Tumgik
#[but i'm kinda tired of sitting down and shutting up and getting the shit end of the stick bc i do]
vigil4nted · 2 years
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mmm seeing this come up more than once on the dash so like. genuinely if people have a problem with any n/sf/w, i can keep it off main.  i did purposefully tone it down & take it offsite into oneshot fic writing as well. so like. if this is stuff that genuinely no one wants to see, gonna need people to like tell me. like. directly tell me. to my face tell me. then i can relegate it specifically to a sideblog so only the people who want to see it/engage with it see it.  because like if this is becoming a problem idk. i don’t like sitting here feeling god damn paranoid abt this stuff. kinda flipping that part of my bpd on its head and honestly i’m not really ready to put up with it acting up in the middle of trying to push through a massive depressive episode.  so point is if people are getting uncomfy w/ n/sf/w out on main; speak up. some of it feels really vague-ish and it ain’t jivin with me.
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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year
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So similar to what I last requested but with König? 👀
Ohhh mmyyyy 😍I'm sorry this took so long lol CW: P in V sex, Oral (m receiving), they're both kinda switches idk, and probably terribly translated German (let me know if I got any wrong), creampie, if I missed any let me know, not proofread
König x Fem Reader
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3 months on a mission was too long, simply. He pulled into the driveway, sluggishly getting out of his vehicle with all of his gear still equipped. He dragged his feet to the front door where he was greeted with your beautiful smile.
"Oh, Meine Liebe," he muttered. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, baby," you smiled, looking up at him and wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight hug. "Come on! Get inside!"
You basically dragged him into the house, slamming the door shut behind you. Here you were, pulling a man over twice your body size and weight to your bedroom, and he was happily following along. As you enter the bedroom, you cup his face through his mask, looking into his tired, blue eyes that always held such a loving gaze when he looked upon you.
You reached through the fabric and unbuckled his helmet first, taking it off of him. You kept smiling as you reached down to unclip his vest and holsters, which he ended up having to help you. He softly chuckled at your fingers fiddling with the straps until you finally freed his toned body of it. You took off his arm guards before he was left in his tac jacket. He sighed at the relief, snapping his neck to either side as you heard the bones crack.
"My tired baby," you cooed, standing on your tip-toes to undo the first few buttons of his jacket before finally pushing it off. He leans back, stretching his body before sitting down at the edge of the bed, kicking his boots off in the process.
"Come here, Schatz," he held his hands out across his lap, which you were quick to jump in. You sat for a moment with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, resting on his chest as he rubbed your back, engulfing you with his tight embrace.
You lift the veil, revealing him in his black balaclava underneath. His silver eyes looked into yours, heavy with desire. You lean down, kissing the bridge of his nose until you reach the lower tip. Your thumbs reach up, slowly lifting the mask off of his face. Revealing the handsome face he showed to only you. You kiss every inch of skin that was exposed to you playfully, but lovingly. Slow and teasing. He softly chuckles underneath you before he grasps you jaw with a gentle hand, pulling you into a very heated kiss.
Your hands return the same needy grasp, holding him tenderly as you melt into each dance of the lips. It wasn't long before you were pushing him on his back, taking over the kiss. You sighed into his mouth as he let out little whimpers becoming needy for you. No matter how tired he was, you always found a way to drive him crazy, even in the smallest things you do for him.
You kiss down his jaw, to his neck before sucking on his collarbone. His hips jolted at the sudden pleasure as you nipped lightly on his skin. Your hands snaked under his shirt, easing it upwards to remove it.
"Ah- shit, baby, I missed you so much, meine Süße," he muttered, softly hissing as your nails slightly raked against his abs. At this point, his arms gone slack, held out above his head. You carefully tore the shirt off of him, watching his toned chest heave as he breathed heavily. Your knee found its way between his legs, teasing a little bit of friction to his crotch, as your lips trailed down his Adonis body. You snuck a little nip at his puffed nipple, and the whimper he elicited from his mouth was beyond heavenly. "Bitte-oh, don't tease, baby..."
"Yeah?" you mocked him, a smirk creeping up your lips. "Okay baby..." You licked down his toned stomach, tracing the outlines of his abs before you got to his pelvis. You hurriedly undone his belt before unbuttoning his trousers, and letting his cock spring free, raging with a pearly bead of precum, which you greedily lapped up, reveling in the whiny moans he was making.
He begged for you to take him into your mouth, and you could never say no to those pretty little requests. You giggle as you lick underneath the thick tip of his cock, tracing along the veins underneath it before your supple lips wrapped around it, sucking harshly on it. Your movements were in tandem to his breathless moans, bobbing your head up and down as you gauged his reactions, doing what he liked best. Your hands wrapped around the base, the majority of what you couldn't fit in your mouth, sensually jerking him off in the same rhythm.
"Baby, I am so needy, more, need more of you, please~."
"Mmm," you hum approvingly of his neediness. You scoot back, standing up to rid yourself of your own pants and undergarments before straddling him. You sat on his thick cock, you rock yourself on his length while you spread your slickness along it. His hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises by tomorrow as he shoots his head up, brows furrowed as they silently begged for you to sit on it.
"You... you tease," he rasped as you prodded the tip at your entrance, sinking down just enough to barely rut into you before you sat back up, leaving yourself empty. "Mein Liebling, please don't make me go crazy... You know I need you, right now... Give it to me, Schatz, ahh~."
He clenched his teeth as you sank down halfway, having to slow down to give yourself time to adjust.
You gasp out at the stretch, holding onto his tense shoulders for leverage. "Fuck, König."
"Always so good for me, ja? Feels so fucking good, Maus," he chuckled as he soon held himself up with one hand, one large arm wrapping around your waist, gripping onto the fat of your ass before he started meeting your thrusts from underneath, pushing more of his cock into you making you see stars. You started losing your composure, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your moans soon overpowered his. "Oh? You're already close, huh? Mm.." He growled into your ear as he picked up the pace. Your body went limp, he soon held you up by your knee, stretching your leg out, furthering himself inside of you.
"König! I, oh my God!" you wailed as you felt such a warm wave of pleasure erupting through you like fire and ice, your nails sunk into his skin as you came undone, and he followed soon after, pumping every last drop into you, grunting as he was catching his breath.
"My, my," he chuckled, pulling you down to lay across his chest. Though it was sweaty, you just couldn't care right now. "I missed you, meine Liebe."
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Meine Liebe - my love
Schatz - darling
meine Süße - my sweet
Bitte - please
Ja- yes
Maus - mouse
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tilebytiles · 7 months
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star treatment - a.t. (part 2)
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summary: there's a strange man named alex that has a strange obsession with you, and he makes the strangest offer of your life. word count: 3.2k warnings: none part 1
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You had fallen asleep a while ago. The stars, although breathtakingly beautiful this far out in space, had eventually gotten tiring to look at, and your brain itched for something else. You were still too tense to talk to anyone else on the spacecraft, and Alex was nowhere to be found, although you doubted you'd talk to him anyway. With no methods of entertainment beyond staring out the window, you fell asleep rather quickly, your imagination conjuring up strange dreams about the hotel you were heading to.
The only thing that woke you up was the sound of rustling clothes in front of you. Drowsily, you forced your eyes open and your body to come up onto your feet. You were a little wobbly from trying to do so much so quick, but you regained your balance rather quickly and began to follow the journalists down the narrow aisle between the rows of seats. If there was anything science fiction films had taught you, you should have been floating through that rocket instead of walking. Your feet, however, remained firmly planted on the carpet, a fact that was rather disappointing. Floating would have been cooler.
The interior of the seating area was done in soft, warm colours, offering an inviting atmosphere. The seats were a navy blue with an off-white stripe down the center, and the walls were a shade of pink, something close to salmon, you thought. The floor was done in the same colour, but down the aisle was a red carpet. There weren't many seats, so the rocket could only house a group about the size of this one at any time. You didn't mind; the less people you had to awkwardly avoid, the better.
You realised the giant window at the end of the aisle that you'd thought was for stargazing was actually a port. As soon as you stepped into the giant see-through tube, you heard the door slide shut behind you, sealing you off from the rocket. You couldn't help but marvel at the empty chasm of space that surrounded you, as well as the moon that rested beneath you. From here, you could make out the complex building you were realising was meant to be the hotel. It looked futuristic and retro at the same time, an effect that wasn't hard to achieve; the architecture looked like the kind that was popular in the 70s, providing a sort of nostalgic feel, but it was sitting on the surface of the moon. This definitely wouldn't have been possible in the 70s (you could hardly believe it was possible now).
One of the journalists spoke up, shattering the awestruck silence. "He's a bit mad for doin' all this."
The journalist beside him shrugged. "It's kinda cool, though, don't you think?"
"Well, sure, but imagine having these kinds of funds ... and you waste it on a lunar hotel?"
You hardly knew Alex, but it made you feel a little uneasy to hear someone speaking ill of him. You wanted to speak up, but a third journalist beat you to it. "If anything, he's proving we can even do this kind of shit on the moon. It's better than some of the stunts billionaires have been pulling."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miles," the first journalist grumbled. "Stop kissing his ass."
The journalist named Miles rolled his eyes, then glanced over at you. You hadn't even realised he was walking beside you. He grinned at you and held out a hand for you to shake. "Miles Kane," he said.
You slowly shook his hand. "Y/N L/N."
"You don't exactly seem like the reporter type. What're you doin' up here with this pretentious lot?"
You liked him already.
"Alex invited me," you told him. "I haven't really figured out why yet."
He nodded, seeming to ponder over the information you'd just given him despite it only being two sentences. "I'm sure we'll get along perfectly," he finally said, smiling at you again. "If any of these pricks cause you trouble, just lemme know."
"Thank you." You smiled back at him.
When you made it to the other end of the tube, the door in front of you slid open, allowing your party of prose into the hotel. Your eyes widened once you stepped through the door. The room you were in, which you guessed to be the main lobby, was absolutely gigantic - or at least, it felt that big. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the whole space with sconces mounted on the walls to light up the spots the chandelier couldn't reach. The walls were a warm, perhaps almost burnt, shade of orange, and the floor was made of lush carpet, the pattern almost hypnotising. Squiggles of colour stretched from wall to wall above a black background. The wall to your right, close to the door, held floor-to-ceiling windows, showcasing the moon and the stars in all their glory. To your left was the reception desk, the lift to its left and the stairs to its right. Chairs and tables were scattered amongst the space, providing plenty of spots to sit and rest. Mounted on the wall behind the reception desk was a flat-screen TV. You were impressed it could pick anything up out here.
Your group wandered over to the reception desk, and to your surprise, someone popped out of the door that had an 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' plaque, grinning at you all. "Pleasure to meet you!" he said. "Mr. Turner told me you'd be arriving."
Alex's last name was Turner?
"Hold on," the first journalist from before said, "you mean you've just ... been here?"
The receptionist nodded, still smiling. "We've had more than enough resources to last us, don't worry. And they're replenishable! But we can get into that later."
"There's more than one of you?"
"All the staff were busy prepping for your arrival. We hope you enjoy your stay. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino. My name's Mark, and I'll be your guide for the tour today."
You admired Mark's genuine enthusiasm. Then again, you didn't think it'd be very hard to be enthusiastic about a job like this.
He came out from behind the desk and motioned for your group to follow as he headed for the open doorway across from the door you'd just come through. It opened out into a long hall, branching off into different rooms. "This is where the café is," he said, pointing to one of the sets of doors you passed by. "That's where you'll be eating all your meals, although your options will differ depending on the time of day. That," he said, pointing to another set of doors, "is the gym. There's all kinds of equipment in there, and it's completely free for all guests, so don't be afraid to stop by."
He continued leading you down the hall, pointing at different doors and explaining them. Connected to the café was a greenhouse that provided different types of produce, and it was available to guests ("take a tour or let the little ones learn how to garden!" he had said). There was a library, a laundry room, and even something like a patio at the very end of the hall, allowing you to get as close to the moon itself as you safely could.
