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love-toxin · 2 years

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stuck in the tree house together you say👀 MESSY CONFESSION SEX YOU SAY👁️👄👁️ I- 🤤🥵😈 this is gonna keep me up tonight 💦

OK IM COMING BACK TO THIS BC I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS....WOOF

max in the treehouse hcs (spoiler-heavy)

☆ hc / ♡ spicy hc (cw: blood)

☆ So in this scenario the prologue is a little different; not only are Max and Laura best friends rather than partners, but you're the third BFF that's tagging along as a new camp counselor at Hackett's Quarry summer camp.

☆ Obviously you veer off the road and end up crossing paths with Travis Hackett as per usual, but the cell between your best friends is now occupied by you. You're dragged along through those hellish two months beside your friends, plus, you have to watch as Max transforms for the first time and Laura suffers the injury that takes out her eye. Traumatizing, no?

☆ As such, you can sense that your feelings for Max are getting stronger and harder to hide as your ordeal drags on. Especially when he gets so protective over both you and Laura when you get dragged away for interrogations, and he never fails to threaten Travis if he even thinks about doing something to you when he takes you away for showers. Your common sense tells you that it's just who Max is, that he's just naturally protective over his friends--but part of you wonders if that glare he shoots Travis whenever he gets near you is protection, or if it's partly jealousy, too. But you're probably just projecting. Right..?

☆ Wrong! Maybe. You have no idea what Max is thinking, but when you finally escape the jailhouse and venture out with your friends towards the camp to break the curse, it's near impossible for you to decide whether you should tell him how you feel. He's already got so much on his plate, and Laura is determined to fight tooth and nail to rescue him, so it's probably not the best time.

☆ However, you have little idea of where you stand in this fight. Laura certainly won't let you come along with her when she's heading right into danger--she's already let Max get infected, she can't let anything happen to her other best friend too--but when you declare that you'll go with Max to the island to make sure he's locked away safely, he has a million reasons as to why you can't come. Whereas Laura actually thinks it's for the better, Max is terrified that he'll end up hurting you--but in the end you and Laura are more convincing, and he resigns himself to it but at least makes it clear that he's glad you're with him, despite the danger it poses to you.

☆ It feels a little less exciting to have some alone time with him when he's getting ready to turn, though. You're on the top floor of the treehouse and about to descend through the trap door to leave him, but he won't let you go. He's got his hands all over you, hugging you, sniffing your hair, begging you in that whiny tone for you not to leave. He feels so awful, you won't leave him like this, right? He needs you to feel better, you can't leave, you just can't.

☆ It's so hard to pull away from him, but if you can, you have to do it quickly. A tearful "I'm sorry, Max!" a hard shove to get him off of you, and a drop through the open door before you hurry to close it and lock it shut with shaky hands. That's all you have to do, and you can wait it out until morning, through all the snarling and growling and crashing around you have to listen to up there until he finally turns back into your Max.

☆ Or, the more likely option. In your attempt to get away from him, Max bites you and infects you without meaning to. When you step back and look down at your bleeding arm or feel at your neck to realize what he's done, he sobers up for a precious second--"Oh my god, oh my god! I'm so sorry-"--before his transformation really starts taking over.

☆ The worst part of the experience is definitely that hour or two that it takes you to turn yourself. You not only have to watch your crush shift in an explosion of blood into a monster, but you can do nothing but watch his werewolf self pace around in front of you, unable to bite you but not quite convinced that he can't eat you. At least when you change forms yourself, you aren't really aware of much, even though it's still an awful experience.

☆ And when you wake up, lo and behold, what you thought could only be a dream has become your reality. Maybe you were tussling with each other or he, in his werewolf mind, decided you were good enough to take a nap on--because you awaken with your back to the wood floor, and Max's human body laid out on top of you. The blood makes everything a lot slicker and more disgusting, but the warmth of his skin as his head rests on your chest and his stomach lays comfortably between your legs is a feeling you never knew you craved so much.

♡ And even though you're naked in front of each other for the first time, you can't help but throw your arms around him and hug him even closer when he lifts his head up to look at you.

☆ "Oh my god, she...oh, my god, I'm naked...y-you're naked!"

♡ You can't really blame him for staring at first, but he averts his eyes once the realization dawns on him and it's...so cute. You could spot his blush from a mile away even under layers of blood. The two of you get to your feet and the air has changed--it's quieter, more tense, both of you shyly looking away but stealing peeks at each other when you think they aren't looking. All it takes is one moment where your eyes meet and you both laugh at yourselves, partly out of shame and partly out of relief, and the mood relaxes again.

☆ Maybe you mention ducking out to the shore to wash up, because you don't want to get your clothes dirty and nobody's around, so nobody will see you--but Max immediately objects, and you're both faced with a truth that he can't bear to say out loud. You recognize it, he knows it, and your lips flicker up into a smile as you look at your best friend with too much love for it to be platonic anymore.

♡ "Why don't we go together?"

♡ "I don't...I don't think I can wait that long."

☆ You don't have to ask Max what he means by that. His eyes say enough, and it seems as though the looks you share are the only language you can speak coherently now.

☆ The first kiss comes with only the gentlest warning, Max's hands on your cheeks, and he doesn't wait for you to make the move. Each one after that is firmer, more passionate, and the weight of his body pushes you backwards until you hit the wall. And even then, Max pauses for only a second to let you feel his hand grazing your thigh, and at your nod he hikes it up over his hip and takes his time in lifting the other so he doesn't drop you.

♡ By then it's clear that you're both ready for this, Max especially seems like he's been waiting for it for awhile, and when he slides in slow it's like a lock being broken open inside you. Blood smeared over your bodies and nothing but a cheap lantern on the windowsill to light your way isn't enough to deter either of you when your eyes have been opened.

♡ And it just makes it easier for you to let him know you're enjoying yourself too by being as loud as you want. He doesn't mind it, if that wasn't clear by him praising you for it and telling you how hard you make him when you moan his name.

♡ He just can't get close enough, either. You're already propped up between him and the wall in this position, and yet if he isn't kissing you feverishly then he's burying his face in your neck and sucking hickies into your skin, like he doesn't even care if people notice. It hadn't occurred to you, but maybe Max secretly likes that. Sweet, goofy Max, marking you up so that everyone knows he's had his hands on you....it's more than your poor heart can handle.

♡ It's such an overload to your senses that you almost don't catch what he's whispering into your skin, his lips trailing higher and higher until they're brushing against your earlobe, and you can't possibly miss it when his mouth is so close. "I love you, I'm in love with you, so much, I love you so much..."

♡ Maybe it's more an act of getting it out of his system while he can, you can feel the worry in his shoulders as you dig your nails into his muscles while they flex with effort. It certainly feels that way when you answer him with an "I love you too, Max," and he falls silent, save for the grunts and gasping as he rushes his pace even faster and melts with how hot you are around him.

♡ His confessions are louder after that, bolder, more possessive even. He pulls back to look down at the place where your bodies are connected, your arms holding on to his shoulders for dear life, and lets a deep groan out of his throat before telling you how pretty you look taking his dick. It's so lewd and he's got such a sultry gaze as he says it that you're not even sure if this is Max, or if the werewolf inside him is still churning around as it tries to claw itself out.

♡ It's too much for you to hold out too long, and the exhaustion from the night's events don't help either. Max is so close that his body is rubbing up against those sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your back arch into him, and right when you're gripping him tight as your body tenses up and he's moving to let you down to your feet, Max suddenly whines a stuttered apology into your ear. He wasn't quick enough, and you can feel something draining down your inner thighs, but it's hard to care when you're clinging on to him for dear life and cumming against him on your tiptoes.

♡ Everything that happens afterwards feels like a blur. Max brings you down to the floor and doesn't let you fall, you wipe each other down with towels you hadn't realized Laura had packed away, and he helps you dress and kisses the dopey grin on your face as he does so. More "I love you"s are exchanged, albeit a bit sleepily, and Max makes you laugh by squeezing himself into Laura's girly gym clothes before holding a hand out for you to take.

☆ But when you lean on Max for support as you retrace your steps back along the walkway and descend the last set of steps down to the grass, your eyes laser right towards the figure sitting on a stump near the pier. Laura's hunched over, tired-looking, bloody, but to your shock she looks up and evaluates you and Max with two eyes, rather than one.

☆ You can't help running over to throw yourself into a hug, who wouldn't? You feared she would die more than you feared for your own life, and here she is, in even better shape than she was when you parted ways.

☆ She has plenty of words for you when you finish squeezing her tight, though, and at her first smug comment of "So I guess you two had fun?" you and Max exchange sheepish looks as you realize how much she must have overheard. Luckily for you the three of you can share a laugh about it though, especially when Laura gets a look at Max's getup and shares a giggle with you as he strikes some poses, and it's not long before you three are in the canoe and paddling back to the main shore as the sun starts to rise on the horizon and the last night of your long nightmare falls away.

#max brinly #max brinly x reader #laura kearney #the quarry #hcs #the quarry hcs #anons

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cdelphiki · 2 years

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I’ve been slowly chipping away at the next chapter of Reclaiming Innocence over the past two weeks? I think? I have the first draft completely done, but I’ve been struggling to find the time and focus to get the polished draft done to post. I’ve got about 2/3 of it left, but here’s a cute little scene from the start of it for y’all.

The rest of the day was just as fun as the start. They played the rest of their Monopoly game, then they had chili for dinner. Just because Alfred said he noticed how much Jason liked it the last time Alfred had made it.

Jason was ready to call it the best day ever by bedtime, when Bruce went and said something to make it seventy-million times cooler.

“What do you say about joining Batman and Robin out for a spin tonight?” Bruce asked, just before Jason usually went up for bed.

The question was so out of left-field, Jason froze for a solid second before he sat forward in his seat on the couch and exclaimed, “Like, in the Batmobile?!”

Was Bruce really seriously offering that? Because Jason might just die if he was.

“If you think you’d enjoy it,” Bruce said evenly, though Jason could tell he was hiding a gigantic smile behind his faux disinterested facade.

Jason was too excited to even call him on it. “Are you kidding?” he shouted, jumping to his feet. There was nothing on earth he’d enjoy doing more.

Nothing.

“YES,” he nearly shouted, “Right now? Can we go right now?”

Bruce finally gave into his smile then, and let out a chuckle as he said, “All right, all right. Why don’t you go see if Dick is ready to get going for the night.”

“DICK,” Jason screamed, already running out of the room before Bruce had even finished his sentence.

#reclaiming innocence #update hopefully coming soon #i might find time tomorrow #if not friday is my next free time #then again sunday #;\#im in dc today and i tried to get some done tonight but wound up goig out with coworkers instead #usually hotel time is PERFECT writing time for me but nope not this time

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themuseoftheviolets · 8 months

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Hello??? I just read it’s you?? I’m?? Obsessed. OhmyGOD I love the way you write them. I want a million words of them!!

Do you have any wips?? How did you think of them?? It’s so beautiful??

Anyways hello

HIIIII!!!!! thank you so much this made me so happy akjdksks

putting this under the cut because i got really excited to talk about them:

emjegulily happened so quickly it's like i was compelled to write them. i've always loved jegulily and regulus and emmeline were always a friendship i really liked, and then one night i started thinking about them as a romantic pairing which surprised me because a week before i hated the idea? like they were strictly platonic to me and then they just Weren't

at the time i was thinking of exes to lovers jegulily where jily is still together and they see regulus again, and i was thinking about them thinking he and emmeline are a couple because they act like one in my head, and then i started thinking about them as polycule

regulus and emmeline to me are a duo that just knows each other so well. like you know the lyric 'it feels good to be known so well / i can't hide from you like i hide from myself' from true blue by boygenius? that's them to me. they just get each other and they know everything about each other and they're just very comfortable and secure with each other

and then we have james and emmeline who are very similar and once they start talking they get along like a house on fire. they're both outgoing and flirty people and they're just so much fun to think about

lily would take a little while longer to warm up to emmeline because she's very set on disliking her, but emmeline would win her over once they get to know each other better

i thought of them for the first time like right after i woke up, and i kept thinking of them the whole day and then in the afternoon i made a tumblr draft that was just going to be random scenes of them that i was thinking might turn into a minific but then i blinked and it was over 2k

i have never written that much that fast before it's like i was possessed. i wrote it in basically one sitting and mostly on my phone and with no outline or anything. i only had the scene of reguline waking up in my head, the rest just came to me as i was writing

i believe in total it was 12 hours from when i first thought of them to when i posted it's you? which is wild to me

and i do have many wips, one of which is another emjegulily!! in this one has the same set up as it's you, but reguline are already dating

the plot is basically emmeline romancing jily and taking them out on dates, and for now it's titled 'romancing your boyfriend's exes in three easy steps'. i haven't written much for it yet, but just for you here's what i do have:

“This is a bad idea.” Regulus says again, bracing his hands on the counter he is sitting on. There are in the shop’s small kitchen, which is only supposed to be used by the employees, but Emmeline and Regulus are family, and the shop is their second home at this point, so no one ever says anything.

Emmeline sighs, putting her mug down and walking over to stand in front of her boyfriend, in between his legs. She places her hands on his thighs.

“It’ll be fine.” She reassures him for the hundredth time today, rubbing circles into his skin with her thumb. She moves her head forward to rest their foreheads together. “It won’t take long.”

very little as of right now and this might change, but for context: the shop they're in is emmeline's uncle's mechanic shop, and jily are bringing their car there to be fixed

i have a few ideas for the dates emmeline is going to take them on, one of which is one of those drive-in movies that she'll take lily to

and while emmeline is out with lily regulus is with james, and when she's out with james regulus is with lily. and at the end they'll have a date that's all four of them

they are very precious to me and i love them so much and i'm so happy you liked them too!! this ask made really happy i've been smiling so hard since you sent it thank you so much!!!

#<3333333 #it's you #romancing your boyfriend's exes in three easy steps #emjegulily #mail

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greatprotector-if · 11 months

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Hii, I want to make if game but I'm kinda slow writer. Also I have never written so many words like other authors and it's a bit paralyzing. Do you have any advice how to deal with it?

anon i am so sorry this is 100% just rambling. the TLDR; my advice to you is this: comparison is the thief of joy. i know it's hard not to compare yourself to others, it's a super natural instinct for most of us, but seriously, as long as you're doing the best that you can, it doesn't matter how much or how little everyone else is doing. try changing your scenery! write in a different location! write using different materials! don't even bother with proper grammar and punctuation or whether things sound good or make sense for your rough draft. just write. Don't go back and fix things. and it might suck and you might just end up having to rewrite the entire thing in the end but at least now you know what not to do! and i am wishing you the absolute best in all your if writing endeavours <3

i'm fr just a guy so i'm so sorry if this advice is shit. i'm not a professional. idk if you came to me just because you saw the "slow writer" in the intro post and you saw a kindred spirit, but just in case you are not aware.... i am such a slow writer and i'll be so honest when i started tgp by far the longest thing i'd written was 11k words and it took like... 10 months to finish. usually the stuff i wrote was 500 words in Total and i was also the type of fanfic writer on wattpad who'd post three chapters and then never touch the book ever again

so, not a great foundation for a game that requires this level of commitment, and i knew that!! but i dunno i was so excited about the idea and the characters and i felt like i needed to share it with the world so i just went fuck it and started. when i first got that intro post up i had nothing but a handful of characters, a vague idea and a dream.......

basically what i'm trying to say is. I get it.

and my advice to you is: just do it LOL just write your if game!!!

it will be scary and impostor syndrome is SUCH A BITCH. you will encounter authors who will write like 100k words in the time it takes you to write 5k and THAT IS OKAY. I FEEL THIS EVERY DAY. BUT YOUR WORTH IS NOT BASED ON HOW MANY WORDS YOU CAN WRITE IN AN HOUR, SO TRY YOUR BEST NOT TO BE TOO HARSH ON YOURSELF. COMPARISON IS THE THIEF OF JOY. if your best one day is 15 words and they aren't even good words? that's fine. at least you're getting something down. you are doing the best you can in that moment, and that's what's most important!!!

