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biteofcherry · 1 year

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To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety.

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness.

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were.

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month.

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of.

Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day.

Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.

True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.

You nearly laughed hysterically at that.

Car accident. Sure.

Against a truck branded Rogers.

You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth.

But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.

Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death.

You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work.

It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to.

Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.

When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect.

Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms.

You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones.

If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?

You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day.

Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls.

Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral.

A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them.

You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was.

Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss.

You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule.

“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.

She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face.

Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting.

The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart.

“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake.

“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job.

Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening.

“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath.

Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered.

Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts.

That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt.

You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.

He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second.

“Princess?”

You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.

“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”

“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.

You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter.

You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence.

“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.”

“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.

He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob.

Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too.

“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”

You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured.

Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.

“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway.

You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that.

“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.”

You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening).

“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.

“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin.

He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.

“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!”

There was a pause after you snapped.

One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones.

However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death.

Though it may as well have been, considering his words.

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”

Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness.

You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life.

You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind.

No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity.

A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies.

A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.

Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”

“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity.

It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty.

She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.

“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option.

But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you.

You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit.

“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly.

“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone.

“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.”

It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first.

Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here.

As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it.

If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.

The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries.

By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle.

It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times.

As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar.

“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.

His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat.

You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.

As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee.

A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.

Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband.

Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat.

You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.

“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”

“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim.

You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious.

“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”

“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.

“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.

Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away.

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.”

He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.

Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet.

If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it?

As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea.

Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.

At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one.

Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?

Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you.

Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it.

She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.

You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.

Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man.

With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything.

As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan.

“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.

“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”

“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”

“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”

Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.

Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge.

Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information.

“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off.

Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”

“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head.

His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat.

Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything.

“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.”

It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already.

If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death.

What awaited an unruly fiancee?

You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.

It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you.

To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour.

That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless.

Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands.

Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy.

The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you.

There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside.

There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open.

“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run.

There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.

Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus.

The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist.

Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed.

“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.

There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy.

Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.

Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered.

“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly.

Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.

“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”

You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel.

Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table.

“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.

Simple, but completely confusing for you.

Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind.

“I don’t know anything about any stones,” you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.

Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something?

“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about.

“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”

“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”

You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings.

You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see.

Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers.

“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks.

“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”

When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions.

“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.

You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.

At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort.

“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?”

“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…”

Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself.

You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false.

You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve.

“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets.

A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you.

Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo.

Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it.

Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.

He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick.

Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open.

It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty.

After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head.

You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot.

Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body.

Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.

Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself.

You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch.

You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment.

Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again.

The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism.

Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here.

The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance.

He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc.

A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.

How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne.

That gun held so much power.

It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm.

“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself.

“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief.

“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon.

“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.”

You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin.

Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.

He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises.

You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen.

No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.

It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.

That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this.

Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like.

But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way.

And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you…

“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.”

He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.

“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh.

“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s.

The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core.

His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened.

Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.

While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”

“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal.

You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery.

“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you.

Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today.

But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones.

It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun.

“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit.

“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”

You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties.

“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”

You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.

“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see.

Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them.

“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.

A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean.

His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.

For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension.

A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips.

The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.

Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now.

Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized.

One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy.

“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt.

Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.

“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.”

That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it.

Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs.

The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer.

If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again.

Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way.

Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.

“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness.

You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.

No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it.

“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!”

“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame.

“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun.

“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary.

“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply.

Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.

“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”

There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin.

It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation.

“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit.

Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse.

Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.

Suddenly, you were picked up.

Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.

“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break.

“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”

“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs.

With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all.

You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside.

Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”

#touch the darkness #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #dakr mafia!steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #my writing

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yuna542 · 1 year

Text

[1]

>Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, jealousy, ANGST, blood, sexual assault, violence, mentions of sex, alcohol

Word Count: 9.1k

Note: Here we go. Wanted to write an Oneshot. It escalated and it became a Story with 4 Parts. Hope you like it and you are also obsessed over the show! It’s amazing!

Summary: As Gunwoos little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can’t stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean. It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word. "I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled.

Chapter 1:

The Idiot

„Gunwoo! Come on! Hurry up!", you shouted through your apartment, leaning on the doorframe, ready to leave.

Now your brother had already talked you into coming to a boxing match that wasn't his own, and now he was making you wait. You heard the rumble in his room and he was probably gathering his things in a panic so that you wouldn't change your mind at the last minute.

Beside the hustle you heard his cell phone ringing behind the door and he answered in a rush:

"Yeah... Yes we're on our way... See you soon."

Then he finally opened the door and ran into the kitchen to plant a kiss on your mom's cheek.

"We're off, Mom."

The woman with the same kind eyes as you and your brother turned from the stove and raised her finger.

"Just watch your little sister for me!"

You sighed loudly as your brother gave you a doubtful look and eyed you. You raised your eyebrows, as you would probably always be the little girl to your mother.

"I'm sure she can do that very well on her own," he said with a gentle smile and you snorted in amusement. But you were grateful that he didn't put you down.

Even though you were way shorter and narrower than your brother, most people had more respect for you. Or they were quickly intimidated. Unlike your reserved, polite brother, you stood out because of your confidence and cheeky manner.

If you didn't have the same eyes and handsome face, nobody would have guessed that the quiet muscleman and the little hothead were siblings.

"Come on now! Otherwise we'll be late!"

Gunwoo shoved his cell phone into his pocket and you waved goodbye to your mother as you disappeared through the door. As you walked down the stairwell, you could see your brother smiling conspiratorially.

"I thought you weren't interested in the boxing match."

"I am interested in your boxing matches. You're making me watch your friend's, aren't you?" you retorted, skipping the last two flights of stairs as you had always done.

Originally, years ago Gunwoo had told you that there was a monster lurking under the last staircase that would grab your ankles and pull you down into the basement if you weren't careful. When you were six you just stuck your tongue out at your brother who was four years older than you and called him a fool, but even today you skipped over them out of habit.

As soon as you stepped out into the fresh air, you took a deep breath. It was a summery day and the birds were chirping. Sitting in a stuffy hall all day, enveloped in the smell of sweat and blood had not been your plan.

"I just want you to finally meet Woojin! He's my best friend and a great boxer."

"Mhh," you replied, remembering the day a few months ago when Gunwoo had come home late from a fight and told you that he had been out to dinner with his opponent all evening.

You used to be his best friend. You shared everything, were always together and you even helped him train for his dream. But since this Woojin showed up, your brother only hung out with him and therefore you had little interest in getting to know him. It would be an understatement to say that you already disliked him without even knowing him.

"This is going to be great. Woojin has been training for today for a long time. I'm sure he'll rock it. And I'm sure you guys will get along great. You guys are actually very similar."

"Oh yeah?" you asked suspiciously, and Gunwoo just smiled knowingly.

"Watch it! Idiot," you hissed as you picked yourself up off the ground and rubbed your aching neck. The idiot who had just knocked you over was staring at you with wide eyes, completely frozen.

He had run around the corner unannounced and hit you full on. Not only was he quite a bit taller than you, but he was also broadly built and his chest, against which you had crashed, felt exactly like a wall.

Slowly he seemed to come back to reality and ran a hand through his curly mane, allowing you to see his earrings.

"Man shit! I'm really sorry about that. I didn't see you..."

"What you don't say..."

The amazed man held out his hand to help you stand up, but you ignored it. Irritated, you stood up on your own and patted your skirt while the curly-head still held out his hand.

"I was in a hurry and I just overlooked you. You're so small and light... Shit you really flew really far", he said almost enthusiastically and you scrunched your nose indignantly.

"Well, open your eyes next time, douche bag!" you snapped at him and he stared at you in surprise. He hadn't expected such a sharp tongue from such a pretty girl.

Then, fortunately, you spotted your brother at the other end of the hall, looking out for you with two bottles of Coke in his hands.

The one with the curls was now eyeing you more closely, and he was speechless as soon as you looked at him out of those shimmering eyes.

"Are you watching the boxing match?" he asked, putting on a confident smile.

"No... I just hang out here a lot. It's all full of testosterone-fueled machos and the air is so nice and stale around here."

Now there was silence again and you could clearly see in his face how he was weighing whether it was sarcasm or the truth.

"Really?" asked the rascal now and you just shook your head with a snort.

"You're really not very smart, are you?"

Maybe you weren't particularly nice, but he was getting on your nerves big time, with his handsome face that was sure to drive any other girl out of her mind.

He leaned down toward you with his hands in his pockets and grinned mischievously.

"You're quite bitchy, dollface."

"Fuck you!" you hissed at his provocation and stormed past him.

"I knew it was a mistake to come here," you muttered as you passed, not giving the macho another glance.

Instead, you disappeared among the people and joined your brother, who had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.

"Where have you been?" he asked, handing you the Coke he'd gotten you. You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and together you stood at the entrance for the bleachers.

"Some idiot knocked me over."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

You nodded with raised eyebrows and leaned against his muscular shoulder.

"Yes ‚Oh'... I‘m fine.“

You hadn't been a fan of the idea of coming along to a boxing match from the beginning, but you had been to every one of Gunwoos fights and he had begged you to come along to his friend's fight until you had said yes.