When you came back up the hall and squeezed into the lift, Mark explained how the actual hotel rooms would be the last part of the tour; that way, you could all rest as soon as you got to your rooms. Your first stop was the very top of the hotel, where you could see the large hexagonal neon sign spinning slowly on top of its pole. They had built a pool into the roof, complete with a ladder to make getting in and out easy, a diving board, various chairs set up, umbrellas that you weren't even sure were necessary and bathrooms and changing rooms, the latter of which were fully stocked with robes, bathing suits and pool toys.
Heading down a floor revealed the hotel's partial namesake: the casino. The lights were significantly dimmer here than they were in the rest of the hotel, but they weren't so dim that you couldn't see at all. Machines had been pushed up against every wall and were lined up perfectly around the room. It was almost overstimulating, and you were grateful you left when you did, although the aftereffects of all the lights remained in your vision as colourful blobs for some time.
Your whole group was staying on the same floor. You didn't know if you were glad about it or dreading it. At least Miles would be nearby, you thought. He'd been making the occasional quiet joke to you throughout the whole tour, and you did your best to stifle your laughter to avoid dirty looks from the others.
"I'll talk to you later," he said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You hadn't even realised you'd made it to your rooms. His was across the hall from yours. You nodded and flashed him one last smile before unlocking your door with the key Mark had given you and stepping inside.
The room was lavishly decorated. You almost felt guilty for staying there for free. A four-poster bed stood tall, the frame painted a creamy white and the mattress covered in a white sheet. A thin fabric, something like lace, hung from each corner like curtains. The blanket looked soft, inviting, and after many, many hours of being stuck in a rocket and sleeping in a (albeit comfortable) chair, slipping under the covers and taking a proper nap sounded heavenly. You forced yourself to hold off on that nap, though, and continued your exploration of the room.
The overhead light was built into the ceiling, and upon discovering a small remote on top of the chest of drawers across from the bed, you realised the brightness could be changed. There was a floor-to-ceiling window built into the wall across from the door, offering yet another stunning view. The closet that was built into the wall rested to the left of the bed, and to the right was a small nightstand. In the closet, you found all sorts of clothes. At least there was comfort in the fact that no matter what happened, you'd be well-dressed for the occasion. Not far from the nightstand was a door, and when you opened it, you discovered the bathroom.
Ah, yes. It was about time you took a shower.
The water was perfectly warm, and the shampoo smelled lovely. Although it had only been a few days, you still felt gross for having gone so long without a shower; you guessed it was only because you were used to showering every day. When you finished getting cleaned up, you slipped into the cosiest pair of pyjamas you'd ever gotten your hands on and made sure to turn the light off before slipping into the unnecessarily fancy bed.
You wondered what Alex was up to. You hoped you'd see him tomorrow, mostly so you could thank him for inviting you in the first place. Although the concept of a hotel in space still felt a bit mad to you, you were beginning to realise it really wasn't as bad as you'd expected it to be. Maybe you were even a bit proud of him.
•••••
The next morning - at least, you guessed it was morning - you made your first trip to the café Mark had shown you. You had to admit, you were starving. Although you'd been given snacks on the rocket, they were exactly that - snacks. They hadn't been near enough to keep you full, and now your stomach felt like it was going to gnaw its way through your entire body if you didn't get something to eat soon.
A few of the journalists were already in there, including Miles. You headed towards the counter, where the employee behind the till smiled at you. "What can I get for you today?"
"Uh ..." You stared at the imposing menu on the wall, assessing your options. "Can I have the egg croissant, please?"
"Would you like a drink with that?"
"Water's fine, thanks." The employee nodded, punching your order in, and when the small number popped up on the digital screen sticking up from the till, your eyes widened. It was cheaper than you'd been expecting. You quickly fished your wallet out of your pocket.
Once the transaction was complete, you headed for Miles' table and sat across from him. He was scribbling something in his notepad, but when he heard the creak of your chair, his head snapped up. When he realised it was you, he grinned. "Hey, Y/N."
"Hey," you replied. "What are you doing?"
"Writin' down some notes for that article I gotta write. We've been here for less than a day, and I already have enough info to crank out a goddamn essay."
That made you laugh, earning a sideways glance from one of the journalists. It was the one that had been questioning Alex's motives before. You heard Miles scoff, prompting you to look back at him with a raised brow. “Trouble in paradise?”
He snorted. “Hardly paradise with that prick around.”
“Who is he?”
“James Schwartz, also known as one of the biggest dickheads on the planet. Old money - his dad runs the paper he writes for, and his dad ran it before that, and so on. Heard he’s in line for the throne.” He shook his head. “He’s willin’ to do anything for a story. Can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a few months, either.”
“What do you mean, he’s willing to do anything?”
He eyed you for a few moments, as if he was debating whether or not he should unveil James’ moral crimes to you. Eventually, he sighed, leaning back in his chair; so much so that the two front legs rose from the floor. “The best of it, so to speak, is that he flooded some poor shop owner’s voicemail until they phoned him back.”
“And the worst?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze sauntered over to land on James, who’d put a pair of headphones on at some point and remained entirely oblivious to your conversation. Still, to be on the safe side, Miles’ voice lowered, forcing you to lean over to hear him. “He dated a girl, some model from Bristol. A couple of months later, she broke up with him, and then suddenly, her nudes were up on the Internet, free for all perverted fucks to see. He was one of the first to cover the story, and his article painted her in a suspicious light, spoutin’ some shite about how she shouldn’t have let anyone take such compromisin’ pictures of her. She quit modelling not long after. It was never proven to be him, but …” He shrugged and looked back to you.
Your stomach churned at the mere thought of what he’d gotten away with. “Surely someone questioned him?”
“If they did, he probably paid them to keep quiet. Either way-” He dropped his pencil onto his notepad. “-I would stay away from him, if I were you.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice,” you mumbled.
After your food had arrived and you’d satiated your hunger, Miles suggested heading up to the pool for a quick dip. You agreed, although considering you’d just eaten, you didn’t think you would actually do any swimming. This notion seemed a bit funny to him, and he even asked if you were chicken, but he didn’t press the matter any further.
Much to your delight, there were swimsuits in the dressing room, and you slipped into a black bikini on the off chance you hopped into the water. Wrapping yourself up in a plush white robe that had the hotel’s acronym embroidered into the left breast, you stepped out onto the pool deck. Miles was already in the pool, clad in a pair of black swim trunks and swimming from one end to the other, engaged in an intense race against himself. You plopped down onto one of the pool chairs and stretched your legs out, watching as Miles swam to the edge closest to you with a grin. “The water’s lovely.”
“I’d rather not get cramps,” you said, making him laugh. He playfully splashed water in your direction, spraying small droplets onto your calves and the chair beneath you. The water was cold against your skin.
You heard the entrance to the pool open, making you turn and look over your shoulder. Alex stood in the doorway, and when he saw you, he managed a small smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same for you.”
“I was looking for Miles.” He glanced around you and spotted the man in question, who offered an enthusiastic wave that was akin to one from a child. “Mark said you’d be here.”
“You should come join me, Mr. Turner,” Miles replied, assuming an exaggerated air of pompousness. “Have you even tested your own pool?”
Alex seemed to genuinely consider that question for a few moments. His hands slid down into his pockets, and his lips pressed together before finally parting to form the words, “No, I haven’t.”
And with that, he found himself in swim trunks exactly like Miles’ less than a few minutes later. It was the first time you’d seen him in anything beyond his perfectly crisp suits, and it also offered you a chance to admire his physique. His abs were lightly defined, as were the muscles lining his arms; the veins in his forearms protruded, as if all they needed was a small push before bursting from his skin; his legs had about as much hair as you could have expected, and there was a light smattering of hair across his chest. Draped over his chest, sinking into the dips of his collarbones, was a thin gold chain, the same one you’d seen him wear a number of times at the café.
Miles whistled, snapping you out of the spell Alex’s body had put you under. “She’s oglin’ ya.”
“Am not!” you protested, glaring at him.
He only rolled his eyes. “There’s nothin’ wrong with admirin’.”
You didn’t say anything, only crossed your arms over your chest. It wasn’t like you needed to respond, though; the heat that spread across your cheeks like wildfire spoke volumes.
If you were being perfectly honest with yourself - which you did reluctantly - Alex had always caught your eye. You mostly attributed it to the mysterious aura that he was always shrouded in, brought into existence by how little he spoke, how much he kept to himself, and the documents he primarily occupied himself with. Even if you now knew what those documents had been for, there were still heaps of things that remained locked away from you. For fuck’s sake, you’d learned his last name from a complete stranger.
In some ways, his mystery was a siren call, coaxing you in for what you thought might be your untimely demise. If there was anything the piles of romance novels in your flat had taught you, it was that strange men- especially rich ones- shouldn’t ever be trusted with matters of the heart.
As Alex lowered himself into the pool, though, you let yourself ogle for a little while longer.
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queers-gambit · 2 years
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Here’s a little prompt if you are still taking requests
Billy leaves reader at a gas station after an argument and Eddie (or even Steve) show up see them sitting outside on the ground with obvious signs of crying and offer to give a ride home.
(Reader can be the type of person who is kind to everyone just to add that little extra)
ooooohhhh, this one hurt, not gonna lie. slutty angst club - i'm calling you to arms!!
my apologies for how long this has taken me, but depression be WILD and i have the attention span of a squirrel ✨ anyways, thank you very kindly for the request - i hope you like it - and all of my love unto you! 🖤
🍒 requests are now reopened
Natural Instinct
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader, small Steve Harrington x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: (shorty) 3.4k+
note: beef cake beef cake beef cake, author is sleep deprived.
warnings: cursing, significant others fighting, the prompt a.k.a Billy being a dickhead. cutie Steve, Lord's name in vain, and angst. kinda ambiguous ending that i don't know if it counts as comfort or not.
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"Christ on the Cross, Billy!" You gasped, hanging onto the 'oh shit' handle for dear life as the car's tires squealed with exertion. "Can you slow down!?"
"Nah, you know what? You think it's cool to fuckin' bring this back up! Fine, then I think it's cool to drive this fast!"
"Slow down, Billy! Please!" You snapped, enraged by his reckless driving. You could recite statistics to crash crashes like you had it tattooed on the back of your eyes, a slice of information you sought out after dating Billy - perhaps for this reason.
He sighed heavily but begrudgingly did as you bid and slowed down considerably, reducing speed by at least 30 miles an hour. You breathed a little easier, but Billy was snapping, "Why'd you have to bring it back up? Huh? You not tired of your own drama by now?"
"Look who's talking! We wouldn't have any issue if you actually respected this relationship! And I have to bring this back up because Chrissy is still all over you," you snapped in return, truly fed up with having the same fight over, and over, and over again. "I'm sorry it makes me uncomfortable but you know, watching the cheer captain make come-fuck-me-eyes at my boyfriend is really getting old! It's almost like you get off on other women's attention!"
"Doesn't mean I'm doing anything to them in return," he snapped back at you, briefly reminding you of a feral animal as he made a sharp left turn into the glowing lights of the gas station. "Keep your ass there, I'll be a minute," he sneered as he turned the ignition, stepping out of the car and slamming the door with the intent of filling his gas tank.
You felt something in your stomach snap and prickle, making you stand from your seat and let the door shut behind you as you rounded the back of the car, "Billy, we're not done talking about this."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," he sighed, hand slapping to his thigh as a cigarette dangled from his lips.
"Jesus Christ - tell me you're not actually thinking of lighting that!?"
"I'm not fucking stupid!" He snapped, eyes ablaze as he shoved the gas nozzle into his tank. "I told you to stay put! God damn it, can't never do what you're told, huh!?"
"We're not done talking about this and if you think I want to show up at this party with you pissed off to High Heaven, then think again!"
"I'm really not tryna think about you at all," Billy rolled his eyes, scoffing, and turning away from you to lean against his car with his arms crossed defensively.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" You moved around to face him. His eyes refused to meet yours. "Billy, it's just not a good feeling seeing all those cheerleaders throwing themselves at you everyday, and you know it's only to make their boyfriends jealous."
"Or maybe I'm trying to piss you off," he sneered quietly.
"What?" You felt something in your heart crack slightly.
