#fuck off im not tagging every character here

[krongulous]

Hiii

TOP-10 Favorite scout characters from Ina? 👀👀👀

Ooohhh this is gonna be fun

10. Tanno Tatsuhiko, I found him in Ehime while playing through blizzard and I just knew I needed him

9. Zokuseiga Nekketsu, I ended up giving him Big Bang in another play through and actually ended up fully levelling up the move!

8. Katsumata Kazuki, I like him a lot because of his description about “nursing a rivalry with footballers” besides that he’s a great defender (despite being listed as a keeper)

7. Rakurai Gorou, I just like his design, and he’s another great choice for a defender if you ever go through the GO games!

6. The tryout trio, if anyone doesn’t remember these three, they’re the guys who failed the try out for Raimon, but in the games you can actually recruit them after the match with Gassan Kunimitsu. Also I like how for Oshii and Kotegawa, the game just lets you know they aren’t good people, Oshii is described as self-centered and Kotegawa literally cheats to win, so obviously I used them both (bonus points if anyone remembers when Oshii was my pfp AND banner)

5. Hammer, he was my best midfielder in my first GO light playthrough, when I get GO shadow I’m definitely using him again, also he’s just baby Tobitaka, look at his pompadour!

4. Misato Irita, not only do I love his design but the fact his nickname in Japan is just Military is amazing and I only found out after looking up the Japanese names since I know they’re preferred in the fandom (sorry if I look like a huge geek using them)

3. Miyasaka Ryou, I don’t know if he counts since he appeared in the anime or whatever but I’ll put him here anyway since I like how in IE2 he will only join your team if you’ve got Kazemaru with you, I like how they acknowledge their friendship!

2. Raimei Jin, he’s always given me the impression that he was meant to be the original Shishido, like they’re both midfielders and Raimei definitely has that design that stands out, idk maybe I’m wrong but I’ve just thought that before they designed Shishido, they had Raimei

1. The motherfucking Sagaminator, he’s a real mystery, he doesn’t have a second name and even then his only names are Sagaminator or Saggy like it just radiates badass energy and for that he is my favourite scout, Godspeed Sagaminator you Johnny Bravo looking motherfucker you

Honourable mention goes to Hosoe Shigeshi who’s just a peeping Tom you recruit in the first game by finding him spying on the girls changing room, I’d post an image but Google’s free and I’ve reached the image limit

AND CARD, I FORGOT THE CARD BROTHERS THEY’RE MY SKRUNGOS TOO

Anyway Kiki, I hope this super long answer is what you wanted, because I had fun writing it

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!

[dont-be-late-to-the-dance]

Tried to get back into my Serrennedy childhood friend AU. And if I am allowed to be very personal on main for a moment, I think my being unable to work on a fic where Leon has a shit load of trauma because of my trauma is Something

And I'm realizing there's probably a lot more to unpack than I thought. I thought the reason trying to reread any of it and working on the draft for the next chapter was simply because I wrote it while in the traumatic situation, so it reminded me of it.

I didn't ever intentionally channel what I was going through into the fic… but it slipped in. Leon's hair not being washed often enough. One of the many, MANY traumatic things that happened this year was our landlord illegally having our water shut off, which we pretty much just lived with because we didn't think it was worth fighting. So I did go an extended period of time without bathing. (We had a gym membership where we could shower, but I have sensory issues with showers so :/)

Leon having no one except Luis. That's not a more specific trauma, but I've struggled with feeling lonely for a long ass time now, and the more recent big trauma fest definitely worsened the problem, because literally no one knows the full extent of it. I can't really talk about it because some of it is stuff that's been slowly building for years and the trauma dumps would have their own trauma dumps. Even with a couple close friends, that already know the background and wouldn't need all the context, I haven't felt like I could talk about it because a lot of the most traumatic elements are almost entirely self inflicted, which makes it embarrassing to admit to. (Things would have been traumatic no matter what, but it could have been significantly less traumatic.)

The dirty hair and loneliness are currently the only connections to my personal trauma that I'm aware of, but I'm certain more of it slipped in that I'd notice if I reread all of it. After having the realization about those, I just had to close everything I had open related to it because I'm just. Not ready to unpack all of that.

I think unpacking it will be necessary and therapeutic, but it'll be messy and probably get worse before it gets better, and the one very amazing event that served as my lifeline to keep going and not just give up on life when I was in the thick of the bad situation is in less than a week, and there's absolutely no way I'm going to risk jeopardizing my enjoyment of it by falling apart before it.

[frogbestfriend]

Mmm as much as i love discussing stuff (ideas, lore, etc.), not everythang has to be. A discussion. Sometimes u can just say one-off opinions. Sometimes u can just say something stupid and that's that. Turning everything into a discussion is quite tiring and, at times, it could be off-putting and might make u seem like u mean something else. Or imply that u think someone is too stupid (e.g., to click around a website -_-)

[buckys-metal-arm]

Look man I'm not a fan of Peggy in What If either but the ferocity some of y'all hate her with feels feels really excessive

and before anyone goes "tHen DoN't lOoK aT iT" it's not like I go fuckin looking for it the Bucky tag and the What If tag have been clogged with it recently in light of the show and i am. So tired.

[dromaeo-sauridae]

lol

[pupcuck]

SCHADENFREUDE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism

note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

rotten luck

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.

You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–

“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.

“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.

“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.

Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.

You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.

Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.

At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.

Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.

You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.

He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.

Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.

You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.

“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.

“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.

“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.

“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.

“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.

“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”

“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.

Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.

“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.

“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.

“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”

“No…”

Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.

Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.

“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”

When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”

Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.

“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.

“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”

“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”

“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.

“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”

“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”

“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.

It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.

“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.

Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.

The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.

“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.

Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.

There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–

“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.

“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.

“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.

“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.

“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”

“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.

“You look like you need to shit really bad.”

“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.

Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.

“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.

“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.

“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.

“What about ‘em?”

“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.

“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.

“That’s what I like about them!”

Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.

“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”

“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”

A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.

“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.

Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–

He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.

“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.

“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”

Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.

Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.

“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.

The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.

Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.

Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.

‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.

“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“

“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”

“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”

“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.

“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.

“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.

“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.

He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”

“No, Leon…”

Click!

That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.

“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”

“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.

[n3ptoonz]

Part 2 of MK1 men pushing the reader to a wall while kissing them, please? 😊

i mean i GUESS i can do that 🤭 since you asked so nicely! part one here

how liu kang, reiko, sub-zero, havik, johnny cage, scorpion, and geras go about pushing reader to the wall while kissing them

just know it may not show the long pauses i took while writing this but know IT HAPPENED!! THE THINGS I DO FOR YALL🫵🏾don't say i never did none😫

havik's regeneration mentioned. i've also been told havik looks like that on purpose so like, let's act like he can make his face go back to where it was for the sake of shits, giggles, and pandering XD

tags: @luna18night20 @momopad

warnings: suggestive, fluff elements, sphinx tried her best, there will not be a part 3 im sorry y'all 💔

Liu Kang

Liu Kang was rarely ever rough with you. In fact, the only way he'd do it is if you either verbally say it's fine, or if he knows you're poking the bear just to get a reaction. And when you get a reaction...there's no going back. You've kissed with your back to the wall several times, and every time was gentle and loving and laced with care. However, if you've presented that you were that desperate for him to give you the attention you deserve, he will gladly be a little rougher in pushing you back with his lips on yours. Just be prepared for him to leave some handprints on your waist.

Reiko

Reiko is a warrior. Hardened by battle and discipline, so the way he kisses you usually starts off that way. He can't help it. Not only is it the way he was raised and what he was told a man is "supposed to be", but it also came with how his partners were to be treated. When it came to you his sense of duty and protection spiked every single time. So here you were, well within his unintentional bear hug as your back was against the wall. His kisses always started off like he was going away to war/fight (because he usually was) but he would eventually melt and become smoother because you're by his side.

Sub-Zero

Bi-Han, a truly complex character. I believe that whoever captures his heart will be the main obsession in his life. In this case, it is you. He constantly needs to be on you, around you, see you, hear you, you name it. He can't get enough of your lips and this is especially apparent the way he's almost always pushing you to the wall while kissing you. Can we blame him? He's a tall hunk of touch-starved and the only thing that will satiate that hunger is roughly making out with you every chance he gets all while still knowing how to treat you like a porcelain antique.

Havik

Havik...this guy. Even though I'm pretty sure it's not canon I still feel like he'd regenerate and degenerate for fun and for different purposes/occasions. For the sake of my sanity I can say I found him fine as hell before his face got fucked up, and so did you. But you don't mind him either way because you love his crazy ass. Allow me to set the scene: You say something snappy to get his attention and boom...he regenerates his facial wounds just to back you against the wall and shut you up with pure smugness and arrogance behind his kiss. But, this is what you wanted, nonetheless. And you'd do it again!

Johnny Cage

Who's to say Johnny Cage wouldn't try to get you in one of his films just so he could keep getting takes of him backing you to a wall and kissing you? For Elder God's sakes, he's the one who wrote the script! And of course it's something dramatic like him being a villain that captures the hero and tries to convince them to ditch their position to be with him. Dude would totally think he's Loki (did i say that bc i think it would be hot if Loki did that to me? ..don't worry about it!) He's for sure fucking up his takes on purpose and you know this, but you only pretend to be irritated and maybe even fuck up a few yourself.

Scorpion

Kuai Liang, the romantic this man is. Like Liu Kang, he's never rough with you. Except it would take a little more convincing to let him know it's fine for him to act on his feelings when he wants to. With him, his kisses are slow and gentle. They will always start off like that even if he has a hard day. All he wants is to hold you, but it's like whenever your back hits the wall a gear starts turning in his brain. The idea of you having nowhere to go and enjoying it? Not even an Elder God is pulling him from your embrace. He gets handsy and a lot more affectionate around this time; he's kissing your face, neck, and shoulders too, because why the hell not?

Geras

Geras is a special case. He's an immortal who has never experienced romantic love before. So naturally you will have to teach him some things and even point out things he has observed that can be taken as romantic love. But he's still a man who has seen a lot, so this guy knows what kissing is and how to kiss. Surely you didn't think this giant fine ass immortal being didn't know how to treat his partner? Crazy talk! Understand that when you introduce the classic wall kiss by showing him what to do, he's leaning in to kiss you as he lifts you in his arms with no effort to be found and there won't be kissing going on much longer!

a/n: thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed! collapses onto the ground

[ncteez]

Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike.  or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend. 

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end. 

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will. 

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr,  don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye  (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.) 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

~

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body. 

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person. 