Well, he had also bribed you with pizza and sushi, but in the end you said yes anyway. He was a boxer himself, so you already knew a lot about the sport. Most guys who boxed at your age were pumped-up, arrogant machos who had nothing but their sport on their minds. That's exactly what the idiot had just proven to you one more time.

"Trust me this is going to be really good today!"

"Let's see. If I don't get squished first."

The first rounds were indeed exciting, and you had to admit that you were soon eagerly following the fight and cheering along. But when the next fighters were announced, you froze in your seat.

The next up-and-coming boxer was announced as Hong Woojin, and Gunwoo applauded beside you as he entered the ring. As soon as the realization hit you, you gasped out loud.

This couldn't be true. As soon as you recognized the curly-haired man, you laughed in disbelief.

"That's him! That's my friend Woojin. He's unbeatable in his class!" your brother began to tell you excitedly, and you could only watch the muscular young man prance across the ring, provoking his opponent even before the fight began.

"That's the guy who knocked me down!" you said then and the start of the fight sounded simultaneously with the incredulous „What?", of your brother.

You had to bite your tongue as you watched the fight. Sweat glistened all over his toned body and with every punch, every tense, his defined muscles looked even more delicious. Gunwoo had been right. He was damn good at boxing and after an exciting exchange of punches, he won with ease.

His movements were fast and precise. Like a bee that stung when you didn't expect it.

Together you waited for him outside the locker room and when he came through the door and discovered your brother, his eyes shone with pure joy.

They fell into each other's arms, laughing, and Gunwoo patted him congratulatory on the shoulders.

It was almost cute how they jumped around clutching each other tightly and were happy like dogs who were allowed to play together in the park.

When they were done with their greeting, you cleared your throat loudly so they finally paid attention to you.

"Oh. Yeah. That's my sister, by the way. Y/N. This is Woojin," Gunwoo eagerly introduced you. Woojin stared at you wide-eyed as he recognized you, and you just pressed your lips together into a line.

"Hey."

You raised your hand and waved shortly at him.

"It's you?" he asked, perplexed, and you rolled your eyes at his disgusted expression.

"Believe me, I imagined it differently too," you said, walking ahead.

Over the next few weeks, you got to know each other better and, more importantly, you hated each other. Woojin was annoying and a pain in the ass. When you went out to eat together, you argued most of the time until Gunwoo intervened.

He teased you incessantly and enjoyed it when you glared at him angrily. It was a gift of his that within no time he knew exactly how to make you mad.

Nevertheless, you often went out together and did things as a trio, because despite your quarrels, you had one essential thing in common. Your love for Gunwoo. You had to admit that Woojin was a great friend to him and they got the best out of each other.

As much as your brother wanted you two to get along, that was probably never going to happen.

It was a few weeks later and you came up to the roof to check on the boys and let them know that dinner was almost ready.

They were working out again.

At the sight of Woojins muscle-bound torso, you swallowed hard. They lifted weights and spurred each other on until they spotted you.

Woojins gaze traveled up and down your body, lingering for quite a while on your cleavage, set off by the new dress you had just put on.

"Hey your sister is here!" he said and your brother put the weight down to look at you.

You walked over to them, trying to ignore Woojins intense stares. Maybe you should have changed your clothes. He always made fun of you, when you were wearing something more revealing so he could unsettle you. It was only a matter of time till he would make fun of you.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready."

Gunwoo nodded and grabbed one of the towels hanging over the back of the chair next to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest.

Inconspicuously, you kept glancing at Woojin as he took the water bottle, his muscles pumped and tense from the workout and his hair stuck to his forehead.

It was outrageous how good he looked.

He pointed to the other towel.

"Dollface be so kind and give me that!" he said with a grin. He had given you that nickname at the very beginning and you didn't know exactly why, but you got heart palpitations every time he called you that.

Annoyed, you took the towel and threw it harder than necessary into his face.

"You're welcome," you purred provocatively, crossing your arms.

"Is that dress new?" asked Geunwoo, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" you asked, looking down at yourself. It was a burgundy dress that was tight and came down to your thighs.

"Yes it does, you look good. It's just a little short, isn't it?" he said, protective brother coming through once again.

Woojin ran the towel over his abs and came closer until he was standing in front of you, eyeing you closely.

"I think it's cute. How did you know red was my favorite color?" he teased and you just rolled your eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up Woojin. Even if you were the last person on this earth, I wouldn't let you touch me."

"Ouch and I thought you were wearing those sexy outfits just for me."

Playfully shocked, he grabbed his chest and you wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face.

"You should go take a shower... You stink," you shot back and turned around to disappear back into the house. That was a lie. In fact, he always smelled so good that you automatically wanted to move closer when he sat next to you. Even when he was sweating, he smelled seductively tart and masculine, which didn't help you loathe him.

"Is she on her period or why is she so sensitive?" he asked extra loudly so you could still hear.

In response, you just raised your middle finger and slammed the door behind you.

Another time, you wanted to watch a movie, but the argument over the remote control got so out of hand that Gunwoo had to pull you apart by force.

Woojin ended up with big scratches across his chest and you were missing a tuft of hair.

Sighing, Gunwoo had come between you and you sulked at each other for a week until your brother persuaded Woojin to apologize to you.

Secretly, you were grateful that the argument was finally over, so you invited them both to the cinema.

When you got the tickets and Woojin saw that it was the movie he'd been talking about for weeks, he'd just looked at you completely dumbfounded.

"I thought you hated horror movies, I have the taste of a preschooler and this was just another cheap copy..." he had whispered to you in the movie theatre and quoted your exact words from a few days ago.

You had just shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

Then the curtain went up and he had no chance to question you further.

Actually, you still hated horror movies and you wouldn't like this one either. But this was your way of apologizing without losing your pride.

When Woojin held out his bucket of popcorn to you without comment, you smiled in the darkness and took a handful.

That's how it continued to go. You didn't become best friends, yet you were constantly seen together. It had also become normal to go not only to Gunwoo's fights, but also to Woojin's. Especially when Gunwoo didn't have time because he had to help mom at the café, you would go to the fights alone.

When Woojin's eyes wandered through the crowd and he met yours, the corners of his mouth would automatically twitch upwards, as if he knew you would be there.

Even if it was just to laugh at him after a defeat or to poke him in the side on the way home when he got painful bruises. There was absolutely no middle ground with you both, constantly at each other throats, ready to pounce.

Chapter 2

The Party

It was a Saturday night when you were getting ready for a party. Half the town was invited and it was going to be a big event.

You checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled your hair into place. You had half of it up and the rest fell in shimmering waves over your shoulders.

The dress was perhaps a bit daring with the emphasised cleavage and it was tight around your waist.

It artfully brought out your every curve and with the high boots and red lipstick, the black minidress looked much more expensive than it had been.

Glancing at your phone, you ran out of the bathroom and bounced right into something big and hard. Cursing, you staggered back, but two strong hands were already at your waist holding you down.

"I hate it when you do that..." you grumbled, looking up at Woojin through your thick eyelashes.

He was about to say something mean, you could tell by the glint in his eyes, but it got stuck in his throat.

Your eyes shone like diamonds, rimmed with eyeliner, that made you look like an attentive cat, and as his gaze traveled down your body, his mouth stood open as if he couldn't believe what stood before him.

He knew you as his best friend's annoying little sister, usually in sweatpants and comfy clothes when he was around, but right now you were a goddess whose presence he couldn't escape.

"Hello? Woojin?? Earth to Idiot?" you asked, waving both hands in front of his face when he didn't respond and also didn't let go of your hips.

Slowly, that brought him back to the here and now, and he looked into your eyes, caught, as if you'd saw him stealing cookies.

"Uh yeah? What did you say?" he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

What was wrong with him? You really had never seen him speechless before.

"I asked if you didn't have your own home?“

Gradually the teasing grin returned and he pinched your side lightly as his hands were still tightly closed around your waist. Your skin tingled strangely at the spot and even though your mind was literally screaming at you, you couldn't put any distance between you.

"What's the point when it's so much nicer at your place?"

You tilted your head a little and eyed him briefly. Surprised, you realized he wasn't dressed as casually as usual. He was wearing jeans, albeit ripped, and a dark red buttoned up shirt that sat tight against his biceps and chest. Slowly you realized what was going on here and you shook your head slightly.

Woojin just grinned wider as he saw the panic rise in your eyes.

"No. Oh no! No! GUNWOO!" you shouted almost hysterically and that's when he burst out of his bedroom door while still buttoning the last buttons of his blue shirt.

"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked, confused, looking back and forth between you.

Briefly, his gaze lingered on Woojins hands, which were still on your hips, whereupon he quickly took them away and clasped them in his neck.

"You're not coming to the same party! He just wants to embarrass me in front of my friends" you shouted, and Gunwoo put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but Woojin beat him to it:

"In fact, I've been invited, and Gunwoo is my companion."

Angrily, you glared at him and groaned in annoyance.

"You look gorgeous, by the way, dollface," he said, winking at you charmingly. You searched for sarcasm in his tone, but you didn't find it. Overwhelmed, you just stared at him and then walked away.