"Just get out of my face."
"Billy! C'mon - "
"Nah, you know what?" His eyes now blazed with anger, making your feet cement to the ground beneath you out of sheer anxiety. "I think I've had more than enough of you for a lifetime," Billy scoffed again, moving to yank the empty nozzle free and set it back to the gas station tank. When he moved for the driver's door, you snapped back into action.
"What's that supposed to mean? Billy!"
"Means I'm done with you! You don't trust me?" He rounded on you. "You think I'm inviting all those bitches closer to me? Then fucking fine, we're done, I'm done, this," he gestured between you deftly, "is done. Find your own way home 'cause I'm goin' to the party without you, I'm sick of hearing you bitch and gripe about this."
"What - wait, wait, wait!" You gasped, watching him drop into his driver's seat, not even sure when he had opened the door.
"Nah, I've fucking had it with you and these fucking insecurities. If you can't trust me, as your boyfriend, then you know what? We ain't got no type of business being together. I'm done wasting my time."
"Billy, don't do this," you tried, already feeling the cold set it - but for your bones to jump when his ignition roared to life. "Billy, please, baby, wait, I'm sorry - I'm sorry, okay - I'm so fucking sorry, baby, please, just wait," you moved with his window as he rolled away from the station. Your instant need to please him, to placate his anger, kicked you into overdrive and made you suddenly regret bringing the entire subject up.
But in truth, you didn't want to go to the stupid fucking party tonight if he was just going to invite the attention of other women in! Was that so wrong? You didn't think so - but based on his current actions, you were beginning to think you were damagingly wrong.
"Yeah, whatever, take it up with someone who's gonna listen to you bitch, whine, and cry the rest of your time," he sneered, rolling his window up, and without waiting for you to move away, pressed on the gas pedal and sped away from you.
"BILLY!" You screamed at the retreating car, feet stalling in the dirt as you look around you. Truth was, you were maybe 5ish miles from town because Kasey Werner was throwing a party in her Granddaddy's barn; leaving you on the outskirts with no ride. "Oh, my God," you panted, pacing for a moment and feeling your heart lurch with panic. This wasn't good...
What you would've given to have one of those portable walkie-talkies the kids you used to babysit for used.
With tears in your eyes, you turned back for the small bodega at the gas station and wondered in. But the only person present was a young lad who didn't speak a lick of English - and you, who didn't speak a lick of Amharic, was unable to communicate your needs properly. He just smiled at you, repeating, "Yes? Gas? Good price!"
Giving up, you moved back outside and looked both up and down the road; feeling your heart drop to your feet when you realized the only lights were sporadic and few between... Leaving you feeling unsure if you could even walk home; not feeling entirely safe.
Shout out your home town of Hawkins for giving you lingering trauma by being some door to an alternate, creepy, slimy dimension!
Dropping onto the curb, you felt the first sob claw its way out of your throat before an entire avalanche of emotion fell over you; leaving you sputtering for breath. However long you sat there, you weren't sure, but you knew you sobbed the entire time as self-pity overwhelmed your body like a tidal wave. Distraught and alone, you felt your options were gone and done, figuring when the wave of desperate sadness passed you'd start to walk - but then, your saving grace pulled up in a red BMW.
You picked your head up when you noticed Steve Harrington stepping out of his car, feeling honest, white-hot shock run through you when he was making a direct beeline for you. You sat up a little and wiped your cheeks, shying away from his inquisitive stare as he reached you and softly mumbled your name.
"Oh, um, hey, Steve," you nodded softly at the boy you had no other contact with outside of that shared, lingering trauma Hawkins put you both through. Him more so, but still.
"Hey, um, so, this might be a dumb question, but are you okay?"
"Well," you twisted your hands together, feeling foolish, "um, B-Billy got kinda mad at me and... Well..."
"Don't tell me he left you here," Steve seethed, sighing as he took the seat on the curb beside you. "Shit, man, c'mon, please, don't tell me. That means I'd have to kick his ass again."
You shrugged, "I don't know, yeah, guess he did leave me here." But then his words registered in your brain, "And I'm pretty sure he kicked your ass, buddy-boy."
"Logistics," He rolled his eyes, waving your words off. "How long ago did he leave you?"
"'M not really sure," you rubbed your hands together. "Enough for the chill to set in, I guess?"
"Oh, my God," he realized, looking you up and down and finding you only in a thin party dress, "you must be freezing - c'mon, come with me," he nodded, standing to usher you under his arm. And in that moment, your mind reared with worry to remind you that your natural instinct to trust everyone made you forgiving and left you wanting to trust all of them; and that perhaps, not everyone was worthy of it.
Not to say you had any reason to think Steve Harrington untrustworthy, but only that you needed to heed caution before jumping into people's cars. Look where your nature got you with Billy - dating a manipulative jackass who couldn't regulate his own feelings for the life of him; someone who always charged you with their own (un)emotional stability; someone who made it your problem if you couldn't be their punching bag and tried to stick up for yourself. Trusting Billy got you nowhere, so, with Steve, it was only 'natural' now that you were cautious.
Steve both felt and noticed your hesitation as it physically portrayed itself in the form of you coming to a halt, spying the tears collecting in your eyes again as your mind screamed at you to use caution - something you didn't heed before starting your fight with Billy. "Hey," he nodded softly, brows gently crinkled with genuine concern, "you all right?"
"I-I'm sorry, but I don't - I don't know you. Sure, we went through all that shit together, but I don't know you - you know? I-I can't just go with you."
"No, hey, it's okay, I know," he sighed, "but seriously, I can't leave you alone all the way out here." He offered a genuine smile - something you noticed Billy rarely did, as he preferred to smirk as it hid most of whatever emotions he had. Oh, shit, here you went comparing Steve and Billy; which, truthfully, was like comparing a sweet Georgia peach to a half-burnt cigarette. When you appeared calmed by his little 'joke', Steve continued, "So, could I please sit you down somewhere warm, put gas in my car, and make sure you get home safely?"
"W-Wh-Why are you helping me?" You worried, shaking from both the cold and expulsion of adrenaline.
"I don't really need a reason to do the right thing, do I?" he asked softly, offering a small smirk. "I know we aren't really friends, but my mother raised me better than to see a woman in trouble and walk away. Least I can do is offer you a ride home in a warm car, right?"
You twisted your fingers together, "Um, y-yeah, okay. Sure, okay, yeah, I'd really appreciate the ride. Listen, I can offer you a few bucks for gas - "
"No, don't even go there, it's not necessary," he assured, smiling brighter then before at you. "I appreciate it, but it's okay, I gotta fill up anyways. Here," he lead you to his car finally after your feet unstuck themselves from the dirt ground, and opened his red passenger door. "Gimme a sec to fill the tank and I'll get the heat going."
"Take your time," you nodded meekly, sitting, and trying to drawl in yourself; to minimize your presence.
Steve didn't take long, and just as he was dropping into his seat, turning the ignition, and cranking the heat, you heard the roar of Billy's Camaro from down the road. Steve took one look at your tearful face and pulled out, heading back towards town; a full minute passing before Billy was tearing back into the gas station - frantic eyes searching for any clue of you.
In the car, you and Steve had settled into a comfortable silence. But he seemed anxious to leave it like that; leaving him to start a new conversation. "So, uh, d-do you mind if I ask... Like, what happened?" ex-King of Hawkins High asked softly, his radio turned down to four to hear you properly.
You shrugged, "I told my jerk boyfriend that I didn't like it when cheerleaders flirt with him because it made me uncomfortable, and he took it as I didn't trust him."
"Well, do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Trust him?"
"I do," you admitted, leaning on your hand pressed to the passenger door. "But that's my personal problem for trusting everyone and not learning when they betray me, show their true colors... Listen, hey, uh, c-can I ask you something, Steve?"
"Shoot."
"Do you think Billy's good for me?"
Steve avoided your eyes, "I don't think I should ans - "
"C'mon, I know you have an opinion. Am I just naïve for trusting him? Please, Stevie, I need someone to help me make sense of it all. I don't even know what I'm feeling, so, please, am I being naïve?"
"No, no, I don't think so. I think you're in love and that can make you wear rose-tinted lenses that filter everything you see, feel, hear, whatever have you."
"Is that bad?"
"No," he assured swiftly, "because being love is really great when you do it the right way with the right person, but sometimes it makes us a little blind. We accept love as we think we deserve it, because we don't know any better, and we don't have other prior experience."
"Right..."
"So, it's not your fault for figuring it out. Maybe you love Billy, and maybe he loves you, too, but that doesn't mean it's 100% healthy. In truth, I don't think any relationship is really going to be 100% either which way, but it's up to us to determine pro's and con's of each."
"How do I know?"
"I don't actually know," Steve admitted, sighing sadly after. "I guess it's one of those things we all have to just figure out for ourselves instead of hoping someone will tell us."
You groaned, "Why can't this just be easy?"
He chuckled a bit, "My mom would say that if things were easy, everyone would do them. Maybe that's why sometimes, it's a choice to be single."
The sigh you heaved was mighty, "Am I stupid for not even feeling angry?"
"You're not angry? But he left you!"
"I know!" You assured sharply, "But I feel more sad than angry!"
"Oh," he deflated a bit, glancing at you, "yeah, uh, I guess I get that."
"He was angry, and I know that makes him irrational, but I'm just really sad that I trusted him and he left me like I was some piece of garbage! I'm angry, sure, but fuck! I'm just sad! Like... Like why was it so easy for him?"
"I don't know," Steve frowned.
"N-No, I'm sorry - I'm not asking you to hold answers to my relationship, I'm just..."
"Sad," he understood, nodding. "Whatever you wanna talk about or say, I hope you feel free enough to in the safety of this car. Whatever you say won't leave this sanctuary."
You sighed gently, "Thanks, Steve... Hey, um, what were you doing tonight?"
"Oh, I dropped Robin and Vickie off at Kasey Werner's, I was coming home," he shrugged some.
"Do you have to pick them up, too?"
"Not until much later," he assured.
"Would you maybe wanna hang until then?" You asked with a sigh. "I just - "
"You're sad," he understood empathically.
"My mom made cookies, if that helps?"
"Oh, I was in before, but now I definitely am!" He laughed. "I swear, your mom's baking could be the solution to world peace!"
You chuckled as he went on a tangent about how your mother's baking was 'legendary'. He told you about how, years ago, he told his mother to start getting his birthday cakes from the hometown bakery since he tried samples during the 4th grade Career Day. You understood better than anyone because your mother was more than talented in the kitchen, but it didn't really translate over to you.
In fact, only half an hour after getting to your house, you and Steve had covered the kitchen in flour as you tried to recreate one of her recipes, while her pre-made dough was divided up on cookie sheets, sitting in the oven to bake. And that was where Billy found you when he burst through your back door; laughing loudly with Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, flour dusting both of your guys' cheeks and hair.
"Billy!" You shouted in shock, hand to your chest to try and calm your erratic heartbeat as he stood there - just staring wildly.
Home security wasn't a thing in the '80s, so, yeah, Billy can just show up at your house and walk in whenever he wants.
"Oh," Steve muttered, sighing as he set one of the mixing bowls aside. "You wanna handle that?" He asked you in a whisper, but your eyes were bulging as you couldn't believe he'd show up like this.
"What? We get in one fight, and you run into some other dudes' arms?" He sneered, glaring at you. "But Harrington, no less? And I gotta find out about it by showing up - "
"Unannounced, uninvited, and unwelcome, I might add," You perked a single brow.
"You had to stoop this low?" Billy growled at you. "Harrington, like, are you serious right now?"
"Hey, dude," Steve muttered sarcastically, giving a short flick of his wrist in the form of a wave.
"Just for your information, Steve's literally only here because you left me, you fucking jackass!" You raged, missing the way Steve smirked as he was waiting for your anger to take over - and it turns out, seeing Billy was the last straw.
"But I came back!"
"That doesn't excuse the fact that you left me all alone - in the cold and dark - with no way home, no way of calling for help!" You screamed as you slowly stalked towards him. "I can't believe you! I tell you that shit you're doing in making me uncomfortable and instead of trying to take the time to understand my point of view, maybe even want to fix it, you just shame me for it! Then got mad as if I caused all this! And then, the cherry on top of of this fucked-up sundae, you LEFT me at a gas station!"