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt. 

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath. 

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground. 

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping. 

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound. 

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it. 

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss. 

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy. 

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side. 

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead. 

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him. 

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand. 

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no. 

~

“Damn, you guys really fucked  him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building. 

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him. 

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.” 

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes. 

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines. 

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night. 

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot. 

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!” 

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods. 

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.” 

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother  some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable. 

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it. 

~ 

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building. 

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?” 

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off. 

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.” 

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right? 

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face. 

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It  has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse. 

~

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food. 

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother. 

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor. 

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again. 

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious. 

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor. 

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight. 

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up. 

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading. 

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him. 

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open. 

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,” 

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment. 

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?” 

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water. 

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

~

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that. 

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it. 

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller. 

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.” 

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you. 

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really. 

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt. 

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?” 

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?” 

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.” 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is? 

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head. 

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh. 

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon. 

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.” 

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation? 

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at. 

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.” 

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging. 

~

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy. 

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted. 

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?” 

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way. 

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust. 

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi. 

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it. 

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it. 

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely. 

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him. 

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man. 

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over. 

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it. 

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.” 

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation? 

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.” 

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head. 

“I bet you would.” 

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him. 

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs. 

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you. 

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it. 

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair. 

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground. 

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.” 

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too. 

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question. 

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi. 

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying. 

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut. 

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him. 

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?” 

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view. 

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips. 

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier. 

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer. 

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it. 

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you. 

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs. 

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him. 

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life. 

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right? 

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events. 

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.” 

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound. 

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock. 

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck. 

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time. 

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever. 

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him. 

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him. 

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.” 

Internally, your heart is racing. 

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him. 

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.” 

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use. 

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.” 

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh. 

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.” 

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him. 

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.” 

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine. 

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.” 

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive. 

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him. 

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?” 

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him. 

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair. 

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes. 

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him. 

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this. 

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment. 

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it. 

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up. 

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family. 

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance. 

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity. 

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way. 

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself. 

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this. 

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do. 

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too. 

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels. 

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him. 

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric. 

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right? 

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body. 

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.” 

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.” 

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you. 

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.” 

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length. 

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.” 

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes. 

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?” 

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body. 

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be. 

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity. 

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure. 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath. 

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you. 

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him. 

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.” 

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?” 

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you. 

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting. 

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him. 

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining. 

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest. 

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him. 

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does. 

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you. 

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit. 

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw. 

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent. 

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more. 

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him. 

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.” 

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you. 

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t. 

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in. 

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows. 

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him” 

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes. 

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly. 

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore.  You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started. 

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you. 

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

~

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees. 

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems. 

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing. 

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is. 

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him. 

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry. 

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him. 

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice. 

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late. 

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in. 

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will. 

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.” 

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first. 

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.” 

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again. 

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say. 

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside. 

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this. 

“Just tell me where to go.”

~ 

[gimmeurtmi]

audience — 2min

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader feat. lee minho

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, threesome, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, exhibitionism, wet dreams, tiny mention of attack on titan, brief mention of covid, government mandated isolation, degradation kink (like, huge one!), sub!reader, dom!minho, softdom!seungmin, use of words like “baby, dumb, little girl, good girl, stupid, dumbass”, spanking, light choking, fingering, multiple orgasms, minho is an ass man we know, i really really lost my mind here guys. i will never get it back.

inspo: requested by anon! who is also now my fav person. *whispers back* how do you feel about min & y/n (ft. another member of your choice) engaging in exhibitionism 🧐 y/n has a wet dream about said member and it’s kept her restless and horny — obviously seungmin takes note and asks whats going on and y/ns all like nooo youre gonna think im weird and i feel bad i don’t want you to hate me but he’s quick to shut that down and reassures her that he’s into it too because no matter what y/n will always belong to him

notes: when i read this request i had two ideas. this, surprisingly, is the tamer one. if y’all want might write a part two with that second much more unhinged idea. rbs and feedback are appreciated 🫶🏻

{ wc: 5195 }

You woke up in a sweat, remembering bits and pieces of your dream. It was sexual, extremely sexual—beyond anything you’ve ever done in your real life. You were in the middle of a house party, fucking someone on the couch while everyone was watching and cheering you on. They were making suggestions at the pair of you, and your partner was taking every idea to heart. What names to call you, what position to put you in, if he should let you cum or not.

It was so dirty and so good.

When you woke up and quickly went to pee you realised your panties were completely soaked through, and so were your pyjamas.

You quickly hopped in the shower, cleaning the mess off your thighs and getting ready for the day.

As you were brushing your teeth you couldn’t help but replay the parts you remembered from your dream, your thighs clenching as you thought about how deep he thrust inside you. And then suddenly an image came into your brain. You knew it wasn’t your boyfriend, Seungmin, who was fucking you in the dream. But you didn’t think you’d remember the face of who it was. And then you did.

It was Minho.

Minho, your boyfriend’s roommate and best friend. Who you never even considered you could have a wet dream about.

You felt shame take over your skin as you walked into the living room, needing something to drink to cool you down.

It wasn’t like you never had wet dreams. You had them quite often, and they weren’t often about your boyfriend either. He found it hilarious when you would wake up and tell him all about the sex you were having with your favourite anime character, or the blow job you just gave to the actor from whatever show you were watching.

You never thought you’d dream about anyone you knew in real life, let alone someone who was so close to you. So close to your boyfriend.

After you finished your breakfast you stood by the sink to wash up after yourself, a pair of hands snaking around your stomach from behind.

“Where did you go?” Seungmin’s soft voice whispered down your ear, still coated with sleep.

“Oh, I just wanted some food,” you excused.

“You were making those noises in your sleep again,” you heard more than saw his smirk, “did Levi fuck you good this time?”

“What? No! What are you talking about?” You escaped from his grip, getting your bottle and filling it with water. It was full already, so you dipped the whole container down the drain and then refilled it—just to save yourself from having to look at Seungmin with how warm your face felt at his question.

He knew you too well.

“Was it Mikasa, then?” He raised his eyebrows in glee.

“Shut up,” you chuckled at him.

“I wanna hear the dream,” he whined at you, “they’re always so good.”

“Pervert,” you shifted the attention to him, or more like tried. You knew how stubborn he could get, and your boyfriend wouldn’t stop until he heard the story. You wondered if you could get away with lying to him about the subject of your fantasy.

“Okay, fine. But you can’t judge!” You sent him a warning finger. Seungmin smiled at you, crossed his heart with his finger, and waited enthusiastically to hear more.

“I was at a party fucking someone in front of everyone else,” you said quickly. You couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but you still saw the expression on his face. Bewilderment and horniness and a hint of pride were the only emotions you could see.

“Everyone else?” He promoted, taking a step closer to you.

“Yeah, they were like… cheering and stuff.”

“Cheering?” You nodded.

“So,” his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips by your ear, “the whole room was domming you?”

“Yeah, something like that,” you sighed.

“Fuck,” he grabbed your hips, squeezing them. “No wonder you were so loud this time. Sounds like a really good dream.”

You looked up into his eyes, his pupils swimming with lust as he licked over his lips. Maybe Seungmin liked that fantasy as much as you did—even though neither of you have ever talked about something like that before.

His fingers slipped under your baggy shirt, gripping your skin.

“Didn’t think you liked an audience,” he said, planting a soft kiss by your ear.

He felt your cheek heating up, noticed how you weren’t even teasing him back. So he moved in front of your face, cocking his head to the side.

“Why are you shy, bubs?” You didn’t answer. “I’m sorry,” he pulled away from you, noticing you were extremely stiff now, “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, Minnie, it’s fine!” You promised him quickly. “I’m just… embarrassed.”

“From me?” He almost gasped.

“The dream in general. It was so vivid and hot and,” you sighed, finding the kitchen floor so extremely interesting.

“Then why are you embarrassed? You have hot dreams a lot, they’re the highlight of most of my mornings,” he smiled at you. “Who was it?”

You felt your heart drop. You couldn’t possibly tell him. It was weird, and wrong, and you were afraid it would upset him too much. “Uh, no one special.”

“Aw, someone else got to fuck my horny little girl,” he faked pouted at you. Seungmin honestly didn’t care at all that it wasn’t him in the dreams, because it was usually him who made them come true when you woke up. He just loved knowing what it was that got you all hot and bothered, even if the answer was sometimes a superhero or a fake lawyer or one time that guy from Atlantis.

“Don’t start,” you blushed, feeling the heat travel down your body and settle in your core at his nickname.

“Okay,” he conceded, “but you usually wake up really needy from these dreams so I thought I could help you out.”

“You’re so kind and selfless,” you teased, smirking at how he was suggesting it was only you that needed help—like you couldn’t see the semi in his shorts.

“I am those things, yes,” he smiled innocently at you.

“What are you?” Felix asked, entering the kitchen and going straight to the fridge. He took out a two litre bottle and started chugging it as he waited for your answer.

“I was just telling Minnie how he’s the cutest most beautiful boyfriend ever,” you smirked, as it was now your boyfriend’s turn to blush.

“Cute,” Felix smiled, before he started preparing his breakfast.

You jumped on the counter as the three of you started talking about the latest Marvel film and when you could all go and watch it, Seungmin slotting in between your legs as he faced Felix.

He hooked his hands under your knees as the conversation spiralled, his roommate not at all bothered by the physical affection between you two.

At this point you practically lived at the dorm, and were very used to the boys’ presence—as they were to yours.

When Jeongin woke up he didn’t even notice any of you in the kitchen until he started drinking his coffee.

Then he asked who wanted to join his shopping trip later this week.

“Can I come?” You asked eagerly, kicking your legs up around Seungmin’s body. He caught your calves up in the air then let you swing them back down, playing with your knees absentmindedly.

“Sure,” Jeongin smiled at you, taking a bite of the food Felix prepared for them.

“Yah!” You heard a shout down the hallway as the door opened then closed quickly. “You guys need to stop ordering so much shit!”

“It wasn’t me this time!” Felix yelled quickly, eyes wide as he looked towards the source of the voice.

Minho walked into the kitchen, five packages in his arms as a scowl painted his face.

He dropped them on the table with a bang, giving each of his roommates a death stare.

Jeongin happily ignored it, grabbing the first package on the pile and opening it with an excited dance in his seat. Then Seungmin walked away from you and picked up the other packages, tearing them apart quickly.

You realised you didn’t close your legs since he moved away. Minho was looking at you.

