snakes around your waist and ranting to akaashi about something you couldn’t quite catch, you observed the rest of his team sitting on their towels and gulping down their own drinks

“aaah, i forgot to bring my water and i don’t have any money...” your ears perked up at the sound of the person’s voice

you scanned the area, eyes falling upon wataru, who was empty handed. you felt bad

should i give him a drink?, you thought, mulling the idea over

it was hot and he had just played beach volleyball (which was much more tiring than regular volleyball) in the scorching sun...

it was as if your feet were moving on their own as you grabbed the bottled drink and moved away from bokuto’s grasp, not stopping until you reached your kouhai

“wataru-kun?” you mumbled quietly

his eyes trailed your exposed skin until reaching yours

you didn’t notice how the tips of his ears began to blush, or how his entire face was red

probably because yours was too... not because of him, but because that’s what happened when you talked to anyone who wasn’t in your immediate circle

you also didn’t notice how he was no longer looking into your eyes, but an area just below them

“eh... i heard you say that you forgot to bring a drink and i had an extra so... here you go!”

you extended your arm, waiting for him to accept it

you waited... and waited... and waited...

“wataru-kun?” you questioned, lowering your hand. god, did you just embarrass yourself?

it wasn’t until another first year (anahori, was it?) slapped the back of his head that he responded

“ah-thank you, [l/n]-senpai!” he blurted, grabbing the drink from your hand

you smiled, happily walking back to your seat

wait, where was bokuto?

you scanned the area to find bokuto a few feet away from his original spot, curled into himself and staring at the ocean

oh god, he was in his emo mode

“eh... akaashi? what happened to bokuto?” you whispered as to not alarm your boyfriend who could probably still here you

“wataru was staring at your chest and he got upset.” he replied in a monotonous tone

“AKAASHI!” you screeched, punching him in the shoulder. “why do you say things so bluntly? i’m going to go see if he’s ok.”

still embarrassed, you unconsciously crossed your arms

as you approached bokuto, you could practically feel the gloomy aura surrounding his form

“bokuto? are you alright?”

“i am a failure.”

HUH😀

“what? what do you mean?”

he turned to look at you, incredibly small and fully white eyes staring into your own

“another man was looking at my girlfriend inappropriately and i did nothing to stop it... i am a failure... you should breakup with me now.”

AHDJSJFKF WHAT KIND OF LOGIC???

“man...? wataru-kun is a first year, bokuto. he’s 15. a child. and i’m sure he didn’t mean to offend me, i didn’t even notice. if he had given me any trouble i could have handled it myself.”

your words fell on deaf ears as bokuto day in silence, resembling the 😞 emoji

you reached your hands to cup his face, but he turned around dramatically

“don’t look at me, this is the face of a loser!”

ok now you were a little annoyed

you forcefully grabbed his face and turned it towards your own with such ferocity that bokuto thought he’d gotten whiplash

“BOKUTO, you’re my boyfriend. my handsome, talented, amazing, boyfriend. you’re one of the top five aces in the country. wataru-kun doesn’t even compare to someone like you. he’s just a boy, go out there and show him what a man is! how scary and powerful his captain is!”

in a flash, the dark and gloomy aura dissapeared and was replaced by bokuto’s usually energetic and friendly air

“HEY HEY HEY, YOU’RE RIGHT. I AM THE BEST! I’M GONNA GO KICK HIS ASS IN YOUR HONOR!”

“bokuto that’s not what i meant—no!—BOKUTO!”

kuroo tetsurou

idk how to write for him lol😹👍

but i’ll try

so background😼 you’re like the unofficial manager of nekoma

you bring everyone protein bars and sports drinks and stay after practice to help pick up stray balls and do other ~managery~ stuff

EVERYONE LOVES YOU

lev calls you mom (he’s secretly your favorite)

yaku listens to you when you tell him to go easy on lev

taketora worships the ground you walk on (simp🙄🙄)

you call kenma your son but he glares at you when you do😹 (😿) big sad

(idk the other characters LOL)

everyone practically begs kuroo to invite you (which he was going to do anyway bc mf loves you duh)

so when he does your just like... um ofc u utter fool

lev had already told you about it when you were helping him practice his spikes so if kuroo didn’t invite you you would have shown up unannounced

but ngl you were lowkey feeling used bc after you accepted he told you that he’d gonna need the keys to your parents’ van bc it was the only car that could fit all of you in it

whatever you’re just happy to be there😋

you sat up in the front while kuroo drove, drumming your fingers against his thigh

“hey kuroo are we there yet”

“[y/n]... just look up what’s the point of asking”

when you guys arrived you and lev ZOOMED towards the beach to see who could make it there first

he won sadly :/

everyone else joined you so you guys began setting up

they were laying their towels on the sand, dropping their bags, and taking off their shirts

kenma kept his shirt on and was just on his switch the entire time

well everyone else was changing so you should too right🤩

you took off you swimsuit cover up and tossed it aside

and just when you did you heard the sound of squelching and a weight fall onto the floor

“TORA?? TORA ARE YOU OK”

tora’s nose was bleeding and he was twitching on the floor

AND NO ONE WAS ACKNOWLEDGING IT... LIKE IS HE OK

when you bent down to check on him his eyes widened, refusing to make eye contact

they were making contact with something else❤️

but he immediately corrected himself and closed his eyes

he might be a simp but he’s not a perv

you looked towards kuroo who was a few feet behind you expecting him to be mad or protective or whatever

but mf was laughing

LAUGHING

“oh god, that’s so pathetic! imagine fainting at the sight of boobs” he was dry heaving, hands on his knees as he doubled over

he didn’t give af🖕🖕 f u kuroo

semi eita

ion know how to write for this mf either

with semi, he hadn’t thought of inviting you to the beach with his teammates

he’d assumed it was team bonding/extra practice after their loss at the hands of karasuno

when in reality it was actually just a day off to have fun and forget about volleyball even if it was just for a few hours

tendou, your best friend, was the one to invite you

“come on, [y/n]! it’ll be fun! you don’t even have to go in the ocean if you don’t want to.”

you rolled your eyes, scoffing at the suggestion

“of course i’m going in the ocean, idiot. i’m not just going to watch you all have fun.”

his mischievous red eyes lit up

“perfect! i’ll pick you up from your dorm on saturday at two. make sure your ready.”

and that was that

tendou had picked you up as promised and the two of you made your way to the beach together

the sun was relentlessly beating down on you two, so by the time you had reached your destination, you were already sweating

“ugh,” you whined in displeasure. “my skin’s already starting to feel hot. i’m just going to change here, ‘kay?”

“good idea” he responded, taking off his shirt

you stripped down to your bikini and stuffed your clothes in your bag, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

a low whistle sounded from tendou

“wow, [y/n]! look at you, semi is going to just eat you up!”

you scoffed, punching him in the stomach. even though you knew he didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, you hated when he teased you. he knew just how to push you buttons.

“i will literally kill you. now lets go meet up with the others, creep.”

he chuckled, but followed you nonetheless.

you smiled as you saw the entire shiratorizawa volleyball team sat in a circle, enjoying a picnic

“hey, you guys started eating without us?” tendou cried, rushing past you to seat himself next to ushijima

“well you’re late, you deserve it.” yamagata uttered, not taking his eyes off of his food

you walked past the team, responding to their greetings with a smile and wave before stopping behind semi, lowering yourself to wrap your arms around him

“hello, eita!” you grinned, pressing a light kiss to his temple

he immediately stiffened against the abrupt touch, softening when he recognized that it was you

“[y/n]? what are you doing here?” he was thoroughly confused, turning his whole body to you

“tendou invited me! why do you not want me here?” you pouted, placing your hands on your thighs

at the suggestion he was immediately reduced to a stuttering mess. his usually stoic attitude was replaced by nervousness and defensiveness

“o-of course not! i just assumed only the team was coming. i’m glad you’re here, promise.”

his seriousness always made you laugh, maybe that’s why you loved teasing him

“i’m just fucking with you, eita.”

his automatic response was: “oh, well then eat shit.”

LMFAOOOO there’s the guy you know and love

you were about to slide in between eita and shirabu when you felt a pair of wandering eyes to your right

shirabu was... checking you out??? HUH

he didn’t even notice you were looking at him because he was looking straight at your thighs

MF EVEN LEANED BACKWARDS TO LOOK AT YOUR BUTT

you weren’t even offended because this was the funniest shit you had witnessed in your life

the kid that your boyfriend hated with his entire being was literally checking you out in front of him

before you could form a sentence that would surely embarrass the setter, you heard your boyfriend screaming and lunging at shirabu

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING YOU DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE SHIT? I’LL KILL YOU!”

“HUH? g-get off me! what are you doing?”

what da fawk😃

you immediately grabbed eita by his arm and pulled him away from the lowerclassmen, a shocked expression adorning your face

he was practically fuming, if you were in a cartoon, steam would’ve been blowing out of his ears by now. his eyes ripped themselves from shirabu’s cowering form and were now focused on you

“you were just letting him look at you! i saw you!”

NOT HIM TRYING TO BLAME THIS ON YOU

“well i was gonna tell him off before you acted like a fucking psycho... which was funny as fuck by the way.”

“it was not funny” he growled, folding his arms over his chest.

“it was too! as much as i enjoyed that, please never do it again. i can take care of myself, okay?”

he rolled his eyes but nodded nonetheless, earning a chaste kiss on the cheek

you thought that was the end of it but he stood up, grabbed your wrist, and dragged you away from his team

“we’re going somewhere private. now.”

time for the vaccum seal two handed twist gawk gawk wombo combo🥵🥵

[a/n]: this was requested and i wasn’t sure if you meant that you wanted random beachgoers to be staring at the reader so i just made a teammates do it hehe <3 WHY DID I MAKE THEM TOXIC AND WHY IS MY WRITING STYLE ALL OVER THE PLACE LMFAOO😹👍

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro imagines #kuroo tetsuro x reader #semi eita imagine #semi eita imagines #semi eita x reader #bokuto koutarou imagine #bokuto koutarou imagines #bokuto koutarou x reader

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rvmmm21 · 5 years ago

Text

. unpleasant reminders (1.5) .

small note : i know what you’re thinking. great titling. seriously, why can’t i title to save my arse? like i’d pay someone to title my stuff for me. i didn’t mention anything about currency, so go wild. again, please heed my warnings before reading. and uh... remind me never to write this much dialogue ever again, yeah?

*you do not understand how Elated i am to finally be able to pin half of this onto you guys*

i’ve said this in the tags before, but please don’t use shock-collars. save them for this au, okay?

(also... i... i do write soft stuff too. um, j-just in case you forgot... it’s okay to ask me for soft things. i’ll gladly oblige. rvmmm21 isn’t just a yandere bucket).

[yandere!omega!irene x alpha!wendy]

tw : choking, bondage, violence, noncon, implied use of shock-collar. (a very, VERY toxic relationship).

...

Bae Joohyun doesn’t need to be an alpha.

She’s already in control.

And Seungwan isn’t the only one who knows things. Joohyun does too.

She knows plenty.

But if there’s one thing she knows best, it’s that alphas who love their omegas unconditionally do not bolt at any given chance.

And if there’s anything Joohyun considers worse than an alpha who is unwilling to accept that they belong under her, it’s an alpha who actively does something about it.