ALSO WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO WRITE. you cannot appeal to everyone. there will be people who simply will not enjoy your game and you know.. we ball anyway because there will also be people who LOVE YOUR GAME JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO, IF NOT MORE. i find that a lot of the time i'm stuck because i'm so worried about catering to my audience, and while it's okay to be conscious of these things, don't let it paralyze you. do not make your story about a bunch of bullshit you don't care about just because it's popular or something or you will just Never progress because you don't care about writing it. those days i shit out 1k (WHICH IS A LOT FOR ME IN ONE DAY) are because i'm like JUMPING OFF THE WALLS EXCITED ABOUT WHAT I'M WRITING ABOUT. WHO CARES IF WHAT YOU WANT TO WRITE ABOUT IS CRINGE (cringe culture is dead anyway) OR SUPER NICHE OR WON'T GET YOU A MILLION FOLLOWERS IMMEDIATELY. i mean don't get me wrong validation feels so good i'm a bit of an attention whore myself but also you deserve to create things that make you feel good, and this is what sustains a long-term project. You know? You feel me? You pickin up what i'm putting down? plus there will always be other people who vibe with your story, no matter how much you think you're the only one it appeals to.

but just in case you aren't just here for incoherent moral support, i would highly recommend straying away from plain old google docs or whatever it is that you usually use to write and trying new things! pen and paper??? pen and Cardboard box (this one works really well for me for my art block for some reason LMAO)??? write while sitting on the stairs instead of at your desk??? stimuwrite 2.0 (i cannot recommend this enough the bubble wrap sounds are sooo good)???

also. remember that rough drafts are just that: Rough Drafts. just write!!! maybe it'll turn out great, but maybe it'll be complete shit. maybe it'll make you want to throw up just reading it back. DON'T DELETE IT AND WORRY ABOUT HOW TO MAKE IT SOUND BETTER. I DONT CARE IF YOU ACCIDENTALLY USED THE WORD "JUST" 3 TIMES IN 1 SENTENCE. AS LONG AS YOU GOT THE MESSAGE ACROSS ENOUGH FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND IT YOU'RE GOOD TO GO.

ok sorry i am mildly sleep deprived at the time of writing this i'm so sorry if i literally just didn't answer any kf your questions at any point in here. i have no idea what i'm doing i just roll with the punches!!!!!!

#answered asks #anon #I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR IF GAME ANON #IT WILL BE AMAZING

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

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So I may or may not have thought up a whole lotta back story for Jake in that NFL au we've been talking about.

And uh, spoiler alert, I totally did! 😆

Enjoy!

(there are also fixes for the timeline issues we discovered due to the length of an NFL season so that Ronnie can actually end up going into labor at full term after they win the Super Bowl😄)

Jake went to the University of Texas on a football scholarship

Towards the end of his freshman year, he starts dating a girl he met in his Comparative Literature class (Jake is secretly a giant bookworm).

Jake’s always been a hopeless romantic, so he falls for her hard and fast. They end up dating all four years of college and by the end of their senior year Jake is sure she’s The One. Can imagine his whole future with her.

She’s the picture perfect college football girlfriend and when he tells her that he wants to put his name in for the NFL draft she is enthusiastically supportive of the idea.

Senior year rolls around and while he doesn’t win the Heisman there’s still a lot of talk in the world of college sports media and NFL media about his draft possibilities.

The Minnesota Vikings take him at number 25 in the first round. Not as high as the analysts thought he’d go, but still pretty decent.

While Jake wasn’t exactly excited to be moving to Minnesota, he was thrilled nonetheless that his dream of playing in the NFL was coming true. His girlfriend on the other hand, was almost embarrassingly vocal about her dislike of having to move to Minnesota. She also kept making little comments about how purple really isn’t her color and that she looks better in a light blue “like that LA Chargers blue”.

Jake’s rookie year in Minnesota is not his best year, both professionally and personally.

Jake and the other rookies quickly realize that playing in the NFL is way different than playing in college and they all struggle to adapt, with Jake taking the longest. Which frustrates him to no end.

At home, his relationship with his girlfriend is starting to crack but Jake refuses to admit it. He’s also refusing to admit the painful truth that his girlfriend wasn’t still with him because she loved it, she was still with him because she loved the idea of being the girlfriend/wife of a professional athlete.

If he had been truthful with himself, he would have noticed his relationship was headed south based on his girlfriend’s reaction to not having unrestricted access to the account his NFL money went to.

At the end of his rookie year, Jake is traded to the Indianapolis Colts and his girlfriend breaks up with him. She admits to him that this was not the kind of life she envisioned when he said he wanted to play in the NFL. She was expecting a life like that of Tom Brady & Gisele Bundchen (before the divorce lol), hanging out and becoming friends with celebrities and living in a million dollar mansion.

So Jake starts his second year in the NFL in Indianapolis with a broken and now jaded heart. He decides he’s not going to let anyone get close to him again. No relationships, just fun and done.

It doesn’t take too long before he’s got a reputation as both a player and the team asshole.

Cue Ronnie showing up a little over halfway through his second year with the Colts.

Jake freely admits to himself that he finds her attractive. During practice he makes comments and remarks that definitely toe the line between appropriate and not appropriate.

But Ronnie gives as good as she gets and Jake starts to admire her for that.

Towards the end of the season, the two of them have definitely become more flirty with each other.

The Colts just miss making it to the AFC Championship that season.

One of the other guys on the team hosts a Super Bowl party for those who are still in town and both Jake (who lives in Indy year round) and Ronnie go.

A drunk kiss or three happens between the two of them.

When sober they admit to each other that they find the other one attractive. With it now the off season, they decide on a no strings attached fwb thing.

Over the next four months, Jake starts to catch feelings. Somewhere along the line, Ronnie has (unbeknownst to her) chipped away at the walls around his heart. (if he was honest with himself, she basically blew them up).

But he doesn’t want these feelings because the last time he let a girl in, she broke his heart.

And just as Jake is finally starting to think that it might not be so bad to let Ronnie in, that’s when she tells him she’s pregnant (Ronnie taking some antibiotics for strep throat plus one night where they had a bit too much to drink to remember to use backup protection equals oops).

Jake freaks out.

He freaks out because his first thought wasn’t “shit”, his first thought was “our baby is going to be so adorable”. Quickly followed by “this baby is half Ronnie and I already love it” with images flashing in his mind of Ronnie living with him at his place, watching her glow as her bump gets bigger, Jake holding a baby that has his nose and Ronnie’s eyes, watching a toddler run down a hallway, giggling as Jake & Ronnie give chase.

Jake slams the brakes on that train of thought as fast as he can.

Instead what comes out is "Look, we had fun. It was good! But, you know...I didn't sign up for this. I'm not exactly cut out for the parenting life." despite the fact that he’s always wanted a family, always wanted to be a dad. Ignoring how much his heart is breaking again, he just looks at Ronnie and tells her to take care of it.

This happens around mid to end of June. Jake stops talking to Ronnie.

They don’t see each other again until training camp in August.

Jake asks Ronnie if she’s “solved her problem” and that’s when Ronnie tells Jake she decided to keep the baby. He’s secretly relieved and he may or may not have cried when he got home that night.

He still keeps his distance from her because he still refuses to admit to himself his feelings for her. Plus Ronnie has made it pretty clear she doesn’t want or need his help.

And then the rest of it plays out like how we talked about before with Ronnie just starting her second trimester when the season starts.

She ends up staying with Jake at his place because something happens to her apartment - like it catches on fire or mold is found? Or maybe Ronnie starts getting disturbing hate mail from people who don’t think women should be allowed to coach in the NFL or a stalker and the team is like “you need to find someplace safer to live for a while until the police catch this crazy person” and Jake just “casually” offers up one of his spare bedrooms.

Ronnie gets to his place "For someone who lives by themselves, why is your place so big?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to deal with buying a house so I told my agent to deal with it. Just said it had to have a pool, privacy, and enough room to have parties. Oh, and a nice bathroom."

INDY THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING ON THE FUCKING PLANET I AM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP YOUR MIND I CAN'T

new and improved timeline y'all she's going on the masterlist

the broken heart?? the guardedness to protect himself?? being in the NFL not what he thought it would be?? him falling for ronnie despite every attempt not to (a running gag with this man i see)?? i am SCREAMING

#annie answers #my darling darling indy #oc: ronnie bradshaw #nfl au #football player jake #football player hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman

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deanlombardi · 3 years

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a very DEAN LOMBARDI moodboard

"i’m a twat. i don’t know why i’m like this.”

#moodboard #musings #used a tony stonem quote cause the lorenzo gif has tony vibes #also im super late to the party but i always loved me a good moodboard #got a little too excited and have about a million in the drafts now:)

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lovely-angst · 3 years

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break ups and break ins

a/n: i didn't have any motivation to continue writing so it stayed in my drafts for forever. it's a super messy fic im not super proud of tbh i wanted to scrap it but i got so far lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: you and hawks break up, but someone breaks in?

word count: 3.7k+

09.16.21

"come on, stop being so sensitive," hawks groans with an eye roll as you gawk at him. "you think i'm being sensitive because I'm hurt that you're out there flirting with other girls while we are in a relationship?"

you scoff in disbelief before tears form in your eyes, "i can't believe you right now, keigo."

hawks' brows knit as he stares at you bewildered, "i've already told you that it's just an act i have to out up because of the commission. i can't let them figure out i have a romantic relationship with someone. you don't know what they would do or could do."

"but that doesn't mean you can flirt around with no boundaries!" your voice comes out loud as your arms flail out in front of you, tears streaming down your face, "do you know how much it hurts to see you on television sweet-talking every girl out there when you're my boyfriend? i thought you would respect what we have..."

"(name), just admit you're just jealous of the fangirls and leave it at that," hawks closes his eyes, shaking his head in frustration, "honestly, they appreciate me so much more than you do."

your eyes widen in shock as you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces so small you aren't sure if you could piece it back up.

"keigo, i love you for who you are—not because you're hawks," your voice now small and laced with hurt. "if you can't see the reason why i am so upset, i think it's best if we end it."

hawks' eyes quickly glance to yours before they look away just as quick, "i think that's what's best too," he whispers, causing your brows to furrow in sadness as you purse your lips tightly.

taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around your now ex-boyfriend, taking in his comforting arms and smell, "thanks for everything." a heavy sigh left from his lips before he nuzzled into you, "can i hold you in bed one last time?"

words died in your throat as you felt the tears sting your eyes once more. a nod was your only reply as hawks lifted the two of you up with his large wings, carrying you into the bedroom.

no words were exchanged as the two of you allowed your quiet breaths to mingle together in silence.

your heart was still achey from the fresh break-up as your cries and tears quietly filled the air. your nose and eyes red and raw from all the wiping you had done—the tissues around you as proof.

"hey, come on. you can't keep living like this and expect to get better," mirko says and she stands infront of you with a small smile. "how about we watch something to distract your mind?" she suggests as she turns around to pick up the controller to turn the television screen on.

"hawks, being the number two hero must be so taxing! how do you do it?"

hawks gives that big bright smile you've always loved, "my fans always give me motivation to do my best! i love you my babybirds!"

"oh shit-" mirko quickly turns the television screen off before she turns over to you, watching as your lips quiver before you break out in another crying session.

"rumi," you whine, muffled behind your tissues, "he doesn't care for me at all!" letting out a sigh, she walks over and places a comforting hand on your hair before running her hand through your locks, "hey, don't say that. hawks' cared for you a lot. break-ups happen, but don't let it keep you like this. let's go out and have some fun today, yeah?"

your teary eyes glance up at her before you let out sigh, "okay."

but to your surprise, a quick hour later here you were on a chair getting your makeup done professionally as mirko sat on the couch, munching away on a carrot. "rumi? why am i getting my makeup done professionally?"

"my makeup artist is good at what she does when she beats my face with makeup for those hero galas. i thought it would make you feel better getting your makeup done professionally before we go out and explore the city a bit," she finishes, taking another crunchy bite of her carrot.

a small, "oh" leaves your lips before your attention focuses back on the lipstick that gently glided across your lips. "there, all done. you look great!" the makeup artist cheers as she hands you a mirror.

your eyes sparkled once you saw your reflection—you had never felt so pretty before!

"are you ready to go out now?" mirko asks with a smile as she stands from her seat. you couldn't help the small, yet excited, smile, "yeah."

your words had been on repeat in hawks' mind.

you were upset because of how he was treating his fans—flirting with his fans as you put it. it was a constant argument the two of you had and frankly, he was getting tired of it. why you couldn't understand where he was coming from?

he didn't want to break up because of something so trivial, but it seemed like a break up was the only option. but it was fine, his fans kept him going; or that's what he thought was keeping him going.

"hawks! we love you!" his fans cried as he landed down in front of them, his handsome smile swooning everyone lucky enough to get their eye on him. "thanks birdies! i'm always happy to have your support!"

"can i have a picture?" "sign my shirt for me!" "you're the best hero!"

fans; something he enjoyed about being a hero. everywhere he went, they were there to offer him their love and support which he appreciated and loved!

but there often came days when he just wanted to stay cooped in his apartment. away from the world and away from the hero hawks. he simply wanted to escape and enjoy being keigo for a little while.

maintaining a facade took a lot away from him. it was tiring, exhausting even, trying to keep up with how fast his mind was going. a million different things happening at once and hawks had to be able to solve them. a little much for a single guy, don't 'cha think?

landing in at his balcony, hawks let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with another tiring day of being the number two hero. thankfully, he had the next day off to do, well, nothing.

staring at the dark apartment with a an empty look, hawks let out a groan of exhaustion before unlocking the door and stepping in.

it was quiet, extra quiet these days. since he had gone to living by himself again.

after removing his hero gear, hawks walked into the kitchen and frowned at his lack of food in the fridge. usually, you were always there to greet him with a smile and a hearty dinner after a hard day at work.

well, that didn't matter anymore because you two had broken up, hawks mentally responded to his thoughts.

it seemed like tonight was one of those nights he really missed you.

you made this place feel like home and the more he thought about it, you were his home. he was safe with you and it was okay to let hawks go for the night and just be keigo. you loved him as he came, his flaws and everything. even the emotional baggage!

letting out an exhausted sigh, hawks closed his empty fridge before making his way towards his bed, plopping down with a grunt. "i'll just get a bigger breakfast tomorrow," he noted, pulling out his phone to catch up on his social media for the night.

hawks wasn't expecting to see much on his social media, he's too busy to be checking these sorts of things. today though, he was a little extra bored at home—until he saw a photo of you that mirko shared.

hawks quickly sat up in disbelief. hawks was genuinely confused. you had always been super pretty, but you were extra pretty in this picture. was it because you were no longer his? his eyes glanced over you in the photo for many long minutes as he took in your beauty. you looked so ethereal.

hawks was so thankful for mirko, he would have never stumbled across this photo of you.

the more he smiled at the photo, the more his heart ached. if only he just listened to you more and tried to find a solution to this problem, you would still be with him, in his arms. he was a fool to let you go because he didn't understand your pain. especially when you were always there for him when you couldn't understand his pain.

hawks found himself pulling up that photo of you whenever the days were tough. it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

until mirko deleted the post.

he should've saved it when he had the chance, hawks thought as he let out a groan upon finding no picture. but, maybe mirko still had it on her phone? thankfully, there was a top five hero meeting that day which meant he could ask mirko about the picture.

hawks sat impatiently in his chair as he drummed his finger against his thigh, counting down the minutes until the meeting would conclude. it must've been distracting, because mirko approached him first after the meeting.

"hey birdbrain, what's up with you? you looked distracted during the meeting," mirko questioned walking up to the winged hero. hawks perked up slightly, before giving her a smile, "hmm? nah, just sick of meetings, wanted to get out." mirko eyed him curiously, "if you say so."

"i saw that picture you posted of (name)," he commented, "you two were hanging out?"

"huh? oh, this picture?" pulling up the picture on her phone, she showed him the photo before pulling away to hawks' dismay. "yeah, we went out. it was about time too! (name) seemed to be enjoying herself, so i'm glad i got to capture that."

hawks couldn't help the smile on his lips knowing that you were happy and could enjoy yourself. he really just wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with him.

"if you wanted the photo, you could've just asked," mirko smirks, causing hawks to duck his head down in embarrassment. "but even if you ask, im not giving it to you." Hawks turned his head brows furrowed and confused, slightly offended, "why would you even suggest it then?"

"not sure, maybe it'll be a way to encourage you to find a way to get it."

mirko had an interesting way of talking, hawks thought as he continued on with his patrol. it seemed like she was hinting at more than what she was saying, but he wasn't really interested in solving puzzles when he was busy being the number 2 hero.

and boy, was he busy busy.

it felt as if all the villains knew hawks would be out on patrol today, using that to their advatange by stiring up so much more trouble than on a typical day—not that he couldn't handle it, it was just more work that he would have hoped to do that day.

from the sky, he could see a crowd forming below on the streets as they cheered him on for another successful capture. hawks let out an exhausted sigh, but floated down to greet his fans nonetheless. there even happened to be press.