Your whole body was on fire as you watched him watching you, slowly moving closer to you. You couldn’t even look at him—even the smallest glance his way threw you straight back to your dream. The way he looked underneath you, the way he commanded the whole room as he touched you and f—

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you. He was right in front of you, reminding you to quickly shut your legs. “Move?”

“W-what?”

“You’re sitting in front of my blender,” he chuckled.

“Oh, oh yeah. Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, so sorry,” you jumped off the counter, extremely aware of Jeongin looking at you.

“Why is she being weird?” He half whispered at Seungmin. But the kitchen was small, and there was only you four in it anyway, and everyone could hear his question. It reminded you so much of the dream.

“I need to, um, I. Phone,” is all you managed, before you practically ran out of the kitchen and back into the room.

You groaned at yourself, sinking down into the bed as you tried to push the images from the dream away. It was impossible, and if you weren’t careful you’d ruin your new underwear in a matter of minutes.

A few seconds later, as you were still running your hands down your face, Seungmin walked into the room.

He plopped your phone down next to you.

“Your phone was in the kitchen, dumbass.” He sat down next to you, waiting for you to calm down.

“Okay, listen,” you started, taking in a deep breath.

“Your sex dream was about Minho and what Innie said got you so flustered because it was like your dream,” he confirmed, nonchalantly.

You gasped.

“I know you like the back of my hand, bubs,” he said when you just looked at him in shock before he kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry, Minnie, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I don’t control it and I know it’s wrong and I promise I feel nothing for him it’s not like that at all I—“

“—it’s fine,” he emphasised, making sure to look right into your eyes as he spoke. “I’m not jealous or mad or anything. It was actually extremely funny how flustered you got.”

“Min!” You yelled, slapping at his arm.

“Was that what you were moaning in your dream?” He smirked at you.

“Oh my god!” You groaned, covering your face as you fell onto your back. Seungmin crawled up your body, placing a hand on either side of your middle as he laughed.

**

Luckily for you, you weren’t faced with Minho again after that. Unluckily, it was because he got a confirmed test and was sent away to quarantine until he got better. Because of that, everyone that was in contact with him was forced into a five day isolation period—including you.

It wasn’t the first time you were isolating with your boyfriend, or his roommates for that matter, and so you happily just got on with your days in the house together.

Without the resident cook, you and Felix were in charge of feeding the others and Jeongin was in charge of complaining he was hungry after every meal.

“Why don’t you say thank you and just shut up?” Seungmin snapped after the third time, claiming he was disrespecting your efforts and he couldn’t stand for that.

Between video games and trying to work from home and the cabin fever, you were all actually doing pretty well. The only thing you had to complain about was the lack of privacy meant you didn’t have any alone time with your boyfriend, and worse of all, you never actually got to relieve the tension you felt since the dream.

So when you finished your work for the day and walked back into the room to see Seungmin on his phone, completely relaxed, you took your opportunity and climbed onto the bed.

You perched yourself right next to him, getting comfortable on your stomach, and tapped his chin.

“Kiss me,” you demanded. Seungmin laughed at you, locking his phone and discarding it on the bed before he followed your command.

His soft lips collided with yours as he brought a hand to your cheek, pulling you in closer.

You deepened the kiss, sighing against him as he put more force into his action—his tongue delicately licking your lips. You opened your mouth, moaning softly into the kiss as you relaxed against his chest.

“Oh wow, what a sight,” you heard a voice say behind you.

You jumped up, looking behind you to find Seungmin’s laptop was perched at the edge of the bed—and on it was an ongoing FaceTime call.

You only saw your reflection for a moment before you jumped up and turned around, and then you understood what the voice meant. Your ass was completely in view, leaving almost nothing to the imagination considering you were wearing your tightest pair of leggings.

And then you noticed who was sitting on the other side of the call.

“Sorry, hyung,” Seungmin said, bringing a hand around your shoulder, “I have to admit I forgot you were there.”

“Can’t blame you,” Minho chuckled. “You two get on with it, I can go.”

But he didn’t move.

“Wait,” you said quickly, “you were on your phone when I came in.”

“Yeah?” Seungmin shrugged.

“You were on FaceTime with Minho without even talking to each other?”

“I’m lonely,” Minho defended, “and I was just getting something to drink. I would’ve said something but I just got back and boom. Your ass was in my face.”

You covered your face in your palms.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Don’t need to apologise for having a nice ass,” he said, simply.

You slowly lifted your head from your hands, looking at your boyfriend to gauge his reaction. Seungmin did not take lightly to people commenting on you or your body—but he was laughing.

“You do have a very nice ass,” he said with a glint in his eyes, before he brought his hand down to your ass and squeezed it.

“Minnie! He’s still here,” you pointed out quietly.

At that, Seungmin grabbed your ass tighter before he leaned into your ear and whispered, “you can end the call now if you want. Or we can make a little part of your dream come true.”

You gasped into the air, your thighs clenching before you even realised you did that.

“What did you say to her?” Minho laughed, clearly recognising that type of reaction.

“Give us a second, hyung,” Seungmin said quickly, noticing you haven’t given any indication this was still okay. He leaned forward towards his laptop, his finger reaching for one of the keys, but you quickly spoke up.

“Wait, wait. Don’t end the call!”

“I was just going to mute us, bubs,” he said, turning to you with his eyebrows high.

“Oh, okay,” you said sheepishly.

He muted the call, turning to you with a curious face. You noticed Minho was kind enough to look at his phone in the meantime, giving you two some semblance of privacy.

“So?” He prompted.

“Are you suggesting we just have sex in front of him?” You asked bluntly, because there was no reason to beat around the bush anymore.

“Not if you don’t want to,” he shrugged. “If it gets you going we can just make out until he gets tired and leaves. Or if it’s just a fantasy then we end the call.”

“What.. uh, what do you think he’ll say?”

“Ask him,” Seungmin suggested.

You slowly reached over to the laptop, clicking the button to unmute yourself.

“Minho,” you said, swallowing the very little moisture that was left in your throat.

“Yeah?”

“Can we keep going?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, his hand coming into view on his keyboard, “I’ll call Minnie tomorrow.”

“No, no,” you tried, causing Minho to raise his eyebrows, “what if you stayed. And watched.”

“Watched?” Minho gasped.

“You said you’re lonely and you’re probably bored,” you began, encouraged by Seungmin’s hand on your back, “if you want to we can entertain you.”

Minho’s eyes flicked over to Seungmin, studying his reaction. When he saw the small nod his friend gave him, he nodded back.

“I am extremely bored,” he said slowly.

You took one final look at your boyfriend, seeing the reassuring smile on his face before turning back to the screen.

“Anything you’d like to see?”

“Your ass,” he answered instantly. You laughed, nodding before you got back into your previous position, making a point of shaking your ass from side to side as you got comfortable.

Seungmin’s hand was in your hair in a matter of seconds, pulling you towards him as he kissed you hungrily. It was messy, sloppy, the kind of kiss he gave you when he was dying to do more.

But Seungmin wanted you to set the pace—do only what you wanted to when you had an audience.

This was new, and so fucking exciting, but he didn’t want to do anything that would unsettle you. So he just kissed you, tongue crashing against yours as he tugged on your hair.

You lifted off the bed slightly, just to get closer to Seungmin, in the process showing Minho your ass from the best angle.

“Minnie,” you moaned into the kiss, feeling the wetness pooling in your underwear. “He likes my ass.”

“Yeah, I think he made that clear,” he chuckled at you.

“Slap it,” you asked quietly.

“You sure?” Seungmin pulled away. You usually only asked him to do that when you were well and truly gone, only letting your desperation talk.

“Please,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I think he’ll like it.”

So your boyfriend complied. He brought his hand to your ass, squeezing it harshly before he slapped it.

It didn’t hurt too much, thanks to the layer between your skins—and the fact Seungmin didn’t use much force.

“That was pathetic, Seungmin,” Minho said. “You need to slap it like you mean it.”

Seungmin noticed the way you whimpered—and a huge smirk appeared on his face.

“Like this, hyung?” He asked, before landing his palm on you again, this time it was loud enough to bounce against the walls. It was hard enough to jolt your whole body forward.

“Ask her,” Minho ordered.

“Was that hard enough for you, baby?”

“Harder,” you whined. Seungmin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he did as you asked, landing another loud slap on your ass.

This time it stung, but not to the point of pain. You moaned.

“Yeah, I think she liked that one,” Minho chuckled.

You nodded quickly, looking up at Seungmin as you bit your lip.

“You’ll feel it more if I take this off,” he suggested gently, running a finger over the waistband of your leggings.

You didn’t even say anything, simply moved around until you managed to slip out of the soft material, whining at the way the air felt against your damp panties.

You could hear Minho sighing as your bare ass came into view.

“Why would you bother with underwear when it isn’t even covering anything?” He commented. Seungmin looked over your shoulder, observing Minho’s comment. Your thong really didn’t cover much.

He grabbed onto the pink string, pulling at it until it snapped back into place harshly.

You moaned again, arching your back before you quietly asked Seungmin to keep going.

He slapped your ass five more times, making you moan louder every time, before he grabbed your ass then rubbed his hand over the spot he hit.

He tapped your hip, urging you to move sideways on your knees—offering your ass up to him. He leaned down and kissed that same spot.

He then kissed down your ass, to the back of your thigh, and planted one small kiss on your core.

You almost forgot what was happening, what you were actually doing, before Seungmin grabbed your hips and moved you closer to the laptop.

He pushed your knees apart and chuckled.

“Look at that, hyung,” he said, almost proudly. “That wet patch is big.”

He ran a finger over your panties, from where the string sat snugly between your ass to your core, stopping at the entrance. He dipped his finger in as far as the fabric let him, causing you to buck your hips towards his hand.

“Aw, look,” Minho chuckled, “she’s needy.”

You moaned loudly at that, repeating the action with your hips.

“Minnie’s not being so nice to you, huh?” Minho asked, laughing lightly at how much you were pushing against Seungmin’s fingers.

“You think she knows it can’t go any deeper with her thong in the way?”

“She’s not very smart when she’s desperate,” Seungmin explained, “I don’t think she even knows it’s still on.”

The more they talked about you like you weren’t even there, the wetter you got. And Seungmin could feel it.

He knew you liked being talked down on, he knew you liked being called names, but he wasn’t too good at that. He tried, he always did, but the fear of getting carried away and hurting your feelings stopped him.

But now, with someone else chiming in and feeding your fantasies, he didn’t think he’d have to say much at all to hit the spots you craved.

He pushed his doubts to the side as he pulled you up to face him.