It is rather unfortunate that Joohyun, being an omega, does not possess those useful little pheromones alphas use to either overwhelm or calm. Life would be so much easier if she could just have Seungwan on her knees with a whiff of her scent. But when life presents her a challenge like an unruly alpha... a challenge like Seungwan, Joohyun would rather die than back down. She may have been cautious, hell, she may have even bothered to put on a coat before setting out after her fleeing lover. But it really doesn’t matter, not when Seungwan is as docile and harmless as a baby mouse.

It’s at times like this where Joohyun really doesn’t think her girlfriend deserves her alpha status, or any of those knee-weakening pheromones. It’d be a surprise in itself if Seungwan was aware she even had them, let alone know when and how to use them.

But that isn’t completely her fault. She’s a young pup. Which means she has a lot to learn.

Luckily for her, Joohyun is nothing, if not a well-meaning trainer.

…

Joohyun is standing over her when she opens her eyes.

Even through the blur, it’s creepy. The way she’s just… observing.

She’s calm. Far too calm for Seungwan’s comfort. Not that there’s anything remotely comforting about being gagged and cuffed to the floor. She wants to kick and scream, because she recognises her surroundings far too quickly.

The basement.

Or as Joohyun insists it is, the ‘Training Room’.

For a few seconds she does nothing but quietly stare at the metal around her wrists, the taste of old rags seeping into her tongue anything but pleasant. Finally, Joohyun sighs, bending over to run her fingers along the knot behind her head as she breaks the silence. “Gag wasn’t necessary, but… I know you hate it. And I did catch you doing something very naughty, so I think it’s only fitting, don’t you?”

She fiddles around with the fabric before dragging it down and tossing the damp cloth to the side. Seungwan’s jaw aches when she flexes it a couple times. Stray tears roll down from the corners of bloodshot eyes as she opens her mouth to form some sort of apology. But as soon as her lips are parted, four fingers shove their way into her mouth, as good as choking her in an attempt to keep her from making another mistake.

“Don’t you dare.”

The tears are welling up and she can’t help herself.

“You ran. Again.” Joohyun’s tone is somewhere between a drawl and a snarl. The smaller girl impulsively jerks forward when fingers thrust themselves deeper down her throat. She coughs, gags and tries to twist away, but Joohyun just follows her, never leaving more than a millimetre of space between them. “How many times this month, alpha?”

“No, no, no…” Seungwan tries to say, but it just comes out as incoherent mumbling around Joohyun fingers, all subdued and useless. And it doesn’t help that her head is still spinning. Holding onto a simple train of thought is proving to be harder than the force Joohyun must have applied to knock her out and drag her back.

When the omega pulls her fingers out with a skin-crawling laugh, Seungwan scrambles to defend herself, pointless as it is.

“I wasn’t trying any – wasn’t running, I–”

A foot embeds itself into her diaphragm and cuts off whatever the end of that sentence was supposed to be. The hot pain concentrated in her chest slowly blossoms down her ribs, stomach, and her head. The impact of her back shoved further into the cement she’s slumped against sends agonising jolts down her spine, and it’s that instinctive wince that reminds her that she truly is at the mercy of her sweet, sweet omega.

The added pressure behind the heel serves to better restrict Seungwan’s breathing.

“Puppy’s learnt to lie now, has she?” Joohyun sounds lethargic, and it’s nearly twice as scary as that look of pure, animalistic rage Seungwan had seen on her face not two seconds ago. “You’d better tell me where you picked this charming little habit up… or you’re not going to like what happens next.”

She sounds unimpressed and bored and it’s terrifying.

“P-please…” It doesn’t cross Seungwan that she’s speaking out of turn, that she’s not answering her omega’s question, that she’s not thinking straight. It’s impossible. She can’t think straight. Not when she’s in such a compromising position. “I-I promise it won’t happen again, please… I don’t want to run, it – it was a m-mistake! I didn’t mean to–”

“I didn’t mean to plan an escape, I didn’t mean to keep running when I was called, I’m so sorry, Hyun, please don’t hurt me, Hyun.” Joohyun taunts her, mimicking the panic in her alpha’s voice with a sickening light-heartedness. “How many times do you think I’ve heard that, hm?” She pauses to chuckle at her own awful reminiscing. “Pretty much the first day we started training. And how many times has it worked?”

She kneels down again and wraps her hand around her alpha’s throat. She squeezes, smile broadening when Seungwan whimpers and chokes out a weak – “… none.”

Joohyun smirks. “None.”

Tiny black dots speckle Seungwan’s vision as the pressure on her throat increases, turning her laboured breathing into ragged pants. It takes everything she has to force herself still, if only to keep from encouraging the irate omega, who’s growling at her now, sounding more like an alpha than she can ever hope to be.

“Don’t make me wait for it, puppy.”

At this point Seungwan’s reactions are more reflexive than genuine. “I love – I love you!” Her words are clogged in her throat, but she forces them out in short, sharp gasps. “I love you! I’m sorry – sorry I tried to run, please, please don’t… please Hyunnie, you’re hurting me, stop please…”

Joohyun just grins and uses one more final burst of strength before she relents, keeping her alpha pinned up by her shoulders as she splutters and wheezes and struggles to stop the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t think you’re getting off scot-free. Seems like I haven’t trained you well enough, puppy. Outbursts like that are very rude, and they will not go unpunished.” She finally lets her go completely to reach for something Seungwan can’t see. It should soothe her, however the lack of pressure on her neck and the lack of a foot in her ribs does little to do so. Quite the contrary. It fires every nerve in her body up, because if Joohyun’s hands aren’t on her now, there’s no telling where they’ll be next.

When Joohyun finally turns around, it’s the familiar little remote she has clasped in her right hand and device in her left that kicks Seungwan’s legs into gear, weak as they are. It makes her forget. She forgets she’s tethered to a U bolt in the floor, forgets that if her omega can singlehandedly retrieve her mid-run, she stands no chance if they’re in the same room.

She forgets her place.

Still, she springs into action, aiming to lunge past her insane girlfriend and head straight for the door. But she never reaches it. As soon as she’s on her feet, Joohyun is straddling her back, knee digging into the base of her spine and forcing her face into the cold cement floor. Seungwan sobs harder, one hand grappling pathetically out in front of her while the other stays pinned under Joohyun’s knee.

“Bad alpha, bad puppy.” The omega patronises as she fumbles around with the contraption she had intended to put on her lover ever so nicely. Of course, Seungwan had to fuck that up too, didn’t she? The battered alpha goes rigid when she feels deceptively soft lips against the nape of her neck, kissing her so lightly and so comfortingly that she almost mistakes it as forgiveness. But that hope is quickly suffocated when she hears the click of a buckle and a lock, when there’s that tightness around her neck.

She suddenly realises that –

“I’m tired of false promises, puppy. If you can’t tell me the truth, then I think it’s better you can’t tell me anything, don’t you?”

– it’s much more painful to swallow in fear when there are two icy iron prongs burrowing themselves firmly into your throat.

#red velvet #red velvet yandere #wenrene #irene x wendy #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #irene #wendy #omegaverse #yandere omegaverse #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios

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ponyrepress · 4 years ago

Note

All 25 for Yuno please and thank you

Does this for rewrite Yuno so canon Yuno actually <3

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

Coming back from the grave she’s dug herself quite literally like after all the killing and suffering she’s managed to make good friends who genuinely care about her more than her shitty parents ever did

2) Who they want to please the most.

To begin with it was Yuki simply because Yuki was Just Sitting There and acknowledged Yuno as a human capable of emotion and thought but god Yuno needed that to the point where she fixated on his existence as means of coping with her own. Nowadays she just wants her gfs Mao and Hinata to be happy though <3

3) Who depends on them.

Their entire friend group depends on her experience and expertise in the game to survive as well as to work out a plan but afterwards? They still depend on her in a way of “you’re my friend and I care about you. Please show me how to properly use this knife so I can idk make a wolf carving or something :]” like they love her and Need her to be happy so they try really hard to remind her that her skills are still useful when they’re not fighting for their lives

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Yuno I think would isolate herself like she’d go “I’ve caused enough pain; it’s better for them just to think I finally ran off” but within a day Hinata would track her down and make her fess up and the rest of the month would be spent doing whatever Yuno had haphazardly jotted down onto her bucket list as advised by Aru

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Mao got her a stuffed animal & Hinata won her one at the fair once and neither of them leave her bedside because while her awful parents may have been rich they’d never bothered to buy her anything of comfort or out of genuine love so by god she clings to both of those stuffed animals for dear life every night that Mao and Hinata don’t share her bed

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back

Yuno never really had parents who loved her but she’d love to have a pair

7) This character’s favorite character

Yuno thinks Shiori rgu is Neat and then she’s like ahaha wait. Wait.

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Hm i don’t think Yuno would be a driving for the hell of it type but the honest answer to this is whatever is easiest to hotwire

9) What calms them when they are upset.

Yuno needs one of her gfs to stroke her hair and just. Not ask any questions for a little while

10) How they deal with pain.

Yuno still tries to completely ignore it despite her intentions to address it but Hinata will see her going a little Too Apeshit on the punching bag and then gently pressure her into admitting she’s going through Something before getting the words out of her mouth through the wall her brains created around her ability to be honest

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

Mao’s mom knitted her a pink sweater and she loves it so so much because it’s physical proof of the fact she is loved and also it’s Pink

12) How they sleep.

Yuno cannot sleep unless she has the aforementioned stuffed animals &/or her gfs at her side or she’s tired/lost enough blood to just pass the fuck out. 99% of the sleep she does manage to get is haunted by bad memories intrusive thoughts and other brands of nightmares

13) What kind of parent they would be.

I think given the right amount of time to process what was done to her she could be a good parent because she wouldn’t wish what was done to her on anyone but she would just be relatively Awkward around kids despite always having candy on her when she visits any of her friends with kids like Yuno Gasai definitely does Try

14) How they did in school

Yuno struggles in school from being Out Of It thanks to her abusive parents for a considerable portion of it but she tries really hard to catch up and Hinata Mao and even Aru who doesn’t care for school themself will help her should she ask

15) What cologne or perfume they would use

Yuno sees cotton candy anything and goes “yooo fuckin sick :)”

16) Their sexuality

Lesbian. <3

17) What they’d sing at karaoke

Yuno would either break the fourth wall and sing blood teller or sing Magia like she just loves baller eds about love and death

18) Special talents they have

Yuno is Very Good with nearly every weapon you can imagine but also she can paint really well like it’s always abstract but god she can convey emotion extremely well through images

19) When they feel safest

Lying in the sun next to Mao and Hinata in Hinata’s dad’s old mansion like she is simply at peace in the warmth of the sun with only better days ahead of her..

20) Household chore they hate the most

Yuno hates having to clean her room because any evidence that she’s Lived somewhere without having to run and in comfort is something that she finds comfort in

21) Their fondest childhood memory

Minene shows Yuno girlsgogames dot com one day when she learns about how shitty Yuno’s parents were after the killing game’s passed and it’s not much but Yuno finds great solace in it

22) How they spend their money.

Yuno loves food like she will see cotton candy or cake or pocky and she’ll go “that’s it that’s going in the cart!” Also Yuno loves stuffed animals like she’ll buy at least one a month for her room and she’ll always give one to Mao and Hinata when the opportunity presents itself. Also she’ll see a pink gun and go el oh el Minene would u mind lending me ur- wait ur wanted internationally. Nishijima would u mind lending me ur id

23) What kind of alcohol they drink

Yuno just thinks alcohol is disgusting

24) What they wish they could change about themselves

Yuno wishes she could’ve figured out a Lot about herself sooner than she did like she wishes so badly she could’ve known the feeling in the pit of her stomachs wasn’t love it was fear for her life and the life of the single person she clung to for so long. She also desperately wishes she hadn’t taken so many lives that would’ve been fine had she not touched them.