Knowing he wasn't going to win this, Billy held up placating hands, "Hang on, sweetheart, just let me - "
"Don't try to break out pet names now, you fucked this up!" You raged, hands flying with animation. "And now I want you gone - go! Get out of here!" You pushed him towards the door.
"Hang on - "
"No, you know what? You might not respect me, but I'm tired of treating myself like that! So, from now on, I'll do what's best for me, and right now, that's having you gone! You might not respect me, but I sure as shit do, so get out! Get gone! Goodbye!"
Billy scoffed as you pushed him out the door finally, locking it after him as you laid your body against it. Huffing, you looked up to spy Steve in the back of your kitchen, smirking as he nodded before clapping slowly.
"That was - wow," he chuckled, clapping still. "Way to go, superstar. That was pretty impressive to watch. Feeling better?"
"I feel great actually," you admitted. "Is that normal?"
"That's what standing up for yourself feels like," he smirked.
"I like it..."
"Good, ride that high," he advised. "And try to direct all that into baking skills 'cause so far, we're failing pretty miserably."
"Speak for yourself," you teased, pushing off the locked door to venture towards Steve; unaware that Billy laid against the locked backdoor, tears in his eyes and slowly (like molasses slow) dribbling down his cheeks as white-hot guilt overwhelmed his heart, mind, and very soul. Billy wasn't accustomed to this kind of empathy, and it was rattling the stony boy to his core.
Usually, there was anyone else to blame for his fuck-ups, but now, it was only Billy's fault, and it was a harsh realization for the lad.
Another thing he wasn't accustomed to confronting? His accountability.
And when he heard your effortless laugh from within your kitchen, he had to push away from both his heart, mind, and your house with a plan forming each step he walked away from you.
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2braincellslz · 2 years
Note
request for billy x (trans?)male reader do whatever you want with it >:3
Tell Me, Sweetheart.
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Gif by avenging-fandoms
Desc: you, your friend, and Billy hang out for the day after ditching school. After a bit, Billy gets you alone he tells you how he really feels in a unnaturally soft moment.
Ship: Billy Hargrove x Male Reader fluff
Warnings: a very small reference to looking feminine, gets kinda steamy at the end, not reviewed, tread lightly bc I cant remember everything.
Notes: V exited for this. I'm also quiet proud. I might write a second part later if yall want. Probably one of my longest fics. Also, I tried to make it fit in to both Trans readers and Cis so-
Y/n tapped his pencil against the desk. If he had to listen to one more person drone on about their 'historical hero', he was going to lose his mind.
He glanced around the class and noticed that a few faces were missing. Richard who he knew was sick. Linsey who had 'gone to the bathroom' with her boyfriend, Mitch. Keith who was most likely skipping and stoned. And ofcourse, Billy.
Y/n was sure Billy only showed up once maybe twice to class.
Y/N knew Billy. Well, 'knew' wasnt the correct world. He had spoken to Billy maybe once or twice. He complimented Y/ns car once. Y/n had made a joke to his basketball friends and Billy laughed, patting Y/N on the shoulder. Y/N was very proud of that. He would never admit. Hell, if he did admit it, who knew what would happen. Probably, the worst possible outcome. So, the only option was to be his friend. But you couldn't right now while you were listening to fucking Timmy Little rant about Alexander Hamilton.
"Can I use the bathroom, Ms?" Y/n asked, standing up.
"Raise you hand, Mr. L/n. But yes. Make it quick." She waved you off.
You nodded, glancing to your friend with a smile. He smiled back with a wink.
Once out of that classroom, you huffed, crossing your arms. You paced a little bit, glancing around a bit to make sure there was no teachers walking by.
"Hey, man." You friend shut the door behind him.
"Hey, dork. Wanna hit up the mall or a convent store?" Y/n asked, walking with your head down as he pulled out a pack of new cigs.
"Mall. Definitely the mall." You handed your friend a cig before pulling out your own.
"Mall it I- oof" y/n had walked in to something. Something? No, someone.
He quickly backed up, looking up. "Eh, sorry uh..." it was Billy. Why did it have to be Billy?
"Sorry Billy." Y/n said, staring at him.
"Hey, dont worry about it." He smiled, taking one of your cigarettes. "Light?"
"Oh yeah." Y/n pulled out his lighter, holding it up for Billy.
"Thanks." And then he left.
Y/ns friend watched as Billy walked away and then glanced over at you.
"Really? Billy?" Y/ns friend (who's name was Justin) knew about your interests. Knew you were fruity.
"Shut up!" Y/n laughed, shoving Justin away. "What's wrong with Billy?"
"What's wrong with Billy? What isnt? You have no chance and even if you did shoot your shot, he would... well."
"Yeah, But hes pretty." You smiled and you both burst out laughing.
--------------------------------------------
Justin and Y/n sat in YNs car. Y/n groaned as he tired the key again only to be met with the sound of the car struggling to start.
Y/n shiged, sitting back in his chair. "Great. My car is dead."
"We could walk?" Justin suggested, also sitting back.
"We would have to walk all the way back here and we would still have a dead car."
"So we are shit out of luck?"
"Yep..."
Y/n let his head fall back with a loud shigh. Might aswell just go back in and stay in class.
Suddenly, there was a tap on YNs side of the car, causing him to sit up, startled.
Yn looked over, expecting a very angry teacher, but it was only Billy. Yn let out a long shigh and fell back in yn his seat.
Billy let out a chuckle. "You need help?" He smiled.
"Yes. God, yes. Thank you."
He steped back and YN steped out. Yn glanced over at Justin. He raised his eye brows and smiled, giggling.
You rolled your eyes and closed the door.
"Sorry. I didnt know the batter was so low. I let a friend borrow it the other day and... well now it's dead... "
"Dont worry about it, sweetheart."
Yn nodded. Then pause. Sweetheart? What was that about? Did he mean it? Was it a joke? Was he waiting for a reaction? Did he think Yn was... no. Definitely not. YN looked back over at Justin who just shrugged. Guess he didnt hear.
YN looked back back over at Billy, setting up the jumper cables. Jesus, who knew such a simple task could look so... Hot.
Billy steped back from the cars and then go in to his own. He started up the car and then your cat was shocked to life.
Billy got out of his car. "There you go, babe. Where are you heading."
Yn watched as Billy lick the back of his teeth. He had such strong eye contact, it was making YN nervous.
"Oh um, we are going to the mall. Probably going to buy something nice or whatever."
"The mall, huh? Mind if I tag along." Billy shut the door and walked around to your car, resting his arms on top of the car.
"Um. Yeah, definitely!" Yn smiled. Yn could felt Justin's eyes boring in to his head but Justin can trip on a knife.
Billy climbed in to the back seat and you got back in to the drivers. You rushed out of the school parking lot, desperately praying to whatever god there was that no teachers saw.
"Mind if I play something?" Billy asked, leaning over the center console to pull out the tape yn had in and push in his own. Rock filled the car. Justin was quick to sing along followed by Billy and YN.
-------------------------------------
After a quick drive to the mall, the three of them got out and started toward the mall. YN walked between the two, joking with Justin as Billy took out a cigarette. Before he knew it, Billy's arm was being wrapped around YN's shoulder. Yn didnt say anything, though he felt like he was going to faint, but he did silently tell Justin to 'Fuck off!' When he started giving YN the 'ooooo' eyes.
Billy walked around the mall etheir touching YN, holding YNs arm to show YN something, with his arm wrapped around YNs shoulder, or very close to YN. Maybe he left YNs side once or twice but it was very rare.
YN was dying little by little. A guy the YN had a crush on for some time was finally showing him affection. It didn't help that Justin had taken it apon himself to make it worse for his so called 'best friend'.
The group found themselves in the food court eating the food the Billy payed for. Billy was right next to YN, their shoulders were practically touching. YN payed no mind as he tried to finish his burger.
Billy had finished a bit ago, not getting much else other then a thing of fries. YN watched as Billy glanced around the food court, winking at a group of girls that were also most definitely skipping. YN went back to his food, completely focused of the damn good burger he was practically making out with. That was until he felt a pressure on his thigh. He looked down to see Billy's strong hand resting there, gently rubbing his thumb across YNs jeans.
YNs face was definitely tomato red. He glanced over from Billy to Justin. Justin gave a knowing smiled before going back to his nuggets.
Billy wasnt even looking at YN . He was talking to a blond at the next table over. He gave YNs thigh a quick squeeze, almost telling him the Billy really was here just for YN.
Yn swallowed hard and went back to his burger.
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School had ended by the time you droped Justin off at home. Lucky bastard lived with his girlfriend so he didnt have to worry about nagging parents like you.
Billy had switched seats for the ride home. Arguing that because he would be switching to the front when Justin left, it only made sense that he would take the front. He also called shot gun.
So there YN was, driving back to the school to drop Billy off at his car.
"Hey sweetheart." Billy piped up, turning down the music. "Turn here."
Yn slowed, eyeing where he wanted you to turn. It was a dirt path that led down to the creak. YN and Justin would go there sometimes to get high and skip stones and bitch about life.
Yn shrugged and pulled in to the drit road, driving down a bit till he couldn't drive anymore, being stoped by the trees.
YN stopped the car, Billy was already gone, walking down the path to the creek.
Yn got out of the car, catching up to Billy. They walked in silence down to the creek. Yn occasionally glanced over at Billy who was stone faced, staring forward.
Today was a fever dream. Billy has never talked to YN before today and yet Billy was treating him like his best friend. More then his bestfriend.
The walk to the water wasn't long. Soon, they were sitting by the creek. Occasionally someone would throw a rock in to the water.
"Billy... um, why have you been so... uh..." YN swallowed. He could feel Billy's eyes staring. Yn tried to force the words out of his mouth but the right words weren't there.
"So?" Yn looked over at Billy who wore a soft smile.
"So...."
"Sweet on you?" Yn felt Billy's hand on hid back.
"Yeah."
"Why am I sweet on anyone?"
"You know I'm a guy, right?"
"Yeah."
Yn stared long in to Billy's eyes, waiting for someone to just out from the woods with a camera.
"I did know you swang that way." Yn chuckled, glancing over at the woods. Waiting.
But nothing happened. Yn's smiled fell, his lips parted slightly.
Billy took YNs chin in his pointer and thumb, guiding YN to look at him. "This isn't a joke, L/n"
"Not a joke?" Billy pulled YN closer, their noses just a inch apart. YNs face was burning red. So was Billy's.
"I see how to stare. You arnt suttle."
"You saw?" Your blush darkened.
"Every time you stared at my arms as I leaned over a girls desk. Every time you started at my lips when I smiled. The way you blushed as I laughed at your joke."
"Billy..." Yn mumbled, his voice dropping just below a whisper.
"Tell me. Tell me how much you want me. Tell me how much you need me." His voice was rough, sending shivers up YNs spine.
"I need you. You are so handsome and so perfect. I cant stop staring..." YN mumbled, glancing away from his eyes to his lips. He pulled YN closer, pressing his lips to YN's and a soft and tender kiss.
On of Billy's hands snake around the back of YNs neck, pulling him closer. The hand on his chin left and moved to YNs waist.
YNs arms moved to Billy's shoulders, resting loosely around neck.
Justin is going to lose his mind when he hears about this.
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dizzy-n-busy · 11 months
Text
★ FINAL GIRL ★
Charlie is Casper's Final Girl (Guy)!!
{cw: chasing, light angst with happy(?) ending, heavily implied/referenced death off-screen, mild possessive n' obsessive behavior, Charlie is scared but kinda into it??}
• • • ★ • • •
Charlie's legs burned.
He was just walking to his old childhood friends house and ended up getting jumped; passing the alley wasn't the smartest idea, sure, but he just got off of work.
His body ached and was inches away from breaking down the moment he stepped out of Pete's. He was tired and didn't want to drag this day on any longer that it had to be.
He just wanted to see his friend again, after all this time apart - Charlie smiled to himself when thinking of them.