Minho slumped in his seat, upset to see your ass move away, but the next thing he saw was very much worth that slight disappointment.

Seungmin grabbed you by the throat, looking straight into your eyes as he said, “is my little girl all dumb for me?”

“Fuck,” was all you could say back.

“That didn’t sound like an answer,” Minho said.

Seungmin smirked as he saw your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

“Come on, baby. Minho wants you to answer,” Seungmin prompted, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Y-yeah,” you sighed.

“Yeah? Yeah, what?” Seungmin demanded, pressing his fingers into your throat for a moment.

“I get so dumb when I’m desperate for your cock, Minnie,” you groaned.

Seungmin smiled at you, leaning down to kiss you eagerly.

He ran his hands over your stomach, pinching your shirt in a silent question. But you didn’t respond, just pulled him closer to you by his neck as you kissed him harder.

Minho called your name, unsure if he was allowed to use any pet names with you, and got your attention.

“Can Seungmin take your shirt off?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded quickly, letting your boyfriend peel your shirt off and toss it to the side.

“See, Minnie, you need to use your words sometimes.”

“Hey,” you grinned at your boyfriend, “that’s what you always tell me to do.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Seungmin chuckled at you.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him when Minho coughed.

“You’re gonna just let her be a smartass?”

You both stopped.

Seungmin turned to the screen, letting one of his hands rub against your stomach.

“What do you mean, hyung?”

“If she talks back to you, you should put her in her place.” You swallowed. You looked between Seungmin and the screen, noticing both boys wore a huge smirk on their faces.

“Yeah, I probably should,” he mused, running his finger across your jawline. “She does misbehave a lot.”

“I do not!” You protested.

“Already proving your point, man,” Minho tsked.

“She’s so demanding too,” Seungmin shook his head, “like she really thinks she’s the one in charge.”

You blinked up at him.

“But as soon as I ask her what she wants she’ll just say ‘just give me what you want’ like the good girl she should be,” Seungmin said. He used a voice to mock you when he quoted your words, and it made your whole body shudder as you clenched hard around nothing at all.

Minho laughed. “I think she felt that.”

“Should I check how wet that made her?” He suggested, looking right at you.

You nodded quickly, excitement pooling in your stomach at the thought he was going to touch you.

“Shhh,” he said, sickingly sweet, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

You moaned at that, eyes squeezing shut as your body instantly reacted to those words, too. The want in your core had turned into an ache, so strong you were sure you would lose your mind soon.

You asked Seungmin for this exact thing so many times—and finally you were getting what you wanted.

“Careful what you wish for, huh, bubs?” Seungmin whispered at you, seemingly managing to read your mind again. You chuckled at him, pecking his lips softly before you let him bring his fingers to your core.

He pushed your panties to the side, dipping one finger into your entrance.

“Fuck,” he chuckled airily, pushing deeper in pure curiosity. “Baby, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet for me before.”

“Please,” you sighed, basking in the stretch his finger provided. But it wasn’t enough. “Please, more.”

“What do you think, Minho?” You clenched at that, moaning softly. Seungmin laughed.

“How much more can she take?”

You didn’t say anything, unsure of if it was your turn to speak.

Seungmin moved around, placing himself behind you as he turned your body to face the camera, the only thing blocking Minho’s view was Seungmin’s hand cupping your core.

“Answer him,” Seungmin said, warning.

“I can take more,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as Seungmin pressed his finger deeper into you with every slow thrust.

“He didn’t ask if, he asked how much. Are you stupid or you just can’t listen?” Seungmin froze. He never used that word before, only dumb, and suddenly his whole body was tingling with adrenaline. He messed up, he got carried away and hurt your feelings, and in front of someone else, too. you were gonna hate him and���

“Fuck, Minnie, if you say that again I’ll fucking cum,” you whined loudly, dropping your head on his shoulder.

Instinctively he added another finger, pace quick and deep. But he couldn’t say anything. He was too spooked, unsure of how exactly to word a sentence with that word in it.

He looked at the screen, admiring your body, the way you pushed your chest forward as you leaned on his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and jaw hanging open.

He caught Minho’s face on the screen, eyes wide and hand silently gesturing for him to say something.

Seungmin sent him back a panicked look, only focusing on moving faster to make you cum.

So Minho took over.

“Come on, Minnie. Make her stupid cunt cum.”

Seungmin felt your walls closing in around his fingers, pulsing as you moaned loudly into his ear. You whined as he kept up his pace, helping you ride out your high, the electric current swimming all through your body as one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever felt crashed into you. It didn’t stop, Seungmin relentless as he noticed your body wasn’t going limp like it usually did—another wave hitting you at full force.

When his hand started cramping he sucked on your exposed neck to distract himself which seemed to have backfired, as he felt your body reacting, another one shooting through your walls.

At one point or another you gasped out, pushing his wrist away from you.

“Okay, okay,” he kissed your cheek, stilling his hand inside you.

You panted heavily, your body covered in a layer of sweat as Seungmin lowered you both back onto the bed. He delicately pulled his hand away, grabbing a tissue and cleaning himself off as he gave you space to breathe.

He made sure to kiss your cheeks as you breathed, fighting the urge to wrap his hands around your middle because you didn’t like that when you were breathless. Finally, you spoke.

“Holy fucking shit.”

They both laughed.

“Does it always happen like that?” Minho asked, panting slightly himself.

“That has never happened before,” he laughed, kissing your temple. “You did so so well to take all that.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, “you did a really good job.”

You smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you for letting me watch,” he said, looking on as you signalled to your boyfriend that you were done.

“Thank you for helping. A lot,” you laughed.

You looked over at the screen and noticed a small white stain on the front of his shirt. “When did that happen?”

“Oh, some point during your ten minute orgasm,” he shrugged. You all laughed before you corrected him.

“Orgasms.”

“How many do you think that was?” Seungmin asked as he judged he could finally wrap his hands around you, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“Maybe five?” You scrunched your nose, butterflies creeping into your stomach as both of them whistled in awe.

“New record!” He exclaimed, offering his palm out to you. You weakly gave him a high five.

“How are you feeling, Min?” You asked after the silence settled, as did your breathing.

“I’m okay—“

“I feel better—“

They both answered. Seungmin chuckled as he asked, “which one of us?”

“I meant Minho,” you giggled, “since he’s the one who’s sick.”

“I feel better actually, gonna do another test tomorrow to see if they’ll let me out of this prison,” he chuckled, taking a few sips from his water bottle.

“Yes, please come back soon. I’ve had enough of cooking for these guys,” you rolled your eyes.

Minho laughed at that, promising he’ll free you of your duties soon enough.

“You?” You turned your head lightly, cupping your boyfriend’s chin as you soothed your thumb over his skin.

“I’m glad you had so much fun. My hand hurts though,” he pouted. You brought his hand up towards your lips, kissing his wrist a few times before he nodded.

“And you, bubs?”

“Oh, I feel fucking incredible,” they laughed, “I kept telling you to be mean and you didn’t listen.”

“Well, now I know you were not kidding,” Seungmin exclaimed dramatically.

“I’m gonna go shower guys,” Minho said, running a hand through his hair, “make sure you drink a lot before you sleep, okay?”

The three of you bid each other good night, and once it was just the two of you again, Seungmin made sure to feed you and hydrate you and clean you before you cuddled until you fell asleep.

A few weeks down the line, the three of you were sat around the living room watching a movie Jisung recommended. During one of the montages, Seungmin spoke up.

“You know what I realised?” You both hummed. “During the six orgasms that happened that night, none of them were mine.”

The three of you laughed, Minho raising his eyebrows at you with a lopsided smile.

[lustkillers]

okok hear me out: rough sex in a loud party where any character you want is pounding into reader, forcing them to be quiet until he cums all over her and forces her back into the party, putting her on display for everyone. just a thought, love you're writing !!

LOOSEN UP THEIR FROWN, MAKE 'EM FEEL ALIVE!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - you're only his.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit here! hard dom!euro, sub!reader unprotected sex, rough sex, impact play, public sex/exhibitionism?? , voyeurism?, slight asphyxiation, degradation, spit, jealous!euro, toxic (?) couple tbh, FACIALLLL!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - IM BACKKK from my dreadful writers block!! i'm also bombarded with school work, i'm so sorry for being inactive on terms of writing!! thank u for the request & hopefully i did this request justice... i'm literally sick as shit and seeing stars!! as always, not proofread! requests are open!!

HOW did you end up here? Standing in the middle of a house party, your face covered in his cum. Others knew, some didn't. But you knew... You knew it all too well.

Øystein had been pissing you off recently, so you decided to take a night out on the town with your friends to blow off some steam. Plus, you knew Øystein would be busy and wouldn't bother you tonight, as he had other plans.

He'd always be deep into his music, making him insufferable sometimes. You wanted a night without his judgment, so you went to the house party, not telling him that you were leaving. 'It's not like he cares...' You thought.

The party was raging with people inside, strobe lights scattered along the house and the intense thumping of bass. You felt your body come alive with every beat, and soon you were dancing among everyone else.

Your friends had left you to talk to other guys, get drinks, and possibly fuck. That alone made you want to leave, but something about this party didn't allow you to. Everything around you was a blur, and other men had hands on your waist... But they weren't him.

Suddenly, you felt a new pair of hands around your waist. You looked back and saw Øystein standing there, his eyes smoldering with desire… But also anger and passion. He looked at you with an intensity that made your body tremble.

Your stomach bubbled with many emotions, and your head was like a wheel; spinning with what you should say to him at this moment.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from parties like this, but now here you are!” Øystein said incredulously.

You wanted to say something along the lines of how it wasn't his decision to make, but you couldn't take your eyes off him; he was still holding you close. Something in your head felt unscrewed, not responding well to his response. You should've been defending yourself... Not standing there with your eyes searching his.

“I-I…” You stuttered, unable to put together any sort of coherent response.

He only grabbed you, leading you away from the suffocating crowd you didn't even know was bothering you until this point. He kept a tight grip on you as he dragged you upstairs.

As soon as you reached the top, there was a hallway with 3 doors; 2 adjacent to each other, and one parallel to the 2 doors. He opened the door parallel to the 2, loud moans ringing through both of your ears, the sight of your friend riding some random guy she just met.

A yelp emits from your mouth, your hand instantly closing the door. A deep sigh leaves Øystein's mouth, a chuckle soon to follow.

"This is why I told you to stay away from parties like this," he said shaking his head as he released you from his ironclad grip. You were about to speak up again, but the words caught in your throat when he grabbed your face and inched closer, a smirk slowly making its way across his face.