Your cheeks glowed and your hands cramped, forcing you to take a deep breath.

At the party, you immediately mingled with your friends and began to booze one drink after another. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the terrace at the back yard where people were throwing each other into the large pool. All these strange feelings were so confusing that you just wanted to drown them in alcohol. It was around midnight when you first saw your brother and Woojin again.

The older one was bringing a drink to a girl with long black hair and a pretty face. Next to her, Gunwoo was talking to her friend, and even though the alcohol was already clouding your vision, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love with the curly-haired boxer.

Directly something stung in your chest as he laughed at something she said and nudged her.

His hair shone like chocolate in the light and fell messily into his forehead. As the world spun around you and your friend's conversation slowly faded into the background, you stared at his hands for a while. The veins and pronounced knuckles had long fascinated you and you had rarely seen anything more attractive.

But when he put an arm around the girl, something similar to a growl crossed your lips.

You broke away from the circle with your friends without saying a word, and the plastic cup with the Coke-Vodka mixture in your hand crackled dangerously due to the way your fingers tightened around it.

You didn't know why or where this anger came from, but the alcohol prevented even a clear thought from breaking through the thick fog of rage.

As soon as you reached her, you changed your angle and stumbled into the girl with a really convincing startled "Oh". As you did so, you aimed accurately and the entire contents of your drink landed in the girl's face and on her light blue dress.

Shocked, she stumbled back a few steps and Woojin jumped to the side in time to avoid getting hit. With her mouth open, she wiped the burning alcohol from her eyes and you watched with satisfaction as the stain on her dress spread and her makeup ran as if a bucket of water had been poured on an oilpainting.

But from the outside you had a completely surprised expression on your face and held both hands in front of your mouth, to feign concern with your most convincing voice:

"Oh no! I'm so sorry about that! I shouldn't have drunk so much."

Stunned, the girl stared at you and you could see Woojin convulsively stifle a laugh at the angry expression on her face.

"Shit! What the hell!" she screeched at you, stomping like a little kid as she realized the extent of the disaster on her dress.

Gunwoo and the other girl watched silently, seeming to want to help but not daring to.

Woojin on the other hand, only looked at you. When your eyes met, he glared at you questioningly and he could have bet that the corners of your mouth twitched up in satisfaction for a moment.

Before you could fake a guilty conscience any further, she raced past you and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the bathroom.

Her friend ran right after her, and that's when Gunwoo turned to you and pulled you aside by the arm.

"What was that about?" he whispered as anyone around would care.

Of course he knew you did it on purpose. You couldn't hide anything from him. He knew you too well. Woojin crossed his arms and still said nothing. They both knew how much you could drink. You even drank Woojin under the table.

You just shrugged your shoulders unconcernedly and returned your brother's intense glare.

Yes, what was that all about? You had no answer to that. You were simply disturbed by the way the pretty girl looked at Woojin.

"It was an accident," you said unconvincingly, and now the amused smile came through after all.

"Don't bullshit me!" said Woojin and of course he had seen through your charade too.

But he couldn't even guess why you had done that. Maybe he thought you were crazier than he already supposed.

Astonished, he tried to read any answer from your facial features, but you were just as unreadable as usual. He never knew what was going on in your head and that made him curious.

You turned to him and leaned forward until your face hovered close to his.

"Oh. Did I mess up your one-night stand? I'm so sorry about that."

You smiled sweetly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Woojin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his gaze wandered aimlessly across your face.

Your noses were almost touching and the alcohol was messing up his mind. Your body in the dress was already hard to resist and he had been trying not to look in your direction all evening, even though he was almost addicted to the way you shifted your weight to the other foot, the way your curves endlessly flared under the thin fabric. If you weren’t so annoying…

Why had he never noticed how beautiful your nose was? How artistically your eyebrows were curved and how full your pink lips were?

Did they feel as soft as they looked?

"Now I guess you'll have to fill in for her. It would only be fair..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

You froze as his intense gaze drove heat into your cheeks. His eyes were fixed on your lips and you wanted to reply something provocative, but the amber around the black of his eyes shone so beautifully that you unconsciously bit your lower lip.

Of course, he was just teasing you, but something about his tone made you feel embarrassed.

Your fingers twitched and you fought the urge to brush the strand of hair from his forehead. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your stupid heart.

It was only seconds, but the moment seemed to captivate you for an eternity. The music and the people around you only seemed like background noise by now.

"No way would I sleep with you!" you finally replied, but why did the words feel so heavy on your tongue?

Like when you claimed, chattering your teeth in front of Gunwoo, that you weren't cold, even though he had told you a hundred times to bring a jacket.

He tilted his head a bit and just smiled in amusement until Gunwoo put a hand on his shoulder and called out to fight the loud music:

"I'm going home! Mom called. She needs help. Some pipe at the sink broke. Are you coming too?"

Woojin seemed snapped out of a trance, and you both looked in different directions so quickly, as if you could use it to undo the strange moment.

"Uh yeah. Yes I'll be right there."

Then your brother turned to you.

"Are you coming?"

Briefly you were tempted to agree, but your stupid heart only raced when you looked at Woojin. Whatever was wrong with you, you desperately needed to do something about it. It was disgusting.

"No. I'll stay for a while."

Gunwoo was going to protest, and he'd throw you over his shoulder if he had to, which is why you quickly disappeared between people until he lost sight of you.

Your head squeezed uncomfortably and you clutched your chest in which your heart just wouldn't calm down. Like a wild bird fluttering incessantly in its cage. You grabbed another cup and rushed out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time.

Actually, you didn't smoke. You hated the taste and the smell of smoke. But Woojin hated it even more and that was reason enough to put the cigarette between your lips and take a deep push.

But on the second puff, you coughed in disgust and threw the cigarette into the trash can.

Confused, you ran into the bathroom on the second floor. There was less going on and in front of the large mirror you first took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.

Your cheeks were pink, but otherwise you looked like before.

Then why did it feel like the world had turned around you?

Woojin's eyes and that annoying grin just wouldn't leave your thoughts. Annoyed with yourself, you dabbed some water on your forehead and chest, perhaps to lessen the effect of the alcohol.

Because that had to be the reason. You had simply drunk too much.

After you were reasonably calm again, you mingled with the people. Your brother and Woojin were fortunately nowhere to be seen. They were probably long gone.

You found your friends again and the conversations distracted you a little from the chaos in your head.

"You look stunning," said a guy about your age as you stood at the bar getting another drink.

"Thanks," you smiled lightly and with a quick glance you had to admit, he was really good looking. He was tall, well built and had a striking face. You struck up a conversation and he was actually funny as well. Actually he seemed to be kind and smart. Also the complete opposite of Woojin.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a while.

"Sure."

He led you by the hand to the dance floor and you moved to the music, laughing and goofing around a bit. However, a strange feeling crawled up the back of your neck. Like someone was watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder a few times, but in the middle of the party, among the tightly dancing couples, drunken teenagers, and loud music, you couldn't make out anyone.

The alcohol quickly made the moments flow into each other and you lost track of time. You finally found yourself in a dark corner, the guy whose name you had already forgotten, had his hands firmly on your hips, pressed you against the wall and spread hungry kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and really tried to concentrate on the moment.

It wasn't the first time you made out with someone at a party and this time he was even friendly, charming and good looking. You rarely got that lucky and it was a welcome distraction.

You just didn't want to think about Woojin anymore.

But as soon as his fingers ran over your sides and his lips brushed your skin, you imagined how the idiot would touch you.

Would he be gentle and cautious, or dominant and rough?

A gasp escaped you as the guy cupped your breast with a hand and somehow sounded suspiciously like Woojin in your head, and when you opened your eyes and stopped seeing the boxer's broad shoulders in front of you like moments before in your imagination, your heart stopped for a moment.

What had you just been thinking about?

Panicking, you pushed the guy away from you, who looked at you in confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and you just shook your head. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger and you feared choking on it if you didn't get out of this place soon.

"What's wrong?" he continued to ask as you picked up your purse and pulled out your cell phone.

'I just imagined you were my brother's best friend, who I actually hate, and kind of liked the idea.'

Instead you said:

"Nothing. Everything's fine. But I really have to go home now," you assured him, patting him clumsily on the shoulder as a goodbye, not knowing what to do in such a situation.

He was completely flabbergasted and looked after you as you hurried down the stairs and left the party in a complete rush.

Only when you had passed the large estate a few streets behind you, you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. The fresh night-air blew your hair out of your face and it smelled like wet asphalt and leaves. The streetlight illuminated the side streets just enough so you could still read the street names on the signs.

While you were trying to call a cab on your cell phone, you realized what kind of neighborhood you had landed in. It looked like an industrial park and there was no one on the street. You started to feel uncomfortable and when you thought you heard footsteps behind you, you ran faster.

Cursing, you tried several cab companies, but none answered. The line was busy and the constant beeping seemed to mock you. You winced when the sound was behind you again. You definitely hadn't imagined it.

Your heart was already pounding in your ears and just as you tapped Gunwoo's number, your wrist was jerked back hard and the next thing you felt was a blow on your temple.