Now, the blonde wasn't going to lie and say his feelings towards his friend were strictly platonic.
He had an embarrassingly big crush on them; then again, could you even blame him?
Imagine being a dipshit little kid and getting into so much trouble with other dipshit kids that you're life was balanced precariously on a wire, got it? Now imagine having a friend beat the shit outta the same kids who threw your ass in a locker for stealing a dollar or two from them.
Exactly, shut up.
It was difficult not falling for them, something Charlie failed at and despite not having the balls to tell them that - he didn't think getting shanked was a proper retribution for his avoidance.
Yet here he was; tearing the soles of worn shoes as he was chased by the little gang of miscreants, thinking that their faces were vaguely familiar - back in his rough and tumble days, he'd wronged more people than not so it wasn't weird that his karma was hitting so soon.
But this seems more a matter of life and death than a little black eye.
Brrrring!
What?
Despite the tears clouding his vision, Charlie had seen someone calling him through the phone he had wedged tightly in his hand - he ducked and weaved through a few buildings and hit answer under the name, Casper.
" Yo, Chuck - where're you at? "
Their voice through the device turned the waterworks on real quick; Charlie choked back a sob as he ran up on the park, more specifically - his and Cas' spot.
" H-Hey, Cas! " Charlie was almost happy in the fact that he'd die hearing their voice, " I'm sorry but I don't think I'm ganna make it your house - "
Despite the lead the pizza boy had on the gang, he wasn't the most athletic; so charging through the overgrown clearance wasn't the smartest. Charlie trips over a thick root which bursted out concrete floor, smashing into the dense plain with a cuss.
" Fuck! " The blonde grits through clenched teeth, wincing when he tried to bounce back. Shit, he definitely pulled something.
" Chuck! Are you okay? " Casper's worried voice makes him hyper aware of the fast approaching footsteps from behind. " Charlie, where are you?! "
" I'm sorry, Cas - " is all he can muster, feeling dizziness overcome his senses from his head hitting the ground, " I love you. "
Charlie's ears rang over the incoherent yelling from the glowing device hardly clutched in his hand - his weakened body fell lax onto the old stomping grounds of his youth, seeing the rest of the people round up on him.
Slate colored eyes fluttered back into his skull, forcing him into darkness.
Content.
~
A blonde headed man shifted on plush comforters, shoving his face into a soft pillow and inhaling deeply.
Smelling like fresh linen and -
He pins his brows together, and inhales again; it smelled like...Cas?
It was some new cologne or perfume - hell, maybe just lotion for all he knew - that they wore when he first saw them in years; spinning that damn sign drafted most of the scent to him.
A pause lingers in the air as Charlie tries to recollect himself.
Then he jolts up.
Wasn't he literally knocking on deaths door, like 2 minutes ago?? The fuck kinda divine intervention is this?
Thoroughly disoriented, the blonde sits stagnant in the damn near king sized bed, staring at the satin covered pillow he'd been laying on a second ago.
He shuffles a bit and feels something fall off his shoulder - his skin tingling awake at the textures surrounding him - and sees a thick blanket pooling at his lap.
" What the fuck..." Charlie's voice falls short, he eventually decided to push the warm comforter off. He sees his ankle is bandaged.
Swinging his legs off the bed and hanging on the side for a bit; looking around with his head heavy, shoulders pinned up to his ears and back slouching.
It was a nice room; fairly spacious and humble with memorabilia littering everything - records hanging overhead and poster lining the walls.
Charlie heaves a big sigh from his mouth, gently nodding his head in encouragement to sit up and get out.
Standing up was weird, his legs felt shaky and sore and his body hurt like hell. Stumbling to a wall was his only move forward.
The blonde opened the door and leaned on every wall he could, hobbling a bit from the pain striking up his bandaged leg.
The house was pretty big, probably a one story with wider parameters; good space to hightail it if he needed to. Charlie notices that it's dark out, a void having swallowed the sky and dotted it with stars from just out the window.
" You're up. "
The noise the lanky man lets out is between a squeak and shout; accidentally applying pressure to his leg.
" Fuck - shit! "
Charlie almost falls over reaching for his leg, the loss of balance sends him hurling to the floor in a matter of seconds.
But he doesn't hit it.
Instead, he's embraced in strong arms which wrap around him tightly. Charlie tossed his head up urgently and pauses; eyes widening and mind boggled.
" Casper? "
The taller nods and smiles down at him a little - with his heart suddenly thumping in his chest, Charlie scrambles to stand back up. " Holy shit, sorry! I jus - ah! "
The back of his legs are pulled from under him and a support lands at his back. The blonde yelps when he's suddenly in the air, a quick turn of his head proves that he's also face to face.
" You're turning red, Chuck. " Casper tilts their head, lips tugging up more, " something wrong? "
Charlie shakes his head frantically and despite his flailing, they kept an iron girp on him; practically digging their nails into his skin.
" Ah! Uhm - no! Not at all, Cas! " the blonde chuckles nervously, squirming at their intense stare, their smile seems to widen and their breath hitches. He gulps and remembers earlier.
" Uh, do you actually know how I got here? " his eyes widen a bit and he quickly shakes his hands, " not that that's a problem! It's just, a really big change of scenery. "
Casper hummed, walking back to the bedroom as they replied, " I brought you here. "
The response was simple enough but lacking significant reasoning. Charlie fidgeted.
" How? I was getting jumped and like a solid 20 blocks from your house...! " he tried reasoning, letting himself get placed on the bed he woke up in when they past the threshold to the room. " you wouldn't have been able to..."
" I dealt with them, don't worry about it. "
It was reassuring in their voice but something underlyed their words; spite curling around certain letters.
Not at him, he thinks.
" What happen - "
" You know, Chuck. "
The blonde's cut off before he can question them further, their eyes looking dark as the bed squeaked under their added weight; Charlie backed up instinctively, alarms ringing in the back of his head at the smell of metal.
He tried to ignore the racing in his heart and urge to squeak.
" You never let me respond to you, after you said - " Their eyes lid when they lean in closer, " I love you. "
Charlie berated himself internally, feeling the redness spreading to his chest. " I-I know! I'm so sorry about th - "
" I love you too, Charlie..."
The blonde gasps at the sharp point of a knife to his jaw, coaxing him to stare into their blown-out pupils; practically seeing himself inside them.
A liquid dragged down his neck, dampening his shirt; warm and red.
" My forever final girl. "
• • • ★ • • •
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abookloverlmao · 2 years
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 {𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐜𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}
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Warning: the reader is an adult!! around the 30s (I'm sorry!!), kidnapping, blood, injury, heartbreak, swearing kinda angsty but fluff at the end, slight mention of smoking, kissing, nothing is happening btw Vander and Silco (I'm sorry again) and the reader is a mother figure to Jinx and Vi<3...
Okay I wrote this out of nowhere, it's shit but hey I am in love with Silco and Arcane is one of my fav show, so I'm sorry cause this is shitty asf :/
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 She was Silco's right hand, he needs someone to be tracked? she was there, needs some information? she's there so is Jinx.
She was very hyperactive and a tough woman who can be very dangerous and would do anything for something she wants and loves, walking inside Vander's bar she grinned immediately hearing everyone go quiet, "oh come on~ am I not allowed to have one drink?" she chuckled before sitting on one of the chairs.
Vander raised an eyebrow walking towards the woman who sighed heavily and threw her head on the table, "what happened again?" he asked handing her the best strong drink for a moment like this, she took a sip, "he is calling me a friend once again, I'm tired of getting friend zoned, Vander!" she exclaimed chugging the drink in one go.
Wincing at the burning and cold drink rushing down her throat.
Vi suddenly walked in with her arms wrapped around Jinx's neck, the girls frowned and made their way towards her, "Damn, you look.. fucked up." spoke Vi sliding down another drink towards her, Y/N took it and held the glass watching as the drink danced with each move, "shut up pinky." she spoke.
"Silco brushed her off once again." whispered Jinx to her sister who raised an eyebrow, "he didn't brush me off- he just.. needed some time alone. he has enemies everywhere."  
Vi looked at Vander who only shrugged in response, the H/C-haired woman looked at her glass before getting up with a sigh, "guess I'm just being ridiculous, that's all." she said with a scoff before handing the man the money who shook his head and pushed her hand away, "it's okay, you just go home and rest." smiling softly she walked away lazily.
Jinx ran to stand beside her watching as she stopped dead in her track and look at the blue-haired girl, "what are you doing?" she asked the girl who rolled her eyes, "we live together, duh~" replied Jinx sarcastically, "I know that, but I told you that you're staying with your sister, didn't I?" said the woman with a cocked eyebrow watching as Jinx's eyes slightly widened happily, "really?" she asked not quite sure about what she just heard.
"do you want me to change my mind?" Jinx shook her head hurriedly, "good. see ya soon, kid." ruffling the young girl's hair she watched as she smile brightly before throwing herself on her, taken back by the sudden hug she wrapped her arms around her waist slightly.
"Okay, thanks Y/N, love ya!" with that she ran towards her sister who gave her a thankful nod, Y/N waved them off lazily before replying, "yeah yeah, you are a pain in the ass sometimes but I love ya too." with that she walked out of the bar.
Vi turned to look at Vander for the third time who was staring at the door with a frown, "it's like something happened that made her so mad or something..." she said, "she has been really tired these days." Vander replied, Vi was always close to Y/N, she was like an older sister o her and a mother figure to Jinx, and both the girls loved her with their entire hearts.
Y/N spent the night drinking, dancing around, cleaning her weapons, and zoning off and staring at the ceiling, did he really not once notice her feelings for him? sighing she threw herself on the bed staring at the multicolor drawings Jinx did on her ceiling and all around the place, mostly skulls.
****
Silco expected her this morning in his office just like she always does but she was nowhere to be seen, Y/N was always there the moment the sun comes up, sneaking in by the window and sitting on his chair or his desk, the way she would appear saying "hello there boss~" every morning in a childish and with the most beautiful grin made him feel warm inside.
But today, no singsong "hello there boss" or her hanging up in the rafters in the ceiling just like she always does with Jinx, their special spot in his office.
Just emptiness, pure silence not one thing could be heard, he frowned looking up and around, but nothing.
It was terrifying.
what he did notice for the next hours was the way his ears would start ringing randomly and out of nowhere, the silence was way too scary and painful, and he despised it.
He got up grabbed his coat and walked towards the door calling for his men, "look for, Y/N." he ordered coldly, it has been 6 hours and she didn't once show up, and worry started eating him alive, what if something happened to her? what if she's dying? or worse, what if she's dead?
The last time he saw her, both of them got into an argument leading him to call her a no-one and that she only works for him, and seeing her expression full of nothing but pain and shock made his heart drop but before he could even apologize, she walked away in rage with a clenched jaw and bawled fists by her side ignoring his calls.
And the thought of her probably dead disturbed him and haunted him.
That was the last thing he ever thought would happen.
2 DAYS:
It has been 48 hours since the disappearance of the woman, his men looked everywhere for her, he looked in every spot she liked and went to a lot, Vi and Jinx were also looking for her.
Nothing.
No one dared to speak to their boss, he was way too angry and the last thing they want was to die in the hands of Silco, the eye of Zaun. Jinx shed some tears and looked everywhere, especially the spots where both mostly hung out together, their secret ones, Vi was worried sick and asked Ekko for help.
Here sat Silco in the middle of the night with his head in his hands, rage overtook him like hellfire, he missed her, he couldn't sleep for 3 whole days, the days she went missing and the night they fought, he missed her so fucking much, her laughter, her smile, her taking care of him, taking his cigar and throwing it out with a harsh glare, her kisses on his cheek, her injecting his medicine while sitting on his lap, her voice.
Her. her. her.
he needed her, he wanted her.
He clenched his jaw trying to fight the urge of punching someone, himself mostly, the silence was suddenly cut off by the sound of the window behind his chair opening, he turned around expecting it to be Jinx but his eyes widened.
There she stood stumbling inside the room with raspy breathes and painful winces as she held her side, her H/C hair messy, her hands bloody as she clenched her side with tears covering her eyes, her hair covering her face but he could see blood splattered all over her face, she looked fucked up.