The couple hastily moved away from each other, a stern look suddenly present in Øystein's face. He motioned you to come inside the room while they quickly ran out of it, leaving you two alone.

The atmosphere was tense as Øystein pointed his finger at you, the silence filling the room. He finally opened his mouth to speak. "You were about to do something stupid," He said accusingly, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

You gulped, suddenly intimidated by him. "I-I was just curious," you stuttered. You instantly regretted your words.

He clenched his jaw, looking at you with disdain before letting out a deep breath and relaxing his stance a bit.

"Curiosity is not always your friend," he tilted his head, his gaze still boring into yours as he grabbed your hands in his own. "I think… You’re just acting like a slut to get my attention."

You felt your heart racing as you stared back at him, unable to find words. Øystein smiled devilishly before swooping in for a kiss without warning, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall. He then kissed every inch of your body until his lips were back on yours. You could feel electricity coursing through both of your bodies and it felt amazing. You knew then that you were in way too deep.

His grip on you was tight, almost bruising your waist. As you both kissed, his body collided with yours, and soon you found yourself laid on the bed with him on top of you.

Your pussy pooled with wetness, his veiny, pale hands traveling to your core. He started to move his fingers inside you, pushing and pulling in a deep rhythm. His subtle and gentle movements were filling your body up with pleasure like nothing else before. With each thrust of his hand, you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

Before you even came, his hands retracted from your core and his lips trailed down your neck. He worked his way to your nipples, pulling up your top, and teasing them with his tongue as he moved further down past the small of your back, kissing each inch of skin as if it were precious.

However the passion ended there. Øystein suddenly flipped you over on all fours, his hand colliding with your ass; a stinging sensation traveling through you.

A moan escaped your lips, as you felt empty without him inside. In order to fill that void, your fingers found its way to your clit, rubbing it as strained whimpers escaped your mouth.

He smacked your hand away, placing his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit." He demanded.

A pool of your saliva bubbled on his hand, as he retracted it and rubbed it on his aching cock.

And before you knew it, he was spearing into you. His thrusts hurried and intense, as if it were his last time, each increasing in pressure until he was shaking with the feeling of pure pleasure.

"S-Slow down, Øystein... Fuck!" You cried out, sobs bubbling out of your mouth, and as soon as you know it, tears spilled out from pleasure.

Your moans rung in his ears as he noticed the music downstairs died down a bit, but he didn't care. He was too focused on the blissful pleasure that your body gave him, as your muscles clenched onto his cock with each thrust, sending spasms of ecstasy through his body.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, roughly stuffing your face into the pillows, suppressing your moans.

"Be fucking quiet, whore." He seethed, as his thrusts quickened and the air filled with your muffled moans.

It was hard to breathe with your face in the pillows, and the fact that he kept smacking your ass didn't help much. You felt your insides warming up as he hit just the right spot, and it wasn't long before a wave of heat spread over your body.

Just before you knew it, you came on his hard cock, moaning into the pillow as your wet pussy clenched tightly onto his cock. Your fluids seeped down your thighs, as your body shook in recovering pleasure.

Øystein was about to fall apart, his thrusts going erratic. His hands grabbed your shoulders and he started pounding into you wildly. It wasn't long before he let out a deep guttural grunt, "Let me paint that pretty face of yours." He pulled your head out the pillows, whispering in your ear.

The searing pain of the grip on his hair flowed through you, but you were still at a high.

He made you drop to your knees, pumping his cock right in front of your face. You opened your mouth, closing your eyes and letting Øystein shoot his cum over your tongue and face.

It was then that you felt the last contractions of his orgasm, and Øystein finally released his grip from your hair. You stayed on your knees for a moment, taking in everything that just happened.

As you looked up to him with glazed eyes, his smile devilishly looking down upon you. "Let's go," His voice raspy.

You stood up, nodding, and your knees slightly went weak. "Let me just wipe my face–"

"No." Øystein's voice was stern. "Leave it." He said with a smirk.

As you both descended down the stairs, the party still going on as a few eyes stared at you. Silence was shared between them, while others raised an eyebrow.

Shit, some of them even had a hard-on.

Øystein didn't care though,

he wanted everyone to know you were his.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Genshin Sagau (?) Isekai Brainrot - Language

I've seen like ONE small kinda related Genshin Sagau/isekai idea for this but I wanted more of it so BAD

It’s not the most interesting thing in the world, it’s about our modern vernacular vs. Teyvat's flowery speech

Pls feel free to expand on or add to this pLEASE TAG ME IF U DO IM STARVING OUT HERE :)))

So I saw someone write like one sentence abt this (can’t remember who :( sorry I’ll update if I find them ) or like a brutally honest version??

But I also took inspo from how fucking wordy and long conversations that are in Genshin, even with ppl like Xiao (the rude boy that he is) or even Tighnari who gets to the point pretty quickly

It goes smth like:

So, all of Teyvet, (esp ppl like Zhongli 💀 u know the ones) talk,, flowery.

Like, the whole Pride and Prejudice style speaking, euphemisms, metaphors, for some characters (or Npcs) its full on POETRY. 

Lookin’ at you Kazuha.

.

And going off of any variation of you being the Creator, (or otherwise an older mythical being?), they could have this thing where the older a deity/mythical thingy is, the simpler the speech. 

Kinda makes sense to them y’know? The older beings are serious, commanding, intimidating

And nothing says "I'm ancient as fuck and powerful as fuck" like simple blunt speech.

And being closer to the literal creation of the world, language would understandably be less complex (I’m assuming it’s the same as in human cultures in our world's history)

Like literally look at our fantasy typical stories, plenty of them have a dragon or ancient god that speaks in extremes, like so flowery its a metaphor, or so bluntly its startling (ie, "Be not afraid." "I am all powerful." etc etc)

And so, ancient powerful being = direct/blunt speech

..

…

...Y'know,, almost like our modern vernacular.

Like, part of some of our modern day comedy is purely based on a sentence being delivered bluntly for impact

Hell our ads and videos and content in general we always want to get to the point, to say things simply

So with this in mind, even if you try to deny being the Creator, they might still think you are, or at least a more minor ancient deity/creature

 .

(like the Seven Sovereigns/Phanes/Shades/etc. for example would sound eerily modern or at least easy for you to understand bc of this trait lol)

(Also I'm just assuming u know Genshin lore enough to know what I meant by that ^)

____

So, I love the AU where you just,, hitch a ride with the traveler like Paimon bc u start at the "beginning of the game",

And with every person you meet, you're like, "Ok, no, I promise this is just how my country/world speaks, it's not like that, I'm not some ancient deity…" 

And They're all like 🤨🤨🤨 "Well, fine traveler and companions, why does your speech sound so simplistic and sharp? Surely, you do not expect me to truly believe you.."

You: "Please I just talk like this, I'm a regular human."

Them: "Alright, if it is as you say,, you wish to not experience being "known" yes? Fear not, I will keep your secrets close to my chest."

You: "No, for the last time, that's not-" 

.

And it just keeps happening, lol

.

(srry I tried my best at emulate Genshin language + flowery speech idk how to do it)

.

Like maybe you would just sound weird or like a foreigner speaking y’know in simpler sentences bc they don't know the language as well as native speakers, at least that could be how you sound to NPCs and ppl who don’t know abt simpler speech meaning

.

...But the Adepti? Zhongli?? Barbatos maybe??? Even the Aranara??? Those who are old enough to maybe have heard how older beings speak or at least have knowledge of how they should speak/sound??

You couldn’t have predicted how shocked their faces were the second you opened you’re mouth… 

Sumeru scholars would freak tf out i stg, as soon as you meet Haypasia, she's already losing it, first the Irminsul progress, now this ancient being/Creator?? Girlie thinks its a sign lmao

.

(I’m an Aether lover, and also bc I think Lumine looks badass as Abyss ruler, so I’m gonna go with Aether for traveler sorry Lumine mains love yall T-T)

.

You, and Aether being equally confused at first pLEASE 😭 

lets say he speaks a little more fluffy than you at least, after all I’m assuming bc of the outfit that he’s from a fantasy-like place, and his replies can be a little fluffy like Teyvat’s residents, so he kinda fits in, kinda like everybody assumes he's just from another country when he gets to a new nation (at least that’s what I think happens??)

.

Like after (maybe Diluc?) Lisa, Kaeya, Venti, and Jean (who I think would all be knowledgeable, thru diff means, about this enough to maybe recognize the simpler speech = ancient god thing)

ALL reacted shocked as hell at hearing you talk, and would probably explain (or Paimon before then?) in that infuriatingly roundabout way, that you would usually skip a couple dialogue boxes just to avoid bc yOU ALREADY GOT THE POINT or alternatively WHATS THE POINT HERE?? JUST SAY IT, WHATS THE COMMISSION/QUEST FOR/WHAT DO I DO??

(Those blue highlights be savin my impatient life, and i actually like lore stuff 💀)

.

Oh that’s also another frustration. For you.

.

It would drive me crazy if I had to wait like,, 2-3 minutes for ppl to explain what they ate for dinner or sm shit

Like, now imagine that’s everyone, about everything.

You don’t know how anything gets done in battles or wars, like you need faster communication for that right??💀

.

Anyway, you, Aether and Paimon decide you just gotta not talk when you first meet people or like,, make sure you're gonna be around that person for a while so you don’t have to possibly get someone over the shock of your speech every time you guys talk to people 😭 that'd be so miserable I can already tell,,

Like at first, every convo ya’ll have had with people who recognize that direct speech trait as a thing, would take at least 10 minutes to finish talking about it/being shocked,,

It got so old so fast.

.

(Like I already can’t communicate that good with ppl irl bc I misunderstand them, or they do me, or they just dont get what I mean, and as my friends put it, which I think would fit here for any language shenanigans we go thru in Teyvat, "A Shakespearean level of misunderstanding, hilarious but such a downward spiral to watch, it just gets more and more ridiculous as it goes on...")

.

On another note, making fun of someone would be so fucking funny,

I’d like to give myself the benefit of the doubt that many characters, after getting used to your speech, would generally understand you (even if they always notice it, like an accent) and would actually rlly love hearing insults or even just generally how you would put things

(like maybe treating this almost like those vids of ppl with non-native english speaknig relatives/parents and its the most hilarious thing to watch them, usually get pissed 😭, at their kid, if u dont know what I mean look up on tiktok or smth)

And You just come off like those insults where you dont even use cuss words, you just like, drag queen read them into never showing their face again, and you did it in so few words!! 