Then everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes you were already being dragged into a dark alley. Your vision was blurry and your head throbbed painfully, but you could make out at least three black figures.

Only when your back hit a cold stone wall did your sanity seem to return.

"Well, what have we here?" you heard the tallest of them say. His raspy voice vibrated in your ears and when you recognized the three black-clad and masked men, fear ate so deeply into your chest that your eyes instantly filled with tears.

You wanted to scream for help, but before a sound could pass your lips, a hand was pressed over your mouth and you were slammed hard against the wall. Painfully you groaned and stared at your attacker with wide eyes.

"Such a pretty thing, out so late, all alone?" he asked, and there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

The other hand was firmly on your hip and you thought you would faint from fear, but with your last willpower you stubbornly returned his gaze and tried not to let your despair show.

The other two thugs were standing menacingly behind him. One had a baseball bat in his hand, the other had brass knuckles on both fists. You felt like you were trapped in a bad movie and wanted nothing more than to just wake up. You could see your cell phone lying on the ground behind them. The screen still glowing and Gunwoo just one call away. It had to have fallen out of your hand when he hit you.

"Listen, if I take my hand away now, you're going to be nice and quiet and not cause any problems, otherwise I'm going to have to be rude, understand?"

He talked to you like you were a little kid and you pressed your hands against your thighs to keep them from shaking.

You nodded and your heart drummed so wildly you feared dying of a heart attack.

"Good girl..." he purred, slowly removing his hand from your mouth.

Instead of screaming, you clenched your teeth hard, jerked your knee up, and caught him right between the legs. Gunwoo had shown you often enough what to do when you were attacked.

Never by three armed men, though.

At that time you had only laughed and said:

"What could happen to me? I have you. You always protect me."

Everything happened so fast that you could hardly take a breath. Fortunately, you had hit it dead on.

Groaning in pain, he slumped forward and you lashed out, hitting him in the nose with your fist, just as you had seen many times with Woojin and Gunwoo in the ring. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, you wriggled out of his grasp and ran towards the street, the adrenaline rushing in your ears.

Your breath caught in relief as you almost reached the main road, but you were thrown back hard by your hair. Screeching, you flailed around as rough grips closed around your stomach and yanked you all the way back again.

Desperately you tried to hit something, but most of your blows came to nothing, until you were thrown against the wall again and the anger-distorted face of the gorilla appeared in front of you. You felt something warm run down your temple and you instantly fell silent as his hand closed around your neck and squeezed until you were gasping desperately for air.

"Stupid bitch! Get her purse! Look how much she's got on her!" he ordered his minions, and they ripped the purse from your body.

They quickly found your wallet, took the money inside and threw the rest aside. The one with the baseball bat handed the leader the money and he pocketed it before looking back at you and you fervently hoped they would take the money and leave.

You tugged at his hand, but it remained iron-clad around your throat and you felt your field of vision getting smaller and smaller.

Blood soaked his mask and he had trouble speaking. At least you got him right.

"Shit, she's really tough..." he laughed and tore the mask off his face.

When you saw the cruel face, your heart sank and desperation slowly made your resistance collapse. His eyes wandered lustfully down your body and the grip on your neck loosened a little.

"She looks really hot... I guess we got really lucky today," he said and his minions laughed disgustingly.

"What do you think? We have a little fun and you make up for beating me, huh?" he purred, and the fear took on entirely different proportions.

The tears now flowed freely down your cheeks and you tugged harder on his hand, but he didn't move a millimeter. The other two walked a few steps away and turned their backs on you. Maybe to keep watch, maybe to ease their consciences.

With his other hand he grabbed your hip and pushed your legs apart with his knee. In your mind you prayed to whatever God there was to help you. You felt alone and completely helpless that you were about to give up.

Like in a trance, you only noticed how he tore the dress at your chest and pushed it up your legs. You squinted your eyes, your heart ached and fear gradually made you drift away as soon as you heard his belt buckle open.

"Hey you fucking asshole! Hands off her! Now!"

Your eyelids fluttered at the aggressive shout and before your tormentor could turn around, he was yanked away from you and a fist hit him in the jaw with such force that he staggered back.

As soon as you regained your breath, you gasped and slumped against the wall. Your legs no longer supported you and you could only watch, crouched on the floor, as Woojin stood in front of the gorilla and raised his fists.

"What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?" he shouted at him and now the others also became attentive and rushed to help their boss. He seemed to notice them only now.

"Shit," he muttered and gave you a curt look. The tears in your eyes and the blood slowly running down your temple were enough to make his anger boil over and something animalistic entered his eyes.

You grabbed your aching throat and couldn't believe he was really here. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by new fear as you saw them circling him, baseball bat at the ready.

Woojin breathed calmly and fixated his attackers intently. As he did so, he gritted his teeth aggressively and his jaw muscles twitched with tension.

"You little bastard. Do you really think you can stand up to us?" the one with brass knuckles asked provocatively and Woojin just laughed bitterly.

"Let's try."

You knew the look from the ring, only this time it was aggressive and angry. There wasn't a glint left of the enthusiasm of sportsmanship flickering in his eyes.

There was only blackness and unbridled hatred there.

With that, the gorilla charged at him, but he dodged with ease. He also dodged the next blows and countered with a series of quick, precise punches, all of them hit forcefully. But already the one with the baseball bat swung out and missed him by a hair's breadth.

Woojin kicked him in the knee, punched the third in the face and fended off more blows from the goon. With a well-aimed kick, he managed to knock the gorilla off his feet, but a startled growl escaped him as the baseball bat hit him hard on the rib.

Woojin staggered back, gasping, took the guard up and cashed in a few more blows with the baseball bat until he found a gap and with a clean blow to the temple took out the attacker.

Quick as a flash, he grabbed the baseball bat and threw it at the goon, who was just getting back up at the same time as the other hit the ground.

With a rattling breath, you looked around for anything you could help with.

Woojin ducked away under a few more punches and seemed more tense. He was in pain and the blows with the baseball bat seemed to have hurt him. One precise blow with the brass knuckles would be enough to knock him out.

The gorilla huffed and grumbled like a bear as he tried to get back to his feet.

That's when you spotted a rope behind a trash can. You quickly grabbed it and crawled on all fours to the giant before he could get up and wrapped it around his neck from behind.

He gurgled for air as you pulled the rope tight and tried with all your might to fight his resistance.

You lay on your back and tugged at the rope with all your body weight until your arms trembled, but the gorilla just didn't weaken.

Like a worm, he writhed on the ground, gasping and trying to get rid of the rope. Glancing at Woojin, you winced violently as a blow hit him hard in the face. His head was thrown back and as soon as you saw the blood on his cheek, it flooded your body with renewed energy.

A tortured cry escaped you and you tugged harder on the rope and finally the resistance weakened.

"You stupid asshole! Go to sleep already!", you pressed out and felt the rope cutting into your palms.

Woojin slowly straightened up and fought against the dazed state with all his might. He lunged again, throwing punches so fast you couldn't even follow them.

Just when your muscles were burning so badly you were afraid you'd have to let go, the huge body went limp and you let go of the rope as if you'd been burned by it.

Woojin dodged away under a hard punch at that moment, knocking the thug off his feet and letting a shower of punches rain down on him until he lay motionless.

Getting on his feet again, he swayed briefly and shook out his wrists before rushing to you and kneeling in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around your exposed body and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he took your face in his hands and said worriedly:

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

His voice rolled over with concern and you put a hand on his reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you," you replied, still in a raspy voice. In the pale light of the lantern, you could see the blood running down his cheek and you felt guilty that he had caught so many bruises for you.

"You're bleeding. Those fucking assholes..." he cursed, his voice dripping with anger as he saw the blood on your temple. The concern in his eyes overwhelmed you. There was nothing else for him but you at the moment and as he scanned you for more injuries, he saw your torn dress.

He quickly slipped out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around your body and deeply sucked in his scent that clung to it and it made you immediately feel safe.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Can you walk?" he asked carefully, putting an arm around your stomach to help you to your feet.

"Yes I can do it," you dismissed it, trying to look strong, but in truth your head was throbbing, it hurt to swallow, and your knees were as soft as jello. Reaching the gorilla, he carefully let go of you and picked up your purse, cell phone and wallet that were scattered around him.

He handed them to you and you watched as he knelt down to him and slapped his face.

"Hello!" he shouted.

"Wake up, asshole!", and slapped him again until he grumbled and slowly regained consciousness. He groaned in pain and writhed on the ground, making a pathetic picture.

Then Woojin straightened up again and put a foot right to his throat so he couldn't move any further. Anyway, the guy's face was so swollen that you could barely make out any structure.

Then Woojin looked to you and asked:

"How much did he steal from you?"

After a moment's thought and a look in your pocket, you answered truthfully:

"About 200.000 won."

He patted it down and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket where he had put your money earlier. Then he took out the bills, counted them out quietly, and handed you a wad of them while the gorilla watched, panting angrily.

"Then this is yours."

He took out the rest of the bills, which definitely were a total over 500.000 won. Apparently you weren't the first one they had robbed tonight.

Then Woojiin handed you the rest of the money as well.