"hawks! you were amazing out there!" "great work! i can always count on you!" "you looked so attractive fighting those villains!"

hawks lifted up his visor and gave the fans a handsome grin, causing a chorus of squeals. hawks glanced at one of the fans near him lips curled in a smirk, mouth ready to open and say a few lines that would send arrows straight to the heart when he subconsciously stopped himself.

closing his mouth, he gave her a gentle smile before a soft reply came out, "thank you for supporting me."

it was weird of him to respond to fans in such fashion, but your words were stuck in the back of his head. he wished he could have acted this way before you two broke it off, it would have saved a lot of heartache.

hawks hoped you would notice his change. and unbeknownst to him, you had.

your eyes were glued to the television that aired the news that also happened to feature your ex-boyfriend, hawks. your heart felt fuzzy as you watched him, he seemed different...more down to earth?

"your eyes haven't left the tv since hawks appeared," mirko comments causing you to avert your eyes embarrassed. "i was just interested in the news for today, that's all," you tried but knew mirko wouldn't buy into your lie.

"yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that," she chuckles as she she sits down beside you. "so, whats going on in that head of yours now?"

"he's different now, rumi," you state, eyes drifting back to the screen. "he's talking to his fans like they're fans." your shoulders slump sadly, "i wish he was like this when we were together...i guess he really doesn't care about me after all."

mirko lets out a grunt as she listens to your moping. turning towards her, you notice her adjusting her purple thigh high socks to sit snugly against her upper thighs, "you have patrol this evening?"

"yep, my turn for an evening patrol. they're not that bad, more bad guys come out at night," she jokes with chuckle but you don't find it funny. "i know you can easily beat them, but that doesn't mean i worry any less for you," you sigh. "stay safe please."

"will do, cry baby," she jokes once more causing you to angrily pout, "i'm not a cry baby!" "says the one crying over hawks. bye!" and with that she quickly leaves out the door before you could throw a pillow at her.

rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over toward the bedroom you shared with mirko. you had a nice futon on the floor beside of her bed that surprisingly was very comfy. organizing her room a bit and folding her clothes she tossed around, you tried to busy yourself until she came back.

which was surprisingly short.

you heard the main door swing open before hearing her move around the living room and kitchen. she must've forgotten something, you thought to yourself as you made your way toward the bedroom door you had previously closed behind you.

"rumi? did you forget something?" you ask as you open the door, just to find yourself staring at the stranger in the apartment who donned a black ski mask with some sort of weapon in their hand. unfortunately your voice had caught their attention and their head quickly turned toward you before bolting it down the hallway for you.

screaming, you quickly shut the door and locked it before the thief could get in. the rattle of the doorknob causes you to let out another shriek as you looked around for a way to protect yourself and to escape.

the only solution that came to your mind was to block the door with whatever heavy furniture mirko had on her room which consisted of her bed, a desk and her clothes drawers. you did your best to block the door, but it was proving to be not enough.

"open the door and i won't hurt you miss," the voice called out and you felt your stomach twist from their words.

you scurried around to look for your phone and thankfully found it amongst this chaos and your body went on auto-pilot and dialed the first person that came to your mind whenever you were in danger.

your shaky hand brought your phone to your ear as you ran into the furthest corner of her room. your free hand covering your trembling lips. please pick up.

"hello? (name)?"

"keigo please help me," you cried quietly so the person on the other side couldn't hear you, but the desperation in your voice was clear as day for hawks. "(name)? whats happening? where are you?" his voice was now firm and laced with worry as you began to sob in through the phone.

"i'm at mirko's and she just left for patrol but someone broke in and i hid myself in her room. i'm so scared, please come quick." and right after he heard you squeak in fear from the unidentified noises through your phone.

"i'm coming right now," you could hear the power his wings had as he lift himself into the sky, "does she have any windows you can exit from?" glancing behind you, you took a mental note that her windows were large enough for you to escape through—the only problem was mirko lived on the tenth floor.

squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded even though hawks could not see you, "yeah, but she doesn't have any escape ladders and i'm on the tenth floor." hawks cursed under his breath on the other side, "just hold on, i'm almost there."

clutching onto your phone, you jumped when the barricade you made against the door was getting tossed around from the force of the stranger on the other side trying to break in. scrambling around, you quickly unlocked the window before opening it, allowing the wind to flow in.

with another jolt from the door all of your barricades flew from the door, leaving it vulnerable. you knew the door would fall with his next move, so with trembling hands, you maneuvered your body outside the window, letting your bottom sit on the window frame.

from a distance, you could hear someone calling out your name. when you narrowed your eyes to focus, all of the stress left your body as you watched them shoot towards you. hawks had come to your rescue!

but hawks wasn't close enough.

the door behind you broke allowing the stranger into the room and before they could grab a hold of you, you jumped.

"(name)!"

as your body free fell down towards the earth, hawks used his wings to give himself one strong push forward before folding his wings tightly behind his back to gain speed to reach you.

reaching his arms out, he caught you in time before shooting back up towards the sky, "that was so stupid of you!" you shouted loudly against the wind, "what if i wasn't there in time?"

glancing up at him, you gave him a small smile, "i just knew you'd get to me in time ."

"agh, more paperwork i have to fill out!" mirko groans as she walks around her messy apartment after hawks and her had caught the suspect and had cops take care of him. as she walked away into her bedroom with a line of curses, you quietly turned over towards hawks who had his back facing you. he was on call with the commission.

"yep, i'll get that finished tomorrow," ending his call and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turns around to find you staring at him. his cheeks flush slightly from the sudden eye contact, but he managed to compose himself. "are you doing alright? that must've been quite the terrifying experience."

"yeah, thanks for picking up. you were the first person i thought to call," you confess and he perks up. "oh yeah?"

"you've always kept me safe and i just really needed you when i was in danger. so thanks," giving him a smile he mirrors you. "of course, anything for you."

your heart flutters from his words, but you slightly turn yourself away, glancing down. you two were no longer dating, so there was no need to get butterflies over him again. "well, thanks again. you must have a busy day tomorrow."

"do you buy any chance still have that photo of you when you were out with mirko?" hawks asks suddenly causing you to glance up at him. "you know, when you two went out a couple weeks ago? you were all dolled up and honestly, just super pretty?" hawks says boldly with a sheepish grin.

"why are you asking?"

"send it my way."

you gawked at him, "you want me to send you a picture of me? we're not dating anymore, that would be weird!" hawks could only shrug, "okay, that's simple then. let's go on a date." you gawked even further, "what is going on inside of that bird brain? all this for a photo?"

"i want to be the one who takes those photos of you. i want to be the reason you get all dolled up. i know i messed up, (name). i've been changing the way i talk to my fans because i understand how i hurt you. could you give me another chance to make it better? i promise i will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

this was coming too suddenly, your wounds were just starting to heal.

"you...you don't mean that, hawks," you say dejectedly as you back up to sit on mirko's couch. "i'm scared."

"he means it you know?" mirko pops out of the hallway suddenly and stands with her arms crossed against her chest as she stares at the two of you. "he's been asking me for that picture nonstop since he saw it online."

"but he really does love you still, (name) and i know you still love him too. go ahead and give it another shot, i'll be here to kick him to the curb if he does anything bad to you." she encourages, making you glance back towards hawks.

"promise?" your eyes are sparkly from the tears that had glossed over your eyes and hawks gives you a confident nod, "promise. i'll pick you up at six tomorrow?"

you couldn't help your growing smile, "yeah, i'll be waiting."

- e x t r a -

as hawks flew off towards his apartment, the notification ding of his phone went off causing him to take a look. you had sent him a text!

opening the message his eyes widen from the photo you sent, it was the cute pic of you all dolled up!

"i'm so in love!" he shouts loudly in the sky.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader

672 notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 2 years

Note

57 and 71 with Ransom 🥵

A/N: Wow, you guys really love Ransom, huh? ME TOO!! I adore writing for Ransom because i see so many possibilities, so many aspects of his personality that can be explored outside of what we see in Knives Out. So yeah, i really hope you enjoy this and thank you so much for your patience.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad or Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #57: "I wonder what your boyfriend would do if he knew what you were doing right now”

Prompt #71: "I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Although you’re currently spoken for, that doesn’t stop Ransom from trying his luck. What happens when you fail to resist?

Warning: Smut! Cheating, swearing, ass slapping, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, slight hair pulling, slight angst, cream pie, sir kink, neck biting and kissing and mirror sex. I think that’s about it. If i missed anything, please let me know. 18+ folks. Minors DNI

Word Count: 6,490

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @fairyevans go check them out❤️

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Never in a million years, never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d be lying in bed next to your boyfriend of eight years, crying, crying because of the hurt you’re about to put him through. The pain you’re about to subject him to.

But you have no choice. It’s been a week since you made the mistake of sleeping with another man, of sleeping with Ransom. And guilt has drowned your entire body out, leaving nothing but a broken woman in its wake.

You know it’s something you’ve been meaning to do for a while now, but anxiety cripples you, rendering you speechless as you watch Ryan sleep. He looks so peaceful, so handsome and content. Little does he know, that same peace and contentment will dissipate the moment he wakes up.

Your bags are packed away in the closet, the diamond necklace he gifted you for your anniversary neatly hidden away in the black velvet covered box on the bedside table. You’re ready to leave him, to give him a second chance at happiness.

And although your chest is tight and your heart is breaking into a million pieces, you know this is something you need to do.

To flirt with another man is one thing but to have feelings for said man and sleep with him, well that’s something else entirely.

As much as you try to fight it, the memories of that night flash through your mind like a slow motion movie. Every touch, kiss and lust infused decision remains imbedded into your brain, details you’ll never forget.

Here’s the story of the night you ended your relationship by sleeping with Boston’s own notorious playboy, Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

The winter air is so cold that even your calf length faux fur lined coat is struggling to keep you warm as you step out of your cab and onto the stone filled drive of the Thrombey estate.

Harlan Thrombey, a man of mystery and talent. His books are quite literally what got you to where you are now, an excited new author on the cusp of publishing your first novel.

You decided to really draw inspiration from Harlan and what made his mystery and thriller books so enticing and throw it all into a crazy combination of thriller, mystery and romance. At first, upon pitching your idea to your mentor and close friend Harlan, the famous author wasn’t sure it would work, but after reading a rough draft of the almost finished copy, he changed his mind.

His exact words ‘i think this is something that will grab the audience by the balls’ and so far, reviews from your team have been similar. One can only hope it sells enough once it hits the shelves.

But now comes the reason you’re at Harlans home tonight. Every year he holds a party for his family, friends and colleagues, whilst also inviting young and new voices in the writing world, you know to introduce people such as yourself into the scene.

However, also in attendance tonight is the one and only Ransom Drysdale. Your mentors spoilt grandson. Upon encountering Ransom for the very first time, you can recall specifically telling him to go ad fuck himself. He’s nothing but a trust fund prick whose cockiness makes your blood boil...literally.

Although you quite literally cannot stand him and everything he is, you can’t help but admire his looks, and how dreamy his eyes are, how they could lead you down a path of destruction. You’d find yourself risking it all for those blue orbs if they glanced your way at the right moment in time. But then he speaks, and your hate returns.

So it’s safe to say, you are definitely not looking forward to being in such close proximity to him tonight.

Your boyfriend Ryan couldn’t make it due to having work commitments of his own. He’s a lawyer and his boss Andy Barber is hardly the type to allow him to slack off, especially during a high profile murder case.

Late night arrivals home and going without quality time together is your life right now, and as much as it sucks, the two of you seem to make it work the best that you can. Ryan loves his job, it’s what drew you to him in the first place, watching him in a cafe across town with his colleagues, tucked away in a booth. You remember watching as he was detangling his theories for everyone, they all hung on his every word, as did you and you weren’t even supposed to be eavesdropping.

Eventually he noticed, his eyes meeting yours in the booth next to his, and they just gleamed, pulling you in all the more.

After that day, you were joined at the hip. Day in and day out was spent by his side, kissing him, touching him, fucking him, you were enamoured, obsessed.

As was he.

And this year you celebrated your eight year anniversary. The only things missing now are a dog and a ring of engagement.

But patience is a virtue. And you have a feeling he won’t make you wait much longer now.

The zoo floods your stomach as you entertain the thought of marrying Ryan, he’s the love of your life. Your soulmate. Someone you could never live without.

But suddenly you’re pulled from your happiness and thrusted into hell the second Ransom shoves his way past you, almost causing you to spill your drink down yourself. Jerk isn’t the right word to describe him. No. There’s only one word that suffices just nicely, it begins with C and ends in T.

“Watch it” you snap, moving further away from him whilst casting him your infamous resting bitch face, letting him know you aren’t about to put up with his shit. But as he turns to face you, you forget all thoughts of hate, the gleam in his dreamy blue eyes are the reason you fail to hate him for longer than a few measly seconds.

“Dam Y/N, you actually scrub up pretty nicely” he compliments, stepping closer to you to assess your outfit. You’re wearing a stunning navy blue dress, it’s got a sweetheart neckline and it comes to just above your knees. It’s cinched at the waist to show off your body in the best way possible. Not that you care for showing off, you usually shy away. But tonight was cause for celebration so you thought why not dress up?

“Tell me, sweetheart” his body now pressed up to yours, his chest to your side, his mouth so close to your neck and ear that you feel yourself struggling to keep the shivers of arousal at bay.

“Where is that boyfriend of yours tonight? You look way too good to be out alone” his tone is nothing short of mischievous, alerting you of his lustful intentions.

He glides his ridiculously large hand across yours and then up your forearm to your bicep before gently resting it on your upper back.

“Well?” he presses, his hand urging you to speak as it splays out across the middle of your back, edging closer to your tailbone.

“Well what?” you choke out, sipping your champagne a little to distract yourself, hopefully giving off the illusion that you’re far from flustered.

“Where is Ryan?” he asks, and you’re suddenly snapping out of your aroused state.

“He’s working, something you would know nothing about” you retort, shaking his hand off of you before strutting away in your 6 inch heels. And it can’t hurt to ensure your ass is fully in his eye line as you leave him wanting more.

Ransom has spent the last year alone loitering around you in hopes of cracking you so that you’d finally sleep with him. See, he doesn’t care much for titles, or women that aren’t available. To him, sex is sex. If he wants a woman, he’ll get her. He always does. Women are incapable of resisting his playboy charms.

However, you’ve been the exception, the only exception.

But tonight, he’ll change that. He’s determined.

That look in your eyes, one of mutual sexual attraction, it was so prominent that he’d never allow you to lie about it. He knows you want him, or at least you fantasise about having him. It’s just there’s one obstacle, your devotion to your workaholic boyfriend who never makes the time for you anymore. He can sense your starvation, he can smell it.

You’re in need of a good fucking, someone to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you until your body grows limp and you’re sated with a post orgasm buzz. Ransom can be that guy. You just need to let him be that guy. And no one will have to know, not even Ryan.

God even his name in Ransom’s thoughts makes him roll his eyes.

It’s like he can sense you’re settling, your lack of pleasure is clearly something that bothers you yet you don’t utter a single complaint. You just continue to work yourself to the bone too, in order to keep busy, just enough to cease all thoughts of sex.

It’s like a game of cat and mouse to Ransom, when he wants a woman. And right now, the game is well and truly on and he won’t stop until you’re breathless and satisfied.

He leans against the door frame between the grande foyer and Harlans study, assessing the room, searching even. Searching for you.

And soon enough he spots you, in the corner, surrounded by multiple older men. You look happy, laughing as you exchange tips regarding your writing. Marta, his grandfathers nurse brushes past you quickly and the two of you exchange pleasantries.

You’ve always admired Marta, her work ethic, her infectious smile and loveable personality. She reminds you a lot of your younger sister, hence why the two of you get along so well.

Ransoms tumbler glass rises to meet his succulent and kissable lips, the brown liquid filling it entering his mouth slowly as he takes a bigger sip than usual, his eyes glued to you.

On the off chance that you look his way, he raises his glass, winking before watching as you watch him drink. Your flustered state more than apparent to him, he’s no fool and this certainly isn’t his first rodeo. The tell tale signs of arousal are showing.

Unable to refrain from tracking every little movement your body makes, he finds himself blocking out everyone else. So when Harlan snaps his fingers in his face to catch his attention, he jolts. Only ever so slightly though.

“What are you up to?” Harlan enquires, narrowing his eyes at his grandson as he watches Ransom stare his guests down.