They're amazed and oh, 

you've become the John Mulaney of Teyvat 

(Bad examples include:

Fontaine inventor: "...And I shall call my invention, crocks!"

You: "I wouldn't even be cremated in those." ) 

*Aether crying laughing in the background bc he never knows what you’re gonna say next, and Paimon's jaw dropped so hard

JFC this post is so long sorry, I probably will spam with a Part 2 but let me know if you’re interested in hearing more anyway!!

Thanks for reading this rambling!!

Or send in asks abt this 👀

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

[dorims]

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away. 

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always. 

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though. 

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic. 

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children. 

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.” 

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.” 

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry. 

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long. 

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all. 

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.” 

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.” 

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules 

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 5)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: after your wild night with toji, you're forced to return back to reality. and by reality, you mean geto and gojo's house party. you're so tired, but nothing a few shots won't fix :) wait, hold on, who's that girl gojo is all over? wait, are you...jealous? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! implications of sex, moderate to heavy drinking, partying, jealousy, sexting, over the shirt action, kissing, y/n and other characters get high/drunk/crossed and horny lol ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: HAPPY VDAY BABES xx 💜🖤💜🖤 sorry it's been a while since i updated this series (i got my period and then had lots of werk to do but im BACK). hope u guys enjoy some gojo and reader sexual tension >:) also to the anon who sent the passive aggressive msg about me not updating after hours...hope ur happy now 😒 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

“morning, riko!” you greet the raven haired barista sleepily, “iced cappuccino with soy milk, please.”

“what…are you sure?” riko says, her face surprised. you always order your signature iced matcha latte with oat milk, unsweetened of course. riko knows it, every one knows it. 

“yeahhh, i know. i just had a late night and then an early morning…” you groan. you won’t lie — you feel like you just got hit by a thousand trucks and your eyes are stinging (and probably red from the lack of sleep). “i’m bad at time management,” you confess sheepishly.

riko giggles. “not as bad as your friend trying to order a latte and pretending he likes it”. you sneak a glance at geto, who’s taking a sip of his americano and grimacing at the taste, which makes you smile at his lovesick gesture. “does he know we have other beverages?”

“ehh, i think he does but…he’s just trying to impress a very pretty girl who works here,” you say, trying your best to be obvious…but not too obvious that geto would be upset.

“oh my god, y/n! you know kuroi is happily engaged!” riko jokes, laughing lightly. 

“oh darn, i have to break the bad news to suguru…he’s gonna be sooo upset,” you say sadly, pretending to wipe away a false tear dramatically, as riko rings you up for your order. just then, you think of something awful that suguru would definitely kill you for, but you’re already pretty bold for wearing the same outfit from last night that you got fucked in and showing up 30 minutes late to meet your friends, so fuck it. 

“speaking of which, riko…are you doing anything tonight?”

“besides closing up…nope.” she answers. 

“well, a bunch of us are going to the new barcade that opened up downtown this evening. i’m thinking around 9, think you can make it? you can tell suguru himself to lay off kuroi,” you joke jovially. 

riko laughs heartily. “i’ll see you guys there”, she says, handing you your receipt, as you wave goodbye and head to your friends in the corner table. you try not to act flummoxed as you approach your friends, suddenly acutely aware of the how your hair was all over the place (why doesn’t toji own a hairbrush?) and that your jumpsuit was clearly wrinkled and that you hadn’t been able to take a shower yet. god, this was not your sexiest look. 

“do they usually allow walk of shames in this cafe? i thought it this was a safe space?” satoru grins, already thinking of 30 ways to roast you for showing your face here after being 30 minutes late. he’s trying to push away any thoughts of you getting fucked by toji out of his head. 

“shut up! i…i didn’t bring any extra clothes and i woke up late, okay!” you say, defending yourself earnestly. 

“leave her alone, satoru,” suguru chastises, as he scoots down a chair to make room for you. “anyway, why were you talking to riko for such a long time? did she…say anything? it’s my haircut isn’t it? i just wanted to trim the bangs a little bit but they went sooo overboard and now-“

“oh my god suguru, chill!” shoko says, rolling her eyes. “he hasn’t been able to shut the fuck about riko and it’s so annoying that me and satoru are thinking of just asking her out on his behalf, at this point.” suguru tries hard to hide a blush before trying to deflect, but you interrupt them both. 

“no need,” you say, turning to face suguru, “you can ask her yourself what we talked about…tonight. at the barcade.” you smile wide with your teeth and give suguru pleading eyes, hoping he won’t get upset with you for taking the liberty to speed run his first date with riko. 

his face immediately is unreadable, and satoru elbows his ribs hard and hits his back. “congrats, pal! you finally have something to look forward to tonight that isn’t on your nintendo switch.”

“yeah. i mean…i d-don’t care. at all. i mean…good for her for coming. i don’t know if i’ll even be there but if i see her then i see her. no big deal…” suguru says, mostly to himself. 

everyone at the table laughs, and you find your initial weariness of your extended walk of shame slowly melt away. you take a sip of your cappuccino, as utahime complains about how tired she is from playing animal crossing with shoko all night. you feel soft thinking about how utahime probably stayed up later than her usual early bedtime for shoko, knowing full well she has to wake up at 7am the next morning for both getting coffee and teaching her 1st period homeroom at the local high school. shoko has been recently trying to fix her sleep schedule from her night float rotation all junior residents had to do at the hospital their third year. 

“also, before i forget, pre-game at ours at 7. we’re inviting nanami and haibara and some other people,” satoru says absentmindedly, his eyes focused on responding to a text on his phone before turning and facing you. “you’re still good on giving me a ride to lab today, right y/n?” 

oh shit. “oh, umm, yeah, definitely still good with that.” you say quickly. you don’t exactly remember when you offered to give satoru a ride, but you assume it was one of the many times you tuned him out when he spoke. who’s satoru texting? the intrusive thought came out of nowhere, but you push the newfound irritation back where it came from. 

satoru and you walk back to your car while you both lament about how awful this week’s lab has been. “i mean, why even give us a lab when we have a final in like less than a week?” you say exasperatedly, as you search for the keys to your cream white mini cooper and unlock it. 

“speak for yourself, i finished that lab last week.” satoru boasts, grinning at your when you give him a confused look. “i’m only going to help the cute girls in class with their work.” he shrugs. what a slag. 

“you’re a whore,” you scoff, slightly annoyed at satoru. so he has time to help some random cute girl in class but not his best friend. you buckle in, and take pleasure in watching satoru struggle to situate his legs inside your tiny cramped car. his knees are bent at awkward angles, and his head practically touches the roof of the car. 

satoru groans loudly and dramatically. “you have the smallest fucking car in the world, y/n, y'know that?” 

“fits me perfectly,” you say nonchalantly, as you back up and drive out to campus. 

“well it baaareeelyyyy fits me,” he pouts, the sun visor bumping his head while he pulls it down. 

“it’s not even that tight,” you assure him.. 

“it’s very tight, y/n. i can feel the walls squeezing me.”

“get over it.” 

“oh, so it’s okay if toji says that to you but when i say it, it’s a fuckin’ problem?” 

you practically choke on your saliva and swerve into the other lane upon hearing satoru’s comment. “h-how did you know…he said that to me?” you say incredulously. there’s no way he like…hacked your phone or something right? maybe you accidentally butt dialed shoko last night and they all heard you moan god knows what. the storm of thoughts in your head is interrupted by satoru’s laughter. 

“i didn’t know he said that but now i do.” oh, god. you fell for it like a fucking idiot, y/n. you try to retort something back but you’re left speechless. actually you’re a bit impressed — satoru got that out of you masterfully, and you have to appreciate the tact (or perhaps lack thereof) he had. you try to be angry towards him, but it’s futile as you both start laughing. 

“i hate you — stop making me laugh it’s not funny i need to focus on the road, idiot,” you say in between giggles. your eyes stay fixed on the road as you playfully flick satoru’s head (he lets you — your laughter makes his heart beat faster and he ignores it). satoru grabs your hand with his and starts rubbing your fingers together in an effort to warm them up. 

“you’re hands are so cold all the time…” he murmurs. to him, it feels so natural to play with your hands, and you let him (his touch brings an undetectable heat to your face…and other parts of your body). you look steal quick glance over at him, and are overcome with a sudden and foreign shyness that instinctually forces you to retract your hand back to the wheel almost immediately. you clear your throat, before announcing to satoru that he was here. 

satoru’s knees and joints crack as they are finally released from the prison of your mini cooper, and he dramatically lets out a sigh of relief. he gets out of the car and makes a show of stretching his long legs and arms. his collegiate basketball crewneck slides up, and you catch a glimpse of his toned abs and happy trail. you hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch before snapping out of the trance and rolling your eyes. “have fun harassing the cute girls in your class!” you say sarcastically, as he flips you off before heading to class. 

during your drive back home, you don’t want to process the familiar feeling you felt last night when satoru texted you before you had sex with toji. the thoughts you had of him choking you and kissing your while toji played with your titties. oh god, you’re thinking about it again! stop it!

your neck aches from staring at your laptop screen for the last two hours as you try to make going out tonight worth it by studying extra for your final exam next week. your neck cracks loudly in all the right places and you head straight for a quick hot shower. you practically moan when the hot water hits your scalp, and allow the water to wash away all the stickiness of your complicated relationship with toji and satoru. tonight’s just for having fun and not doting on the future, you tell yourself, but not before taking a look at your soapy chest and thinking this is just the perfect picture for toji to see. you quickly snap a pic, promising yourself you won’t be one of those desperate girls toji always brings over to his house. 

y/n: [1 Photo] hi :)

okay, you know you had just sent the photo to toji, but it did kind of break your heart that he didn’t immediately respond. okay, sure he’s a single dad so he might be busy…or he’s fucking some other girl. your heart drops slightly at the thought of him blowing some other unsuspecting girl’s back out, and the sadness quickly turns to annoyance. you’re better than this, y/n. who cares anyway — no one sucks dick like you do. you smirk. you definitely aren’t the type of girl who would hook up with anyone, but you know how to not sell your skills short. if toji was busy with his own life, well, so were you. 

you hop out of the shower, checking your phone once again to see if toji had responded, only to be met with a text from satoru in the group chat:

satoru: [1 Photo] got the goods 😛

you open the photo to see him with a couple packs of white claws, and suguru in the background looking intently at two wine bottles in his hands. no way is satoru’s lightweight ass is gonna make through even one can before getting sloshed, you think to yourself. 

shoko: what’s sugu doing?

satoru: deciding on what wine to get for riko lmfao 

you can’t help but smile at how cute suguru was, being so nervous for something that wasn’t even a formal first date. 

y/n: awww 🥹 get the rosé bby 

shoko: y/n if ur ass isn’t ready in 10 mins i s2g i’m gonna leave without u

you scrunch your nose and throw your phone on the bed — if you really hurry you could easily be out your door in fifteen. after thinking for five minutes, you decide on a classic little black skirt with a slit on the side paired with a lace cropped bralette (that honestly really did wonders to your boobs). you wore an oversized leather button down shirt, sheer black tights, and a pair of black gogo boots. you quickly fixed up your hair, figuring that “wet” look was already trendy anyway. after applying your makeup at the speed of light (you went for a subtle yet sultry neutral look), you grab your little purse and sprint out your room, and see that shoko was staying true to her word, as she was just about to head out the door. she sees you, stops, and grins. 