"hello there boss..." she greeted between gasps trying to catch her breath and that was the only thing she needed to say before he pulled her to his embrace, tightly hugging her.
She froze, he did not just hug her, she must be dreaming right? the familiar scent of rich leather and tobacco scent brainwashed her as she immediately reddened, eyes watering.
Even with her body aching everywhere she hugged back melting against his hold, letting the tears finally race down her cheeks as she stepped closer, nuzzling in his arms and shakingly wrapping her arms tighter around his waist.
"I thought you died, oh my love." he sighed wiping her tears and kissing her forehead lovingly, "let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" but she didn't move instead just reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over his scar softly, "I thought I lost you.." 
the sound of her voice full of pain was as if someone was stabbing him repeatedly in the heart, "you won't lose me, I will always be there for you, now come on sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up?" she nodded, her head was spinning as she suddenly grabbed his arm trying not to trip.
His hand immediately went to wrap around her waist as he immediately picked her up like a bride, she was losing consciousness, "stay awake from me, Y/N. stay awake." he ordered watching as she chuckled trying not to fall asleep cause who knows if she might never wake up.
"ordering me around when I'm dying, wow.." she spoke looking up at him with half-awake eyes, "you know, you have very attractive eyes..." Silco scoffed with a small laugh, "you sound drunk." he placed her on the couch and immediately got rid of her top ignoring how soft her skin looked.
"We gotta stitch it up..." he said grabbing the supplies, she winced and gestured for him to just get it over with, after cleaning the wound and needle he pressed it on her wound making her cry out in pain, her fingers scratched against the couch as she tried to grab hold of it, her hand on her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
Once he finished she gasped for breaths, wrapping the bandage around her waist he got up, cleaning his hands before helping her up she leaned against him and walked trying not to wince with each move. Silco sat on his chair and gestured her to sit on his lap, she did as told, her legs hanging off the arm and her head on the manchette.
Feeling his fingers run through her hair she sighed softly letting her eyes close, his other hand was running up and down her thigh, "who did this to you?" he asked watching as she opened her eyes staring into his, "doesn't matter anymore, I killed them all."
"Who fucking is it?"
"that guy who wanted to take your spot." she replied hand reaching up to brush the few strands that fell in front of his eyes before cupping his cheek, feeling him lean a little bit, "you have such beautiful eyes..." with that she closed her eyes once again.
No one ever called him beautiful, not with heavy scarring on the left side of his face and a left eye with an orange iris and black sclera, "darling? would you mind?" he asked the woman handing her the syringe for his eye which mostly looked like a needle gun, it's a micro-dosing shimmer to heal it or at least stabilize it which she hated.
Strengthening her posture she sat on his lap, his hand on her waist as she got the syringe ready, "you ready?" she asked softly watching as he nodded throwing his head back, his other hand sliding to her thigh, counting in a whisper she injected it watching as he grunted and pain and tightened his grip on her thigh making her grab his cheek softly.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
He looked deep into her eyes panting heavily and without a thought, he pressed his lips against hers making her gasp and freeze in place. her lips were so soft and perfect against his just as he was about to pull away she chased his lips once again.
He leaned more against the chair relaxing, she was here with him, and he can finally rest, she pulled away and went back to the way she was before, his hand on her H/C hair and the other checking other wounds.
"I'm alright, you can rest." with that, she closed her eyes letting the sleep consume her after 48 hours of being kidnapped and treated like shit, she was finally resting on her so-called boss's lap who was supposed to be her lover after their kiss.
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paradoxgavel · 1 month
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😇🐻 Was Henry a decent person? (For the FNaF headcanon ask game!)
Prompt list here!
Ooh, okay, so... I'm gonna ramble a bit, I got a lot to say about my guy lfkjslkjd
Henry is complicated. I headcanon him as being a very detached person. He just kinda doesn't pay much attention to most people. And he tends to be very difficult to get to know - he's quiet, spacey, distant, intimidating, has a serious resting bitch face, is very disinterested in most folks... But once you manage to get through to him (a very tough task. like, he could, at one point, count the people he was close to on one hand) he's a very deeply kind person. Liked making people smile, in his own reserved way. He just also happens to be a curmudgeonly old autistic fella who doesn't care to get close to most people.
But when Charlie died, he just shut down. Walked away from everything. Went completely hands-off. Like, he tried to stay involved with Fazbear Entertainment for a while there in the hopes that maybe he could get his mind off things with work, making the Toy Animatronics and trying to program them to recognize faces in order to keep criminals away after the whole Missing Children Incident in their previous location, but... after everything there went badly as well, he just left. Gave up. To the point that he literally didn't know ANYTHING that happened after the FNAF 2 location. All the awful shit William was doing just kept going on and he didn't pay attention to any of it because he didn't want to hear a single thing about his former business or friend. He blocked every last little bit of it out. He was just sick of it all without his Charlie.
And he knew, yeah? He had to have known it was William, on some level. All of the murders. He's not an idiot. But he can't get himself to face that fact. It's too much. That's William, his best friend who he's been with since college, who is basically a part of his family, that's HIS William. He knows it was him, but it hurts too much to acknowledge it on basically any level, so for the longest time, he just doesn't. He just leaves it all alone and lets him keep doing what he's doing.
But then... One day, William's boy Michael turns up on Henry's doorstep. And he looks awful - torn open and stitched and bandaged back up, purple skin from blood loss, the fella should be dead. Michael actually showed up there to chew Henry out, for walking away, for neglecting to check in and stop any of what was happening, but... as soon as Henry realized who Mike was and how badly he'd been hurt, he just wraps him up in a hug, and Mike just breaks down. The two of them sit down and Mike informs Henry of everything William did. Henry finally has to face it all, internalize and accept it, grapple with the facts, but the thing that kills him the most is:
"Wait. You... You mentioned Charlie. Why did you mention Charlie." "Huh? Oh, I mean, she's still out there somewhere in the Puppet. She ran off a while ago. I dunno where, but she-" "She's STILL OUT THERE? IN THE PUPPET? MY LITTLE GIRL STILL EXISTS AND SHE'S BEEN OUT THERE THIS ENTIRE GODDAMNED TIME?" "I... You... You didn't know?"
... At which point, Henry sits down and almost immediately starts drawing up the plans for Lefty. He's tracking his daughter down. He's determined to clean up the mess he feels like he enabled with his absence, and to get those souls to rest. At that point, he's so disgusted and betrayed and so, so, SO tired that he just wants it all to be over. So he drags everyone involved in this mess down to rest with him, whether they want to or not, which... the intentions are there, but the morals are dubious. Especially considering that he rigged Lefty up to lightly shock the Puppet if it tried to get away - not enough to hurt, but... still.
In the end, in the afterlife, he's Old Man Consequences, sitting by the pond and watching over Cassidy and William. Sometimes Charlie comes and sits with him. Eventually, he convinces Cassidy to let go, for her own sake. To go join the others and get some rest. Leave the demon to his demons. But... he never really leaves the pond behind. William's down there. And Henry can't get himself to walk away. Not again.
So... he's not a bad person, I don't think. But when he loses the main thing that makes him happy in life, he's all too willing to just shut down, shut himself in, and pretend the outside world doesn't exist anymore just because what's the point of any of it. Allowing people to get hurt while he looks away. Children that he was partly responsible for. And his solution to all of it being to trap and destroy them all without their input is... y'know. But he was tired and hurting, and knew they all were too. So he did what he thought was for the best. So he made some poor but understandable decisions along the way outta grief and exhaustion.
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monstrology · 1 year
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thinking about that final scene of Justified: City Primeval episode 5 between Raymond and Raylan.
*I'm sure there's nuances to this I'm missing without reading the book, but this observation is mostly Raylan-centric because of that.
Raymond: So what do you want to know about the Oklahoma Wildman? It's all there. I left my old case files clean. Raylan: I ain't got those kinda questions. I want to know what's missing. Why I think I can't trust anybody. Why it's all a shit sandwich. Raymond: Look at you, still giving a fuck. Raylan: I try. Raymond: Ah, you remind me of me, man, when I started out. Except you're old. Raylan: I ain't gonna sleep at night if this son of a bitch wins. Raymond: Back in the day, first started out, guy I tangled with....Freddy Keck was his name. He was cute. You know, Freddy shot through my front window one night, not to kill. More like, "C'mon man, let's do it." Like it wasn't nothing--cowboys and Indians. Except Freddy was for real--a stone killer. Raylan: How'd you get him? Raymond: Eh, we couldn't. Raylan: You didn't get him? Raymond: I said we couldn't. Raylan: So what happened? Raymond: Showed up at my house one night. Raylan: He got tired of the games? Raymond: I know I was. But he says, "We're gonna sit and have a drink." It was all a big mix-up. Said if I had any sense of humor, I'd see how comical the whole thing was. He's chattering away. Yeah, he walks behind my bar, reaches down, and then... [pop noise]. Shot him. Raylan: He drew on you. Raymond: Eh, I shot him. Raylan: He had a gun on you. Raymond: Eh, I don't know. Raylan: You don't know? Raymond: Think it was a church key. Raylan: He had a bottle opener in his hand? Raymond: Yeah. What I remember is he's still talking. Hole in his chest, eyes wide open, still talking. I don't know what he was saying or who he was saying it to. I didn't care. The guy would never shut up. Anyway, I cleaned my fingernails with the bottle opener, and that was that. And I sleep just like a baby.
And it reminds me of everything about "Fire in the Hole," episode 1 of the original show. Boyd and Raylan sitting at a table, reenacting the confrontation between Tommy Bucks and Raylan. Tommy, who Raylan tells Boyd, had the gun under the table. How did Raylan know when to pull? Boyd asks.
Tommy went first. "He pulled first, so I was justified." And then Boyd goes to pull on Ava and Raylan shoots him first. Right in the chest, slightly off target.
And there Boyd lay, "hole in his chest, eyes wide open, still talking," like Raymond's Freddy, at least for a little while. Until he heals and then we spend 6 seasons with the most talkative shitkicker in Kentucky. A guy who never shut up.
Presumably, Freddy dies from his injuries and Raymond goes on to live his life supposedly unaffected. He sleeps like a baby. And Raylan implies that he won't sleep until Clement is caught, feeding into his personality of relentless pursuit as a marshal that we've seen throughout the original show. Regardless of his own personal struggles with his love interests or his daughter, Raylan prioritizes the mission of his job over all else. He's particularly insulted by Clement because he went after Willa, which ironically made Raylan push her away so he could go after Clement.
Raylan goes to sleep at night at peace because Tommy pulled first, his shot was justified, and Tommy received the justice Raylan believes was deserved for what happened in Nicaragua. Of course, there's a whole list of consequences that follow that at his job and from Detroit, but he justifies it for himself.
"But what troubles me is, what if he hadn't?" Raylan asks Winona at the end of Justified ep 1. "What if he just sat there and let the clock run out? Would I have killed him anyway? I know I wanted to."
What if there was no justification? What if the criminal in front of him, whom he knows deserves retribution, doesn't commit another crime upon him that it justifies his own violent act? He wants to shoot Clement, he wanted to shoot Tommy. He just needed a reason, first. To stay morally sane and just within himself.
For Raymond, there was no solid justification. He didn't know if Freddy was reaching for a weapon beyond a past history. Freddy was in RAYMOND'S house, behind RAYMOND'S bar. If Raymond had a weapon there, Raymond would know it. Even if Freddy had a weapon on his body, his movement wouldn't be towards the bar, but to his person. He comes up with a bottle opener to open a drink for their sit-down, but Raymond pulls on him anyway, without looking for the proof, without the justification to return fire.
Raylan continuously, confusedly, tries to insist Raymond's narrative fits his own moral code. "He drew on you. He had a gun on you." Raymond denies it. He had no clue. He couldn't get Freddy the legal way, so he got them the violent way, instead.
And he sleeps like a baby.