“Trouble as always” his eyes leaving you for no longer than a second as he turns to Harlan, sending a wink his way and alerting him that nothing has changed.

But as his eyes return, you’re not there.

He quickly scans the room again, only to find the back of you. Your ass catching his attention as you climb the stairs to the second floor. So rather than watching, or even gawking, he decides to follow you. No one on the second floor now but you and him. A dangerous duo.

Especially since he’d be right in his assumptions, the assumption that you want him just as much as he wants you.

You close the bathroom door behind you, locking it before sitting down to pee, your eyes glancing around the vintage decor, it’s a good job Harlan is at the age he is, changing the entire decor of the house would be a crying shame. It’s so stunning, you’re incapable of taking your eyes off of it. But when you hear a knock on the door, you jump a little.

“Occupied, i’ll only be a minute” you call out before finishing off and flushing the toilet.

As you wash your hands though, another knock sounds through the room, the knock is so heavy, is someone attempting to break the dam door down? Maybe so.

“I said, just a minute” you call back, drying your hands before unlocking the door.

But instead of squeezing past the impatient party goer, you are met with Ransom as he barges inside before closing and locking the door himself.

“Ransom, what the f-”

His plump pink and delicious lips are on yours before you can even finish your sentence, and what’s worse is that despite one measly attempt to push him off, you find yourself enjoying him, enjoying the way his mouth works yours so effortlessly.

Ryan. Ryan. Ryan

Your subconscious screams, willing you to listen. And it works, being as you push Ransom off as if he disgusts you, this time succeeding.

“Woah, thought i had you for a second there” he smirks, mocking you.

“You’ll never have me. I have a boyfriend” you state, as if that’s supposed to deter him, but if anything it spurs him on more. You wipe your mouth as you attempt to move around him to get to the door. How foolish of you. His broad and rather large frame blocks you before you can.

“Come on, sweetheart. You and i both know that you want me, so what’s the point in pretending. You know this feigned hating game is tiring” he chuckles, stepping closer to close the space you created only seconds ago.

And even if you desperately craved some kind of exit from him, you wouldn’t get one, everything is blocked. You’re backed up now, the bathroom counter hitting your back, ice cold as it makes contact with your skin.

The warmth of his whiskey scented breath spreads across your exposed skin, scattering treacherously, threatening to spin the two of you into a web of trouble.

“Don’t call me that” your voice lacks conviction, but you stand tall or at least attempt to. If you believe it, maybe it’ll show.

“Was that poor attempt made to convince me or yourself? Hm?” his index finger lingers under your chin lazily, barely even grazing your skin while you refrain from keening for more.

Although you’re almost certain that Ransom can see right through you, so what’s the point in keeping up this charade?

“Look at you” you look down at your body but before you can get a look, you’re being spun around, your own pathetic reflection staring right back at you in the bathroom mirror. No guilt in your eyes to suggest you’re about to turn him away as he creeps closer to your neck, his lips about to close on your skin whilst his teeth pierce you softly.

And the moment it occurs, your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands grip at the counter with white knuckle force. Your head rolls to the side like a rag doll as he moves you to gain better access, his sinful and wondering hands wreaking havoc on you. The feelings he’s burdening your body with are feelings Ryan should be making you feel right now.

As your eyes meet his in the mirror and you are met with his signature playboy smirk, you feel yourself crumble all over again.

Why does he have to be so handsome, so dam irresistible?

His one hand steadies your body as the other grips the hem of your best dress, slowly lifting it, something that much to your dismay fills your traitorous body with excitement.

Ransoms breath catches as your pretty ass comes into his view, nothing but a tiny purple laced thong to cover your modesty, barely. A view he can’t help but groan at, guttural.

“Ryan is a very lucky man” the mention of your boyfriend brings you back to earth with a loud and very hard thud as you spin around on your heels, the champagne rushing to your head and causing you to stumble a little.

“Stop it” you snap, holding your hand out in protest to his advances, his very tempting advances.

“Don’t tell me your conscience just paid you a visit?” his sinister and mocking tone and facial expressions, the epitome of the devil on your shoulder. Luring you to him.

He’s right though, your conscience did pay you a visit, one that’s resulting in you contemplating leaving this party earlier than intended. Just to escape the brutal and overpowering sexual tension between the two of you that fizzes and crackles in the air like silent and invisible fireworks.

His hands reach out to grab a hold of your body once again, the needy nature inside of him refusing to let his chances with you slip through his thick digits that easily.

“Tell me, sweetheart. How long has it been since that boyfriend of yours touched you?” his steps are slow, menacing even until before you know it, he’s towering over you, intimidation at its finest.

Meanwhile his hand is dusting over the hem of your dress, lifting it up just as he did a mere few minutes earlier, exposing your panties again.

His voice is raspy, yet smooth as he backs you up to the bathroom counter, enticing you.

It’s getting impossibly hard to resist his womanising ways, the charms that led the many others that came before you to their inevitable fate. At Ransoms feet, his come dripping from their greedy pussy’s.

“Actually don’t answer that, it’s not an answer i don’t already know” his fingers are inching closer to the hem of your panties, teasing you at such a torturous pace that you’re afraid you’ll resort to begging. And since you’re trying to keep a firm hold on your loyalty to Ryan, begging isn’t an option, in fact no extra curricular activities involving Ransom are an option.

You are better than this. You have Ryan, you are happy with him.

You are.

As his fingers dip inside of your panties, you feel your integrity slipping away, your usual pulled together self watching on from a distance as your current intoxicated self allows his fingers to glide over your petals. Almost like astral projection.

A soft yet inviting groan escapes, rolling off of your tongue as you throw your head back in pleasure.

“There she is” his grin can be heard through his speech, a grin to show how smug he is with himself and his ability to lure in yet another woman.

What can he say, he has these skills when it comes to these things.

Your body arches, head remains thrown back as he inches closer to your entrance, index and middle fingers taking the time to figure you out before plunging in. Your hips start to move on their own accord as you silently give your consent for him to do whatever he wishes.

Ryan is now nothing but a distant memory, left to be remembered once the novelty of this moment wares off and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” his body curls over yours, his other arm wrapping around your frame, a vice like grip on you as he gently pulls you up, your head now tilted back to look up at him. Your eyes meet, the intensity of his orbs holding you in place.

You’re incapable of looking elsewhere.

The words you never expected to utter out loud, in fact the words you never expected to utter to Ransom, they are about to escape your mouth. But the way he’s got you dripping with arousal, clenching around nothing as you anticipate the feel of his fingers inside of you, it’s got you throwing caution to the wind.

“I want you” your mouth hangs slack as your breathing grows heavier, his long eyelashes fluttering as his gaze flickers between your eyes to your tempting lips. And judging by the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, he’s debating whether or not to kiss or admire you.

You poke your chin out on purpose in hopes that he’ll give you what you want, what he’s caused you to crave.

“Oh really? What happened to pushing me away, huh?” his fingers still circling your tight hole incessantly.

Boy is he going to revel in your vulnerability, your profound hunger for feeling full, full of him. But for the sake of your guilty conscience you’ll continue to lie to yourself about how he could be any man at this point or even that you’re envisioning Ryan. But the second he grips your chin in his free hand aggressively, forcing your eyes to meet his in the mirror. You’re lie slips away.

Fuck.

You roll your hips again whilst your own tongue pokes out to wet your lips before your teeth sink into your bottom one. Maybe that will do the trick.

He rolls his eyes, pleasure filled impatience as he watches you tease him. His cock hardening all the more, if that’s even possible as it digs into your navel. You just know it’s bothering him, paining him even to keep it hidden away in the tight confines of his boxers and slacks.

It won’t be long now.

His narrowed eyes continue to dance across your face, his brows are furrowed and you’re losing your patience, waiting is not a strong point of yours whatsoever.

“Kiss me” you whisper, barely even audible.

“Needy lil thing, aren’t you?” yet again, mocking.

“Please”

Ryan who?

And just like that his teeth are nipping at your bottom lip ferociously as he pulls you so close to him that you can’t see a single thing in the room but him, so close that you feel him all over you. All you can smell is the scent of scotch on his breath, mingling with the champagne on yours. A heady mix.

Once his teeth pull off, his lips replace them, soothing the marks over with his sinful tongue as it swipes over it gently, the calm before the passionate storm.

Before you know it, you’re battling his tongue for the role of dominant, a war you’ll never win, a war you were always destined to lose when it comes to going up against Ransom.

The two of you continue to go at it like lovestruck teenagers attempting to cram everything in before the return of strict parents. His hands roam your waist before suddenly breaking away, panting in time with you before he spins you around so that your eyes are now meeting his in the bathroom mirror again.

Menacing and harbouring god knows how many mental images of other women in his head, Ransom certainly isn’t short of experiences that would put your sexual past to shame. Something that intimidates you, yet you want the challenge of fighting to be the best of them all.

Despite being attached to another man.

His mouth hovers next to the weak spot on your neck, his eyes still looking into yours, the windows to your soul. His stare is unrelenting and flirtatious, one eyebrow raised as he leans closer, his lips wrapping around your earlobe causing goosebumps to cover you like a second skin entirely, scattered across your body.

He gives your earlobe a little attention before moving his focus to directly underneath it, your gasps allowing him to gather some insight into your weak spots. And as he continues to move lower and lower, the different sounds grow from gasps to whimpers and then eventually moans of high satisfaction.

And bingo, the spot just below your jaw gives him the best reaction, one that makes him want to keep going all night just to hear those pretty sounds of yours. The music he spurs you on to make gives his ego a little bit more than just a boost.

“Ransom” your eyes screw shut as your head lands backwards on his shoulder, his lips and tongue wreaking havoc on your body as his cock presses into your lower back teasingly. His fingers still circling your tight hole, making you wonder if he ever plans to explore your walls.

But just as you start to grind your ass into his crotch, your way of pushing the boat along, his fingers slip in, driving home a little too easily. Thanks to the arousal he drew from your body.

“Yes, sweetheart?” his tone is nothing short of seductive, his words portray a man on his knees willing to do whatever to please you and there’s something so hot about a man at a woman’s disposal.

“Fuck me” your panting should make it impossible for him to understand you, the way your hands are finding purchase on the counter as you grind on his palm every time it collides with your clit when his fingers are knuckle deep.

Desperation isn’t even a suitable enough word for how badly you crave the fucking you know he’s more than capable of giving you. You want this just as much as him, as bad as that seems.

“Beg for it, wanna hear how badly you want my cock”

Is he serious? Clearly so.

Surely your words should be enough. But then again, Ransom is obviously the type to crave ratification and assurance that you want him and you’re not just playing around.

Consent is everything to Ransom, despite his trust fund prick and playboy ways.

His reputation precedes him, everything you’ve heard up until now, all a mix of negative and positive-though the positive rumours don’t come around all too often-so it’s hard to decipher just how many of those are true.

But one thing you do know is that he’s not all bad, or at least not as bad as he’s made out to be.

You can probably be honest here and confess that it’s a huge plus point with Harlan. The way he allows Ransom his freedom and bad spending habits yet he still teaches him right from wrong when possible. And on the occasions where the family talk shit about the playboy, Harlan is always ready to defend him. The majority of the time that is. Harlan once told you that he sees a lot of his younger self in his grandson, unruly behaviour, womanising tendencies and whatnot, and then his defence of Ransom suddenly didn’t seem completely unwarranted.

It’s like he knows exactly how Ransom is feeling and what he’s going through at this stage in his life, so he tries to go a little easier on him whilst also continuing to be that pivotal figure in his life, the one that’s there to support rather than tear him down like his daughter does.

The less you touch on when it comes to Linda, the better.

The woman is nice enough, but she has no clue about parenting.

And that’s enough on her.

“Please fuck me” you murmur, eyes wavering from his until he holds your chin still, his fingers slowing down inside of you, he scissors them deep within, your pussy juices coating them deliciously.

Once your eyes return to his in the mirror, he covers your view by leaning his head around to kiss you, tongues collide, teeth clash, lips move in a rushed yet established rhythm.

“Look at me” his grip on your cheeks grows stronger, vice like, as his head returns to its previous position, his eyes back on yours in the mirror and now you’re gulping as you struggle to maintain eye contact. He intimidates you in the best kind of way.

"I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"

Your eager nature has you nodding your head over enthusiastically, just wishing the time away until his cock is buried balls deeps inside of you and you’re on the receiving end of a fucking you’ve well and truly earnt.

Another rumour about Ransom, one you have no doubts on whether or not it’s true and one you’ve heard way too many times to try and count now, is that sex is his specialty, pleasing a woman whilst also pleasing himself is his talent.

Some people can sing, some people can write, some people can bake, Ransom can fuck.

The thought of finally experiencing his skills causes your mouth to water, your body to shiver and your mind to wonder. It races with all of the things he could do to you right now, and you love that. All possibilities are on the cards, you are now at his disposal.

“Yes, i want it” you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip as you clamp down around his still fingers, and as he withdraws them, lifting them up into the air for you to feast your eyes on, you feel more arousal pool at your entrance.

“So pretty, baby. All your juices covering my fingers” he pokes his tongue out to lick some of it off, humming his appreciation for your taste before dangling them in front of your flustered self, like candy.

“You taste just as good as you look, actually no, you taste better”

That’s all you needed to take them into your own mouth, wanting a taste of yourself too, the jealousy of the satisfaction inflicted on him was too much.

“Mhmm” your hummed agreement as you suck everything from his fingers, no drop wasted.

He rips his fingers free before wrapping his hand around your neck snugly, his mouth now on yours in a heated kiss. The two of you sharing your taste.

Tongues exploring again, your hand roaming behind you and cupping his size, getting more than just a handful.

“Mhmm, i wonder what your boyfriend would do if he knew what you were doing right now” his smug voice fails to alert you of your current commitment to Ryan, or better yet, it fails to make you feel an ounce of guilt. You’re saving the self hatred for later, that’s your just deserts.

The clink of his belt as he uses one hand to undo it slipping his slacks down along with his boxers, it echoes in the room, the silence allowing your nerves and excitement to reach new heights and the moment you reach your hand back to wrap around him, your eyes grow wide.

He’s bigger than you expected, but then again, you have no clue what you expected really.

His large hands tug on your panties, slipping them to the side before his bulbous head rests patiently at the entrance. He smacks it on your exposed hole twice, knocking before entering.

You eagerly push back against him, not wanting to wait another second without him inside you.

“Someone’s needy” he chuckles, mocking you, yet the way his hands splay across your ass, spreading it apart as your arousal assists him, pulling him inside, says he’s far from mocking.

The breath he sucks in as your entrance catches around him, the view so pretty to him that he cannot take his eyes away. He nudges you forward, causing your elbows to rest on the counter as he eases himself inside.

Your heart racing as you feel the delicious stretch, your pussy accommodating to fit him inside just about.

“Oh god” your guttural moans escape before Ransom reaches around to cover your mouth, as unashamed as he is about the type of person he is, the last thing he wants for you is for his grandfather to find out. Especially since Harlan has met Ryan.

You’d also hate for him to think any less of you and question your morals.

Although they are questionable. Very much so.

The moment he’s seated to the hilt inside of you, you press your hand to your navel, swearing that you can feel him there. So full, so content, so right that it should be wrong.

This will surely haunt you until you confess to Ryan, laying your sins out for him.

“God can’t save you now, sweetheart” his smirk catches your attention in the mirror as he bends you over a little more, your face inches from the mirror. His hand scooping up a handful of your hair and pulling lightly, the burn on your scalp mixing with the pleasure of his cock as he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, it makes you forget the pain he’s inflicting on your head.

Moan after moan, panting, skin slapping against skin, all of it echoes in the room, bouncing off the vintage walls.

The pace is relentless, animalistic, he barely waited a minute before he started to destroy your pussy, rearranging your guts to please himself.

Your eyes watch as he grips at your ass, keeping those cheeks spread as his jaw hangs slack, occasionally biting his bottom lip and rolling his eyes back in pleasure.

Now that you’re left to mute yourself, you have no clue how you’re going to keep shtum.

This feels too good, so sinful yet beautiful.

“S’tight, feels so fucking good” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.

As much as Ransom is dying to be buried inside of you for as long as humanly possible, he knows it’s in his best interest to make this as quick as possible now, seeing as the foreplay took longer than he intended. He just couldn’t help but take his time, teasing you and making you beg for it was one hundred percent worth it.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart, gonna come huh?”

His eyes look over to meet yours, mascara barely holding onto your lashes without running as you refrain from crying tears of pleasure, proof of the pure ecstasy he’s dousing your body in.