“you barely made it,” she teases, as she holds the door open for you. 

“you bitch.” you respond, rolling your eyes. “is utahime meeting us there?”

“yes she’s already there,” shoko says, not looking up from her phone as she calls an uber. so that’s why she’s been dying to get out of the house so impatiently. 

as both of you get into the uber, shoko pulls out two gummies from her purse and offers one to you. “pregame the pregame?” she says, and you both start giggling as you pop the gummy in your mouth. it’s probably not going to hit for a while, which leaves you plenty of time to get there and say your greetings to nanami and haibara before you get extremely crossed. you check your phone one last time, only to be met with no texts from toji. 

“thanks for the ride!”, shoko yells out as the uber driver speeds away. 

“umm, i’ve never been to oovoo javer…”, you say through giggles uncontrollably. oh, fuck. this must’ve been one of those fast acting gummies. shoko must have been feeling the effects too because she starts laughing noiselessly and you both are doubling over outside of satoru and suguru’s apartment, grabbing each other for support so you both don’t fall from how much you both are laughing.

the door of the boys’ apartment flies open and it’s some couple open mouth kissing each other, stumbling their way out of the confines of the living room rager that lied ahead for both of you. you and shoko both bit back another giggling fit before stepping in. suddenly, two arms engulfed both of you in a strong yet familiar bear hug. 

“himeee~” you hear shoko greet cheerfully. 

utahime hiccups, already a bit tipsy. she pouts jokingly before shoko kisses her cheek and you squeeze her torso back in another bear hug. “you bitches are awful for leaving me with dumb and dumber…” she says, punctuating her words with hiccups. 

“i’m sorry, 'hime. let’s grab a drink. i also packed you a joint,” shoko apologizes before utahime drags the both of you to the kitchen for a drink. in the kitchen, you find nanami slouching against the fridge, looking annoyed as ever, and haibara animatedly talking to some lower class men. haibara locks eyes with you and immediately turns and embraces you in a warm hug, while nanami manages a shoddy wave. 

"ahhh my favorite little babiessss~" you squeal, pulling both guys closers to you and giving them a strong hug. you always get very touchy and sentimental when under the influence. "i haven't seen you guys in sooooo long!"

"please let go, y/n." nanami says calmly, but not before briefly squeezing you back for what felt like half a second. wait a minute -- what the hell is nanami doing here? he never comes to these things.

"wait why are you he-"

"save it," nanami interrupts, running his fingers through his hair. "i'm only here because i wanted a referral to the lab gojo works at, and he said yes but that i needed to come over this evening so he could ask me some questions regarding the referral application."

"oh, yeah! what questions did he want to ask you?" haibara asks quizzically.

nanami takes an even deeper sigh. "i showed up and he asked if i wanted to take a shot and when i sad 'no just ask me what you need for the referral', he was like 'that's the question, do you want a shot?' and that's how i got fucking tricked into coming to this godforsaken rager." nanami seems truly miserable having fallen for satoru's scheme so easily. "anyway...given the circumstances, i did take a shot..." he groans, slowly sliding down the fridge onto the kitchen floor.

you and haibara laugh, and utahime hands you a white claw. you open the chilled can, and take a sip, your hazy state of mind helping you not feel the slight burning in the back of your throat.

"speaking of that idiot, where is he?" you ask, your eyes scanning the room for his bright white hair. you frown not seeing him anywhere, but your face quickly relaxes when you see suguru and riko heading to you and your friends. oh nice, suguru finally managed to ask riko to come to the pregame, too.

"hey riko!" shoko greets, "didn't expect to see you here..." she teases.

riko giggles and take a sip of her wine. "i couldn't say no to seeing my favorite customers!" she steals a quick glance up at suguru and you swear you see him blush. "also, this wine suguru picked out is amazing! how did you know i love rosé?"

you bite back a smile, making quick eye contact with suguru. "oh...lucky guess..." he shrugs, playing it off nonchalantly.

"oh by the way, i got a joint for us to share," shoko says, pulling it out of her bag. "anyone interested in puff puff passing?" she asks, already holding utahime's hand and heading to the balcony. suguru and riko follow suit, and you quickly bid nanami and haibara farewell.

as you turn around, you bump into the man you've been looking for, wearing the same basketball collegiate crewneck, white hair disheveled, and a drunken flush to his face.

you don't even get to say hello to satoru as he lifts you up in a giant hug that encompasses you and spins you around, making you squeal. you can't help but wrap your legs around him, knowing full well you probably shouldn't since your skirt was not long enough for it, but you needed to feel the warmth and comfort of his body around yours. you always got a bit too touchy feely when you were under the influence...

"eeep satoru~ put me down!"

"nope, missed ya", he mumbes into your hair. oh, he's definitely drunk right now. sober satoru would never openly admit something like that and it makes you giggle.

"please~ my skirt is too short for this ahh~" you plead, unwrapping your legs from his torso, all of sudden feeling embarrassed through the warm haze engulfing your body. satoru finally puts you down and shamelessly eyes you up and down while taking large sips of his beer.

"that skirt can definitely be shorter," he says cheekily, his blue eyes filled with drunken mischief. you roll your eyes dramatically and also take a sip of your claw.

"you're drunk, satoru..."

"and you need to get drunker!" he yells, already grabbing you a shot glass and pouring some of rankest shit you've ever smelled. the music starts pounding louder, and you need to raise your voice even higher to make sure he hears you.

"aren't you gonna take one with me?" you shout.

"y'know i'm a fuckin' lightweight, baby~" he frowns, handing you the shot, a little bit spilling with his sloppy actions.

you scrunch your nose at the strong stench. "i'm a bit stoned though so only one, okay?" you say to him. you close your eyes, hold your breath, and down it. your eyes water and you have to prevent yourself from dry heaving as you immediately grab the nearest can of cola on the table and chug it as a chaser.

"wooow, you're such a baby," satoru jeers, thinking about how you've always needed a non-alcoholic drink to wash down your alcohol. you're not a heavy drinker by any means -- not even a moderate drinker. as as a social drinker, you always feel the need to try to at least sort of keep up with your friends when they drink the rankest and cheapest liquor. thank god satoru has always been a lightweight.

"shut up~" you say, rolling your eyes. you grab satoru's arm and pull him closer to the balcony where all your friends are. he slides his arm down so that you're holding his hands. your heart beats faster, knowing full well your vices always made you...hornier than usual. you're trying really hard to not look back at satoru, but you steal a glance anyway. his flush face and tired eyes are all of a sudden looking really attractive to you. your eyes slide down and look at his hands, the shape of his long calloused fingers gripping your hand and you can't help but imagine how they would feel pumping inside you. oh god, was he always this attractive? ugh! why can't toji just message you back so you can just go over to his place instead of having to lust over your best friend?!

you both enter the balcony, and the cool yet humid evening air hits your face, allowing you to finally breath something that wasn't beer and sweat. that is, until the stench of weed hits your nose.

"ugh, this shit's gross! i dunno how you guys can fuckin' stand the smell," satoru complains, dramatically making a gagging face.

"and you call me a baby?!" you snort, still trying to not be obnoxiously flirtatious throughout the night to satoru. you cannot let the horniness win tonight. god, what's gotten in you? you're never this...desperate? it's satoru's fault because he's looking so good tonight, you tell yourself. you pass on the joint, and try to focus on the conversation at hand, but it's hard when satoru puts his arms around you and pulls your closer to his chest.

almost instinctively, you melt into his chest, allowing yourself to feel his warmth and focus on his breathing chest. you smell the beer from his mouth as he laughs at something suguru said and you giggle too so people can know you're sort of paying attention.

you're a perfect mix of drunk and high, and you're feeling blissful being out on this balcony with your best friends, albeit minus the thoughts of how good satoru was looking tonight. is it even that wrong to think that your friend looks hot? you're not being delusional right?

"suguru is definitely being a comedian tonight for riko, isn't he?" you tiptoe up to satoru and whipser into his ear, thinking you're being subtle. unfortunately for you (and suguru), the loud music isn't being carried out to the balcony, and everyone hears you, and starts laughing. oh shit. you immediately pan over to suguru and see him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"oh my god, suguru i- riko, i'm obviously joking!" you say really fast, slurring through your words as the shot finally is taking effect into your body. "obviously, suguru is the funniest person i know!"

"second funniest but i'm letting suguru tell all the jokes tonight. he needs this more than i do." satoru smiles brightly, looking at his best mate and making a kissy face at him.

"okay, riko, we are actually. um. we are leaving. and going to my room or the living room or literally anywhere else but here," suguru says, abruptly standing and helping riko up.

"wait what no, i wanna hear more about this-" she starts to tease, but ends up laughing.

"you're taking her to your room?!" shoko teases, raising her eyebrows comically. utahime chokes on the joint and starts laughing coughing and you do too, before you immediately stop. you cannot get on suguru's nerves tonight, as you know that'll make him too in his head to actually focus on having a fun time with riko.

you lift your body weight off of satoru and make way for suguru to leave. satoru side steps in front of suguru and pulls him into a hug, to which he scowls and tries to break free of. "mate, we LOVE you. i love you. and y/n loves you. and i'm going to absolutely obliterate you at street fighter at the barcade tonight." satoru slurs through his words and you almost feel bad for riko for having to deal with you and your friends.

you give a sympathetic look to riko as she trails behind suguru, patting his back softly and giggling. you're about to whisper a quick sorry to her, but she takes you by surprise by whispering "i hope i get obliterated by him tonight."

your jaw drops and you could almost cry laughing at what riko just said. i mean, okay, yeah it makes sense, and good for her but oh my god? i didn't know she had that in her?, you think to yourself.