25) What other people wish they could change about them

Yuno’s found family wishes that Yuno would stop being so hard on herself like yes she murdered many people but also her own parents stuck her in a cage she then put them in there and let them die before she was thrown into a killing game which she originally won and then repeated after she found out that she couldn’t bring people back from the dead then killed an alternate version of herself and she is 14.

#thank u for letting me talk abt Yuno Gasai I lov her very much <3 #anon #asks

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cialbi · 5 years ago

Text

Summertime Happy Daze - Chapter Two

Summary: Working in a small, local grocery store down by the shore has its perks; good pay, free food and seven handsome coworkers. Your first day back after two years abroad your happy summer days have just begun.

Genre: Slice of Life, Friendship, Romance (fluff), Hurt and Comfort, AU

Pairings: BTS ot7 x Reader

Warnings: Language, Panic Attack, Flashbacks

Word Count: 7730

Based on TRUE Daily Events

⤎Previous

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What was only minutes felt like hours as the cold began to slice through your skin. An air of panic had built as you and Yoongi stared, bug-eyed, at each other. The broken handle seemed to mock you as it laid on the ground, it's frozen metal face like a bad joke, and no one was laughing.

"Oh shit, Yoongi. What do we do?" You asked, breath shaky.

Yoongi swallowed, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thought for a moment before bending down to pick up the handle and then attempted to reattach it to the gaping hole from where it was once fixed. The handle gave a little cry of resistance and then fell back down to the ground with a 'clunk.' Well, so much for that.

"Fuck. Hold on." He said and picked the handle back up. When his second attempt failed, Yoongi inspected the face bore and cursed. "Dammit. I think a piece is missing."

"Shit, seriously?" Your eyes blew wide.

Yoongi nodded. "I think so... It should be around here somewhere."

Instantly, the two of you were on your hands and knees, searching for a piece that would belong to a door, though what that looked like neither of you knew. Your kneecaps ached against the freezing floor and a knot in your throat formed when you were coming up short-handed. You looked behind boxes, stretched hands beneath shelves and overturned every crate you could see, but there was no sign of the missing piece anywhere.

"Did you find anything?" You turned to look at Yoongi who had just finished setting a bucket of raw chicken thighs down.

"No." He shook his head in defeat.

"Fuck."

You scraped a hand through your hair and shivered. Cold pricked against your skin and almost every hair on your body was erect as your nose began to drip. The temperature seemed to drop by the second, the gravity of the situation lodging like a pit in your stomach. What do we do? Shit. What do we do? It's getting so cold I can barely feel my hands. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Yoongi, picking up on your struggle, placed a hand on your shoulder in reassurance. "Let's stay calm ok? We'll call out to Namjoon and Tae and get some help from the other side."

You nodded with a quaking lip.

The two of you pounded on the door and yelled in hopes of catching the attention of your two other coworkers, praying to God that they were nearby and not in the midst of helping customers.

"Namjoon! Taehyung!"

You heard a curious murmur that progressively grew louder as the two boys approached. You could practically see Namjoon's scrunched brow, wondering what could possibly be going on from inside the walk-in. There was a jostling sound from the other side, then a few moments of silence passed followed by a rap on the door.

"Are you guys ok?" It was Taehyung who answered first.

"What happened?" Namjoon's voice followed.

Yoongi let out a breath of relief, little cotton puffs haloing his lips from the cold air. "The door handle fell off and we're trapped inside."

"Shit." Namjoon groaned. "I thought I told you guys to be careful!" His voice was scolding, but there was a clear underlying tone of worry laced in his words.

Yoongi's shoulders flattened. "Now's not the time for a lecture, Joon."

You heard the butcher sigh heavily, knowing he was trying his best to think logically amidst this bad circumstance. "Ok, ok, you're right. I'll go get Jin."

"Hyung, I'll stay here with them!" Taehyung said after him.

"Hurry! It's cold as fuck in here!"

As you heard Namjoon's retreating footsteps, you shifted your attention to Yoongi, a clear look of fear swimming in your eyes. Yoongi smiled meekly and grabbed your arms, rubbing them with the best encouragement he could offer.

"Hey, don't worry. Namjoon and Jin will figure out what to do."

You sniffed, looking around the giant fridge.

The walk-in wasn't tiny, but it was also not very big. The door was the type that sealed shut without a crack as to maintain the temperature, keeping the chilled air from escaping out into the deli. Fluorescent lights beamed off the icy white walls and made you feel like you were surrounded by flashing paparazzi cameras. You gulped, dizzy.

You didn't bode well in enclosed spaces, especially enclosed spaces below thirty degrees, and you could feel your claustrophobia creep up your nerves. The walls felt like they were inching closer with every breath you took and your vision became narrowed as the worst case scenarios flooded your mind. You were starting to get that lightheaded, too-warm feeling that meant you were either going to hurl or fall down soon.

What if they can't figure out what to do? What if we're trapped in here for hours? What if Namjoon and Jin don't make it here in time? Shit, we're gonna freeze.

Not being able to stand any longer, you sank down to the floor and pulled your legs into yourself for comfort. Oh no. It's happening. You thought, the familiar sensation of a panic attack draped around you like a wet blanket.

Yoongi crouched down beside you with the barest of touch on the small of your back. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I uh... sorry, I just..." You trailed, not knowing how to put it in words.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you inhaled a breath. The rise and fall of your chest stung with every constriction of your lungs and pools of moisture trilled down your back. Yoongi frowned.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. The panic only intensified as your leg began to convulse with jittery thrusts and you swallowed thickly. Your breathing shallowed.

"It's nothing. T-this happens sometimes... I get nervous... " You bit back your words feeling extremely embarrassed for this to be happening in front of Yoongi of all people. Hurling definitely felt like the possible outcome.

"What happens? Tell me what's going on."

"Really.. it's nothing." You started, your body hot and freezing at the same time.

"It doesn't look like nothing to me." Yoongi eyed you with concern.

You'd be damned if you were going to admit you were having a panic attack, so you shook your head again and shoved your head between your knees. You wished Yoongi would just back off and let anxious dogs lie, but that smart-ass, god-bless-his-soul of a man refused to relent.

"Does your tummy hurt?" He asked.

Fuck yes your tummy fucking hurt. And your heart, and your brain, and goddammit it's cold. Why does Jin keep the walk-in so motherfucking cold? Part of you wanted to tell him to stop asking questions and let you be, but words just weren't finding you.

As if your silence was an answer, it finally occurred to Yoongi what was happening. He pulled back a little bit.

"Oh..." His eyes widened. "Oh." Yoongi's expression mixed with emotions, contemplating what to do. "Hey Y/N. Is it ok if I touch you now?"

Excuse me, what? Not knowing how to answer, you remained quiet.

"Ok." Yoongi said carefully. "I'm going to touch you now."

After a moment, you felt yourself being pulled forward as he cradled you against his chest. You could hear the gentle drum of his heartbeat and his body felt warm, though he was clearly as cold as you were by the way he shivered.

"Shh. It's gonna be ok Y/N." He whispered, his breath feverish against the shell of your ear.

"Hyung, what's happening?" Taehyung's voice called from the deli.

Yoongi's lips dipped, eyebrows furrowed in consideration. "I think..." He paused, thinking about his words. "Y/N's tummy hurts." He said, rubbing circles on your back. Something told you he knew exactly what was happening by how he'd asked permission to touch you, and you were more than grateful that he had respected your confidentiality.

"Is she ok?" Taehyung paused. "Sorry. Stupid question. Y/N it's going to be fine, I promise. We're going to figure this out."

From the other side, the raven-haired boy was seated on the ground, his face smushed against the metal door as he tried to hear what was proceeding. Worried was an understatement.

"Dammit. Where are they?" Taehyung bit his lip and looked back towards the front of the deli.

Inside the walk-in, Yoongi patted your back, using a soothing tempo that he hoped would calm you. Running a hand through your hair, he sighed. He understood that there was very little he could say to comfort you, so he decided to walk you through the anxiety instead.

"Hey. Y/N. Let's talk about something." He tried.

You sniffed. "A-about what?"

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know, what do you want to talk about?"

"U-um..." You had trouble thinking of a topic, so you said "The s-store seems like it's g-going well." Great conversation starter. You sneezed.

Yoongi laughed. "Does it?" He rested his chin on your head. "I'm not sure. The store's been lonely without you."

"W-what?" You stuttered, wondering if you had heard correctly. You hadn't realized they were clenched shut until your eyes snapped open at his confession.

Yoongi's voice was gentle as he looked over to an assembly of chicken barrels, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. "Everyone's missed you so much, you know? Jin, Jimin and the others. Not me, obviously." You laughed a little at that, making Yoongi smirk. "It's uh... not the same without you. Quiet." Yoongi wanted to walk off a cliff at how cheesy he sounded. "Hey. Remember that time when Hoseok got so sunburned that he could barely move? He whined about using sunblock like a baby and we all thought he was crazy. He looked like a walking hotdog by the end of the day--well deserved might I add--but you made sure he applied plenty of aloe."

"He's so s-stupid sometimes." You grinned against your arm.

"Stupid. But means well." He paused. "I think."

"And Namjoon b-burned all the barbecue." You muttered.

"That's right." He chuckled lowly. "And then you spent hours showing him how to grill the food correctly."

"HE STILL BURNED EVERYTHING THOUGH!" Taehyung yelled from behind the door.

Another smile tugged at your lips as you could recall that afternoon very clearly. You could smell the salt of the ocean and how the warmth of the sticky sun greased your bare skin. The horizon had been an intoxicating shade of pink that day and the sounds of seagulls a pleasant melody amongst the cloudless sky. You could see the boys in their swimming trunks, splashing around in the water like puppies and the whoops of joy they had expressed as they ran down the shoreline in a flurry of sand and seashells. The taste of Namjoon's poor cooking ghosted your tongue as you brought up the image of everyone scraping charred pieces of meat and veggies with their fingers. The way Hoseok looked like a lobster after refusing to properly administer sunscreen played through your mind and you thought of later that evening when you had all packed up to go home.

"Aish. How did this happen?" Hoseok had whined, poking at his seared skin gingerly.

"We told you to reapply after swimming hyung." Jungkook had noted as he folded up the beach umbrella.

"But the bottle said waterproof!"

A little laugh escaped your lips. "So stupid..."

You felt Yoongi shift as he smiled against your hair. "Yeah. We really are. Stupid."

You felt your heart rate slow to a soft pitter-pat, and your clammy hands loosened their grasp from around Yoongi's hoodie, tangled nerves beginning to unravel. The nauseousness dispersed from your stomach, your jelly-like limbs regaining their strength. It took a minute for your mind to clear. Then abruptly, you pulled away in sheer mortification. Only one day back and you're already sobbing into a man's sweatshirt. What the actual fuck.

Fucking get yourself together you psycho! "I'm sorry." You mumbled.

Yoongi leant back slightly and smiled, unbothered. "Don't be."

Minutes flew by as you sat together in silence. Yoongi remained crouched by your side on the ground, watching you closely but you refused to meet his gaze. Blood rushed to your face as you realized you must have seemed incredibly insane just moments ago. Any confidence you had regained this morning shattered, and you felt your pride fly out the window and sail away into the distance.