"And this is for the unpleasant trouble he caused you, isn't it my friend?" he asked emphatically, pressing his foot on the gorilla's throat until he gurgled and nodded with a groan.

"Let's go," you muttered, glancing at the unconscious thugs. All of them were covered in blood. Woojin had really raged and from their injuries you could clearly see his anger like a handwriting. He quickly put an arm around you again to support you and together you walked out of the alley onto the street.

After a few shaky steps, he looked at you worried from the side:

"Are you sure you can walk?"

"Yes everything is fine. Stop worrying, it's annoying!" you drove at him a little too harshly than intended.

He raised his eyebrows and before you could react, he lifted you up bridal style and carried you across the street.

"What are you doing? Woojin what..." you stuttered, but he just smiled softly, which silenced you.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked after a while.

"I don't live far from here. I'll take you to my place."

He expected resistance, but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise when you gave in. You were too exhausted and going to his place really seemed like the best idea. Sighing, you relaxed in his arms for the first time and leaned your head against his chest.

His jacket warmed you and his strong arms made you feel safe and secure. He looked down at you as your eyes fell closed and smiled in relief.

At his front door, you opened your eyes again when he lowered you down. As he unlocked the door, he groaned in pain and held his side with a resigned laugh.

"Shit that guy hit me clean with that bat."

A shaky gasp escaped you. Seeing him hurt like that burdened you more than you thought it would and you wanted to take all the pain from him he was suffering because of you. You silently examined his profile and inevitably tears rose again when you saw the bleeding wound on his cheek.

"Woojin?" you murmured in a brittle voice and he looked at you concerned, afraid that something might be wrong with you. Astonished, he watched you step close to him and gently placing a hand against his cheek.

Your lower lip quivered dangerously and he wanted to say something to make the sad gleam in your eyes disappear. But when he said something, he usually made things worse and he didn't want to risk that right now, when you were so close to him. Your breath bounced against his face and his gaze was magically drawn to your lips.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and your voice broke on the last word as you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and a bruise was already forming underneath. The guilt was overwhelming and never would you have thought to care so much for the macho man.

Almost panicked, he shook his head and took your hands in his so you looked at him.

"No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all those assholes' fault!" he tried to cheer you up, but you just smiled tiredly.

Feverishly he considered and then grabbed his cheek, wincing slightly as it wound was already burning like hell.

"Oh that? That's nothing! I've gotten worse as a boxer!" he said, knocking his fist against his head.

"That's probably why I'm such a idiot, like you always say."

That actually made you smile and you even laughed slightly. He would have loved to jump in the air with relief, but his aching ribs wouldn't allow it. He squeezed your hands gently and then held the front door to the stairwell open for you.

"Come on. Let's go inside and get something good to eat."

Quickly you nodded and let him lead you to the door of his home. As he let you into his apartment and you looked around the room, you noticed that you had never been here before.

You were always at your place or out on the town.

"Do you live alone?" you asked as you kicked off your shoes and he turned on the lights.

The living room was tranquil and empty except for a small red sofa and a television. The kitchen was right next to it and the sink was stacked with pots, plates, silverware and even pizza boxes. Amused, you brushed a line through the dust at the large window through which the light from the street lamps shone.

"Yes. My father and I don't get along well... Tension flew regularly and so I thought it's better to keep my distance," he said, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom. Had I known you were coming, I might have cleaned up," he said and you looked over your shoulder in disbelief.

"You wouldn't have."

He snorted in amusement and pulled the blinds closed.

"Yeah you're probably right."

He gathered up a few clothes that were all over the place and tossed them into a pile that only grew.

Despite the mess, which you wouldn't have expected any other way from Woojin, it smelled incredibly good. It was the scent that clung to him as well and was burned into your head.

Meanwhile, the blood on your temple had dried and began to itch.

Actually, you didn't want to know what you looked like. You probably bore more resemblance to a scarecrow.

"Where's your bathroom? I'd like to take a shower."

He was already standing in the kitchen, throwing a handful of ramen into a pot. At the mere sight of it, your stomach grumbled like crazy.

"Down the hall. The door on the left. Towels should be in the closet," he called as he worked, and you smiled as he threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

Before you left, you turned back to him.

"Woojin? Can you please not tell Gunwoo about today? He'll just worry unnecessarily."

Woojin pressed his lips together and looked pained.

"I don't like lying to him."

"I know. I'll tell him. I promise. Just not today okay?"

With that, he seemed satisfied and he nodded.

"All right."

In the bathroom, you slipped out of his jacket and carefully folded it. Your dress, however, was beyond saving. You put the torn rag aside and looked at your body in the mirror.

Dark spots were already forming on your hips and on your neck and you got goosebumps when you thought of the large hands that had grabbed you there. Your makeup was completely smeared and there was a wound on your temple from the first blow.

Sighing, you opened your hair and marveled at all the beauty products lined up outside the shower. He had more conditioner than you did. However, that was the last thing you would complain about.

But you made a little mental note when you needed something again to get on his nerves.

As soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. The blood dyed the ground brown and with the water you also tried to wash away the events of the evening.

Hissing, you looked at your wrist. It was swollen from the pumch you had thrown and your knuckles were cracked.

How did the boys always do it without hurting themselves?

Fresh again and with renewed energy, you stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body.

"I feel like a new woman ," you commented as you walked into the kitchen, the smell of fresh ramen making your mouth water.

Woojin looked up from the two bowls he was preparing and when he saw your bare legs under the towel, he gulped first.

"I texted Gunwoo that you were drunk as fuck and now snoring on my couch."

That was still better than troubling him with the truth, which is why you nodded and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Thanks."

But you didn't seem to mind just standing in front of him in a towel. By being with Gunwoo all the time, he had often seen you in your pajamas, without makeup, or in sweatpants. It was almost as if he lived with you. Probably you had spent too much time together or you saw him as another brother. The thought tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't know why.

„Do you have anything I can wear?" you broke the awkward silence, and that's when he finally stopped staring at your legs.

"Sure," he quickly replied and disappeared into the only other door next to the bathroom.

When he came back he handed you a pair of yellow sweatpants and a black shirt with blue flames on it.

Disgusted, you lifted the clothes up with only two fingers.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you commented, and he laughed throatily.

"I'm sure it looks great on you!" he grinned and you wanted to punch him.

"Your clothing style is really questionable sometimes," you muttered, and it was obvious that he had picked out the ugliest things to tease you.

Or maybe he really meant it?

-> [2]

Taglist (open):

@littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @tasteskz-sworld

747 notes · View notes

angy-grrr · 6 days

Text

i understand ppl getting disappointing over today's ep, even tho I was expecting something like that it still look me by surprise too. But honestly, we got spoiled -we have been for a long time.

It means a lot to me the parallels between ep 7 season 7 and the memories ep where Izuku can't use black whip against Katsuki. Its so, so crazy. In this chat about romance, Midoriya gets extremely embarrassed over the concept of being someone's boyfriend, and Present Mic (one of the common narrators of the show) adds a little build up: he is really amazing and has earned great achievements, but for all of his triumphs, he is still, just a damn nerd.

He is still Izuku, that awkward kid whose childhood friend considers too nerdy to see or understand concepts like romance, boyfriend, and him getting involved in them. This call back to Katsuki is unnecessary, even more so considering he is not the narrator, but still, Present Mic considered the best way to describe him is to use the words his closest person says. With Izuku getting confessed, and him explaining what he considers to be a boyfriend's role, Katsuki's presence is still part of the scene. But what's even more interesting is the way he is also linked to the other part of the scene: what Izuku thinks about admiration and love.

When the word boyfriend comes out of Himiko's mouth is like his whole brain can just think about cheesy, typical movie stuff (thats what a boyfriend is, right? someone you hold hands with, share crepes and go to the amusement park with, right?) instead of feelings. Idk about how different the idea of love is in Japan compared to the one im used to, but Izuku seems to not know that, to be a boyfriend, first there are usually some feelings that make you want to become that -affection, curiosity, even love*. That word, boyfriend, is associated with many concepts, and instead of asking "boyfriend?! Like someone who makes you feel butterflies in your stomach?!" he focuses first on actions the boyfriend does -boyfriend is the one you hold hands with, the one who you share crepes with, the one who goes with you to the amusement park**.

But once Himiko explains her own idea of love and admiration he gets to focus on the latter part of the conversation, he does get what it feels like, but not like her. When its not associated with romance, its almost like he is allowed to express more freely about his emotions and opinions about love; he actually reveals some interesting stuff.

So first of all, Izuku seems to start thinking about it more deeply when Himiko explains that to her, being a couple means becoming the person she likes. That immediately reminds him of his own feelings towards his mentor -he does want to be like him, he gets that satisfaction, but not how that could be romance duh lmao, and he is the one who brings up the admiration aspect. He doesnt see it as a couple thing, or a romantic feeling, because he immediately associates it to pure admiration.

"Yeah I want to be like All Might my biggest idol, so I get how great it is to try it". That's his way of connecting to her, creating a bridge of understanding each other's perspectives -"I get this part, but I cant understand how you could not want to share the feelings of the person you love".

Then he follows it with "I dont want to hurt the person I love".