Raylan, who wondered if he would have killed Tommy if he hadn't pulled first, sits here ~15 years later and the first thought he has about a situation like this is still "they have to pull first--it's justified that way." I doubt he would have slept like a baby, not because he doesn't think Tommy deserved it regardless of pulling first, but because it would have shaken his own morality, the conception of himself that he's built in contrast to the criminal background he grew up in and worked around. It troubles him that he even questions his morality, without having acted on it.
Of course, Raylan is dubious by consistently nudging criminals towards making decisions that thus make pulling justified, but that's the gray side of law enforcement for you. There's also the question of Raylan's trajectory had it followed the book and his shot had killed Boyd. He apologizes to him as he lay bloody and fading away, and yet his survival suggests a subconscious decision to spare an old friend's life regardless of who pulled first--technically, Ava was the one with the loaded and aimed weapon and Raylan was defending her, after all. Raymond, meanwhile, cleaned his nails with the item that accidentally killed Freddy, unconcerned for the nuances of the incident.
All of this just highlights a stark difference between the two, Raylan and Raymond. And even though Raylan doesn't mention his past at all during this story and insight into Raymond's history, you could hear the echoes of Raylan's past in it, looking at all the parallels of two men in similar circumstances with different outcomes.
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gay-salt-amber · 2 years
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Dottokavlone headcanons
this is headcanons of dottore x kaveh x pantalone that me and @capricoffe came up with, enjoy! :D
Pantalone and dottore call kaveh ‘little architect’ and dottore calls kaveh ‘bunny’
Dottolone got together a few months after Pantalone joined the fatui, and kaveh joined the relationship after running away from al-Haitham
(in my au, pantalone and dottore steal the jade chamber and turn it into a house) when kaveh joined their relationship, pantalone made kaveh a whole art room with a sliding door that led to an office-esc area for kaveh to build his models and stuff
The romantic part of the relationship started when kaveh was locked out in the cold while al-haitham was at work and kaveh didn't have his key and he ended up passing out, pantalone and dottore were on a mission in sumeru and upon recognizing him from their Akademiya days, pantalone carried kaveh back to his and dottores hotel room, wrapped him up in a blanket and then kaveh agreed to move in with them about a week later
They were roommates while they were in school
Kaveh oos and aahs over anything pantalone and dottore wear, and whenever pantalone buys him something similar he short circuits
Kaveh isn't used to being spoiled
Dottore doesn't sleep very long so he's always up first making breakfast so his bfs just come waddling in like, ‘dear, we demand coffee’
Pantalone boops kavehs nose whenever he gets the chance because kaveh does the bunny nose twitch thing
Kaveh will work till he passes out, even if he's sick cuz he doesn't tell anyone, dottore, being a doctor, forces kaveh to bed,
Kaveh: “Dottore, I'm ok, it's just a minor cold..” Dottore, already shoving soup down kavehs throat: “Shut up and rest.”
Pantalone takes in strays and brings them home, kaveh makes this worse,
Dottore: babe, we already have 8 cats…
Pantalone, holding a tabby kitten in his arms: we live in the stolen jade chamber
Kaveh, with puppy dog eyes, holding an identical kitten: and look at them! They’re adorable! Dottore, cursing himself: fine…
Dottore infodumps to kaveh about his experiments and at first it creeped kaveh out a bit, yknow, with all the fucked up shit dottore does, but now kaveh will actively ask questions which makes dottore so, so happy
Pantalone sews a lot of kavehs clothes and kaveh doesn't know how to feel, because, on one hand, they’re comfy, on the other, kaveh feels like he's wasting resources. Kaveh also likes sitting and watching pantalone sew, the bankers humming and the sound of the sewing machine are therapeutic
Dottore is surprisingly a good therapist to both kaveh and pantalone
They go to farmers' markets together a lot
Kaveh takes Scaramouche’s spot when he leaves the fatui and kaveh ends up working closely with pantalone, doing paperwork and helping expand the palace, also being there to help calm pantalone down when he gets a dumb ass funding request
Dottore is surprisingly the most physically affectionate but kaveh argues that he's the most physically affectionate and pantalone is tired and just says its a tie
Kaveh draws his boyfriends all the time and both of them now have drawings hanging up in their office/lab
Kaveh, handing dottore a pebble: my dear, this pebble reminds me of you...
Dottore, knowing exactly what kind of rock it is: well you see this rock is about 500 years old and because of its orange coloring it has-
Kaveh brushes his bfs hair all the time
Whenever kaveh has to go somewhere for work, dottore will make him lunch and leave a small lil good luck note in it... That is also kinda murder-ey 
Pantalone keeps champagne under his desk and after a long day, he pulls him and kaveh a glass then they get shitfaced and dottore has to drag them back to bed
The jade chamber house has a nice ballroom and pantalone taught both kaveh and dottore to dance in there
Whenever they go to the harbinger banquets, dottore always has an arm around one if not both of his partners, he doesn't want to lose them in the crowd even for a moment
Pantalone is tired a lot but doesn't realize it, so when kaveh notices pantalones eye bags, he'll carry the man to bed and do pantalones paperwork for him
Pantalone: I’m sorry you got paid how much for that project?
Kaveh, taking a sip of his drink: Yeah, it wasn't even half of what I requested, I can barely pay rent with that
Pantalone: I will pay you 10 times as much as you requested if you put some expansions on the fatui palace in snezhnaya
Kaveh:... Can you marry me too?
Dottore, popping in: And me too!
They like baking together when it gets cold
They have a savannah cat, a mane coon, a black kitten, a siamese, two tabbies, and two ragdolls
Since savannah cats need to be walked or atleast have a lot of exercises, they go on evening walks together a lot with the cat(s) for that reason, and also to just get out of the office
Kaveh took one look at those cats when he first moved in and started installing cat-walks on the walls for them all over the jade chamber/house and now they chase each other on those throughout the night
Dottore was the one who confessed first to pantalone and then pantalone was the one who brought up polyamory with kaveh
Kaveh loves just going to the greenhouse (the jade chamber house has a greenhouse cuz pantalone loves gardening) and looking at all the flowers that pantalone has planted, some of them go for about 160K and higher and pantalone has so many of them like its pocket change to him, its calming
Unless he's out on a mission, dottore will, without fail, wake his bfs up with breakfast in bed
Cyno, seeing kaveh for the first time since he started dating dottolone: wait a minute- al-Haitham reported you as missing??? Is this what you were doing this whole time?
Kaveh, just trying to help dottore find produce for dinner: yeah??? I’m perfectly fine??
They're that one couple who puts the first letter of their name in a heart on a tree
Dottore is color-blind but didn't realize till very late in life, like:
Dottore, cuddling kaveh: Kaveh, your hair is such a pretty shade of pink...
Kaveh, finding it sweet but also confused: Uhm… darling, I'm blonde... Thank you though.
Dottore feels bad: oh…
Kaveh: I'm dying my hair light pink!
Kaveh makes pantalone rings he made their engagement rings too
When Kaveh is working late at night, Pantalone makes him sit in his lap and Dottore will make them all coffee to keep them awake
Kaveh, in a tree: pantalone, I am going to build a treehouse here!
Pantalone, tired, its noon and he hasn't had coffee: dear, our house floats in the sky
Kaveh: oh
During the first few months of their relationship, pantalone and dottore always made sure Kaveh knew he had his keys on him. Obv dottore and pantalone would never take them, but it was comforting to kaveh to know that he would never, ever be locked out of his home again
Pantalone and Dottore smother Kaveh in blankets since Snezhnaya is so cold and he’s not used to the cold
Kaveh steals both Pantalone and Dottore’s hoodies
Kaveh insists to Pantalone that Dottore would look so cool with tattoos and showed him a drawing of a few tattoos that Dottore might like… a few days later Dottore had all of the tattoos he drew tattooed on his arms
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edalynn · 2 years
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i just want the show to finish airing already man. i am tired of people calling hunter and/or willow straight on tiktok and erasing lgbt identities. i am tired of the harassment i see people get for literally anything. this fandom used to be so fun but now it feels like you’re on landmines of being harassed or accused of the most horrendous shit if you just. aren’t in the echo chamber. i loved this show and now i’m just tired and frustrated thinking about it. i want people to move on and stop.
YEAH i'm kinda in the same boat rn. Like I just want it to end, but TOH is too ingrained in my identity at this point to actually end up disliking it, which makes the whole hunt/low bs even harder. Tiktok was a mistake. The lowest point in human history. I will say it's never been said, but it is clear through visuals and implications that Hunter is bi. Also I said he was bi a year and a half ago and I am always right, so clearly /j. I'm just. So fucking sick and tired of straight people. This show isn't for you. Like please, enjoy it, watch it, give it views, but also know your fucking place and when to sit down and shut the fuck up. But when have straights ever known that. Willow at least has never had anything said about her sexuality other than her only being shown blushing at girls in S1, which would imply imo that no matter what she's not straight. But again, she's never been said to be either straight or queer or really actually have any interest in anyone romantically in general (aroace Willow please, thanks). I really am sick of seeing my friends be harrassed for disliking h/l and I'm tired of seeing h/ls say with total confidence that their ship is canon when it's not. But I'm really, really sick of seeing h/ls going fucking rabid on nonshippers, claiming any type of "x"-phobic they can to "prove" you're some type of bigot by not shipping them. They biphobic asks I got were kina funny at first because they were just so batshit off the wall and insane to me, but I keep getting them saying the same thing over and over and it's like. You can just stop. You can just drop it. You're making yourself and every other person that ships hunt/low looks stupid (not hard to do) and you're devaluing the actual problem of biphobia by crying wolf just because someone doesn't like your awful ship. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing huntlow and im sick of the fucking shippers being such fucking aggressors
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chasespinkwings · 2 years
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Love and Other Drama
Chapter 2
I was eating my lunch and waiting for Lena when I got another unpleasant visit from Chase.
"Rory! Just the man I wanted to see!" He smiled. I frowned.
"What do you want Chase?" I asked, too tired to even pretend to tolerate him. I wasn't sure, but for a second, I could swear I saw genuine hurt in his eyes. He plastered the smile back on before he spoke.
"I had a question to ask you" he looked like he was about to inconvenience me.
"Ask away" I sighed. He was always insistent on making things harder for the tech crew. No, not even the tech crew. He was insistent on making things harder for me.
"Can you pretty please put my chair on stage for me before act two?" He blinked his eyes mock seductively. I scowled.
"You're supposed to bring your own chair! It's not my job Chase" I said frustrated. He smiled apologetically.
"I know, I know, it would just make things so much easier if you could put my chair on for me" I glared at him. All he cared about was making things easier for him, he never cared about how hard things were for other people.
"I'm not doing it Chase, take care of your own shit" I grumbled. He looked upset.
"What if I buy you a Monster for it?" He asked. I considered for a moment.
"Two Monsters" I said simply. He scowled at me.
"Fine, Mr. Prince, I'll buy you two Monsters" I smiled, pleased with making him upset. He got up and walked away, probably to go cry to Adelaide about how mean I was. Lena arrived hand in hand with her boyfriend Kyle. They had been practically inseparable since the fall melodrama when they kissed backstage.
"Were you talking to Chase? I didn't know you two were friends" Kyle said pleasantly.
"We're not!" I exclaimed, a little too roughly. Kyle looked hurt. Lena frowned at me.
"I'm sorry Kyle. That came out way harsher than I ment it to. Chase just frustrates me is all" I said apologetically. Kyle smiled.
"It's fine, I know you didn't mean to do that. What's your beef with Chase though? He's always kinda been my friend" Kyle asked. I opened my mouth, prepared to answer. Lena shut me down.
"Don't get him started Kyle. He'll go on all day" She rolled her eyes lovingly. I was very thankful for Lena. If I didn't have her, I would've gone crazy a long time ago. I remembered the first time we ment and smiled.
We had taken a tech theater class together. I was scared becuaee it was my first time doing anything theater related and I didn't know anybody. Everybody in there seemed to have a friend to talk to, except for the pretty girl with big glasses sitting in the corner. She had her head hunched over a book. I went to sit next to her and she was more than happy to make conversation. We ended up being partners on a project and ever since then, she's been my best friend.