You opened and closed your mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but words were lost to you.

From outside, a murmur of voices had clustered around the door. It sounded like Taehyung was talking to someone by the way his husky voice shifted in intervals. Your ears perked as the new voices of Jimin and Hoseok became apparent and you could hear Namjoon saying something in response, his tone flat but serious. Finally, Jin spoke.

"I don't care what it is, do whatever it takes to get them out. Stat."

Your shoulders slumped in relief at the sound of your boss's fierce, silky voice.

Yoongi touched your face with his fingers, the cool silver of his rings steamed against your blushing cheeks. "You see?" He said. "They're gonna do everything they can to make sure we get outta here."

You shivered and then sneezed. Shuddering, you hugged yourself tighter. Yoongi clucked his tongue and took off his hoodie then forced it over your head, helping your trembling arms through the respective sockets. Your own clothes had been baggy to begin with, but his sweatshirt was far bigger and encompassed you in a toasty blanket of heat that thawed your frozen bones. Your blush deepened, though you gripped the sleeves with sunken nails and steeped in the warmth and smell of mint. You noticed underneath he only had on a white, skin-hugging t-shirt that accentuated his lean muscles–a sight you would have normally found delicious if it weren't for your concern about his well-being.

"Aren't you gonna freeze?" You asked.

Yoongi just shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

You began to protest, but he silenced you with a finger as if to say 'don't start with me' so you nodded and pulled your knees to your chest.

"Thank you."

"Mmhmm."

As time ticked by with quiet, you found yourself wondering. Coming down off your anxiety-ridden high, you realized how flawlessly Yoongi had executed his actions and you began to wonder to yourself how he'd known exactly what to do instead of flying off to a corner of ignorance and aversion. Physical contact, consoling, grounding. The three steps of aiding a person rooted in an episode of panic. The three steps Yoongi had demonstrated with ease and precision.

"Hey Yoongi." You piped up, fiddling with your nail beds as you stared at your feet. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

You picked at a hangnail, thinking how to phrase your question. "Um... how did you know what to do?"

Yoongi fixed you with a perplexed look. "Know how to do what?"

You shrugged smalley, shrinking back into yourself, a twinge of shame poked at your gut. "You know... how to calm me down?"

"Oh." He considered his response for a second. You lifted your head when he didn't say anything and your eyes were met with an intense stare as he replied earnestly. "I have some experience."

You blinked at him. That was an answer you didn't expect.

What does he mean by 'experience?' You briefly speculated. Then it hit you, and suddenly you didn't need him to explain. Oh.

"Yoongi, I-"

'VROOOOOOOOOO–' A loud noise blasted from outside the door, the deafening blare of an electric bolt-screw interrupting your sentence. You and Yoongi exchanged looks of confusion as it hummed boisterously from the other side of the walk-in door. You covered your ears. It went on for a good five minutes before subsiding into stillness and you eyed the door skeptically as nothing happened. Then suddenly, the metal fortress jerked back with a thump and the glare of sunshine poured through the open void in a stream of whites and golds.

Simultaneously, you both stood up, your bodies stiff from the frosty air and muscles cracking under the pressure of sitting for so long on the glacial floor. You stepped out towards the light and blinked, adjusting your vision. Without warning, a ball of blonde hair catapulted into your arms and hugged you tightly as if you were a lost lover, finally reunited. The smell of flowers and soap wafted through your nose and baby-pink cashmere cloaked you like a curtain. It was Jimin.

"I was so worried! Are you ok? Oh my gosh you're so cold!" The boy pulled out from his embrace and rubbed his hands up and down your shoulders in attempts to warm you.

A wide smile spread across your lips. You'd never been so happy to see his pretty face.

"Hey Jiminnie. I'm ok." You said, pinching his cheeks. You breathed deeply, soaking up the new found heat of the deli.

Jimin let his arms fall, his eyes held yours with a worried expression. "You're blue."

You laughed softly. "Am I? Well it is cold in there. I don't recommend getting trapped inside, it's not fun."

Jimin made a face. "I'm just glad you're alright. If it weren't for Jungkook and Namjoon hyung, well... I don't want to imagine what could have happened."

You noticed off to the side, Jungkook and Namjoon busy heaving the giant door away from the walk-in, having unbolted its hinges in order to set you free. Their muscles flexed like gods as they moved it with incredible power, placing it to rest against the wooden counter of the sandwich block. You shot them a grateful look, which they returned with relieved smiles.

"Oh you poor thing!" Hoseok swooped through the room with a red fleece blanket that he then draped around your shoulders. His deep brown eyes twinkled with fret and his lips were pulled into a frown of concern. "Here you go, sweetheart. Do you want some tea?"

You shook your head. To be honest, tea sounded nice, but you didn't want him to go through the trouble. Just the sight of his face was enough to toast your wintry insides. "No, thank you."

"Do you need anything else? Some food? A heating pad? I can get you some aspirin if you'd like. I know I have some here somewhere..." The gardener fussed, reminding you of a clucking mother.

"No. I'm ok. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You'd tell me if you weren't sure, right?"

"Yes Hobi!" You laughed, touched by his maternal affection.

Hoseok squinted, not quite believing you. "Alright..."

Then suddenly, two sets of arms wrapped around you from each side as Taehyung and Jungkook gathered you up in a double hug. The strength of their biceps squeezing your waist had you gasping for air and you squirmed for release, but neither of them let up as they buried their noses in your frigid hair.

"Guys. Can't. Breathe." You squeaked.

"Sorry Y/N." Jungkook said, clearly not sorry.

"We've captured you, and we're not letting go!" Taehyung cheered.

"Seriously guys, air!"

"Yah! Don't crowed her!" The squawking voice of Jin cut through the room.

You craned your neck to see the shopkeeper, his perfect hair messy and his cheeks painted pink as your eyes met. He was standing behind the others with his arms folded firmly over his aproned chest. You could tell he was trying to look calm, but there was the distinct hint of worry slapped across his features.

"You know, I was in there too." Yoongi rolled his onyx eyes as he brushed past the flock of bodies to lean against the butcher's block. He palmed his arms to create circulation and sniffed his cherry nose to keep it from running.

Jimin dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Your heart is already frozen solid, hyung."

"You didn't do anything to her in there did you?" Jungkook raised a brow, lip turned up in jest.

Hoseok gasped. "The quiet ones are always the ones to look out for!"

Even Namjoon stiffened, throwing daggers at Yoongi's sea-green head.

Yoongi groaned, rubbing at his oncoming headache.

You smiled to yourself. If only they knew.

Taehyung looked down at you, a sudden serious expression fresh on his face. "Are you really ok?"

You sighed. Yoongi may have said your tummy hurt, but Taehyung wasn't stupid. Not that stupid at least. "I'm fine Tae. I promise." You said, ignoring the curious glances that shifted between you and Taehyung.

He furrowed his brows and made a face that said he wanted to say more, but, acknowledging your resistance, he backed off with a nod.

"Is everything ok?"

"What's going on, I can't see."

"I think someone got trapped inside the freezer."

"Oh no. That's terrible."

An ocean of hushed whispers pricked your ears and you turned to look up front at a small hub of customers who had gathered to witness the whole incident. Looks of concern mixed with intrigue at the promise of drama had you avert your gaze to the tiled floor of the deli. You felt watched. With all those wandering eyes and the boys fussing over you like a lost puppy, you suddenly felt very self-conscious and very embarrassed that you had been the cause of such a scene. Because leave it to you to walk straight into a cheesy twenty-first century drama.

Jin cleared his throat. Taehyung and Jungkook released you from their strongholds as the shopkeeper approached you with a gentle smile. He touched your arm softly and you shivered, though you were no longer cold. With eyes that could melt buckets of ice, he brushed a stray lock away from your face.

"Hey there." He said.

You smiled weakly. "Hi."

"Some first day back, eh?"

You laughed, faltering. "You're telling me."

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The moon was barely a sphere in the sky, peering from behind the clouds like a game of peek-a-boo as the sun took its final call for the day. The streets bathed in amber, glowed amidst the black of the paved road and lent a dazzling ray of evening light. It was quiet, save for the churn of automobile tires as they sped down the road in a glide of red taillights. The weather had shifted considerably, the greasy summer heat lessened to a sizzle and cool sails of air blew by reliably.

The streets were massive, like a highway, only less traffic, and the sidewalks merged so that the only barrier of protection they offered were painted white lines that stretched along the ground and out into the distance. You were strolling down the flat streets of the main boulevard, hands tucked into the pouch of Yoongi's hoodie, clocked out and work finished for the evening.

After recovering from the events back at Kim's Market, the day had pretty much returned to normal. Well, as normal as a day at Kim's could get. There had been no trouble reattaching the door to the walk-in, though there was still the matter of the broken handle, so Jin had decided that until everything was completely safe, the fridge was off limits. It was a relief that the walk-in itself still worked, otherwise the perishables inside would spoil. However, no one wanted to risk a repeat of what had happened so the shopkeeper had roped it off with some yellow caution tape and instructed Jungkook to fix the handle in the morning.

From beside you, Yoongi stretched, his muscles a ripple of pent up knots and a little sliver of stomach exposed itself from underneath his white t-shirt. The seafoam-green of his hair glittered a bright lime color against the setting sun and his handsome features lulled in a peaceful trance as he looked straight ahead. A curtain of awkward tension drifted between you two as you walked together in silence.

When you had gathered up your belongings from your locker, Yoongi had approached you with an offer to walk you home, an offer you had hesitated to take. You had told him your parent's house was only about ten minutes away by foot and that there was really no need, but he had insisted. And you, not wanting to be rude, accepted. So here you were, walking side by side and not a word exchanged as the hum of cars raced by.

Minutes dragged along painfully. You fiddled with your keys, tracing the outline of your cat-shaped key-fob to soothe your nerves. The weight of the anxiety attack hung on your neck and you found yourself without a word to say. You didn't know what to say, really. Shame was always something you had trouble vocalizing and 'sorry' seemed like much too much of an understatement by this point.

You glanced at Yoongi. Not seeming to mind the quiet, the man's eyes were fixed to the ground, the length of his lashes casted shadows beautifully amongst his sculpted cheekbones and his poreless skin glistened gold resembling the scales of a koi fish. Your lips parted in awe. He looked serene, like a portrait from a mid-centuries painting.

Having registered your stare, Yoongi lifted his head and turned to meet your eyes, their onyx shade of black pooled in reflected light.

"What?" He raised a brow.

You blushed, quickly throwing your gaze back in front of you. "N-nothing."

At 11th Street and Beachfront, you gestured for Yoongi to follow you around the corner. The road was open; rows of pretty, decorated beach houses lined the sides with cars parked out front of their porches or tucked away safely in driveways. The first house on the corner was huge, buried in wildlife and lawn chairs and an old tire swing hung from the tree branch of a large oak, its worn yellow twine caked with sap. A group of young children were gathered around it, crying in delight as they took turns pushing and swinging. One of the kids, a small mousy girl in a pink tank top, waved at you with a toothy grin. You smiled and waved back.

Here, the sun came slantwise through the trees across the road and made long gold stripes of light along the pavement. You walked along one of the gold stripes, watching your incredibly tall shadow walking before you. You heard Yoongi snort and you blushed, realizing you must have looked childish, like one of those kids playing back at the tire swing.