So, for Izuku, there's something more going on than just being completely clueless about everything -he does have an idea about what he wouldnt want to do to the person he loves, and an idea about what he does.

When he focus on the boyfriend or couple side, he gets all flustered, because those are embarrassing topics, and immediately jumps into a general, superficial idea about what those mean. Because... he doesnt get it when is described with those names -those names are related to things that look so unapproachable for a nerd like him. However, when he has something he relates to ("becoming the person... oh! like the admiration I have for All Might!"), he has a chance to actually explain his feelings and opinion about her confession.

Once this reaches an emotion he does understand, he spills how he wants to share the feelings the person he loves has. Which is... not that different from what Himiko feels. After all they both want to be closer to the people they love by having something the person has in common*** He also wants that kind of connection on a deeper, emotional level, rather than the superficial description he gave before; he is more free to express this when he can ignore the big name and connotation "couple" or "boyfriend" has.

When Izuku thinks about love without thinking about Love, he has an idea of what comes natural to him: to get closer to the person. Maybe thats why he doesnt think about Tenko the way Ochako does with Himiko -he feels empathy for his past and terrible present, currently he feels guilt over not being able to do more, reach out sooner, save... but he doesnt talk about feelings he wants to share with him like that. So, it makes sense thats how he views it.

For him, love is not only understanding the other, is sharing feelings of love. And the other key to Izuku's love is one Himiko cant ever reach: not wanting to hurt the person he loves.

This paralleling extra content shouldn't be that important, but considering Izuku is unable to use black whip when remembering Katsuki's sacrifice to him... doesnt it sound relevant?

Izuku confesses he doesnt want to hurt someone he loves, and it parallels a scene of him being... scared of hurting Kacchan the way AFO did, and deciding not to -wether it was consciously or not, black whip decided to not attack him.

He can train with him perfectly okay until his own quirk reminds him of Kacchan hurting.

Am i crazy? EDIT: alright I think I see some stuff about Izuku’s idea of love, and this will be the short, quirk version of this whole thing:

Admiration and wanting to be like someone, solely, it’s not enough for Izuku to consider it love —that’s what he does when it comes to All Might, and he knows he doesnt feel that way.

However, sharing the same feelings and not wanting to hurt them, thats way more important to him when it comes to love. Those, at least right now, are cores to his perspective of love.

He rejects Himiko's love because it has nothing to do with his from his point of view: she wants to hurt the people she loves, the biggest deal breaker, she doesnt share the same feelings as him, and she also considers imitation and admiration good enough to be considered love.

*it doesnt have to be romantic love, as platonic and queer platonic love and relationships can also start and continue to date and be wonderful for the people involved. Im adding this just to clarify there are multiple possibilities for a feeling of love, and its completely okay.

You can also date anyone for any reason really, including being confused by your feelings, expectations, social and peer pressure, etc., but im talking about what in theory would be the best case scenarios.

** This is in case we take into consideration the original meaning from the manga. In the anime, if the phrasing is actually different in Japanese as the subs suggest, then it would be "what a couple does".

*** The main issue that separates them is the abuse Toga has suffered that led to her seeing herself as a unlovable monster. For her, deep inside, she has to become the other person in order to be loved, bc she sees the goodness and precious things in others, and the only way she could ever be that... is if she literally stops being herself AAAAA MY POOR BABY

#grrr talking #bkdk #bakudeku #dkbk #dekubaku #decchan #himiko baby this chapter has brought up interesting things n I want to talk more about heeeeer #also another observation: ochako's reaction to deku's first idea of couple looks like she is “oh wow dude thats a lot…”#it kind of reminds me of that scene where she says “not like that -_-” when he compliments her a lot to hype her up #alsooo im still curious about tsuyu's idea of what ochako was going to do n im still thinking about how those precious feelings could be-#about himiko but whateveeeer #shes a girls girl

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eiraeths · 6 months

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do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways

SOAP

-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)

-gets cute aggression and bites people

-will also bite in a fight

-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty

-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth

-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)

-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense

-military grade anger issues

-never fully grew out of his punk phase

-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones

-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)

-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”

-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules

GHOST

-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads

-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.

-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)

-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)

-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)

-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)

-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth

-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes

-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck

-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt

GAZ

-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles

-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)

-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)

-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)

-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)

-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)

PRICE

-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)

-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)

-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick

-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)

-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since

-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid

-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye

GEN/MULTI

-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)

-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective

-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)

-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.

-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans

-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum

-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day

-all of them can hold a grudge for life

-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say

-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics

-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons

#task force 141 #cod headcanons #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #modern warefare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #cod price #john price #i need more gaz headcanons #modern warfare headcanons #cod 141 #141 headcanons #ear headcanons

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

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"in another life, i would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

synopsis !! all the opportunities he didn't take! forbidden love, status differences, different life goals, missed chances

characters !! zhongli, thoma

note !! please please read thoma's part I really like it for some reason- also everything everywhere all at once was amazing, i loved every second of it and it was just so beautiful! i also love all the cultural references aaaah

+ + +

Z H O N G L I

"Live a human life with me," You had once suggested to Rex Lapis, lounging on a floating island and watching the construction of what would eventually be known as Liyue Harbor.

He turns to you, confused look on his face, "A human life? Honestly, your ideas only develop in oddity over time."

You laugh, shrugging as the wind chimes along with you. Did Barbatos find it amusing as well?

"I'm being serious, Morax! The war is over, peace is settling, any issues can be handled by the humans and we can always guide them from a distance." You smile, "Live a human life with me. We can open a teahouse by the outskirts, we can visit the harbor on weekends, we can age ourselves and spend a human's lifetime together!"

He sighs, turning away, "I'll amuse you and visit you in my human form, but I have responsibilities I wish to take as their archon. You can play human without me."

"Aww, Morax-"

He rolls his eyes, amused, "Human lives are so fickle and short. Should you ever get tired of living their ways, you're welcome to join me in the skies again."

"Hmp. You might just regret not trying with me." You tease, and you—

Were right. He did regret it, because there was no time left for him to try with you. You were gone, eroded like the old immortals, withered in a grave like a human. The immortality of gods like you and him was never physical after all, and your body decayed too soon.

"So, finally decided to join the bandwagon, huh?" Venti grins at the geo archon, sipping from his drink of what's presumably wine. The teahouse is half full, a known heritage site for anyone who knows the history of good Liyuen tea.

"It's an interesting idea." Zhongli simply replies.

"And how are you finding the human life, my dear friend?"

"Strangely. . . I had expected it to be a sociable endeavor," He smiles, strained, "but it could also feel quite lonely."

T H O M A

Doing laundry and taxes with Thoma was impossible in the first place. Not when you were destined to marry someone of the same status; a political engagement which tied you down since the day you turned of age.

For you, this was an unbearable tragedy. The denial of being with someone you love.

For Thoma, this was as simple as nature's course. Of course you would marry a noble! He's simply a commoner, a mere house worker with the favor of his boss. It wouldn't make sense for you to marry him.

And perhaps that's why it infuriated you; how dare he think so little of himself?

"I just don't understand why you're not mad about this! I'm about to be married and you— you won't say anything about that?" You once yelled, frustration built to its peak at his nonchalance.

"(Name)," Thoma says softly, concerned.

"No, don't you start!" You cut off swiftly, "You'll only talk about how you're a commoner and I'm a noble and I'm sick of that! I'm sick of all of it!"

"I just don't know what you want me to say–"

"Say you love me! Ask me to run away!" The words are desperate on your tongue. "Archons, Thoma, I wish you could be more selfish. I'd give it all up for you." You sob, collapsing onto the wooden floor as your legs give out. He immediately kneels in front of you, ready to embrace.

In quiet whispers, he cups your face, brushing tears away with his thumb, "You know I can't ask that of you."

You sniffle, "I know, I know." and "I just wanted you to try."

#genshin #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #thoma #thoma x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin thoma #zhongli angst #thoma angst #genshin fanfic #genshin angst/comfort

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tears0fsatan · 6 months

Text

♰ ・ 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐄𝐍𝐃!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... nsfw! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned do not interact, dom human m!reader, sub sea monster!leviathan, size difference, loss of virginity (levi LOLLLLLL what a nerd), tentacles...