Kyle smiled at Lena with admiration. I liked Kyle and I was glad that Lena chose him out of all the boys in our grade. I didn't like that he was friends with Chase, but he seemed nice enough.
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earthtooz · 3 years
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clingy, kinda soft bakugou <3 no pronouns are mentioned!
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it's late.
in fact, at this hour of the night, bakugou katsuki would be in bed, peacefully resting his body to prepare for another day of pro-heroing.
or rather, that should be what he's doing. instead, he's dragging his sore, tired self out of bed to find wherever you could be that's not in his arms. he's dearly missed the warmth that came from the other side of the mattress, which you occupied.
footsteps softly trudging along the planks of your home, bakugou discovers you in the kitchen, sitting at the island with your laptop underneath a singular, dim light source that hung over your head. the bluelight glasses that accompanied your face illuminated the screen of the laptop, and in his delirium, the blond notices that you're typing away on some sort of document.
he huffs, hoping that it would capture your attention... but to no avail, and bakugou is absolutely flabbergasted. how could you ignore him?
what could be more important than your lover that just wanted your attention to come to bed?
he tries over and over again, and it's not until bakugou coughs that he finally captures your attention, unfortunately for his impatience.
"you scared me," you sighed, hand going over your heart, "what's up?"
"come to bed, doofus," he grumbles, walking over to where you sat and draping himself over your body freely. you ignore him as if there's no problem, pretending as if there isn't some muscular hero splayed across your back, placing most of his weight onto you.
you continue typing away, irking bakugou to no end, "i'm almost done. go back to sleep without me, i'll be there soon."
"it's 3am."
"and?"
"and you're not where you're supposed to be, which is sleeping beside me."
a laugh filters through bakugou's ears, and he looks at you with an inquisitive stare, "katsuki, you have work tomorrow. go rest."
"and you have to visit me tomorrow on your day off, and i refuse to talk to your tired-ass that should've listened to me."
that's a lie. bakugou would do anything for you, regardless of whatever state you're in, because even though it seems like he hates taking care of you, but he's always at your beck and call regardless of the teasing he endures from you.
"wow, you really do care about me," you muttered, pretending to act touched as bakugou rolls his eyes, moving his arms to wrap firmly around your waist.
"as if. i just can't sleep without ya there. 'tis all," he grumbles through his teeth, "i don't care about your health."
a smile adorns your face. it's so obvious he's lying, judging by the way he's pressing his face against your shoulder and holding you tightly against him.
you fuel the fire, "and you wonder why i'm not going to bed."
"y/n," he groans, borderline whining.
"bakugou," you mimic, not tearing your eyes from the laptop screen.
"you can't pull out the last name on me, you little shit!"
"i can do whatever i want, bakugou katsuki."
"if you don't get up and come to bed in peace, i am going to resort to violence."
"please don't blow up the house again-"
in an instant, you're being picked up effortlessly and bakugou is carrying you out of the kitchen, shutting your laptop lid and turning off the lights simultaneously, before bringing you to your shared bedroom.
he throws you on the bed in an undignified manner and climbs in not too long after, pushing you down by leaning most of his weight on your body. the ironic part is that he carefully plucks your glasses off your face, gently putting them on the nightstand before flopping back over you, arms wrapped securely around your middle
bakugou sighs contently, melting into your warmth completely when your hands have found their home in his ruffled hair. he shifts his leg to rest over your hips, making sure that you couldn't escape as he continues basking in his paradise.
you almost want to scold him but you know that bakugou does this for you because he knows it's what is best for you. when you forget to take care of yourself and succumb to the feeling of never having motivation, he'll always be there to pull you back.
he's corrected multiple of your deprecating habits; such as going to bed late by forcing you to sleep when he does since he can't sleep without you. on the contrary, you've softened his edges a little, showing the explosive blond what it's like to be able to rely on someone else for a change.
as much of a pain in the ass bakugou was, you wouldn't have it any other way.
"i lovb youu, shtupid," he whispers against your neck, muffled. "shay it back."
a small laugh echoes through the space, "i love you too, katsuki."
"good, now go to shleep, or i will be mad."
"goodnight."
"goodnight."
and as rough as bakugou katsuki could be, he always made you feel loved, even in the darkness of your bedroom with him laying half on top of you.
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eungii · 2 years
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• ¡ 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗜 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗦 !!.
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sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs: cute moment with tr boys <3 // 00.1
ғᴛ: sanzu and rindou.
ᴛᴡ: FEM! reader || fluff || curse words || SANZU;; crack and fluff ||
ɴᴏᴛᴇ: yeah, sanzu and rindou's are the same but also different? im trying to change some things in my blog because it look so disgusting and ugly, plus say hi to shinji.
01. join taglist // 02. general masterlist // 03. tr masterlist
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꒰ HARUCHIYO "SANZU" AKASHI ꒱
"I'm so fucking tired of you" Koko's words where enough to make Sanzu turn around. His face was just enough to make Koko more annoyed.
"You and that girl, the way you talked about her, and how she look at you IS OBVIOUS!" He was tired of seeing his coworker daydream about the not so mysterious girl plus the jealous knowing that the pink haired guy could die non virgin.
"Sorry lizard guy" the nickname came out of his lips, making a funny face " I can't let her know that a big criminal and drug addict is wrapped around her finger, plus is funny to be a pain in the ass to you and Rindou"
"You asshole-"
"you AsShole-" sanzu said mocking Koko's accent and then sitting next to the other male, now all serious "You know I can't do it sobber, and she hates when I'm all high" and with that he ended getting out of the room. Making Koko start thinking and when an idea got in his head, he pull his phone.
-
Sanzu's phone start to ring, and with a disgusting face he answer it.
A dry "what" was out his lips continue by a laugh and following a "wow, you sound sober" Rindou's voice could be hear "fuck off, what so you want"
-
"Ok so, Rindou is distracting Sanzu, meanwhile you and me pit this peace of paper?" Ran ridiculously ask "Boten is known by having a lot of money and you want us to show...this? " his disgust expression was enough to start annoying Koko "I know and it is a poster you dumb, but I found this on Sanzu's room and its real his vibe"
"Ok, here she comes... One, two... THREE!" Koko shouts just so Rindou hear it too. And then the big poster came down, with a blushed sanzu, a nervous Koko, a kinda proud ran and a irritated rindou.
"I-I, ok it's not what you- " the pink haired man try to avoid your eyes "T-That is not my letter, so definitely not m-me hehe.."
"Hey! Koko I found this next to that ugly thing!" The older Haitani screamed and the unfold the next white poster with a 'made by sanzu'. "Oh, it could be any Sanzu" and the next part unfold 'Akashi'
"Ouh.."
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꒰ RINDOU HAITANI ꒱
His tsundere ass can't stop looking at you like the best diamond, but also can't tell you that. Somehow he loves when you text him, how your messages end with a '<3', how you send him stupid cat faces in the middles of a meating , yeah he loves it, but can't show you that size of him.
But one day before his bed time, your message make him go pale.
"Rindou, I am marry with you"
I mean, it is kinda funny how you change some words, but try to make the same meaning, he thought, so why dont he respond the besy way he can?
"<3"
And as your calm body was already asleep, the only you have is he's probably already sleeping so calmly.
Meanwhile a wild Rindou enter to his brother room with a happy "RAAAAAN!", making his brother fall from his bed. A sleepy "what" fell from his pink tired lips
"She wants to marry me" Rindou whisper, but ran didnt hear anything "what-?"
"she wants to marry me" "eh?"
"SHE WANTS TO MARRY ME YOU DUMB SHIT FACE"
-
After that small brothers fight, both haitani's sat on the sofa, an older brother proud that he could be uncle, and a younger brother that was dying inside from how cute it was but "wait- she technically ask you to marry her, so that's not so manly of your part" Ah yes, the big brother always screwing up. "shut up— i'm gonna to make her the best gift ever"
-
Why does this always happen to him? When everything was ready, why?
"Yeah and im sorry Rin, that was my little sister so that's why the message was a little messed up" shit— he though "Pff, I didnt even notice it you loser..." While his mouth was done speaking, faster that he thought, he start calling Ran
"Yeah, what's up?" "Abort mission, abort mission" "Um.. To late"
What—
The sound of fireworks just stopped his mind, and before you could turn around his hands were squishing your cheeks "Do not turn, i mean just look forward to the future— there is no point in looking back" his shaking voice with his blushing cheeks make your head turn.
'I love you y/n'
"Pff nothing to do with me, it's a different y/n"
'From Rindou'
"Is another different Rindou" he said with his worried face mixed with his pink cheeks
'Haitani'
"Haha what is the probability??"
'Ran's baby brother'
"Shit—"
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© this belong to @/eungii. Do not repost, translate, steal or modify my work.
🔔 TAGLIST: ××
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teasty · 4 years
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hold on tight || b.c (m)
"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon
a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???
● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader
● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)
● warnings: chan acts like a dick but he really isn't | illegal gambling/street racing | established relationship | angry sex | (of course) car sex | hair pulling | degradation + praise | dom!chan, sub!reader | fighting :( | semi - public sex | profanity | suggestive dialogue | reader slaps chan once :( | unprotected sex (please be safe!) | choking | kind of a quickie???? | super happy ending because i'm sappy like that
● requested? yes!
● words: 8.7k
→ summary:
You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.
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"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."
It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.
It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.
To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.
Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.
You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.
But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).
You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.
“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.
“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”
“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.
“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.
“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.
“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”
“Sure.”
“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.
“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.
“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.
“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.
“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”
“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.
You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.
You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.
“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.
“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”
“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”
“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.
You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.
Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.
Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.
So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.
Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.
Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.
The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.
You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).
It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.
You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).
“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.
“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”
“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”
Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”
You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”
“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”
“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”
"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”
“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”
“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”
You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”
“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”
You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.
“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”
“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”
You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”
“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”
Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”
“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.
You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.
The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.
When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)
Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.
However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.
You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”
And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.
“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.
But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.
So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.
The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.
“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.
After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.
And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.
Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.
You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.
“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.
Not even hesitating to hang up.
As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.
The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.
“And who the fuck are you?”
“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”
“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.
“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.
“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.
But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.
“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”
“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.
“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.
“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.
“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.
“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.
“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.
“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.
“Chan, what -”
“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.
“Chan…”
“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.
“Chan!”
“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.
She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.
You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.
“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.
“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.
“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.
His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”
“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”
“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.
“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.
“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”
Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”
“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.
The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.
Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.
But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.
“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.
“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”
He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.
“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.
After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.
You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.
It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.
“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”
You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.
“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”
“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”
“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.
“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”
“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.
It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.
You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.
Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.
Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.
When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.
“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.
“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.
“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.
“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.
At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.
But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.
Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.
Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.
“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.
“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.
He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.
Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.
“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).
“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.
“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.
“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”
“Oh my god, yes!”
1K notes · View notes
nochuvalencia · 4 years
Text
𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk
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I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi
⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.
𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have
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“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.
“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.
“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.
You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.
Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.
He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.
After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.
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You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.
You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.
“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.
A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.
It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?
You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.
He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.
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It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.
So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.
A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.
+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?
+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?
+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore
You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.
me : it’s my car asshole
me : bought it with the money u left me
me :thx baby <3
+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?
me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck
+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money
me : why should i listen to you?
me : you aren’t my bf
+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u
me : already did bye babe
You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.
Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..
And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.
This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”
You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.
“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.
“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.
“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.
“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.
And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.
“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.
“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.
“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.
“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.
“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.
“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.
“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.
“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.
“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.
Yummy as fuck.
Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.
“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.
“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.
You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.
+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run
+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove
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“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.
You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?
You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.
me : i’ll take your offer
me : this is ____ btw
You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.
+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are
+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20
+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart
Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.
In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.
You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.
“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.
“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.
“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.
“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”
You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.
“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.
“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.
“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.
“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.
You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.
Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.
It was huge.
You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.
Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.
“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.
“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.
You were wrong. He noticed immediately.
He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.
“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.
“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.
He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.
“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.
“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.
Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.
He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.
“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.
“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.
“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.
You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.
“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.
He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.
“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.
After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.
You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.
“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.
“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.
“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.
You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.
“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.
When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.
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