Your own house resided towards the end of the road, just by the narrow, sandy pathway that led out to the beach. Three houses down to be exact. It had been a long time since any of the boys had been to your parent's house and Yoongi's presence brought up the memory of your birthday when you had invited them over to celebrate. You remembered playing man hunt that night–a game you loved to play down at the shore, since the neighborhood was relatively safe and it offered many great hiding places amongst the bushes and trees. And since it had been your birthday, you had been tasked with tracking down your coworkers whilst guarding a lone pepsi can that sat in the middle of your driveway. Your eyes darted across your surroundings, recalling almost all their hiding spots with ease. Because on top of being an amazing sandwich maker, you were also a master at manhunt.

Jin had been the first to be found. The shopkeeper had been hiding behind a hoard of garbage bins, head tucked into his knees and hands folded over his head in a crouching fetal-position.

"Jin! I see you!" You had called and then raced after him as he attempted to flee.

"Seeing isn't enough! You gotta catch me first!" He had called back, speeding down the street in a blur of white. And you did. Catch him, that is.

Jungkook and Taehyung had been found next. The youngest boys thought they'd been smart by posing as friends on someone else's porch, but they had been too still and too quiet for a couple of teenagers on a Saturday night.

"Taehyung! Jungkook!"

"Oh shit!" Taehyung had faltered as you placed a hand on his shoulder and tagged him out.

"I told you we shoulda hid in the garden." Jungkook mumbled, pouting.

Jimin had been squatting in the thick of a bush, shielded by dark leaves and twisting prongs. You had had difficulty finding him amidst their shaded protection, but the glint of his corn colored hair had been a dead giveaway under the moon's radiant glare.

"Jimin!" You had yelled out, then paused, noticing he had been having trouble untangling himself. "You ok?"

"Yeah... just... gotta...shit, I can't move. Ok. You got me." He frowned in defeat.

You had laughed as you helped pull the poor boy out from the tumble of gnarly branches.

Namjoon and Yoongi had been the last to be found. The two older males had sought cover from beneath your patio, chests pressed tightly into the dirt. You may have never discovered them if it weren't for Namjoon who had freaked when a garden snake slithered over his burly hands. He had howled so loud you almost thought he'd been seriously wounded or something.

"Shut up! She's gonna find us!" Yoongi had knocked him over the head and shushed him but it had been too late. Once their hiding spot had been revealed, the two boys had dashed in opposite directions in attempts to throw you off, but Namjoon had tripped over his own feet and Yoongi--once again, god-bless him--had stopped running in order to help him up.

"Can you not be a total klutz for two seconds?" The older had muttered, eyeing Namjoon with contempt.

You had looked at them with a triumphant smirk, pride oozing from your eyes as you had gazed upon your captured prey.

Now all that had been left was...

"I did it!" Hoseok had whooped joys of victory as he kicked the can on your driveway and sent it flying into the trees.

The satisfaction on your face wavered as the gardener gathered you up in his arms and twirled you around in a fit of giggles. You'd let your guard down for seconds, not realizing it was just long enough for Hoseok to emerge from his hiding spot and sprint through the night time breeze like a fucking gazelle. Damn those long legs.

"Where were you hiding?" You had moped, lip jutting cutely in his arms.

His eyes had twinkled with stars as he placed your feet back to earth. "It's a secret."

The faintest smile ghosted your lips as you were pulled back to the present. He never did tell you where his hiding spot had been.

The blare of your porch light signaled your arrival so you stopped and turned toward Yoongi who was looking at your house as if he too were recounting a good memory. You hugged your arms sheepishly and rocked on the balls of your feet, not knowing whether you should say something or wait for him to speak first. Feeling your gaze, he turned his head and fixed his eyes with yours.

"Here we are." Yoongi said.

"Here we are..." You repeated. "Um... thanks–for walking me home I mean."

He grinned. "Sure. Don't mention it.".

Your throat felt swollen as you swallowed. "Right. So... see you tomorrow?"

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. No more words were forming in your brain, so you turned on your heel with a wave and began to ascend the staircase.

Then you remembered.

"Yoongi, wait! Your hoodie!" You called, lifting the hem over your stomach.

Yoongi looked over his shoulder and smiled wide, the largest one you had ever seen him wear. "Keep it. It looks better on you."

You stood there, dumbfounded as he once again commenced his retreat and disappeared down the road. You stayed planted in your spot even well after he was out of view, twirling your hair like a ring around your fingers. You grimaced, suddenly annoyed with yourself. What were you, a lovesick school girl?

With a second glance at the empty street, you turned and walked up the stairs to your door. You paused in front of it, staring at your reflection in the crystalline glass–you did look cute, in an elfish-sort of way– and smiled stupidly before shoving your keys into the lock. The door gave a subtle 'creak' as you pushed against it and let yourself in. Right as you stepped inside, you were met with another set of wooden stairs that led to the kitchen and your parent's room while on the ground floor was your own bedroom and a bathroom. The air smelled like palm and floor cleaner with a hint of honey, a comforting and homely scent that reminded you of your mother. She liked things clean and tidy. You sighed, feeling the weight of your day leap off your shoulders and disappear into the dark of your home.

Flicking on the lights, you tossed your neck to the side and generated a ripple of cracks that rolled through your spine. God, you were drained. Some alone-time was long overdue. You sniffed your clothes and shuddered, the smell of meat and cheese invading your nose. I guess let's start with a shower... and a change of clothes.

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Red lights flashed through your eyes. Broken bottles littered the ground, their shards of glass glinting angrily and the whir of a ceiling fan pierced through the room. The sounds of sirens blared aggressively in your ears like someone was screaming bloody murder. You felt dizzy, the taste of alcohol rose from your throat and a horrible smell like rotting garbage filled your nose. There was a knock on your door and then a streak of light filled the dark, the sound of footsteps echoing in its wake.

Suddenly you felt yourself moving, waving side to side, your brain rattling in your skull as you were lifted in the air. Everything hurt, your body heavy as it sunk into a hard, padded surface. The slow beat of your heart pounded in your head and your breathing had faded into a shallow hum amidst your ribs. You squinted. Although your vision was blurry, you could make out a huddle of faces peering down at you, their features cloudy and smeared.

'What is happening?' You wanted to shout at them, though nothing came out. You had the need to turn over and vomit, but your stomach was empty and your muscles were limp so you let out a strangled groan of pain instead.

Someone shook you, their hands careful not to hurt you, however, strong enough to send a jolt through your listless frame.

"L/N-san!" From somewhere your name was called.

Who's that? Who are you? What's going on?

Your mind started to blank and the world spun, turning white; a hot white that struck your nerves with searing agony.

Make it stop. Please.

A pair of hands lifted your shirt, their fingers like ice against your burning flesh and from somewhere else another pair of hands smacked your face. Your eyes rolled, unable to focus. A foreign voice barked orders you couldn't understand, their tone frantic and demanding. A slew of other unfamiliar voices answered followed by a repetitive beeping that made your head ache. Then there was a pressure of some kind of object on your chest, it was smooth and cold like metal. It rested on your skin like pools of solid water and you shuddered under its icy touch. All of a sudden, electricity surged through you, snapping your back off of the padded surface, fingers curling in convulsion. You gasped out a scream, an explosion of colored dots clouding your vision.

Stop! No more...

You begged for relief, tears streaming down your cheeks as the world was consumed by shadows.

"L/N-san! L/N-san!"

"Fuck!" You jolted upright in your bed.

With shaky hands, you clutched the fabric of your floral white comforter, sweat pouring down your back as you gulped buckets of air. Mouth dry and head pounding, you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples to ease the throbbing pain.

Great. Another dream.

You wiped the sleep from your eyes and stared vacantly around your room, wondering what time it was. By the way the sun glowed weakly, it couldn't have been past 8:00. After stretching your arms you rolled back on your side and combed the covers and pillows for your phone, finding it buried deep beneath the sheets by your feet. You must have thrashed in your slumbers, otherwise you had no idea how it could have possibly ended up there. Tapping your finger against the screen you squinted in discomfort as the light shone brightly in your face.

6:20 am.

A little moan escaped your lips as you fell back into the poofy embrace of your mattress. For a few minutes, you allowed yourself the luxury of lying on the bed, remembering your dream with vividity. Work didn't start until 11:00 and knowing you'd never be able to get back to sleep, you suddenly found a lot of time on your hands.

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A/N

Hope you guys enjoyed the second chapter! Chapters 1-2 were written this summer, so the writing may change from here on out. Just an FYI. Sorry for the wordiness, I'm trying to tone it down.

Cial

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Next⤏

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dragons-bones · 6 years ago

Note

all three of the Thavnair questions for Rereha!

18. How does your character view alchemy?

Generally positively. Rereha’s father is an alchemist; the majority of his most well-known products are cosmetic in nature, including one wash hair dye removal, as well as a line of natural, vibrant dyes for dark hair that are true to color without needing to bleach beforehand. (Synnove is a walking advertisement for it, how else do you think she gets that grass green on dark brown?) Rere’s dad also has a line of high quality restorative potions; they’re the ones the Squad uses exclusively out in the field, and the Immortal Flames contracts with his lab for his potions to supply the Grand Company. Rere had, from a very young age, a very deep understanding of the myriad ways alchemy could be used (and abused, per her dad’s lectures).

The closest thing to a negative connotation Rere might have is that any bubbling brew out in the open gets a wary side eye until she can confirm it’s something innocuous like food. Alchemical brews belong in a proper lab and she will blister someone’s ears should they be experimenting out in the open. Protocol, damnit!

This also means she thinks Thavnairian alchemists are all hacks who wish they were as good as her dad Ul’dahns. No, she doesn’t care the rest of the world holds Thavnairians as the best alchemists. She’s loyal.

19. Do you think your character would cope well under the scathing heat of the desert for a few weeks?

...considering she was born and raised in Ul’dah, y u p.

Listen, after the Squad was cleared of attempted regicide, Rere told everyone she was taking a sennight off from the Warrior of Light business and Ishgard could fucking deal with it, loaded her chocobo up with camping supplies, a bucket of sunscreen, and an enormous cooler full of water, and wallowed in the middle of the Sagolii Desert for eight days going, “I’M FINALLY WARM AGAIN.”

Deserts aren’t scathing, they’re home.

20. Does your character trust Alchemy or Magic more?

It’s pretty equal, especially since she ran off to Gridania and was pretty thoroughly exposed to conjury and just how well it could work healing someone. Probably it’s best to say she trusts who’s using what more; a competent alchemist she’ll trust to do nearly anything, the same with a mage. If you’re a fucking moron, you can stay far the fuck away from her with that potion or spell, thank you very much.

#to-the-voiceless #dt answers things #meme stuff #final fantasy xiv #oc: rereha reha #thank you for the ask!

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mutantsrisingrpg · 6 years ago

Photo

Congratulations ABBY! You’ve been accepted as IAPETUS.

Choosing between two amazing apps is always a hard thing to do. With Jack, it’s very easy to forget that he still has emotion left within him and to see it crack through in your app made me so happy, Abby! “Alma showed him kindness; he’s still trying to understand how to pay it back with interest.” This line, and more specifically the mention of kindness, pulled me into your app and sold me on him right away. That sliver of kindness can either make or break Jack in this world and I can’t wait to find out. We’re so excited to see both you and him back on the dash!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Abby

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST, 6-7/10 – I’m a full time grad student with a pretty heavy course and research load, so generally I’m busy during the day but my schedule is kind of flexible? Generally speaking I’ll be online every day but either in the early mornings or evenings.