“Yes” you just about manage, struggling to keep your legs from giving way as they shake at your impending orgasm, your heels wobbling on the floor pathetically.

“Beg to come” he growls, curling his own body over yours as he lands two hard smacks onto your ass cheeks, his eyes not leaving yours. Your body is shivering.

The rumours are most definitely true. No doubt about that.

“Please let me come, Ra-”

“Uh-uh. What’s my name, baby?”

His eyes hold the answer.

“Please let me come, sir”

The content smile on his face alerts you of his approval as he smacks your ass again whilst pounding into you over and over.

He snakes his arm around your delicate frame, lifting you up, despite your obvious struggle to remain standing.

Once your upright a little, his mouth appears next to your ear, his whispers of “come for me, now” spur you on. Your spiritual body falling off of that cliff edge whilst dragging him down with you as his cock twitches deep inside of you.

The reminder of his lack of protection comes as his hot spurts of ejaculate fill you up, something that you should have been on top of but at the same time, you’re sated state could care less. Besides, you’re on the pill, what’s a little bit of Drysdale come going to do?

He shudders as he slows his pace down, his face contorting as he keeps his loud groans and growls in for your own sake. His gentlemanly side showing.

As he pulls out, you stand there gobsmacked at the nature of what you just did, the activity you just partook in with a man you usually hate. Well, you hate his actions and personality, his looks you admire.

He starts to re dress, leaving you with his come dripping down your legs, a sight that could easily have him ready to go again.

“Everything okay?” he asks, attempting to care, but then again, maybe he does. Just maybe.

“I just cheated on Ryan” the enormity of it hitting your body full force, a force that knocks the wind from your lungs, leaving you panting and struggling to breathe.

He catches your sad expression in the mirror, the internal battle he’s having with himself on whether or not he should comfort you or leave, it’s a hard one. He can’t decide. But before he does, you pull your panties up and turn to face him.

“You don’t have to stay. I chose to do this, and i will deal with the consequences of my actions” your tone neutral, giving him no insight into what you’re going to do next. Your words suggest confessing but given your commitment to Ryan, Ransom can’t ever imagine you destroying it.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, i’m just going to clean up here and then i think it’s best if i go home”

His nod of agreement as his face goes blank, unreadable.

“For what it’s worth, i enjoyed myself. And i know you have a boyfriend but i’d like to think you did too” his tone remaining neutral too, less of the cockiness he’s so well known for.

“I did, that’s the worst part. Anyways, you don’t have to listen to my self pity, you best get back before Harlan comes searching for you” your suggestion is successful as he leaves the room once his slacks are zipped and buttoned up and his belt is tight around his waist.

No more words uttered.

The memories finish flashing through your mind as you lay in bed next to Ryan, you don’t plan on sleeping tonight. It’s 2:00am and you’re being kept awake by the replay of last week, it haunts you nightly, your brains way of forcing you to tell him the truth. Something that he deserves, so who would you be to keep it from him?

All you can do is brace yourself for the storm once the morning light shines into the room you share with him.

God can’t save you now.

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

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warmau · 3 years

Text

☆: bounty hunter! you x thief! minghao au tw: ment of violence/weapons | this was in my drafts so i decided to finish it

“there’s no way in the world any of you are going to catch him, but if you do -”

the head of the police, hong joshua, stands tall and straight behind the podium

the gold of his medals shines harshly under the white light of the town courthouse

and your mind wanders off as you think about the pretty penny you could get if you were to just happen upon stealing one of those medals....not that a bounty hunter should ever steal

“but if you do, the police will wipe your own felonious records clean and even offer a good amount of monetary compensation.”

that perks your interest, since you’re currently looking for some extra cash

plus being a bounty hunter isn’t a so called ‘clean’ job - you have stains on your record you’d like to see get erased.

and you know mr. hong doesn’t like you all that much so having him be the one clean up for you is sickly satisfying to some part of your psyche

you’ve been working in this shitty underground world for too long

someone’s voice comes from the back of the interrogation room and you don’t even have to look to know that it’s that newbie seokmin

all excited and bouncy and not-yet-dead-and-cold-inside like the rest of the people around you

“who is the criminal we’re chasing?”

the monitor on the rolled up caddy beside the policeman flickers on

“xu minghao. he’s a notorious thief in the city, responsible for the last string of high art robberies from the homes and personal collections of the elite.”

you snort, the ‘elite’, being rich makes you some kind of level above human now doesn’t it?

“his latest victims are the choi family, he stole not only paintings but some jewelry as well - possibly high end watches and the sort.”

“choi family?”

god this new kid knows nothing

“choi seungcheol’s family” you say with a yawn “you know, the choi seungcheol - the mayor.”

seokmin gasps and you finally look at him.

he’s got a build to him that probably helps with physical altercations but he gives off the vibe that he’d faint at the sight of blood

“exactly.”

joshua shoots a pointed look at you and you kind of dance around in the disgust

“which is why we are going out on a limb and asking for the bounty hunters to help. the choi family desperately wants these pieces returned to them.”

you look at minghao’s face on the screen, it’s obviously not a mugshot so you note that the police force has actually never caught him

it’s a kind of photo that looks like it has been pulled off a social media account

minghao is standing in some sort of white room, he’s tilting his head and looking at the camera - or maybe the person holding it - and one of his eyes has a piercing blue colored contact in it

his features are angular, sharp, and long - but they fit together to make an unusually handsome kind of face

you slide forward in your chair and take your own phone out to snap a picture of the monitor

“how much for him?”

another voice echoes somewhere from the corner

joshua’s straight-faced expression twitches like he’s trying to believe the number that comes out of his mouth.

“ten million”

you keep counting the zeros in your head as you push your keys into your motorcycle and adjust yourself on the seat

you could retire with that kind of money. you live a frugal existence as it is.

you know that minghao is probably also somewhere in the city, still plotting for his next job.

he’s been hitting rich people’s houses for two months straight and the choi’s are a victory, for sure, but they’re still not the biggest shark in the ocean.

the people who sponsor them, the people who made seungcheol mayor, minghao has to be going for them next

you make a list of the three family names that come to mind, luckily enough you also know someone who works in the business of ‘technology’ or so who can help you track down the lead forming in your head

you look one last time at the picture of minghao on your phone before you slip it into your jacket pocket and pull out of the parking lot

“how much?”

“stick-up-his-ass hong said ten million, the choi’s really want there watches and monet’s back.”

jihoon turns to you with a deadpan expression

“you know monet’s can go up to ten times that amount right?”

you shrug and shove a half eaten bar of candy in your mouth that you stole from a bowl by his computer

“i don’t know, i didn’t go to college for art history. anyway, can you help?”

“how much of your cut will i get.”

you lick your lips and think for a second

“if i get him alive i’ll cut you in thirty percent. if he’s dead, ten.”

jihoon taps his foot and adjusts the glasses on his nose, he told you once they’re for the blue light or whatever that come out of his six computers.

“deal.”

you come over and see him open up the page of one of the most expensive and professional art dealers in this city, jihoon mentions that this person is in charge of the buying accounts for all of the three families you mentioned

he also happens to manage the choi’s, so looking into him could lead to possible other leads for the three targets you have in mind

“if minghao is planning to rob them - he needs to know what pieces to take. he’s probably also tracking down what they’re currently thinking about buying.”

“yeah, and im gonna assume - you know, bounty hunters intuition or whatever, that he’s going to hit whichever family recently bought the most expensive piece.”

jihoon’s fingers type faster than your eyes can follow. he doesn’t even seem to move his face, just his pupils and then a bunch of screens are popping up everywhere

you had befriended him on an assignment to catch a hacker - not jihoon, although he’s actually got a price on his head too - but another hacker who was clambering up jihoon’s business

you watch as jihoon does his magic, and then in about ten or so minutes you have an answer

“one of the family’s just bought and received a vase from this guy, it won its auction at around twenty five million. it’s from the ming dyn-”

“which family?”

you don’t care if they got a vase, a sofa, a painting, or a gold and diamond encased piece of potato - something in your stomach told you that whoever just spent the most was on minghao’s radar and minghao was on yours

jihoon adjusts his glasses

“that would be ... oh, that would be the yoon family.”

you taste something iron on the tip of your tongue, yoon jeonghan was on the cover of last month’s vogue if you remember correctly

“got it. thanks.”

you shrug your jacket back on and jihoon spins around in his chair when you get to the door of his dark apartment

“remember, thirty if he’s alive!”

“and ten if he’s not!”

you don’t like the fact that this new kid, seokmin, is standing outside the giant gates of the yoon family mansion

he’s wearing a cut off white t-shirt and new balances for christs sake

“hey!” he looks like he’s seen the sun when he spots you sort of loitering nearby, you try to ignore him but he’s coming over

“hi.”

“staking out the yoon’s? my first impression was they’d be minghao’s next targets because they’re rich and like art too.”

you wonder how he knows that so you ask, half expecting he might actually tell you - which would be a stupid thing to do.

he does.

“oh! i mean their son is a designer, they must be the best people to steal from.”

that’s so fucking ridiculous but he’s actually right. going to tell jihoon im cutting his share in half since apparently his intel could have been free.

“uhuh. well good luck.”

the words are stale when you say them, but sparkling eyes seokmin takes them to heart with a gracious “you too!”

you actually didn’t come to stake them out - you came to see if minghao might be staking them out

no good thief actually just bursts into someone's home, they need to know every nook and cranny of a place if they want to get out clean

judging by minghao’s track record, you can tell he’s cautious and detailed

you circle the house at a safe distance and then head back home, you read a bunch of articles on minghao’s past crimes and eat the only thing you have in your fridge which is mint ice cream - it was left there by a late night hook up who’d doordashed 7/11 even when you told them not to

you do some other minor research on smaller bounties you could chase after minghao is caught, none are interesting or any where near the price of minghao’s

you lay down and the stray you recently started letting crawl through the fire escape makes a little fuzzy circle at the base of your feet

you look at your phone, look at the photo of minghao

wonder if he’s as detailed orientated in other things aside from stealing. looks like he’d know what to do with his hands.

you fall asleep with the phone on your chest.

the next day, you’re texting jihoon about the seokmin thing - he tells you to piss off and not even think about downing his cut or he’ll leak your social security on the internet

that’s so fucked up dude

you’re a shit bounty hunter and im a hermit hacker we aren’t good people anyway

fine, are the yoon’s buying any other vases or whatever

actually, they won an auction a month ago for some ceramics. heard they’re coming tomorrow.

oh, might be a good time to steal that vase and some extra trinkets too for our thief

look how ugly these things are tho

jihoon sends you a photo pulled from the auctioning website, they are ugly, but they’re expensive

you rub your temple and decide that’s enough for today, you don’t see seokmin around either

seungcheol’s generic smiling im-a-good-mayor-and-i-kiss-babies face is grainy on your tv

you eat the takeout you picked up on the way back and are only mildly surprised when you notice someone familiar in the crowd

this is old footage, from a rally he did before the crime

your eyes pan to the corner and pull out one person from the sea of faces, everyone looks so excited to see seungcheol, minghao stands staunch and unwavering in the moving bodies

he’s not grinning - he’s kind of half smirking from what you can tell

he really does his research, i kind of like him

you put the chopsticks into your mouth, yeah. i think he’s going to be a fun one to catch.

goddamn seokmin is here again - on the night the drop shipment of the ceramics is scheduled - you tell yourself you were a clown for believing all that ‘i just thought they’d be the right family!’ bullshit he was telling you about

he probably has an informant of his own, definitely not jihoon though. seokmin is the type jihoon would rather drive a usb through his head than ever cooperate with

you avoid him the second you see his strong shilloute and make your way to the otherside of the house, right on the outskirts of the back garden

there’s one person in it - none of the immediate yoon family you can recognize, probably just a worker

you know there’s three entrances from here - the garden doors, the side opening that leads to an underground washing room, and there’s also a way to get into the back of the kitchen

you are betting that either one of them might be a good choice for minghao, but you put your bet on the washing room - it has stairs that lead up into a spare bedroom which is adjacent to a gallery type room inside of the huge mansion

it’s where the family will probably put the items, rich people love to be all like “look at my room of expensive things you don’t get to touch”

you stick your tongue out to yourself, morally you don’t care about thievery. especially when it’s stolen art stolen from people who just want it to feel superior to others

but minghao is worth ten million, that’s why im taking the higher ground on this ‘crime’

bounty hunters are allowed to carry guns, but you’ve never liked them - you like to use mace instead

that being said, you’ve brought your gun along - unloaded - just to use a scare tactic if push comes to shove. it’s heavy and it reminds you constantly of the job you came to do.

no getting distracted by newbie muscle heads or how hot you’re coming to think minghao is

you hear something - eyes darting to behind one of the columns of a large gazebo in the garden

you swear you see something slink across as the only person in the garden gets up to head back inside

keeping your movements and noise to a minimum, you position your body for a better view and after what seems like two heartbeats you see him dart from the enclosure and toward the mansion

you don’t follow immediately, the only way you’re going to catch someone who is so elusive is if you one up him

you have the element of surprise, but not really, he might be expecting personal guards of the yoon household or the police

not a rogue bounty hunter with a can of mace

but he’s still expecting - and someone whose entire job is to be like a shadow - you’ve got to be careful

you wait the amount of time you deem appropriate and then do the same, you realize when you slip through the backdoor of the washroom that now you’re also committing a crime of breaking and entering

you’re sure the yoon’s won’t mind though - you are about to make sure their ceramics and vases don’t get stolen

plus, you checked up on all of them, the main family shouldn’t be home. the only people on premises are some cleaners and the gardener. you’re sure minghao knows that too.

you map out the house in your mind from what you’ve learned in the past couple of days and find the gallery with ease

you can see the large double doors are open just enough for a person to slip through

so he’s already in ther-

“HEY YOU! YOU BETTER STOP!”

your eyes widen and you push inside to see what’s going on

seokmin, flashing something in his right hand and holding a light in the other is pointing at the long, lean figure of minghao

he’s standing there in the circle of light holding the vase you and jihoon had been looking at before

his eyes are unimpressed when they settle on seokmin

“ok, ive stopped - now what are you going to do?”

“im going to arrest you and bring you to the poli-”

the vase that’s held professionally between both his arms then gets dropped and crashes to the floor

the crescendo of noise startles seokmin because it’s the one thing all these new kids who want to try this kind of work get wrong

the thief is never going to drop the valuable goods - except they are, getting caught is worse then anything else.

there will always be shit to steal - except you know if you’re in jail.

minghao beelines for the doors and you’re there, big grin and mace in hands

“hi!”

his eyes widden and you tackle him with ease, one hand bent behind his back as you make sure to keep your weight off him

“ugh, that big idiot had a partner?”

“he’s not my partner, by the way that vase is worth more than what im getting for your head.”

minghao shifts his cheek against the hard floor of the gallery and he’s smiling back up at you

“how much for me?”

“choi’s but ten million.”

he makes a pfft sound as he releases air from between his lips

“cheap as fuck.”

seokmin tries to bound over to help once he comes to, but you bite at him to back off. this is your win.

he says he can drive you and minghao to the station, but you tell him again that you’ve got this on your own

you kind of feel bad about how flustered he is and you tell him he can still brag about how you two were the only people with sense to look at the yoon’s

for some reason, that actually brightens him up. he leaves to go downstairs and you don’t know if he sticks around or goes off on another job.

you get the handcuffs on minghao’s wrists before the workers, who hear the noise come running up in terror

you flash your bounty id and they scramble to get a hold of the local police office

minghao sits up against the wall and you sit directly in front of him - you can see him better with the lights on

his dark hair is long in the back and messy, his eyes are brown and long and twinkle when you look into them

the bottom corners are highlighted by what you can’t tell if is sweat or glitter

“you’re different”

he starts and you put up a finger

“im not different, im just experienced.”

“you like money more than you like your morals.”

you put the finger down and gleam at him

“bingo”

“so why are you sitting here waiting to hand me over for some chump change like ten million dollars when you and i are inches away from a collection that’s worth close to a hundred million?”

you touch the holster on your hip and tilt your head

“we - even the two of us - wouldn’t be able to steal everything in there. we’d need a whole team and-”

you start as minghao open’s his mouth to counter. all his teeth are white and straight.

“and if we could, you’d backstab me and take it all and run because you just said it yourself. money over morals.”

“ive got morals when im dealing with the right people.”

the snort you let out is louder than you expect and it makes minghao cock an eyebrow

“don’t care, you’re a professional liar. plus hong said he’d clear our records and get us that money.”