:¨·.·¨ ♥︎ a.n... obligatory levi sea monster fic but my take on it lololol (also yeah im posting this in december fuck you this is the most productive i've been in a year ok let me have this) someone wrote this really sweet tag on one of my recent works and it gen helped me out with my insecurity so thank you for that

#﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

how you found yourself in this situation, with your cock stuffed inside leviathan and his tentacles circled around your body, you weren't all too sure, all you knew was that he felt fucking amazing wrapped around you. the very mythical sea beast your ancestors had revered for thousands of years and the one they claimed to be the guardian of the seas was here writhing away beneath you, face flushed with a crimson hue that was nearly overshadowed by the fluorescent shine that matched the skin that made up his tentacles.

when you went out to search for the mysterious gaze sailors often sung about, you sure as hell hadn't thought about being entwined with the very creature you set out for.

the moment you left the reef, the heavy weight of a stare on your back ate away at your suspicions of the sailors tale that there was something watching them out at sea. it was the type of stare that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, as if sensing danger before your mind could catch up, one that reminded you just how large and desolating the ocean was.

everyone knew that a sailors story was, at its core, nothing more than an alcoholics drunken rambling. it was natural to take any tale to whichever poor bloke fell victim to their incoherent word vomit at face value and entertain them with faux interest and encouragement to break away sooner. so it came to no ones surprise that you wanted to prove their stories wrong, to confirm whether it was all hogwash to impress pretty little things into their bed or whether there really was something much bigger than a mere human such as yourself could comprehend.

all you wanted was a confirmation that such a legend could exist, everything else that occurred had be completely beyond your expectation.

a stray tentacle shakily grazed the side of your cheek, bringing you out of your short-lived flashback to focus on the watery eyes that stared up at you with poorly hidden jealousy paired with a slight pout. it took everything in you to not coo at the ancient sea beast who seemed upset that your mind was elsewhere while in the middle of being intimate with him, instead choosing to nuzzle your nose against his as a sort of unspoken act of apology.

if the tentacle relaxing against your cheek was anything to go by, it was safe to say he forgave your momentary distraction.

"don't worry, i was only thinking about you." a hot puff of air fanned over his face along with your whisper, the flush on his face growing redder. leviathan's eyes darted away, the eye contact becoming too intense for him to handle amongst all your other ministrations.

the honeyed words had more of an affect on him the longer he had to process what you uttered, for the moment they finally registered in his mind his walls clamped down around you. his reactions gave away his inexperience despite the poised demeanour he tried to mirror from, presumably, other ancient beings like himself.

"you're much more sensitive than i thought. is it because no one's ever touched you like this, leviathan?" while the idea of a sea monster who lurked beneath the waves and merely watched as intruders breached his home as they pleased had never been put in a situation like this before had you feeling more riled up than ever, it was still hard to swallow that a man this gorgeous had never been admired as he should've been.

you drank up the pretty crimson blush that, at this point, stained his cheeks, taking note of the way the shine spread across his face the more stimulated he was. it was far more adorable than it should've been for a creature double your size who could've killed you faster than you had the chance to think about it.

the weight of your stare bore down on him and in a moment of insecurity, his hands moved to cover his face in an attempt to shy away from your eyes. who could blame him? the intensity in which you looked at him with criminally inviting half lidded eyes that made him feel exposed, like one look from you had shed him of all the barriers he put up around himself and he was laid bare in front of you for you to consume whole.

even though he was the leviathan from human's stories whose unbridled envy and rage caused devastation to many from the onslaught of tsunami's and leaving only destruction in its wake, he couldn't help but feel powerless writhing underneath your gaze.

"y-you're staring too much!" he cried out, using one of his tentacles to cover his face now that his hands were out of commission. you tutted, the pretty vision below you suddenly taken away by a rogue tentacle you had no way of pushing away.

"well, i can't look at you if you keep hiding your face." in an attempt to soften his anxious mind, you rested your forehead against his, nosing gently at the tentacle that stood between you and him. despite the tenderness you showed through your nuzzling, your hips spoke of a different story. he stuttered at your rough pace, the earlier kindness for his inexperienced self nowhere to be found.

while keeping one hand wrapped around his wrists so they couldn't move and come between you and the captivating shimmering flush that dusted his face, you reached out for the tentacle that obstructed your view. it didn't struggle in your gentle hold, letting you pick it up and guide it to your face as you willed. little by little, you brought it closer to your mouth, darting your tongue out to take an experimental lick.

the texture was what you expected, similar to the feeling of the inside of his mouth but not exactly, the liquid that coated the tentacle akin to the saliva that dribbled down leviathan's chin with a slightly sweet undertone. it was slightly rougher than you initially imagined, perhaps due to the element that made the skin shine, like that of a softer cow tongue.

the other tentacles surrounding him flailed, whether in pleasure or overstimulation you couldn't quite determine. just as much as his reactions turned you on, your gestures were equally arousing to him and it showed in the way he clenched around you and the way each individual tentacle twitched in their own way.

if someone had told you that your search for the sea beast that sailors talked all high and mighty about was here, whimpering and whining at the slightest movement of your hips you wouldn't have believed them in a thousand years and yet, here you were. perhaps going with your impulsion and taking the chance to seek out the tales was the best decision you had ever made.

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the-s1lly-corner · 8 months

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A bit of a specific idea, but I had a platonic idea for all of the characters in the Amazing Digital Circus—

Maybe all of them with a Wally Darling-like Reader? An example of such being Reader also speaking in a monotone voice that is both a little unsettling yet friendly at the same time, always making eye contact and never looking away, being able to eat things by blinking, being a lot more aware than they seem, greeting people individually anytime they enter a room, etc etc.

TADC cast x wally darling type! Reader !

Still stuck on mobile so this post may be a little short and whacky <\3 + I'll be relying on this ask for wallys personality since I cant open other tabs without risking deleting my progress on this <\3 + I've never touched welcome home 😭😭

CAINE:

Honestly, I don't know anything about welcome home as stated above, but I think Caine would have a lot of the same habits; namely the eye contact and I can also see him doing the blink eating...

The only difference is that hes way high energy

I think he would think that you're just a silly lil fella, an interesting little thang, wants to study you under a microscope..

Thinks its endearing how you greet everyone personally.. loves when you do it to him since it makes him feel special n appreciated

POMNI:

Overall pomni is going to need a lot of time to get used to the weirdness of the circus, and this applies to getting over the unnerving feeling she gets around you

Probably becomes speechless and does the face when you blink-eat

You know...

Just stares at where the food item once was... how did you do that...? What are you going to consume next? Why are you looking her in the eye like that?

..oh you're just telling her you enjoyed the snack you've brought

JAX:

As per usual I'm writing these all out of order, and I happen to be writing jax after I did zooble

I think jax wouldnt just think you're unsettling, I think he would think you're creepy

Now does he think you're a threat? Personally I don't think he would go as far as to classify you as such

Watches in horror as you blink and consume his sour gummy candies

Okay now this is war

You guys sometimes have unspoken staring contests, you usually tend to win them

Actually now that he thinks about it you dont seem to blink outside of eating...

RAGATHA:

"Oh, you're just a quirky lil fella!" Pretty much

Always thanks you when you greet her, she makes it a habit to greet you back when you enter a room

Tends to give you your favorite snacks, I think, but I think this can pass as a general hc rather than being specific to this post !

Little put off by the eye contact but does not turn away or show any discomfort; is able to push through it pretty well !

KINGER:

Okay so I know I mentioned some other characters being creeped out by the eye contact but I think kinger would be the most put off, asides gangle

But also I can totally see kinger having a staring problem; be it because hes lost in his thought and happens to be staring or some other thing

Accidental staring contests between you two/j

Feels like a real king when you personally greet him, probably bows a little and does a lil gesture with his hands before returning the greeting

Similar reaction as pomni when you blink-eat

Where did the food go??????

ZOOBLE:

I must admit, I think zooble would find you creepy, too <\3, or at least a little unsettling.. like sure they wont be mean to you unlike SOMEONE but they're a little put off by your odd behaviors

Though they would get accustomed to it in time, I think, especially since I have a whole "zooble ultimately doesnt care much about what's going as a means to cope w/ the digital circus as well as that just being their personality"

Does not like the eye contact, though; zooble seems like the type who wouldnt like eye contact... maybe I'm self projecting, though...

The eye contact definitely is what fed into the unsettling factor for them..

GANGLE:

The eye contact makes her so so nervous, she doesnt really have eyes the same way everyone else does but it still... makes her feel off

Similar to Caine she does feel nice when you greet her.. yes she knows out do it for everyone, but that doesnt dismiss the nice feeling she gets that someone is. Well being nice to her...

Shed like your voice, I think, oddly soothing and it's not too bold and out there.. not overwhelming, you know?

Not many ideas for gangle today <\3

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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dinas-a-bird · 11 months

Note

Okay so I’m imma request something you don’t have to do it!! But I love your work and uh idk I had an idea so.

Maybe dom g!p Abby and fem sub reader going to celebrate pride. On the way someone asks reader for their number and reader can’t say no so they say yes. Abby gets all pissed because she’s jealous. Anyways the person who asked reader for their number sees them kissing and Abby sees them as well getting all touchy with reader till the other person leaves. Well Abby fucks reader in a toilette or something to show them who they belong to. Idk if that makes sense😭. Also I got a huge breeding kink so if you could add it, that would be great.

Thank youuuu<3

I LOVED WRITING THIS REQUEST-anyway sorry this took so long my lovely anon, I started it then got writers block🥲 BUT I MANAGED TO FINALLY FINISH IT YIPPIE! I did change the request a little with how abby got jealous so I hope that is okay, but the smut is smutty and I tried my best to incorporate the breeding kink as well! this whole one-shot had a mind of its own once I got going

MINORS DNI

Unexpected Attention

Pairing: dom g!p Abby Anderson x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering r!receiving, pet-names (good girl, princess, baby, sweet girl), dom!Abby, sub!reader, possessive!Abby, g!p!Abby, breeding kink, implied after care, penetration r!receiving, multiple orgasms, praise, degrading(blink and you'll miss it), use of y/n, modern AU

Summary: Ellie wants your number, Abby has other plans.