"queen, i hope it happens. i'm for real manifesting this for you," you whisper back quickly and she sips her wine and giggles and follows suguru out of the balcony.

you turn around incredulously to shoko and utahime and look up satoru, all of them completely in shock at what they heard. there's a moment of silence to process before the intrusive thoughts win in your head. "honestly, i hope i get obliterated tonight, too."

shoko groans. "shut the fuck. up! you literally got obliterated last night! can you be normal about physical touch for just one night?"

"i can't, shoko, you know i get horny when i'm crossed~" you whine, your doe eyes getting wider in desperation. oh cool, you're off the deep end now. you're just fully horny and admitting it in front of satoru who will, at the very least, use this as incriminating evidence tomorrow.

"i can help with that," satoru flirts brazenly through the alcohol in his system, bringing you closer to him and holding you tight.

"desperation is such a turn off," utahime says almost immediately.

you giggle as you melt into satoru's chest once more. "what's going on, toji not treatin' ya right?"

your body almost instantaneously goes rigid upon hearing his name, and your senses almost clear up. you whip your phone of your purse, completely ignoring satoru's question and check your messages to see if you got a notification from toji, only to see nothing. you groan and rub your temples in stress. "okay guys, gather around. this is an emergency," you say as everyone huddles closer to you.

"it's not an emergency, FYI", shoko clarifies, already having heard this story in the uber ride here.

you explain to utahime and satoru about how toji had not responded to your explicit picture since this afternoon, and how you're feeling stupid and insecure about it. "i mean, is there something wrong with me? did i cross a line? how can you ignore the same titties you sucked on less than 24 hours ago?" you say frustratingly, the alcohol once again allowing you to give way more detail than you normally would.

"you see, it's a bit hard for me to, like, understand exactly what the situation is. i think i need to see the picture you sent him to really understand and help you out, y/n." satoru says with dead seriousness as he locks his eyes with you.

"oh yeah of course!" you say as you unlock your phone and are about to show him before shoko grabs your phone away and utahime flicks his forehead.

"you nasty disgusting pervert..." she mumbles, shaking her head.

"she was literally about to show me~" he whines. "i was asking as a friend, a homie."

"okay, listen y/n. he's probably busy. he's literally a single dad, and maybe he's busy with megumi. maybe he's trying to find a real job besides being a gigolo, we don't know but it's lame to dwell on it. let's just finish up this joint and head to the barcade soon, okay?" shoko assures, holding your hand as utahime puts your phone back in your purse. god, you love them so much it hurts.

you nod your head rapidly, as satoru gets a chime on his phone.

"ohhh, shit!" he exclaims, "this girl i helped today during lab is here. and she might actually show me her titties unlike you guys, so...i'm gonna leave."

you roll your eyes in even more annoyance. great, now satoru is gonna be hanging out some random airhead while you're left to your own vices for the rest of the night? you really don't want to spend the night waiting for toji to text, and you don't care to particularly ask satoru for help. but it does make you even more desperate knowing that you're still pretty drunk and everyone in your friend group seems to be getting laid tonight except for you. maybe you can find someone cute in the barcade?

as you all bid satoru goodbye, you continue to enjoy a couple more minutes with shoko and utahime while they finish smoking the joint. once it's finished, you all are ready to head out.

"okay, you get satoru, and we'll get suguru and riko," utahime instructs. that's so high school teacher of her, you think and bite back a smile.

"who's gonna kick everyone out of this...pregame house party thing?" you ask, gesturing to the 20 or so people getting progressively more drunk and sweaty in the boys' living room and kitchen.

"suguru will handle it, not our problem," utahime says, lighting out the joint into the nearest succulent pot in the balcony. she grabs shoko's hand and leads her out of the balcony, and you follow suit.

your nose is once again met with the stench of beer and sweat, and you make a face. your eyes scan the room full of party goers for satoru, as it shouldn't be hard to find the tallest person in the room with the brightest hair, but with no luck. ugh, he's probably somewhere in the rest of the apartment with that girl, you think, not looking forward to meeting some random slag satoru was probably going to sleep with.

as you made your way through the living room to the hallway to the boys' room and bathroom, trying your best to avoid the damp sweaty skins of people and sticky floors, you realize you need to pee really badly. you shove your way to the empty hallway and quickly down the rest of your white claw before beelining to the restroom at the end of the hallway.

as you're nearing the corner turn, you hear...oh god, are you hearing? moans? of course, someone is bound to hook up at this trashy party and make you feel even worse for being so drunk and horny and having no one tonight. that's okay though, you have a plan: you'll do your best not to make eye contact to the couple just turn right into the bathroom. just as you're about to execute this plan and turn the corner, you hear them moan, "o-oh satoru~" and your head immediately whips to the direction of the person who made the offensive noise.

you're not sure what you feel and you think you feel many things, including but not limited to: disgust, hostility, annoyance and...jealousy? wait, no, that can't be right.

your eyes widen and your jaw drops and you scoff as you see satoru french kissing some floozy outside his room, his hands up her shirt feeling her titties. wait, are you jealous or turned on? wait, what's happening?

satoru hears your scoff and rapidly removes his hands from the girl's shirt and stops kissing her to look at your bewildered and exasperated face. you give him a look that says "are you serious?" before you chuck your empty white claw can at him (he deftly dodges it) and shout, "get a room! but also get ready, you horndog, we're leaving to the barcade!"

you don't wait to hear an answer as you immediately slip into the bathroom and lock the door. god what was that? okay, let's break this down, you think to yourself, desperately scrambling to get your intoxicated thoughts in order. your head is slightly spinning and you lean on the bathroom sink for support as you try to sort out why you're feeling your chest drop in what you can only identify as jealousy. no, you're not jealous because you're in love with satoru, you're jealous because it just doesn't make sense.

if satoru is gonna fuck around with anyone tonight, it might as well be you, right? it's just rude, like as a friend, to kiss someone else who's not your friend when your friend is really horny, right? god, are your inebriated thoughts even making sense?

you try to snap out of delirium by turning on the faucet and drinking some water, trying to sober yourself down. or maybe you actually need to just get another drink? maybe you just need to find some cute guy to buy you a drink at the bar later and you'll snap out of it.

actually, maybe toji should just fucking text you back so you can go crawling to him at the end of the night so he can obliterate your pussy. you fish your phone out of your purse only to be met with no notifications from toji. you click on the message between you and toji, and start to draft out some lewd and lecherous texts to him. you thankfully, you don't have time to contemplate your actions or hit send before you hear the music die and people groaning.

you hear suguru yelling at everyone to get the fuck out and either go home or to the barcade, and you hear satoru start singing closing time, slurring the lyrics. this is the guy you're jealous about? this is the fella you want to lowkey fuck?

you pray that either a) toji messages you back or b) you find a nice non-creepy guy at the bar who's willing to at least make out with you, or 3) you instantly get sober after peeing.

only time will tell.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tank moment - mauga

summary; title slightly irrelevant, i wanted to be funny. iykyk

genre/extra tags; headcanons/bullet fic, i talk about mauga hcs i thought of on the fly, reader is implied to be a support character, reader is also part of talon group, fluff, i only know the bare minimum about him and that's all i need baby, is this platonic or romantic idk

[gender neutral reader] [canon typical violence mentioned]

a/n; im back on my overwatch era. it never really ended but, i want to write about him, mauga, the beloved. typing this on my phone and finishing on my computer if anything seems wonky shhh dont tell me i'll relive that mistake for days

also this is a somewhat lightly reseached- aka not fully accurate/detailed work. i briefly mention samoan culture and if it offends or if it's a mistake, please tell me and i will erase those parts asap.

[support me and buy a kofi]

🗣 ALRIGHT SO ‼️

i've been watching and playing with/against mauga since the trial to play him came out and god i love him

but he's kind of easy to counter (im an ana main, nade is fucking broken but that's just anti heal things) and his ult is annoying

anyways

every tank needs their heal bot to keep em up

you just happen to be mauga's heal bot KDJSJSJ

(baptiste is too probably but not really)

he's a really smug guy

no one really knows that bc he sounds so upbeat and nice

but he loves to tease you, poke at you bc he knows that you will answer to him most of the time and entertain him in conversation

you and him are probably in your world even when you're both in talon tbh

he does his own thing and you just happen to join in

(he totally baits you to join his plans and you both know it)

he's a chaotic and cunning man and you're his enabler

(sounds like me and my bestie tbh)

"a hero would sacrifice you to save the world but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you" type beat

he's lowkey possessive but we dont talk about that

jk we do talk abt it

he's your scary guard dog privileges

like that man is tall tall ‼️‼️

idk why but i dont really imagine him being like an openly sweet person

he keeps it private even with how loud he is

anyways

you know how he's on a yacht for his origin story and there's like a bunch of people who got destroyed by him?

yeah he would totally do that shit for u if you asked.

he would give you the best home but

"thanks for the new place and all but did you have to kill someone for it?"

"i mean come on! this place is nice! let's enjoy it!"

he's very "i'll do the dirty work, just sit back and look pretty." and then you're like, "yeah i could. but i won't."

dps support vibes for you ✨️

but also he's charging in most of the time so, there's not much time to dps support KDHDJDJJD

he's like the kool aid man bursting in through the walls /j

cough

back to the hcs here...

he's so tall and big, he would totally let you hang off his back like nunu and wilump (from league, yeah i play league dont remind me totally gonna write for heartsteel soon tm)

also he's literally the greatest heated blanket (ahead of roadhog)

he's so stronk and wowowowow im so gay i love him

when you're surrounded by some enemies, he's charging in, slamming the ground and carrying you with ease as he keeps you safe while destroying any enemies who even tried to touch you

ugh

despite his lack of pda, he's a very actions over words.

he's so silly

chivalry isn't dead when he breaks into a jewelry store for u 😍😍

if you ever have those crazy thoughts about crime, he's totally gonna enable you and let you reign havoc on god knows what.

love language is actions and gift giving. enough said.

when he gives you a hug, he's so fucking warm omg

i said it before and i'll say it again, he's the best heated blanket, literal furnace

bad for the people who sweat easily though (ahem me lowkey)

one the off-days where it's just a day off and relaxing, he's taking care of you well !!

when you're on talon missions, since he can't run around as easily unless he gets the okay but you do keep him company until then

he likes to protect but he loves destroying people

he knows you're able to care for yourself, so he can go crazy whenever, and he loves that.

he also loves watching you get mad or angrily passionate

"yes go, la'u ma’asoama!" (my rock/stone, get it? bc his name means mountain)

he is a really good hype man. even if you're the one in the wrong.

god I WISH I LOOKED UP MORE ABOUT HIM ARGBHYKFJ

soon (tm)

someday i'll write more.