“joshua hong works for choi seungcheol who is a bigger liar than i am and you know it.”

there’s real spite in the way he says it - you assume he’s probably had interactions with both. or he’s just grown up in this city like you have, all the trouble politics can cause - all the stupid, underhanded shit that goes on

he leans a little forward

“plus, you’re hot. usually anyone who manages to catch me is very gruff and very mean.”

“i am gruff and mean, don’t test me.”

you banter but then look around and the gardener who was supposed to stay up here with you and minghao has turned his attention elsewhere - normal people don’t like facing criminals and well...whatever category bounty hunters are in.

“what’s the most expensive thing in that room.”

you ask under your breath suddenly, the police won’t be here for another five minutes at least.

you text jihoon to tap into their comms and let you know the exact moment they’re at the door.

minghao shines that grin, slender fingers lift up and toward the door

“i broke it, but that place is jammed of other million dollar treasures. i saw an original signac that could score us close to 17 million.”

“a signac? who is that?”

minghao laughs with his hands still behind him

“so you’re hot but not into art, i can still work with that. he’s an artist, paul signac. the yoon’s own ‘la corne d'or.’”

you shrug your shoulders again and pretend you don’t hear the first part but mutter that art doesn’t make sense to you and minghao lets out another quieter laugh

“it’s a painting of boats but it looks psychedelic almost, super colorful. thirty six or so inches across.”

you think to yourself - one painting and it’s 17 million, what if you get another painting with it

“ok...anything else in there catch your eye?”

minghao wiggles a little

“lots, i know art like people know starbucks orders. very well.”

your phone pings and it’s jihoon’s warning. the police are going to be coming upstairs to take minghao off your hands in the next sixty to ninety seconds.

“i can’t trust you.”

he thins his lips and then taps your foot with his own, does a weird jostle of his body and then to your shock breaks out of his handcuffs with ease

he rubs his wrists as you think you hear some noise downstairs and the gardener jumps out of his seat to go greet the police without noticing the thing that just happened only a feet away from him

“i’ve had a bobby pin this whole time, i could have run away five whole minutes ago instead of giving you a history lesson on boat paintings worth more money than you’ve ever dreamt of.”

you don’t miss a beat

“let’s get the fucking boats then.”

you get up and minghao takes a hold of your hand in a way you haven’t experienced since maybe middle school

like when a beloved childhood friend would take you and lead you toward the playground, giggle about school or your parents, pull you in to a fun moment under the basking sun

you and him stand, hand in hand, in front of the painting he mentioned

it’s pretty, it almost looks like it was drawn by crayons, you wonder why it’s so expensive

“let’s take it and the two sketches over there, one’s a lady with a piano the other is a couple under an umbrella

“are they-”

“at least two million each. plus - we can comeback for the ceramics later.”

you don’t know why it makes you feel warm - but it does and you take the two framed sketches off the wall

the painting is large, but minghao has done this enough times before that he knows how to handle it - you two are out the hall and down the stairs by the time you hear the police shuffling up them

took their time thinking he’d just be sitting up there wrapped up like a present huh?

you think to yourself, minghao is quick on his feet and leads you in the direction of a inconspicuous looking tiny car that could seat you, him and maybe that stray that hangs around your apartment

he opens the back and it is a perfect size for the painting

“did you come here on your bike?”

you realize the whole look of you must give away the fact that you ride one

“never, i dont bring it on jobs because people know what it looks like.”

he tips his fingers toward you in acknowledgement

“good because this car isn’t mine either, so add auto theft to the list of crimes you’re committing with me on this first date.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, can’t tell if he’s joking or not

he hits the gas before there’s any movement on the street where it’s parked - the yoon mansion fades into the distance as he rushes into the evening traffic

“is this the part where you kick me to the curb?”

you ask

minghao takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on your thigh

“this is the part where you tell me where you live so we can go get your things and ride off into the sunset, bonnie.”

you laugh

“so you’re clyde?”

he looks at you at a red light - looks at your lips and then your eyes

“do you want me to be?”

you can decide the answer to that yourself

*if you’re interested here is la corne d’or on the sothebys website.

#listen idk what this is really but im worldbuilding a lot arent i #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #minghao au #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #the8 au #the8 scenarios #the8 imagines #the8 #minghao #seventeen #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #violence/ weapons/

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jjackrabbitt · 2 years

Note

Hey it’s no problem!!! I feel u on writing feeling difficult rn (I’m in a slump with a million ideas rattling in my brain and a draft of a fic ive been working on since summer of 2020 😭) — hmmmmmmmmmm ig to start off: hcs that you’re inserting into miss peregrine and all her kiddos! Idk if this would be spoiling any surprises in ur au, but I recall a post u reblogged that talked abt an evil!miss peregrine and u tagged it as a part of the damned au (and added a little cheeky >:) to it too)

>:) let’s see

Alma:

She’s still a good person to her kids in this au. But! I think the ymbrynnes in general are shady and have probably all made some morally reprehensible political decisions. I think that she still sees herself as a good person, but sometimes she stays up at night thinking of the secrets that she keeps for the Council.

She’s much more of a mum to her kids than a beloved headmistress this time, she may call them Miss Bruntley and Mr O’Connor in public, but in private every kid is called by their first name or even nicknames!

I think Myron and Jack know that she considers the kids to be her kids and they take full advantage of that. Also none of this bull about “Emma and Jacob not knowing who Myron was at first”. They heard the name Bentham and knew where they were.

I think Alma and Myron kept correspondence on and off over the years. Myron would write and say he was really reforming this time blah blah blah, and Alma would write him back (she never exactly gave up on him, just got more sarcastic about it as time went on). And then he’d say something to fuck it up and they’d stop talking. Over. And over. And over. Like, at least 15 times. That, or Jack would find out Myron and Alma were speaking again and burn all the letters (or worse) and Myron would have to stop writing for a while, until it was safe again.

Emma:

First of all, she’s Jewish. She spells her name Blum, it’s pronounced the same as Bloom.

She’s the first kid Miss Peregrine ever had and they are extremely close. That Is Her Mama.

When Emma was little, Alma didn’t have her house yet, she had an apartment in Liverpool and that was the first place Emma felt safe in after her parents house.

Emma was a very serious child and would sit Alma down at their dinner table and have “talks” with her. One time it was to find out if Alma was her mum now and the answer was yes and Emma stood up in her chair and shouted her excitement. In the heat of the moment she also singed the table, but it was a small thing and didn’t matter.

Hugh:

Hugh is the second kid Alma got!

He’s also Jewish

She found him when he was 10 and Emma was 8. Emma had already been with Alma a year and was very apprehensive about Hugh joining them, but everyone likes Hugh, so she got over it soon and quickly referred to him as her brother, so Alma knew that Emma wanted him to stay.

Like I said, everyone likes Hugh, he’s got country boy manners and he’s witty and friendly.

He grew up on a farm and was actually the youngest kid, so being Emma’s older brother was quite the turn of events

He’s got a gap in his two front teeth and he says it’s beautific and charming

He also uses it to spit, ya know, like when you’re a kid and you spit water at people from between your teeth? He still does that. Enoch says something rude at the table and while Alma isn’t looking Hugh squirts Enoch with his water from across the table. It’s one of the few things he’ll do that’s not polite.

The other non polite things he does is punching people, weaponising his bees, and cussing. Hugh Says Fuck 2k22.

Victor:

You know I’m going on order of when Alma got the kids, right? Vic and Wyn were her third kids

Victor was a goofball and it got him in sooo much trouble. Especially with their father. It was Victor that Bronwyn was protecting.

Because i don’t listen to Riggs, I’m choosing to ignore his comments about the Bruntley siblings being “dumb”. They’re not dumb, they’re just autistic and don’t hide it. I’m projecting.

Vic and Wyn were best friends to each other. they didn’t have to watch their strength around each other, they understood one another, they shared everything.

Was really good with the younger kids, he was good at getting on their level

Enoch genuinely liked him, Victor was never upset by anything Enoch did and would even match Enoch in saying weird shit. If Enoch showed up and told him how possums worked, Victor’s response was basically “cool, did you know you can cut a hole in a cow’s side and watch their stomachs digest things?? The cow will be fine.”

Bronwyn:

Unlike Victor, Wyn does get upset about some things because she has a set of Rules that she isn’t comfortable with deviation from. It’s a mostly harmless system and the kids understand it.

She’s going to understand sarcasm this time!! She’s just very bad at using it and we get to see her test it out with Jacob and the other kids and do a little trial and error

She’s bad at using sarcasm, partially because the kids and Alma are too used to it and just let her be use it in her own way because they just Understand what she’s saying. So Jacob does think she’s a little mean at first until he gets it and returns the favour and then they’re friends :) they’re both brainweird and they stick together

The kids and Alma are her Safe People, she trusts them and they don’t deplete her social energy and she feels okay not masking around them. She loves them very much.

Likes to have collections of things and will stop everything so she can pick up a rock

Fiona:

Fiona is gonna be there at the end, when they’re finally defeating Jack. She was part of his resurrection and deserves to be there for his end. Also I want her to see Abaton and go “this needs plants” and grow some ground cover for it

Also! Fiona gets a bigger part in general! She gets to do more things and inform on Jack and Percy and go with the kids to do things! She gets more action!

She’s not some soft little waif, she’s covered in mud and she is going to tackle you.

She likes animals too! She’s specifically learned how to grow her plants to be more beneficial to her animals! Hugh helps her :)

Millard:

Millard is Jewish and that’s a fact

I think that Millard likes to chew on things (pencils, the inside of his mouth, bits of paper,etc.), especially while he’s thinking

It’s the autism 😌

Helps get Lilly and Ricky up to speed on all the peculiar things, so they can help the kids from outside the loops

Doesn’t know shit about telephones but damn if he’s not about to learn everything about them so he can call Lilly and make a phone that can call her from Devil’s Acre

Millard was adopted when he was 11 and Emma was 10 1/2. They quickly became best friends and got into everything together

Horace:

I feel bad, I don’t feel like I’ve got much for Horace, but he’s already a super good character and there’s not a lot about him that I think needs changing?

Actually, I think he gets more neurotic as the series goes on. I think he has more dreams that he genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of, but he knows something bad is coming and he’s afraid it’s around every corner.

I also think that he and Enoch should genuinely be friends. They’re still really antagonistic towards each other, but in a friendlier way

Also Julius is 11 now. Fuck Riggs.

Enoch:

Enoch is Irish-Jewish! He’s an eyer-ishman! (Eyer is egg in yiddish)

I want him to actually get along with Claire and Olive some times. Those are his little sisters and he can be antagonistic towards them, but he also makes them dolls that move and plays with them!

If you can’t tell, I just want Enoch to have some positive relationships. I want him to not be lonely and feeling bad and weird about his peculiarity. I want him to know he’s a valued part of the kids group and they don’t look down on him.

I think there should be a necromancer’s guild in Devil’s Acre, it just seems like there should be one. I think Alma encourages Enoch to join them and learn more about his peculiarity, because she knows he has a complicated relationship with it. And I think he does join! And he loves it! He goes around telling his siblings all the fun things he learns while he’s there and what interesting things were said.

Olive begs to be allowed to go with him some times, she thinks it’s So Cool just based off what he’s told her. She doesn’t get to go.

Like I said in one of my other posts, Alma was the one who taught Enoch a lot of what he knows. She has several medical degrees and plenty of experience, so she’s well equipped to help him with it. They have fun and it’s their bonding time.

Claire:

I think Claire and Horace get along really well, they’re both very fancy and persnickety. They have thee snootiest little tea parties together.

If one doesn’t want to do something, the other will swoop in to say they’re needed elsewhere to do literally anything other than what they’re being asked to do.

Unlike Olive, Claire Does Not like mud.

Very good at running backward so she can get you with her backmouth.

Also. I have just decided this. She’s also autism and depending on her mood, energy level, and if she’s comfortable, she’ll repeat sounds/sentences. Sometimes her backmouth does it too, but she tries not to use that one.

Olive:

Olive loooooves Fiona, Fiona’s her big sister and makes her feel important because she has Olive help her with gardening

Besides Hugh, Olive is the one Fiona talked to most

Olive really really likes drawing and doing acrobatics and wrangles the other kids into both activities with her.

I think Olive should get to maul at least one wight. They’ve ruined so much for her and she should get to do something about it. I trust her.

Jacob:

Baby boy. Baby. I’m kissin’ his forehead and putting him in a doll bed with fluffy covers like I’m an eight year old girl and he’s a cat.

He’s autism too. Have you seen this kid? He’s autism. I can smell it on him.

I think he and Ricky used to have contests for who could find the weirder/more obscure songs and honestly? Jacob’s music taste got weird as hell from it, the boy likes some surprising things.

I think his parents Do Not like his room. It’s not fancy and normal enough for his mum and it kind of reminds his dad how much closer Jacob was with Abe than Frank was. But Jacob loves it and it’s his room so his parents don’t say anything but his mum tries to foist more “appropriate” room accessories upon him some times.

Ricky, on the other hand, thinks Jacob’s room is impressive and comfy and is the only place in Jacob’s house that he doesn’t feel weird in. Ricky brings Jacob things to add to his collection of tchotchkes.

Noor:

MY DARLING NOOR ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Had to put her Queer Crisis Time on hold to go save the world, but after she’s done with that she decides she’s nonbinary.

Noor and Lilly are girlfriends. They’re dating and in love. Lesbiabs.

I really really really do not think that Noor would want to stay in a loop after everything’s said and done. She already expressed how she’d like to go explore other loops and places in the world and see things and I just don’t think she’d want to settle down so quick. She knows there’s things out there for her to go explore! She wants to see them!

So that brings me to Horatio. I think a lot of the peculiars are wary of him, being a a wight and all, so he doesn’t really want to stick around. However! As @finn-nito has proposed, wights get really attached to the first person they see and kinda,,imprint on them. Noor’s the first person Horatio saw. That’s His Kid Now.

So Noor’s allowed to go off and explore, with Horatio as chaperone and they have a hot girl summer year where Horatio learns how to be a person again and Noor learns how to be an adult. They get along real well, so they goof off a lot and cause ruckuses. The Ymbrynne Council expected Horatio to keep Noor out of trouble and boy howdy is he not doing that. For one, Horatio thinks trespassing is okay (it is and you should do it) and he helps Noor break and enter so she can go draw things or take pictures in weird places.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Five

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, handcuffs, thigh fucking, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, vibrators, dirty talk, dom spencer

word count: 4.6K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays

Chapter Five | Masterlist

He’s ripped from a peaceful slumber by his work phone ringing on the night table. Y/N asleep on his chest, he tries to reach for it without waking her, successfully he answers with a groggy whisper, “hello?”

“Morning sleepy head?” Emily laughs, “it’s 10 am, Reid, why are you whispering?”

“I’m with my girlfriend, she’s still asleep,” he realizes he’s never told the team flat out that he was seeing someone, they all guessed but none of them had really asked.

“Oh,” Emily seems just as shocked that he said it. “We have a local case, I need you here for the geo profile and then you can go back to your mandated break.”

“I’ll be in, in 30,” he replies before hanging up.

“Can I come?” She whispers against him, obviously awake from all the commotion.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “if you don’t mind seeing and hearing about whatever horrific thing happened this time.”

“I don’t,” she sits up and stretches, “come on Mulder, we’ve got a case to crack.”

He laughs, “sure thing Scully.”

—

He’s nervous in the elevator on the way up to the BAU, Y/N on the other hand is so excited she’s practically vibrating. She’s dressed for the part, with her little visitor's badge and Spencer’s hand held tightly in her own, she basically drags him towards the bullpen when the doors open.

“Spence!” Luke calls for him, Tara and Matt turn around with big smiles to see him. “Who’s this?”

“Uh,” Spencer swallows sharply, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N this is Luke, Matt and Tara.”

She lets go of his hand to shake theirs, he watches as they all smile and introduce themselves to her, causing the rest of the team to notice the new person in the room and rush over. They have a lot of questions, they’re all very surprised she’s as young as he was when he started at the bureau and that he’s actually bringing her around.

When he finds out what’s going on, he’s really glad he brought her in. There’s been a few bomb threats in D.C, one of which is the building across from Y/N’s apartment. They’re trying to keep hysteria to a minimum, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to tell her if he didn’t bring her, he also knows he would have broken protocol to get her out of there.

She sits at his desk while he works, looking through all his things for a while before Spencer hears a familiar voice in the bullpen. Penelope was called in for backup, making eye contact with Y/N as soon as she walked in and cheering. “Oh! You’re here!”