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Jack Mizuno / Iapetus

GENDER/PRONOUNS: cis male & he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Jack Mizuno does not exist. He is a ghost, a dead end paper trail strung together by fraying ties that knot themselves so easily in circles. Jack Mizuno exists in sharp fragments littered against the pavement, indistinguishable from shattered glass; small, sharp, glittering like teeth. He wasn’t always like this – a dark, brooding thing shaking in his skin with a death-rattle that sounds so close to fingers on keys. He wasn’t ever quite human, but none of them were, fundamental flaws cut and cured in the womb and left to fester thereafter.

He lived in years, once. Whole handfuls of them, one right after another, like a fucking feast you never got full of. And then shit got bad – not just for him, but mostly for him within the confines of his adolescent tunnel vision. Years shrunk and shriveled, and sunk and shriveled some more. Sometimes he gets days, most of the time he lives in hours. If he’s lucky he gets a whole week of feeling like a person and not a tool, something to scratch out the cockroaches with when they get stuck in the cables.

He is empty and full. Stretched thin until he’s cracked and bloated, like a goose waiting to lose its liver for a main course. What did he expect? Jack has secrets, knows secrets, has seen and buried the terrible things mutants will do to and for each other in the name of survival. Most of them don’t belong to him. There has to be somewhere for it all to go.

Before Alma held him up by his hair and gave him a choice that wasn’t a choice at all, Jack had to make his own purpose. That was difficult, mostly because he didn’t feel he had one. He had a mutation that felt less like a mutation and more like a target blinking in binary. He had a computer. It doesn’t take a lot of brain power to piece together the next logical step. Jack never made a charity about what he could do for other mutants. It doesn’t make him a tin man in the corner banging on his keyboard for oil.

People like to call Jack a robot, it’s fine. They can say whatever they want, it has no bearing on whether Jack has a heart. He has quite a lot of it – heart. Even if half the time he’s shaking so violently he can’t feel it beating in his chest. The heart he holds on to so tightly, you see, is a balm on the coals raked over his skin every time he digs into another putrid crevice of the internet. It doesn’t surprise him, anymore, the human capacity for cruelty. Kindness, though, that’s what gets him every time. Alma showed him kindness; he’s still trying to understand how to pay it back with interest.

Self-preservation is paramount. Jack has been a bottom feeder for as long as he can remember – taking the ugly, awful work law enforcement doesn’t care for and private eyes find distasteful. It bred in him a fine-tuned intuition, sharp as a knife’s edge. He knows when to take the money, when to ask no questions, and when to disappear. Disappearing is an art like any other, and Jack is exceptionally good at it. A fool’s errand is inviting Jack into your life and thinking you can keep a secret from him after. He’s not curious, he’s careful. Thorough. He leaves nothing and then less to chance.

The knife’s edge is double sided – Jack has a flighty, nervous nature to him that he stamps down with caffeine and cigarettes. It doesn’t go away, and dampens at the expense of his better judgment, but doing so sweeps down the hair at the back of his neck and stills his fingers when there’s work to be done. Jack is a shark; stop swimming for too long and he’ll sink straight to the ground.

BIO:

Everyone expects it to still be snowing in March. Chicago, they say, with an endeared little smile and the flat ah to tell you without telling you they’re a native, winter from October to April. In 1989, March rained. Buckets of it for more days that most folks bothered counting. March was a gust at the end of winter just warm enough to make it miserable. Jack was born smack in the middle, when the city was drowning.

Jack’s mother was a nervous woman and his father was a ghost. He wondered, later, if that anxious constitution was something inherited from the womb; if his mother’s uneasy heart set in his a parallel double-step from conception. Perhaps it was imparted later, swallowed up by Jack’s open pores exposed early to the lined up bills on the kitchen counter, angry locks that stuck in the cold, and trembling hands over thread-bare collars.

His father was the kind of ghost that lingered heavy, an almost-hand that threatened above his shoulder and the doorway. More than once Jack wondered what he inherited from his father, what strange neuroticisms – or, indeed, mutations – he left in place of a hand print. It’s the only secret Jack has refused to recover.

School passes unremarkably. Jack is neither the bully nor the victim; insignificant enough to slip under the radar and glaze by. Not a top student. Not struggling. Lost in the waves that ebb through the blown-out halls, into the rusted chairs, out onto the buses that only run on hope and cold air. It’s all very – fine. It’s fine. His mother comes home with a hand in his hair and a question about his day she doesn’t wait to hear the answer to. His school work is swept aside to make room on the table to count what they’ve lost and earned for the day. When he’s old enough, Jack will drop his books to do the same.

They don’t quite get that far.

See, Jack doesn’t have a flash-bang mutation. There’s no schoolyard scuffle that goes from rowdy to lethal like the flip of a coin and gets the whole neighborhood straight on the news. His is a slow crescendo, and goes like this: His mother is spending laters nights at work, which means a locked door at home and the silent command to find something to do with his time. He’s about fourteen – not old enough to work somewhere safe but too old to be knocking on neighbors doors alone and hungry.

He settles for the library next to school. It’s warm, well-lit, and they have a computer. Jack only gets to go on those an hour a day at school. He noodles around when he’s bored of his homework, stumbles on things he shouldn’t but doesn’t know any better to avoid – or, rather, doesn’t know aren’t normal. He’s smart and stupid enough to keep this to himself, age up into high school with this secret tucked under his tongue; wait until the conversation has already turned to mutants before he dares to bring it up on his own. He doesn’t tell his mother, just yet, wants to know for sure that what he can do is something he can also control. Jack isn’t afforded that chance, either.

Eviction notices were a big red staple of Jack’s childhood – taped to the door or slipped quietly underneath it. It’s only when he’s fourteen with a head on fire that their landlord finally follows through. Jack comes home to the door wrenched open and their meager belongings scattered or gone. He finds his mother in a house down the street – an aunt’s maybe, or a distant cousin’s – with her face in her hands and shoulders shaking. It goes like that for some time, drifting just the two of them, until Jack comes back to their newest makeshift home and finds her gone.

What comes next is – dark. Jack comes to a week after his twenty-second birthday in an apartment reminiscent of his childhood, wearing clothes he doesn’t really recognize but smell like him. There might be someone in his bed. He might be squatting. He shut off for a while, he isn’t sure. The laptop left open on the floor is definitely his – it has his fingerprints all over it. Digital, mostly, but there’s the odd smudge that gives way to physical ownership. This is what he has now, neck deep in the chasm of loneliness: a keyboard and a client list a mile long.

It goes like this for some while. Jack stays in his probably-not-legally-rented apartment, waiting for the people who know how to find him, well – find him. Most of them pay well. He takes what feels safe and keeps himself warm, but freelancing for strangers with an envelope of cash is a near-vertical learning curve. Jack has an edge, but he’s also stupid in the early days. He still searches for his mother, when he can. He moves apartments twice and nearly gets taken into two more times beyond that.

The years of smooth sailing and steady income that flow in afterwards makes him arrogant, and reckless. It’s something between a favor and a job that gets him caught – a favor, because, damn him, he cares about the client more than he should, but still technically a job when there’s a paycheck at the end of it. Sentiment makes him desperate, experience makes him careless, and the resource he’d heard Blackburn might have had access to was never even there in the first place.

The first time he met Alma, the only thing Jack smelled was blood – his, probably. His mouth certainly felt full of it. He never had much use for religion in his short, cold life, even if his mother was devout for all of hers. Staring at Alma, one hand in his hair and offering him a choice that wasn’t really a choice at all, he might have almost understood. With a strong hand and an outstretched arm, he remembers the verses and psalms, as he stares at her. They might even feel true.

Jack is not a watchdog, but he’s something close, maybe. Alma offered him a purpose he already had in front of him but didn’t know how to take. There is no doubt Jack’s loyalty to the Blackburn Syndicate runs deep and unwavering. He believes in the cause, acts for the cause, maybe even lives for it. But he is still a solitary creature, and the rising tensions pull tight at his skin.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS: Please expand on at least one of the connections set out in the bio. There can be as little or as much as you want to be written here. We would love to see how you interpreted the connections we set out!

LENOX. Jack has spent time adrift – living through a haze that blurred the lines in his mind. He has no desire to return to that state, ever. He grounds himself in reality, more so than ever. His life depends on truth and the relentless pursuit of it. Lenox is a direct threat to his own stability, and worse, they seem to find pleasure from seeing him squirm under their little games. He hates it, he hates them, and he hates more how he doesn’t really hate it at all. Jack has built his life into a routine, and the illusions annoy him. They set his teeth on edge and give him the shakes for days after, but there’s a reason he hasn’t asked Alma for one of her fists into Lenox’s pretty little face.

ILIE. Jack doesn’t make a habit of sitting on any of his secrets. He tried it, once. He almost bled out on the pavement. The second time he was nearly locked up in a testing facility. So, no, he doesn’t hold on to the transgressions of others any more than he needs to. Chances are there’s some way to spin it in his favor – or, the Syndicate’s, now. It’s – different with Ilie. Jack is meant to be playing nice with the King’s Collective, so says the hand on his leash, but he just can’t help this small amusement. It’s a vice that will get him killed, or worse, he knows. The second he slips Ilie will go running, but it’s so nice to be the one in control for a time. Even if it’s not really enough, only the illusion of it.

RAHIM. Jack isn’t sure quite what to make of Rahim, and that’s a dangerous thing. Jack likes to have the answers – is rather used to it – and doesn’t know what to do with himself when he is left wanting for them. Enter, Rahim. A man Jack is meant to be getting along with, tries to get along with, but can’t quite seem to figure out. They dance around each other, careful, and Jack is unwilling to take the first step forward or back. He’s a watcher, so he watches. He knows it unsettles Rahim, and maybe that makes it all the more worth it. It’s more fun to earn the answers, anyway.

EXTRA:

Headcanons

Jack Mizuno is an alias, easy enough to assume. He told Alma his real name privately after he agreed to his terms, but no one else knows it as far as he’s aware.

He’s left handed; insignificant, but it’s a pet-peeve of his when people point it out like it’s something secret or exciting. There are lots of secret or exciting things about him, this isn’t one of them.

Jack doesn’t define his sexuality in strict terms or labels. He’s more of a convenience person who recognizes he has needs, but doesn’t much care who satisfies them. If he had to choose he might prefer men, but it’s only by a slim margin.

ANYTHING ELSE:

Nope ! ilu

#accepted #accepted: iapetus

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firstade-universe · 8 years ago

Text

Remind Me to Thank Octavia

The campus is positively buzzing at this time of year. The new freshmen are all wide eyed and excited, while the rest of the student body is already settled into their routine. Clarke and Raven have an off campus apartment courtesy of Raven's parents, who constantly throw money at her rather than actually be involved in her life. She is over it though, because she has the Griffin's instead. It is the third Friday of the new school year and Octavia is one of said wide eyed freshman. They have all known each other for years, having grown up in the same town.

“You guys! Come on! Pleeease???” She is currently trying to get the two upperclassmen to accompany her to a party. “It's over on Rosewood. I heard they have the most epic parties.”

“That house is better known as Ragewood. And the parties are epic.” Raven nodded. “I went to one last year and I was sure that I saw a unicorn the next day.”

Clarke hummed. “Technically you did. They stole the prize mustang from Polis U and dressed it like a unicorn in a Katy Perry video, then charged $5 per photo with it.”

“See, epic! Come on guys!” Octavia whined from her spot on the chaise lounge.