Word Count: 1,924

A/N: As always comments are appreciated and sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes, enjoy!

It is a bright and vibrant day as you and Abby make your way to the pride parade being held downtown, hand in hand. As you continue walking you start to see the streets lined with colorful banners, people walking about celebrating. You finally make it to the celebration and Abby looks over to you grinning, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "Isn't this amazing, y/n?" she says, raising her voice to be heard over the cheerful crowd.

You nod, a smile spreading across your face. "It's incredible, Abs. I'm so glad you convinced me to come."

Soon you both find a spot to stand to watch the parade floats ride by. Abby looks around searching for something and as soon as she sees it she smiles and looks back down at you. “I’m going to head inside to the restroom,” She points over her shoulder to a restaurant not too far away, “You okay standing here and saving my spot till I get back?” Typically, Abby wouldn't dare leave you alone in a crowd like this, but because the restaurant was so close by she thought nothing would happen to you in the span of a couple minutes.

You peek around her, eyeing the building, you nod your head, “I’ll be okay Abs. Just be quick please.” She kisses your forehead, mumbling reassurances, before she heads off.

As you wait, you keep your eyes glued to the building your girlfriend entered. Only a minute or so has passed when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. “Hey cutie.” Spinning around you see a slender woman, who's wearing a confident smirk, standing inches away from you.

As the woman introduces herself as Ellie, you can’t help but notice her bold and flirtatious demeanor, something Abby would definitely not approve of. Her smirk and confident stance make it clear that she has an interest in you. Your heart races slightly, unsure of how to handle this situation.

"Hey," you reply, trying to maintain a friendly tone despite feeling a little uneasy. "I'm y/n."

Ellie's eyes gleam with amusement as she leans in closer. "Y/n, huh? That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl," she compliments, her words laced with charm.

You blush slightly, feeling a mix of flattery and discomfort, mostly discomfort. "Thank you… Ellie. It's nice to meet you."

She chuckles, her eyes lingering on yours. "Likewise. You know, I couldn't help but notice you from across the crowd. You really stood out."

You shift uncomfortably, glancing around for Abby's return. "Oh, well, thank you. It's a fun day to stand out… I guess."

Ellie's smirk only grows wider, clearly enjoying the thought of having some kind of effect on you. "You're definitely not wrong about that. So, how about we exchange numbers? Maybe we can hang out sometime," she suggests. Leaning in closer she puts her phone in your empty hand.

You hesitate, Abby's possessiveness lingering in the back of your mind. But before you can respond, a voice cuts through the air, causing both you and Ellie to turn.

Abby is striding back towards you with purpose in her step. Her eyes lock onto Ellie, and you see her jaw clench slightly as she approaches. "Hey, sorry it took a bit longer than I thought," Abby looks at you, completely ignoring Ellie's presence.

"It's okay, Abs. This is Ellie. She was just..talking to me," you reply, gesturing towards the woman beside you.

Abby's eyes narrow slightly, but she forces a disingenuine smile. "Oh, hi Ellie. I'm Abby," she says, extending her hand to the woman.

Ellie takes Abby's hand, her smirk still in place. "Nice to meet you, Abby. Y/n here is quite the charmer," she gives you a playful wink.

Abby's grip tightens slightly on Ellie's hand, her expression becoming cold. "Yeah, I know.” Ellie seems almost unfazed by Abby’s harsh grip as they shake hands, almost relishing the challenge. Sensing the tension between the two, you decide to speak up.

"Actually, Ellie was just about to leave Abs," you say, placing the girl's phone in her unoccupied hand. "We were just having a quick chat. Right, Ellie?"

Ellie glances at you and then back at Abby, seemingly enjoying the drama unfolding before her. "Yeah, you're right. I should get going. It was nice meeting both of you." She gives you one last lingering look before walking away.

As soon as Ellie is out of earshot, Abby turns to you, her expression stern. "What was that about?"

You sigh, feeling guilty for the interaction. "I didn't expect her to approach me like that, Abs. She just started flirting with me and then asked to exchange numbers. But I didn’t put mine in her phone Abby, I promise."

Abby's jaw tightens again, and she takes a deep breath before mumbling. "Fuck.. alright c’mon." She grips your hand and leads you out of the crowd, you glance back and see Ellie watching you both with a playful smirk. You try to shake the image out of your mind as you look back up at your girlfriend.

“Abs, where are we goin?” Your voice cracks. Her gaze doesn't shift as she mumbles something, her voice drowned out by the parade. Soon she stops and opens a door, you look up and realize it's the same restaurant she entered earlier that evening. Once inside Abby grips your hand tight and leads you through the dining area to the back where the restrooms are located. Once there she ushers you inside and locks the door behind her.

Before you can ask what is happening, Abby pins you against the sink, your ass pressing into the growing bulge in her jeans. "I know you where going to give that fucking girl your number, if you're really that desperate to be fucked, then having my cock buried deep inside of you in a public restroom should be perfect. Don't you think?" You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out is a pitiful whine as Abby's calloused hands push down your pants and underwear.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, right? Or would you rather me go out there and find Ellie?" Abby hisses into your ear.

"I'll be...be good." you choke out, your eyes closing as you feel Abby’s fingers slipping in between your folds.

"Fuck.. your so wet.. Is this all for me? Or is it for her?" Abby asks as she roughly inserts two of her fingers into you.

"All for you Abs" you manage to get out in between little whimpers and moans. After a couple more thrusts she pulls out her fingers and looks at them.

"You wet enough for me to stick a third finger in you, get you ready for my cock?" You manage to open your mouth but all that falls out of it are soft cries for her to put her fingers back. "When I ask you a question I expect an answer princess." You manage to let out a soft, "get me ready for your cock please."

"Good girl." She leans back into you, three of her fingers diving into your soaked pussy. "I'm going to make you mine," she growls her breath hot on your neck, "you're going to get so wet and hot for my cock that you won't be able to stop yourself from coming all over my fingers before I give it to you."

"'m yours please." you let out a choked sob of pleasure as she pumps her fingers harder.

"That's my good girl." She lets out a loud groan as she watches her fingers, stretching you open as she pushes them in as far as she can get them. "Your so fucking wet.. and so tight. I can feel you tightening 'round my fingers baby. You think you deserve to cum?" she asks, her finger pumping into you as she watches you.

"Yes!" you let out in a throaty moan, her finger thrusting into you as you feel yourself closing around her. "Please please.. let me cum!" Abby lets out a low groan as she pushes her fingers in deeper.

"Cum for me y/n, show me who you belong to."

"I belong to you! Abby, I'm yours!" You cry out as your legs start to shake.

"Fuck, thats it princess" Abby soothes as she holds you down by your hips, her fingers pumping into you as you cum around them. "You think your ready for my cock now? You think you deserve it" She kisses your neck, sucking a mark into the soft skin. A choked out please is all you can manage before you feel Abby remove her fingers and start pulling on her jeans and boxers behind you.

"I'm going to cum in you princess, you're going to be mine, and you're going to love it." you whine at her words and try to press your ass into her member. "You like that don't you dirty girl? The thought of me fucking a baby into that sweet cunt of yours?" Her words sound degrading but you can't help but feel your slick run down your thighs as she says them.

"please.. Abs..need it" you whimper.

"Shhh..sweet girl...i'll make sure not a drop of my cum leaves your pretty pussy." Abby's lips touch your ear, her hand guiding her cock to your entrance. She gently pushes the head of her thick member into you, then inches of her length until she's fully buried inside. After giving you a moment to adjust she slowly starts moving, sliding in and out of you as you whimper and moan in pleasure.

"You're taking me so well. I bet Ellie could never fuck you as well as I do." Abby whispers to you as she moves your hips, forcing her cock in and out of you at a faster pace.

"Please... please…’m yours..” you beg, feeling her fingers at your clit as she moves into you. "want you to breed me...need it Abs" You feel Abbys mouth start to leave sloppy kisses on your neck as she moans.

"you're such a good girl for me" she mumbles into your neck, her hips slamming into yours. "I'm going to make you feel so good. 'm gonna fill you up so good."

you choke back a sob as you feel your abdomen tightening. "'m gonna cum" you manage to say.

"Wait princess 'm almost there." Abby lets out a low groan as she thrusts faster. "Gonna fill you up with my seed...you're going to be so full of me." After a couple more thrusts Abby feels her thighs tighten. "fuck..cum with me" she begs as she thrusts harder.

“I'm cumming" you cry out, your body clenching around her as you feel your walls clamp down and milk her seed inside you. "Fuck...I love you Abby...I love you so much" you sob as she pulls her mouth away and kisses your ear.

"I love you too" she whispers before pulling her cock out of you. Abby grabs some paper towels and begins to clean you up as best she can. Once you both are cleaned up and redressed Abby leans in and engulfs you in a comforting hug. "How about we go home and take a nice bath?" She asks, kissing the top of your head.

Nodding your head you sigh into her chest, "I'd like that." Abby smiles at you as she steps away and begins to unlock the bathroom door.

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