Spencer leaves the briefing room, abandoning the geo-profile to introduce Penelope to the girl she helped him find, he runs down the stairs and wraps his arms around her.

“Spencer,” she relaxes into his embrace and holds him close, “I’ve missed you so much.”

When Spencer pulls away, the smile on his face is remarkable, “Penelope, this is Y/N,” he says her name and Penelope automatically knows who she is.

He told her right after he bought her whole Wishlist, Penelope has known about her the longest and yet she’s never been able to meet her. She turns to Y/N with a smile, “are you a hugger?”

Y/N stands and wraps her arms around her, “I think I owe you a very big thank you,” she whispers in Penelope’s ear.

“For what?”

“Teaching grandpa over here how to use the internet,” she teases him, “and for your helpful tips, he was the nicest one I met on there.”

“You’re very welcome,” Penelope pulls back with another smile, holding Y/N’s face in her hands, “and thank you.”

Y/N pulls her into another hug and now everyone is watching, Spencer knows he’s going to be bombarded with questions eventually but for now, Y/N is going with Penelope to her office and Spencer has a map to look at while he stresses himself out.

Matt, Tara and Emily head to the scene to join JJ, Rossi and Will, leaving Luke with Spencer in the briefing room.

“Can I ask?”

Spencer nods, “go ahead.”

“How did you meet her? Was she one of your students?”

He doesn’t know how to answer, not because he’s ashamed of it or of her, rather because he doesn’t know if she’ll want people to really know. “Penelope helped me get online to meet people, I made an account on a sugar daddy website thinking it would be easier to pay someone who doesn’t know me to hang out rather than try and make a new friend.”

“That’s smart,” Luke nods along as he listens. “She seems really cool.”

“She’s the best,” he smiles. “She’s really smart and talented, she’s an author actually, her books coming out in January.”

“I’ll have to get a copy,” Luke smiles right back.

“Her publisher and I have actually planned a big birthday party slash final draft party, if you and the team want to come and have drinks and get to know her more, that would be really nice,” Spencer offers, knowing it’s about time they all celebrated something together.

“I’d love to come, and I’ll bring Penelope,” Luke’s just as excited as he is.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t know already, being with Penelope and everything?”

He shrugs, “we don’t talk about work or really gossip about the team now that she’s not working here, it makes her a little sad that she left but she’s doing a lot better just coming in occasionally.”

“I didn’t think I’d like my months off at first, either, but now I’m also debating leaving,” he knows it's a lie. He’s already written his letter of recognition, he’s just waiting for the go-ahead from Y/N that they’re moving to California.

“16 years is a really long time to be doing this job,” he agrees, “I’m sure if you wanted to leave the bureau would offer you your full retirement package early, given everything you’ve been through for this country.”

Spencer nods, “don’t let this job take your spark, you’re very wonderful, Luke, and I’d hate to see you lose it for the greater good.”

“My greater good is just down the hall,” he smirks, “I make the world a better place for the woman I love, she’s the reason I get up every day and come to work because I can’t wait to get home to her safely.”

Luke has always loved Penelope, it’s been very obvious, and yet she didn’t want really anything to do with him until Derek advised her to be nice. She was so busy thinking about all her other babies leaving the nest after Derek that she didn’t take the time to consider bringing in Luke to the nest for warmth and love as well.

“When are you asking her to marry you?”

Luke turns bashful, a slight blush on his cheeks as he stares at the table, “Christmas, it’s her favourite time of the year.”

“Have you talked to Derek?” Spencer only worries slightly, after what happened with Kevin he doesn’t want to see it happen to Luke.

“Nope, I’ve talked to her brothers though, we’re going to California again this year for Christmas and they all said they’d love to have me in the family,” Luke smiles, “the Garcias are my favourite.”

Spencer isn’t normally a hugger but he walks around the table and wraps Luke up, “I’m asking Y/N in a week.”

“No way?”

He nods, “she’s the greatest good I’m ever going to get.”

“Amen, brother.”

—

Penelope’s job was incredible, she was in awe as she watched her tap away at her keyboard and answer a million and one questions. She reminded her of Ned from Kim Possible and she knew if she said that to anyone she’d give away just how young she is.

She’s gotten a lot of looks, she knows people are talking about it and yet she doesn’t really care. There isn’t any malice behind the stares and the whispers, they all seem genuinely surprised that Spencer has a girlfriend over the fact she’s in her 20’s.

There’s a single dull moment and she turns to Y/N, “can I please have the juicy details, please,” she begs and it makes her feel giddy.

She’s never really had any girlfriends like this, and she certainly didn’t have anyone to tell about Spencer. “He’s the love of my life, I’m completely serious.”

Penelope squealed, “that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him, ugh this is so exciting! Are you guys serious? How long has it been?”

She nods, “not long, uh he got me this necklace a week or two ago and we’ve been moving pretty slow for his sake. In the last 10 months he’s become my bestie and I’ve convinced him to move in and he sleeps in my bed now and I love waking up beside him… he’s a real gentleman.”

“That’s good, he’s never been able to take the scenic route in life… I know you’re only here cause he trusts you and if he trusts you that means you know everything and if you know ever—“

“Yeah,” she cuts her off, “I know about all of it and everyone who’s hurt him and how he’s hurt himself but what’s more important is that it doesn’t phase me, he’s just a person trying to deal with the life he’s been given, we all are.”

Penelope wraps her up in a gentle hug, “he’s always needed someone like you.”

It makes her heartbreak just a tiny bit thinking about how as long he didn’t have anyone. Sure, he was surrounded by his friends at work and loved enough that they all brought him back home but he was never cared for the way she would have done it. There’s a weird maternal instinct that comes over her with Spencer and she knows exactly why, all she knows is she wants to love him and care for him for the rest of his life.

If she lives to be 100, she hopes he lives to be 116, because there isn’t a day she wants to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside her.

She’s not going to cry in Penelope’s arms after just meeting her so she pulls back with a smile, “but what kind of juicy details are we talking? Cause I can’t embarrass him too bad…”

Penelope’s laugh is evil as she rubs her hands together, “a little birdie whose name rhymes with shmerek said he knows how to use that mouth for more than just talking…”

It makes her laugh almost a little too hard and she starts to feel her face heat up, she simply nods, “yeah, we haven’t gone all the way but from what’s happened so far, I can agree.”

Penelope turns in her rolling chair and laughs, “ugh that’s so great, I’m glad you’re having a good time— I mean I always thought Spencer would be good in bed after all the chats we’ve had about kinks and shit, he’s really educated, obviously, but I always knew that it would translate from paper to real-life very easily.”

“Oh totally,” she nods feverishly, “we talked about that before actually, virginity is simply a construct used to control women and make them feel pure or dirty, to feel like they can take something from a woman and yet virgins are so sexual and in tune with their needs and wants that they typically are good or at least know what to do from whatever porn they’ve consumed when it comes down to it. How the more in tune with someone's sexuality that they are the better they are in bed because they apply what they want to their partner and almost get off more on the fact someone is enjoying them than the fact they’re being pleasured.”

Penelope shakes her head with a loving smile, “you listen when he talks, you love every part of him and you’re beautiful… he really hit the jackpot.”

She brushes it off with a laugh, “I got pretty lucky with him too.”

Her phone rings before she can agree, answering with a cheerful tone, Spencer is on the other end, “do you have my beautiful girlfriend with you still?”

“Present,” she answers for herself, “are you still here, dad-Spence?”

She bites her lip and closes her eyes, fuck.

“Yeah, uh, I am, we think we got the actual building with the bomb, they’ve sent the team down there to clear it and check it out.”

“I’ll head back to the bullpen, then,” she stands and heads to the door, not wanting to face Penelope after almost calling him daddy right in front of her.

“Hey,” she calls to Y/N, “don’t be embarrassed. I get it, believe me, I’ve answered some calls in here with the dirtiest remarks to the completely wrong people. But, I’ll see you later?”

She smiles, “yeah, I’d love to see you again.”

In the bullpen, Spencer’s by his desk all alone. His teams cleared out and now it was just the office staff wandering around. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back, “ready to go home?”

“Uh, not yet…” he turns to look at her, “I don’t want to bring you back to D.C unless the case is closed.” He looks nervous and she understands it perfectly.

“Okie Dokie, she smiles, leaning in for a hug to get close to his ear, “can we fuck in a storage closet to pass the time?”

He laughs but he takes her hand and he pretends to take her on a tour, he leads her down the hall and towards the filing room where he knows no one will be. “No one has really used this room in ages, since we went digital, and Penelope had all this stuff put online anyway.”

“So you can bend me over that table and rail me next time we come back?”

“Or?” She hears his playful tone and smirks to herself, letting him manhandle her hands behind her back as he bends her over a table, “I could fuck these big beautiful thighs of yours?”

“So only you can get off? Please,” She scoffs at him, wanting to piss him off to see where it gets her, wiggling her ass back against him as she does so.

He unbuttons her pants and drags them down her legs to leave her in just her thong, taking a handful of her ass and squeezing before laying a hard slap against her, she gasps at the feeling but also at the fact it was so loud.

“They’re going to hear you?!” She whispers with a disappointed tone.

“Isn’t that what you said you wanted? You wanted everyone to know only daddy can take care of you?” He uses her own words against her and she whines. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, but seriously,” she turns her head to look at him, “check my pocket.”

He does exactly that, finding one of her little bullet vibes in the front pocket of her jeans, “you planned this?”

“I knew we’d be having some kind of sex somewhere in this building,” she smirks. “Also my safe word is red but keep going.”

“Alrighty, then,” she can hear the smirk on his face as he thinks it over.

He takes his handcuffs out of his back pocket and cuffs her, “you know, it’s public indecency looking like this in here, technically it’s a federal offence and it’s my duty as a federal officer to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She swallows sharply, pushing back against his groin and gasping when her bare asscheek meets the cold metal of his gun in his holster. Sometimes she forgot he was a real FBI agent, sometimes it didn’t feel real to her because he was just her nerdy boyfriend and he never had any of his "cop props" with him… suddenly they weren’t just accessories to her anymore, he was actually a cop who just bent her over a table and cuffed her and now he’s going to fuck her "big beautiful thighs" as he called them.

“What’s the sentence, agent?” She plays along because damn he’s hot like this.

He presses his chest to her back as he leans in close to her ear, “It’s doctor, and you know that.”

He turns on the vibrator and rests it inside her underwear, right against her clit at the lowest setting, her thighs twitch at the feeling and all she wishes is that she had something to hold on to.

She whines again when she hears his belt buckle dangle and his zipper open, he grips his cock at the base and drags the head between her cheeks before slipping between her things with a sigh, “and it’s taking my time, you’re just going to have to, rather impatiently, deal with it.”

“Yes, doctor,” she closes her eyes and waits for the feeling of his cock between her legs but he doesn’t push in.

He places his feet on either side of hers so that she can't open her legs any further and finally, finally breaches her thighs. He groans at the drag of his cock against her skin as the vibrations from her panties continue to make her legs quake. She lets out a shaky breath and reaches for his shirt as he presses against her once more. Grabbing his tie instead, she pulls on it and he gasps for air.

“Sorry,” she mumbles with a smirk, not sorry at all for slightly choking him as she continues to hold his tie.

He swats her hands away from his tie and grips the cuffs to separate her hands, pushing them further up her back until it’s almost uncomfortable. The most uncomfortable thing about this was the fact he wasn’t inside of her, she felt so empty as she clenched around nothing. The stimulation on her clit was nice, the feeling of him taking her from behind is ungodly and yet he’s not in her. It’s the worst punishment in the whole world.

It was nowhere near enough to get her off and he knew that she wanted so much more that she wasn’t going to get, whining as he kept his thrusts at the same slow pace. It was agonizing, she squeezed her legs together more to tease him but he ended up liking it. There was nothing she could do for more, she was just going to have to let him take her, and that thought was what brought her closer.

“Please?” She begged, sounding just as desperate as she thought she would and not giving a single fuck.

“Please what?” He snaps his hips against her just a bit harder with each thrust.

She gasps again before biting her lip to hold back a moan, “finish in my mouth?” She begs once more, “please?”

He pulls off of her and yanks her off the table, turning her around, she drops to her knees without being told and opens her mouth immediately. He grips her by her hair and guides her towards his cock, slipping it past her lips and right down her throat.

He groans at the feeling, she closes her eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of his heavy cock in her mouth. Taking him more forcefully than ever before, he’s too caught up in the moment to realize he might be a little too rough but she also doesn’t mind. Breathing through her nose to stay calm she takes him as far as she can, pressing her nose to his pubes he can feel how hot her breath is as she struggles to breathe.

“Such a good girl,” he pulls her off so she can breathe for a moment, “you want my cum so bad don’t you?”

“Yes please, daddy,” she replies with a rasp in her voice that makes it obvious where he’s been.

She takes him in her mouth once more, sucking earnestly to get him closer and closer to the edge. He’s whining, pulling her hair and doing everything in his power not to thrust against her face, even though she’s okay with it.

She knows when he’s close because his cock always twitches in the same spot, it’s a tell-tale sign that he’s going to cum in a second. She applies more suction, running her tongue along the underside before taking him all the way once more just in time for him to cum right down her throat with each swallow.

He’s not quiet, anyone walking past the door will hear him panting and gasping, muttering good girl under his breath, he’s more fucked out by this blow job than she’s ever made him before. She can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and leaves her there on her knees, covered in spit and drool and unable to wipe her own mouth due to the fact she’s still fucking handcuffed.

She rests against his shoe, pressing the vibrator against her clit a little more, she twitches at how good it feels but it’s still not enough to get her off, and a part of her doesn’t want to.

He pulls her up to her feet and sits her down on the table he was just pretending to fuck her against. He attempts to spread her legs and get between them but she stops him, “leave the vibe where it is and let’s just go home?”

“You want to walk out of this building with a vibrator in your panties, and say goodbye to my co-workers and friends knowing you could cum anytime?”

She smirks, “yes, but I won't cum cause this pathetic toy isn’t as good at you.”

He clicks the button to turn it up a speed and she gasps, pushing against the feeling and moaning into it, “I’d like to see you try that.”

—

He takes her on the rest of the “tour” with that vibrator in her panties, she’s getting more and more flustered the more they look around. Eventually, he shows her the library, getting her alone in the back corner where he can talk to her without the risk of people knowing what’s going on.

“I can’t,” she whines as he presses her against the shelves, “please?”

“Please what?”

“Turn it off, daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” she grips his suit jacket tightly as she looks up at him with the eyes he can’t say no to.

“Mmm,” he hums, reaching into her pants to free her from the stimulation, she relaxes finally. “What do you think you deserve now?”

“Don’t wanna cum till we’re at home,” she whispers, “but you’ll have to make it quick because we have a flight to catch at 8.”

“Fuck,” he whispers like he forgot. “I hope we can get back into the apartment in time.”

“Why?”

“The bomb was in the basement of the building beside yours,” he admits and the whole facade fades, “that’s why I’m not taking you home yet.”

“That’s why you wanted to fuck me,” she whispers with a giggle. “You could have at least told me this was a ‘you almost died’ rush for you.”

“I didn’t want to say it like that,” he admits and a depression washes through his blood, he feels the low settle as he drops, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she takes his face in her hands and makes him look her in the eyes, “I love you, I’m glad we’re both safe. Everything in there is replaceable, you and me aren’t. This is a really good thing, Spencer.”

He nods, doing what she’s told him so many times she wants him to do, telling her his thoughts so that he’s no longer haunted alone, “when I told my friend Derek about you, he said dating a younger woman means I’ll never have to worry about you dying of old age before me. That’s one of his fears being the same age as Savannah, but I’ve lost so many people I never even thought about getting old with you I’ve just wanted to keep this version of you safe and with me forever.”

“Penelope said she always wished you’d find someone like me, and my only thought was If I live to be 100, I hope you live to be 116 because there isn’t a day I want to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside me,” he whispers with a smile, “but now I’m thinking if you live to be 100, I don’t want to go past 84.”

“You can’t say that,” he whispers, tears bubbling in his eyes, “what if I die tomorrow? I need to know you’re going to be fine and not end your wonderful existence because I’m not here anymore. You’re too wonderful to put all your worth on me.”

She doesn’t want to cry, she already looks like she’s been fucked and now she’s a mess, she pulls him into a kiss so he’ll stop talking and they can just be together, it was hard enough for her thinking he was going to die eventually, let alone him hypothesizing dying tomorrow.