“I have a writing intensive, and my first paper is due Monday. Sorry O. Next time.”

The younger brunette turned to Raven. “I plain just don't want to. I'm working on building this badass computer right now.”

“You both suck.”

“We know. You have other friends that go here too, you know.” Clarke shrugged and took a sip of water.

Octavia breathed out a heavy sigh. “Atom and Ontari are going too.”

“Great! So crisis averted.” Raven clapped her hands and stood from the couch. “I'm going back to my room.” She left the room quickly and the two remaining girls sat quietly for a few minutes.

“So.” Octavia turned to face Clarke. “How true is the rumor that Lexa Woods, resident of Ragewood, picks a new girl to fuck like a god every party? Sometimes two girls?”

“I'm not sure about the sexual escapades of a stranger, but that's the rumor.” Clarke raised her brow. “Thinking about experimenting with women?”

Octavia shrugged. “I can't deny that there has been times when I have wanted to fuck a girl.”

“Well, from what Wells told me, she picks the drunkest girl or girls at the party, so she sounds shade as fuck to me. Maybe pick someone else to experiment with, O.”

“Fair.”

Five Hours Later

Octo-Menace calling…

“O? Why are you calling me at two in the morning?”

“Clarkey, I'm very drunk and Lexa says we have to go to bed now, but I don't want to.”

Clarke stood up like a bolt, throwing her brush onto the water cup and searching for shoes. “O. Are you still at the house? The Ragewood house?”

“Yeah Clarkey. I'm very soft and this bed is very drunk.”

The house that the party was at was only about 6 minutes from her apartment. She ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, foregoing the elevator. “O, I need you to keep talking to me, okay?”

“Mmkay Clarkey. Did you know my brother loves you?”

“I know. We've had this conversation, we both think it's gross.”

“He's so stupid.”

“He really is.” She made it to the parking garage and ran to her car. “How is it that he gets straight A’s if he's so stupid?”

“I don't know.” Clarke slid into the driver seat and started the car, slamming it into gear and accelerating as fast as she could. She was pissed. Who the hell does this Lexa think she is. This is not okay. Octavia is clearly too drunk for anything.

“O, tell this Lexa girl if she lays a finger on you, I’m going to fuck her up.”

“Leeexxxaaa. Clarke says if you finger me she’s going to fuck you.”

“Okay drunkie, pretty sure that not what she said. Time for bed.” This voice was unfamiliar, soft yet firm. Then the line went dead.

Oh, if Clarke thought she was pissed before, now she was livid. She broke every speed limit and blew every stop sign posted in the neighborhood to get there faster. She slammed the car in park just outside the house and ran in. The door of the house was open and the party was still going strong. She found the closest person who looked somewhat sober and asked which room belonged to Lexa. She ran up the stairs, into the hallway to the last door on the end. Locked. She pounded on the door until she heard the lock click. She was then face to face with the most beautiful woman she had every seen, with eyes like emeralds.

“Are you Lexa?” She demanded. The woman nodded. “My friend is in here, about to be your next conquest and I am 100% sure that she is in no shape to offer legal consent to sex with you. So I'll just grab her and take her back to her dorm.” The bite in her tone was unmistakable.

“That's really not the best idea.”

Clarke moved to try to look around Lexa, who was blocking the doorway. “Why? Did you already touch her? That's ra-” The phrase didn't even finish leaving her mouth before she was roughly pulled inside the room by the arm and the door was slammed behind her.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of that. She's passed out in my bed with a bucket next to her if she decides to blow chunks. That's all.”

“Why?”

Lexa shrugged. “I do it at all the parties. Helps me duck out early.”

Clarke scoffed. “Wait. So you're telling me that you have the biggest reputation on campus for casual hookups, and you don't actually hook up?”

“What's your name?”

“Clarke Griffin. Don't change the subject.” The blonde folded her arm across her chest. “So, what, you pick a drunk girl, let them sleep in your bed and tell everyone you fucked their brains out?”

Lexa looked sad at that explanation. “Come over here and sit.” She pointed to a couch on the other side of the room. Clarke hesitantly followed, eyeing Octavia in the bed as she passed, not sure where this was going. Once they were both seated, Lexa turned toward her and sat cross-legged on her side of the couch. “I am a criminal justice major with a minor in sociology. I'm in the Master's program. I have been watching people my whole life. Reading body language and such. The first time we threw a party here, one of the girls was assaulted on her way home. I saw the guy watching her at the party and I thought he was a creep but I didn't do or say anything. I vowed to never let that happen again. So when we throw parties, I stay sober. I observe and when I see a guy who is looking to target a drunk girl, I swoop in and take her out of the equation. I tell her everything the next day, so she can learn to be more aware of her surroundings. After the first time, people assumed I was screwing them. Even if I were to deny it, it's college and no one would believe me.”

Clarke looked at her for a moment. “Huh.”

Lexa furrowed her brow. “That's… that's all you've got to say?”

“Just…. Just give me a minute.” The blonde held up her finger and pulled out her cellphone. She clicked through it then held the phone up to her ear.

“Niylah. Hey, it's Clarke. Yeah I know it's late, but I need to check a fact on something. Yes, seriously. Okay, okay. Did you or did you not have sex with Lexa Woods. Really? Why's that? I see. Uh-huh. Okay. Yep. Nope, that's all I needed. Thanks.”

“You're a journalism major, aren't you?” Lexa joked.

Clarke shook her head. “Pre-Law actually.”

“Well, do I have a witness that corroborates my story, councilor?” Lexa smiled.

The blonde smiled softly. “Seems so." She paused for a second, looking around. "So what do you do when you bring someone up here?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I hadn't busted in here, interrupting your routine, what would you be doing right now?”

“Oh. Right.” Lexa turned and leaned over the arm of the couch, then leaned back with two glass bottles of coke. She handed one to Clarke, then picked up one of the Xbox controllers on the small coffee table. “I play games. Recently, it's been Fallout 4.”

“So, you save a damsel from an unknown distress, then come up here and veg out?” Clarke raised an eyebrow.

Lexa just shrugged. “You got a better idea?”

“Not really. So you said it wasn't the best idea to take Octavia home right now? Why?”

“She's underage. One of the guys on the ethics committee texted me earlier and told me they had sobriety checkpoints outside the dorms.”

“Oh. I can take her back to my place.”

“You guys are that kind of friends, huh?” Lexa waggled her eyebrows. “That's why you went all mama bear?”

“Gross!” She playfully slapped Lexa’s shoulder. “No we're not.”

“Not into ladies, huh?”

Clarke raised her eyebrow at the question. “Oh, no. I most definitely am. Just not Octavia. She basically my little sister.”

The brunette didn't reply, just hummed along in understanding. She reached over and grabbed the second controller, turned it on, then handed it to Clarke.

“Oh, I don't really play games.”

“In regards to the video or the life variety?”

“Both.”

“Good to know.” Lexa didn't look away from the screen, just smirked. Damn that’s a sexy smirk. Clarke thought to herself. “Lego’s or Star Wars?”

“Um… Star Wars Lego's? Is that an option?”

“Oh, beautiful and nerdy. I don't even feel bad dropping the $40 to make that happen.”

One hour later

“Lexa! Those are my bricks, you cheater!”

“You snooze you lose, Clarke.” The blonde then reached over and smashed the buttons on Lexa’s controller. “Hey. You made me fall off the ledge!”

“Serves you right! Steal my bricks and you deserve to be punished.”

“Yes, Wanheda.” Lexa whispered.

Clarke looked at her and paused the game. “What did you just call me?”

“Wanheda. It's from a made up language in this book I read. I means ‘Commander of Death.’ You did just fling my character off a ledge, Clarke.”

“Fair enough.”

Octavia began to stir and drew both girls attention. She had been lightly snoring for the past hour and a half. When Lexa had placed her in the bed, she placed her on her side, so if she did begin to throw up, she wouldn't choke on it. Her phone was ringing for the past few minutes, but neither girl heard it. Clarke's phone rang next.

“Hey Bell.”

“Please tell me you are at that party with my sister.”

“Yeah, I'm here. Why?”

“Really? It seems awfully quiet for a party.”

“O is passed out, and I'm in one of the rooms with her.”

“Is she okay? Do you need help? I can be there in ten and help you get her home.”

“No! Um. No, we're fine. I have help. I'm just going to let her sleep it off.”

“Have you been drinking? I don't like the idea of you guys basically in a frat house alone.”

“I haven't been drinking. We're perfectly safe, I promise.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Bye Bell.”

Lexa had got up during some part of the phone call and placed a bottle of water and two aspirin on the table beside Octavia. When she sat back down, she sat closer to Clarke that she had been before. Clarke noticed, and she didn't mind.

“That was her overprotective big brother.”

“The one that's in love with you?”

“Yeah him. How'd you know that?”

Lexa pointed to Octavia. “Drunk girls give you a lot of information. Also, they say the funniest shit. One time I was helping these two girls up here and one of them looks to the other, and I swear, in a perfect impression says, ‘It’s the Claaaww. Monica, we've been chose. Oooh.’ just like the aliens in Toy Story.” Lexa laughed and looked to Clarke who had a smile slowly creeping across her face. Then she finally released a side splitting laugh.

“No!” Clarke shook her head and wiped a year from her eye. “That didn't really happen.”

“It did. I swear!” The laughter died down some and the girls relaxed back into the couch. “So, what were you doing before Octavia called you?”

“Painting.”

“Like in a home improvement way or an artist way?” Lexa raised a questioning brow.

“I'm an artist. Well I like to think I'm an artist.”

“Huh.” Lexa looked deep into her eyes. “Artist, lawyer, nerd and secret video game savant. What can’t you do, Griffin?”

It was Clarke's turn to smirk. “Are you actually flirting with me?”

“Do you not want me too? I can stop.” Lexa stammered seriously.

“No, no. Carry on. I was just making sure. I have been awake for oh, I don't know, 22ish hours. I could have been mistaken about your flirting.”

“Well, you're not.” The brunette leaned in slightly. “Not at all.” Her face was about three inches from Clarke's as she reached around her to grab her own phone from the side table. She pulled back quickly, and looked at the flustered blonde. “Want another drink. I have some water here, you look thirsty.”

Clarke reached over and shoved Lexa’s shoulder. “Asshole. Try a move like that again and see what happens.”

So, being one to never back down from a challenge, Lexa did exactly as she had done before. This time though, Clarke's hand found purchase on the back of her neck and the blonde leaned forward to press their lips together. Lexa immediately moved to deepen the kiss, while shifting so that she was kneeling between the blonde's legs, while Clarke's back was against the arm of the couch. She moved one hand to the hip beneath her and brushed her thumb across soft skin, just above the waistband of the artists jeans, which earned her a tiny gasp. It was just enough of a gasp to grant Lexa’s tongue entrance. As their tongues met, the battle for dominance began, neither girl wanting to relinquish control. The brunette decided to play dirt and moved her other hand to the opposite hip. She backed up slightly, still on her knees. Then with her firm grasp on the now slightly exposed hips, she pulled Clarke toward her, making her slide until she was laying completely on her back. She thought it would be enough of a distraction, but Clarke was focused, relentless. So Lexa pulled back.

“Why do I feel like I will never win with you?” She questioned quietly, thumbs stroking over the soft skin above hips, lips hovering just above lips.

Darkened blue eyes bore into her. “You won’t unless I want you too, but you’ve already gotten further than the last dozen or so people that have tried to flirt with me.”

Lexa dipped to kiss her chin, then up her jaw, under her ear, down her neck. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmmm. Yeah. But I’m sure you do this pretty often, so you aren’t used to losing.”

Lexa bit down slightly on the blonde’s pulse point then soothed it with her tongue. Clarke’s hands slipped into wavy brown locks, as she moaned just loud enough to be heard. “I haven’t done this in a while. Nearly two years.”

Clarke gaped at her, and her back to face her. “Really?” She received a nod. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Well, why me?”

Lexa shrugged. “You make me feel lighter. Happier. Even if I have only know you for about two hours. I can tell you’re special.” Blue eyes shone with the explanation.

It was obviously that moment that Octavia sat straight up in the bed and looked around. The women sprang apart, clearly embarrassed by being caught.

“Clarke? What are you doing here?”

Clarke cleared her throat, stood and made her way over to the bed. “You called me. Do you remember that?”

“Sort of. I remember drinking and dancing with Atom, then Lexa.” She leaned to look around Clarke and gave Lexa a shy wave. “Then ranting about Bell to you. Then nothing.”

“How are you this sober for someone so drunk just a while ago.” Lexa asked from her spot on the couch.

“Metabolism of a goddess.” Both Clarke and Octavia chimed at the same time.

“She’s cool off a nap and some water. It pisses me off, if I’m being completely honest. She basically never has a hangover.” Clarke elaborated.

“I see. Well, Clarke, would you like to do the honors, or shall I?” She gestured to Octavia, who looked confused.

“Oh, no. I wasn’t here. By all means.”

“Shit. What did I do. I know my body well enough to know I did not fu-”

“Hold up.” Lexa began, standing and making her way next to the bed. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t bring girls up her to have sex with them. I do however watch everyone at these parties and look out for the women that I think are too drunk to be coherent. Last night, that unfortunately, was you. Your friends left and you were very drunk. There was a guy watching your every move so I brought you up here.”

“So you’re like, a drunk girls knight in shining armor?”

“Eh. No. I just don’t want anyone to end up getting hurt. It happened once, never again. So please, if you are going to go out and get hammered, take real friends with you. People who won’t leave you behind. I don’t want you to go through what Costia did.” Lexa looked at the younger brunette sadly and Octavia nodded her head.

“Thank you. Clarke, can you take me home please?”

Clarke smiled softly and handed over her car keys. “Of course. Can you give me and Lexa a moment please?” The younger girl left the room quickly, clearly embarrassed. Lexa sat on the bed and sighed loudly as Clarke moved in front of her. She reached out and lifted the brunette’s chin until their eyes met. “You and Costia were together weren’t you?” Lexa didn’t answer, just stared at her with sad eyes. “That’s why you haven’t been with anyone all this time?”

“We were dating for a few months. She was nice, sweet, I met her the summer before the school year started and we happened to both be coming here. She came to the party and I asked her to stay the night here, but she said no because her cousin was with her. At some point, they lost track of each other and… Costia. She was really drunk. I saw the guy watching her when we split up to look, but I shrugged it off. I found her cousin, but she had wondered off. I got a call the next morning from the police. She moved back home and broke up with me a week later. I felt responsible for so long, I had to see a councilor. She helped me realize that it wasn’t my fault. I talked to Costia in the spring and she told me she didn’t ever blame me, and that definitely helped.”

Clarke was rubbing small circles with her thumbs on Lexa’s neck. “And you think I am special. You have no idea.” She whispered. Then she lean forward and pressed her lips to Lexa’s forehead.

Green eyes found blue when the blonde pulled back. “Can I, uh. Can I get your number? I’d very much like to get to know you better.”

“Here.” Clarke handed over her phone. “Text yourself so we have each other’s numbers.”

Clarke left and headed back home with Octavia. When she finally woke the next morning, she looked at her phone and found one text message.

[Unknown number 7:21am] Remind me to thank Octavia for getting drunk at our party.

#clexa #clexa fanfic #clexaweek2017 #clarke griffin #lexa #enemies to lovers

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ecotone99 · 6 years ago

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[HM] Beary Nice

Beary Nice

“An’ Sunday night, mommy made hot chocolate and we drunk it by the fireplace!” Cassie held up a polaroid picture of herself seated on what appeared to be a fold out sofa bed covered with what looked like very old and very stained “My Little Pony” sheets. In one hand she held a mug that proclaimed “World’s Greatest Grandma” and in the other she held a death grip on a small brown teddy bear with big goofy eyes and a red bow tie. “And Beary had a beary good time!” she finished with a giggle.

Cassie, like many of the kids in Mrs. Bloomer’s first grade class, was very fond of their class pet, a stuffed teddy bear Mrs. Bloomer introduced to them as “Beary Nice”. During the week, Beary sat in a little rocking chair by Mrs. Bloomer’s desk, and every weekend one of the children got to take Beary home and would later report on what they did together.

Mrs. Bloomer forced a smile. “Very good Cassie, thank you”. The little girl sat down, a smile beaming from her dirt-smudged face. “Well, it looks like Beary Nice had a good weekend with you. Thank you for taking care of him Cassie. Well, lets see, whose turn is it to take him home this weekend…” Mrs. Bloomer turned to the chart on the wall, though she already knew who was next. She’d been dreading this day all year. Dakota’s turn.

Dakota was already waving his hand wildly and making an “ooh” sound. Mrs. Bloomer gritted her teeth and turned to look at him. His long, filthy blond hair stood out starkly against the faded black AC/DC T-shirt he’d been wearing the last three days. Dakota was at least two years older than everyone else in the class and, given that he couldn’t even begin to read, he was likely going to be back in 1st grade again next year. He had, however, developed an even stronger attachment to Beary than most of the other children, to the point where he sometimes interrupted class to ask questions about the bear- “Does Beary have a daddy?” or “Does Beary cuss?” ”Yes…Dakota. I think its your turn.” Mrs. Bloomer said at last.

“I know it is Miss Bloomer! I counted the days from the start of the year and this is the 84th.” He smiled back at her, his crooked yellow teeth taunting her.

“Yes... Well, its almost time to go, so why don’t you go get Beary from his chair. Now remember you have to be nice to him.”

“We’re gonna shoot my dad’s gun!” Dakota announced loudly as he seized the bear roughly from its chair. The rest of the class laughed. Mrs. Bloomer sighed and realized she would probably never see Beary Nice again.

*********

On Monday, Dakota didn’t bother coming to school. When Tuesday came, he actually showed up for school, and, as Mrs. Bloomer feared, Dakota failed to return the bear. “He’s okay, I left him home watchin’ cartoons with my mama” he said reassuringly. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow.”

On Wednesday, once again, Dakota failed to produce the bear. Mrs. Bloomer decided to not make a scene during class, and instead asked Dakota to come see her before he went to recess. When he approached the desk, his face was already red and a look of consternation filled his normally impish face, so Mrs. Bloomer proceeded with caution.

“Now Dakota…You made a promise to bring Beary back. Why haven’t you done it yet?” Dakota fidgeted and looked down at his feet.

“Dakota, you have to bring Beary back. He is probably very lonely sitting at your house by himself.”

“He aint there by his self. My mama’s there with him.”

“Well be that as it may…” ”Miss Bloomer, Beary told me he don’t wanna come back here. He said he likes it at my house. Can I have him?” Dakota’s grubby face peered up at Mrs. Bloomer pleadingly.

“Uh…No, Dakota, we can’t do that. He belongs to the whole class.”

”But I love him Miss Bloomer. He wants to stay with me. . Please Miss Bloomer.” Tears began to well up in Dakota’s eyes.

“Dakota,” Mrs. Bloomer cleared her throat and looked away momentarily, “We …You need to bring Beary Nice back.” Dakota’s eyes dropped and tears began to roll down his cheeks, leaving brown streaks of dirt as they fell to the floor. He nodded and walked out the door. After she was sure he was gone, Mrs. Bloomer quietly locked the door and dug through her purse for the tiny bottle of Crown Royal she kept hidden in the middle pocket.

*******

The bell rang to begin class on Friday morning. After missing school Thursday, Dakota was back, seated in his chair, making faces at the boy behind him and laughing. Mrs. Bloomer had already decided to not make a scene by asking for the bear in front of the other children. As she got up to call role, a little girl raised her hand.

“Yes Rachel?”

“Do I get to take Beary home this weekend?”

Mrs. Bloomer gritted her teeth and swallowed. “We’ll talk about that later.”

The little girl pressed the issue. “But Mrs. Bloomer, its my weekend. We were gonna take him to the zoo.”

Mrs. Bloomer swallowed hard, gauging Dakota’s reaction. He was looking agitated, glaring at the little girl and wiggling around in his desk uncomfortably.

“Rachel, I said we’ll talk about this later.”

“No fair!” the little girl pouted. “Dakota was supposed to bring him back!”

“No!” shouted Dakota, giggling.

“Dakota! That’s very rude.” Mrs. Bloomer glared at the boy. “Dakota, see me at recess.” The boy stood up and grinned at her and shook his head.

“Dakota, sit down. Do you want me to call Mr. George?”

He shook his head again, then between giggles said, “You aint ever gettin' Beary back”.

“Dakota-“ ”He’s dead. He’s in hell with my daddy.”

“Dakota!” Children gasped around the room. Cassie started crying loudly. Mrs. Bloomer pressed the button to summon a principal to the classroom. “Dakota, sit down. You are in big trouble.” The little boy shook his head again, violently, his dirty hair flailing wildly around his head.

“You want Beary?” Dakota said, laughing maniacally. “You can have him!” Dakota reached deep into his G.I. Joe backpack and triumphantly yanked out what appeared to be a big piece of steel wool. He flung it at Mrs. Bloomer, who narrowly avoided the projectile, causing it to bounce off the white board and land on the tile floor with a plastic clacking sound. The room fell deathly silent as a smell of smoke and ash filled everybody’s nostrils. Staring back at the class were a pair of big melted plastic eyes.

“I burned him just like I burned my mawmaw’s cat!”

The next few minutes would forever be a blur in Mrs. Bloomer's memory. Dakota fell to his knees laughing while the other children screamed in horror. Leaping with almost preternatural speed, he snatched a bucket of safety scissors from Mrs. Bloomer's desk, and flung it around his head, sending scissors flying in every direction, all the while laughing and laughing and laughing. The children in the front row dove behind their desks, while those in the back just wailed. Somewhere in the distance, Mrs. Bloomer thought she heard a dog barking. She remembered a knock at the door, then the sound of old hinges squealing as it was thrust open, then Principal George's booming voice. Dakota, still laughing, dove for the classroom window, but was too short to get over the windowsill, and crash landed on his back. Mr. George grabbed him by the collar and drug him away, the sound of his heels squeaking on the vinyl floors barely audible over his laughter. Mrs. Bloomer stared dumbly as he disappeared into the hallway, his eyes bloodshot, his cheeks wet with tears, and his mouth agape and curled with hysterics as he laughed and laughed and laughed. It was over. Mrs. Bloomer looked around the room. Children were still crying, but started to take their seats. They looked to her for guidance. She stood, meaning to say something, but the words just weren't there. Then she saw it, the charred remains of Beary Nice, blackened limbs akimbo on the floor where Dakota left him. She approached it, toeing at it first, then bent down and took it into her hands. Its melted eyes glared at her accusingly. "Alright, Rachel," she held it out, "You may have Beary this weekend."

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briefbouquetcreatorlove-blog · 7 years ago

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