She rests her forehead against his, “we always do this.”

“What?”

“It’s like orgasms open the emotions or something,” she snuffles which turns into a laugh, “do you think our kids are going to find it weird that you’re so much older than me?”

Everything takes him for a loop, “uh,” he struggles to find the words, pulling back and looking at her as her face drops, “I um—

“You don’t want kids anymore?” She looks genuinely saddened and he doesn’t know how to answer.

“I do,” he nods, “just—“

“Not with me?” She puts the words in his mouth.

“With you, just not yet,” he holds her by the shoulders, “I need more time with you before we have a kid, I need to love life and be in a good place and somewhere where I can focus all my attention on them, and I can’t yet.”

“I want a baby by 30,” she whispers before pressing her lips together awkwardly, “46 isn’t too old to be a dad, I’ve seen men become fathers at 80.”

He laughs as the anxiety leaves him, “a little California surfer baby wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Well, we fuck like rabbits, we might get there sooner than you planned,” she nudges him, “you’re a wonderful boyfriend, and if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to stay my boyfriend for a little longer? I’m not ready to be a wife or a mom and change my name when I just got it put on a published book.”

“I’ll change mine to yours,” he replies like it's nothing, “or keep yours and we’ll hyphenate the kid's names.”

“It’s plural now?” She teases him once more.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you,” he assures her, “forever.”

“You’d pluck a star from the sky for me wouldn’t you, Doctor Y/L/N?”

He laughs at how it sounds but he kinda likes it. Her word choice is even funnier to him, however, because he’s actually gone out of his way to pluck a star for her. She has no idea, but her last present is a big one.

She struggled to get her own name on a book for so long, now there’s a star named after her, in the sky for everyone to see for the rest of time.

Permanent tag list:

@ssacalumsg0lden @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @anaagraceeberr

Sugar daddy fic

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #mdm

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bunnykawa · 4 years

Text

i’m better than you! (oikawa x f. reader)

summary: If there was one thing Oikawa hated more than geniuses, it was your boyfriend.

a/n: thought about oikawa with a glock and it had me feeling some type of way. so here’s 6.2k words of what’s been in my head. also if you love iwa-chan, i’m deeply sorry. (btw someone replied to my last fic saying they were gonna move to the states with iwa-chan and...yeah that was funny cs this was sitting my drafts)

warnings: 18+, yandere themes, implied character death, mentions of blood/gore, GUNPLAY!!, violence, noncon/dubcon/rape, little bit of exhibitionism?, mentions of cheating, brief mentions of stalking, abusive language/cursing

Oikawa didn’t know when it started.

It could’ve been the first time he ever saw you in school, so quiet and shy, with a pink tinge across your face when you glanced in his direction. Or it could’ve been the first time you spoke to him, with a little tremble to your lips as you struggled to form the right words that would leave a lasting impression. Maybe it was when he started noticing you were always attending his volleyball games, cheering on your school with a big stupid grin on your face.

Or maybe it was a mixture of all these little moments that made Oikawa feel what he felt. It didn’t matter what started it. All Oikawa really knew was that he was so in love with you.

You ended up spending so much time together and blossoming such a beautiful friendship that others didn't expect to happen. It was a dream for him—seeing you smile and laugh, not caring about how you looked. And when you would tease him, it would make him laugh rather than upset him. Yes, he loved you for that. He loves everything about you. From the way you fiddled with your fingers when you had nothing else to do to your weird outbursts when you get excited. You were nothing like the girls who threw themselves at him in hopes of getting his attention.

Often times, after you would hang out, Oikawa would pull down his pants in the privacy of his bedroom and desperately fist his cock until thick spurts of white would shoot onto anything that he was able to steal from your room from all the times he came over to your house. A picture, a shirt, his favorite pair of panties that smelled so deliciously like you, one of your socks that he wrapped around his length as he fucked his hand—absolutely anything he got his hands on that once belonged to you—was enough to have him dizzy with lust, desire, and love.

You became everything to him. If he was ever able to hold you close with his own fingertips, he would be able to die happily. He would even suffice with just a sniff of your hair while you’re actually awake instead of when you’re dead asleep in the middle of the night and he sneaks into your room through the window you always forget to lock. You couldn’t know that, though. Not like he would have been able to make a move on you so soon to make you completely his anyway.

But he would do anything for you. You were his best friend after all.

So when for the first time ever in your close friendship, you suddenly show up to his house unannounced with tears running down your cheeks and shamelessly throwing yourself into his arms, Oikawa was frozen in place for a second.

“He cheated on me, Tooru,” you sobbed into his chest. Oh...all he could do was hold you close, bring you inside, and kiss the top of your head lovingly as your shoulders shook.

“It’s okay, Princess. Let it all out. I’m here,” he cooed.

And, wow...you smelled so good when you were awake. So sweet and pure. Absolutely beautiful...

So why the fuck would he cheat on you?

Oikawa was angry. He was so angry he could laugh at how incredulous the situation was to him. How could he willingly treat you like shit?

After letting him take you away so easily, so Oikawa was forced to resort to pretending that he wasn’t devastatingly in love with you. After being forced to trust him with your heart, convincing himself that he would never hurt you. After having to deal with the fact that every single moment that you shared with Oikawa, that made him fall so deeply for you, was also shared with him. After hearing you scream his name at every single volleyball game you ever attended instead of "Go Tooru!"

It was true—you really were nothing like Oikawa’s fangirls. You didn’t love Oikawa like the fangirls loved him. Never yearned for Oikawa like how his fangirls did.

You loved Iwaizumi, the former ace of Seijoh and the target of most of Oikawa’s sets. And you broke poor Oikawa’s heart every single time he witnessed a loving moment between you and Iwaizumi. He didn’t understand. He was taller, maybe even more cuter, just so much better than Iwaizumi. So why didn’t you choose him?

That’s how you ended up here; shivering in fear on Iwaizumi’s bed as he sat on the swivel chair he usually kept in his bedroom. Iwaizumi's hands and feet were tied together and the ghost of a blue bruise was forming on his right eye. The rest of his face was slightly swollen and there was a smudge of dried blood under his nose. Whenever you glance up at him, he was staring down at his hands in guilt, shame, and maybe anger and pain. But he made no move to try to get out of his restraints. It was no use.

Can we talk? Come over soon.

You received that text from Iwaizumi's number, assuming it was him. Anxiety-ridden and curious, you came to Iwaizumi's house, wondering what he could possibly say after hurting you so bad. The door was unlocked so you let yourself in, but you didn't expect a shirtless Oikawa—your best friend ever since you met him—to be sitting on the couch looking as relaxed as ever with Iwaizumi's phone in his lap. The little dry splatters of crimson liquid that kissed his skin were easy to notice.

As he led you to Iwaizumi's bedroom, your heart was pounding. And when you saw Iwaizumi in such a disheveled state, you were frozen in fear. Oikawa forced you to sit down on the bed, and you would've started screaming for help—you could've, but a metal handle sticking out of Oikawa's pocket caught your eye.

"God, I fucking hate you. Ever since you got with (Y/N), you’ve made it so hard not to rip your skull apart.”

Oikawa was standing a few feet away from Iwaizumi. A million thoughts ran through your head and every single one of them was wondering how this happened.

When did your best friend become so violent?

And when the fuck did he own a gun?

"I know. I made a goddamn mistake," Iwaizumi grunts in pain, "It's over now. We're not together anymore so-...so you don't need to be doing this dumb shit."

Oikawa laughs loudly, "That's not the point, Iwa-chan! The point is you hurt her." He's clenching and unclenching his fists in anger.

"I said I fucking know!" Iwaizumi barks. He was breathing heavily, his chest was rising and falling deeply.

Oikawa's face forms into a deep scowl. Suddenly, he pulls the black pistol out of his pocket and strikes Iwaizumi's cheek with it, making him jerk his face to the side, before pressing it against his temple. Blood drips from the side of his mouth from the sudden impact.

"Tooru," you whimper. You were shaking so bad, trying hard to stay as calm as possible in case he would try to turn the gun on you. The sight of blood made you feel sick. This whole situation was disgusting.

"You're lucky I haven't blown your brains out for stealing my girl. But hurting her, too? I should fucking shoot you right now." Maybe Iwaizumi was scared, just like you. One pull of the trigger and he would be gone in an instant. But he also looked so furious, with his jaw clenched and his eyes ablaze.

"Then shoot me, Shittykawa. Fucking do it," Iwaizumi taunts him, "Let (Y/N) see how fucked up you are. Traumatize her."

Oikawa pulls away and presses the pistol underneath his own chin in thought, before he carelessly waves it around as if it was just a toy. Every single time he moved, you jumped in your seat and your heart beat eratically. He was unpredictable. "Fuck that, I don't wanna kill you in front of (Y/N) yet. I'd rather blow her back out than blow your brains out first."

His words send a fearful shiver down your spine and makes your skin crawl. You’ve never seen this side of him before—never even expected him to be like this.

Iwaizumi growls, "You're sick."

"I'm not sick, Iwa-chan. I'm doing what's right for my girl," he said firmly. He spun the weapon between his fingers.

"She's not 'your girl.' She was never your girl!" Oikawa and Iwaizumi continued to argue, as if one of them wasn't holding a gun capable of killing everyone in the room instantly. “If this is what you consider right, then you’re just a fucking psycho!”

Why did you have to be here? In between this mess?

You cover your face with the collar of your shirt, crying and trembling with your heart threatening to pound until it jumps out of your chest and leaves you dying. The thought of someone just... getting their life stolen in the hands of someone else right in front of you was destroying your mind. Somehow, even if this was all Oikawa's twisted idea, it felt like it was your fault.

"Tooru, I don't wanna be h-here. I... I don't want you to kill him..." you hiccup through your tears. Without you noticing, he slowly walks towards you so that he's directly in front of you, watching you break down. “I wan-wanna go h-home.”

"Put the fucking gun down, dumbass," Iwaizumi warns him.

Looking up from your shirt and desperately brushing away the tears as they fell, you're faced with the muzzle of the barrel pointed straight at you, only a mere few inches away from your terrified face. Behind the pistol was, of course, the man you thought would always protect you.

"Oikawa," Iwaizumi snarled, "Don't you dare fucking hurt her. Are you crazy?"

"Shut up, Iwa-chan! Since when did you ever care about her like I do?" Oikawa snaps at him. You stay focused on the shiny barrel of the pistol.

You could die right now. Right in front of your ex boyfriend and your soon-to-be ex best friend. Bleeding with your brains on the mattress you once shared with the man you spent a whole year loving.

All because of Oikawa.

"Why, Tooru?" you ask in a cracked voice, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat.

Oikawa smiled at you, "I'm gonna make this right, okay? I won't hurt you. I just...follow what I say, okay, Princess?"

“I don’t-” you gulp hard, trying to find your voice, “I really don’t understand any of this. I-...I hate this. I don’t wanna die. Tooru, I’m so-...I-...nng?”

The muzzle is delicately pressed between your lips suddenly, nudging your soft lips apart and cutting you off mid-sentence. You inhale sharply as you stare into Oikawa’s brown eyes, surprised and terrified of his sudden action. It throws you off guard, your body going rigid at the thought of dying at this very second.

What would your parents do? Is anyone even gonna find you? Will Iwaizumi survive? Since when did Oikawa hate you so much that he wanted to stick a gun in your mouth?

“Suck.”

Wait, what?

The fear on your face is instantly replaced with bewilderment. Suck? What does he mean suck? You stare at each other, the confusion evident on your face, but Oikawa couldn’t stop smiling evilly.

“Suck on it, Princess,” Oikawa coos. Is he being serious? Even Iwaizumi, ten feet away and tied up, is looking at him as if he was an alien.

“You heard what I said, (Y/N). I won’t hurt you if you listen to me.” When you don't move, he pulls the gun back only to cock it. Your breath hitches in your throat as he places it back on your lips. "Put those sweet lips around my pistol and suck on it. Make it pretty.”

“What the fuck?” breathes Iwaizumi, gawking at Oikawa’s odd demand.

With the sound of Oikawa cocking the gun fresh in your mind, and fueling your desire to live, you hesitantly wrap your lips around the gun. You start sucking on it, flicking your tongue against the underside of the barrel and slowly bobbing your head around it as you maintain eye contact with Oikawa through your blurry vision. It wasn’t cold, surprisingly, but the feeling of the metal in your mouth made you wince. You’re squeezing your eyes shut, ignoring your tears and trying to think of the weapon as something else.

Oikawa says nothing, his gaze never leaving you while you take his gun as if it was his own cock. The only thing flashing through his mind is that this view is absolutely perfect. Your saliva leaves a thin coating on the barrel every time you pull your head back, just to nibble on the muzzle and swirl your tongue around it, only to let half of the barrel disappear into your mouth again—and it leaves a satisfied feeling in his lower stomach seeing you attempt to submit to him so you could live.

Slowly, he starts pushing it deeper into your mouth, almost to the back of your throat, and you recoil before he can reach that point, grabbing onto his hand that was holding the gun with both of your weak hands. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts in a disappointed tone, “I wanna see you take in more, Princess.” Instantly, you force yourself to relax your throat to let him invade the rest of your mouth. You hold your breath as he hits the back. You’re still trying to bob your head along the weapon, relying on your nose to give you the air that you need.

There was something really fucked up about this whole situation. A red tint is flushed across your face when you glance over at your ex boyfriend, watching you intently. He’s disgusted, that’s for sure—but when you look up to make eye contact with Oikawa, he’s far from disgusted. And it’s easier to tell, because when you trail your gaze to his lower half...

He’s rock hard—bulging from beneath the fabric of his sweats, sweet smile on his perfect face, absolutely no shame in his erection from getting his pistol sucked.

Iwaizumi always knew he was fucking weird.

But there’s an odd, yet familiar sensation, in your lower stomach—a warmth that you know all too well that only happens when Iwaizumi touches you—that makes you clench your thighs and flutter your eyes shut. Looking up at Oikawa, there’s no doubt that he knows what you’re feeling. A small smirk finds its way across his lips.

Iwaizumi didn't know you were fucking weird, either.

Yeah, that’s what’s fucked up about this situation. Why was this turning you on, too?

Oikawa suddenly pulls the gun away, leaving a thin string of saliva following your lips to the harsh metal for a second until it disconnects. He leans in, making you hold your breath, and his lips find yours.

Soft—that’s the first thing you think about when he connects your lips. “Kiss me back,” he murmurs.

So, you do. He feels foreign to you, strange even, and you feel quite awkward kissing him when you never even thought about kissing him before. You were beyond flustered. Despite being in such a stressful situation...he’s gentle. The tip of his tongue trails along the opening of your lips. As a habit, you part your lips and allow him to enter your mouth.

You’re still scared. Your heart is beating so fast. Your breathing is labored from the anxiety sitting heavily on your chest. But Oikawa is strangely calm. In fact, if he wasn’t moving against your lips right now and lapping at your tongue with his, he’d be smiling and laughing at Iwaizumi’s face. I’m kissing your ex girlfriend!

And Iwaizumi couldn’t do anything except stare.

You push your hands against his bare shoulders to pull away. “Tooru, stop it,” you gasp out, “Hajim- Iwaizumi is right there.” You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t even wanna see him in the first place after coming home to find him with another girl.

With his face close to you, he harbors a blank expression. “So, would you rather...do something else?” You pause for a second, remembering that he has a gun that’s a few inches away from you, and you reluctantly nod your head. His expression changes—a small smirk and softer, relaxed eyes, an indication that he definitely has something else in mind. Regret starts to fog your mind, but you also can’t help but be curious.

“What are you planning, Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi asks in an irritated, strained tone. He even sounded a bit...jealous? Was he actually jealous? You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Oikawa tilts his head to the side to shoot Iwaizumi an evil smirk.

“I’m gonna fuck your ex girlfriend, Iwa-chan. Right in front of you.”

You never thought you'd be in this position.

It's hard to fully take in the situation when you literally feel like you're about to pass out from anxiety and all you want is for everything to be calm. At least go back to the way it used to be or how it should be—spending the rest of your time with Oikawa while eating tubs of ice cream and watching movies until you pass out together.

Instead, you're shaking like a leaf while straddling his thighs, fully exposed, soft skin pressing against his. Oikawa is completely bare, too, and while you always admired his athletic ability and perfect body, you didn't wanna see him like this. Not at all. Especially when his finger is still lazily sitting on the trigger of his pistol with it still pointed towards you, challenging you to do something so he can pull it.

It's that mischievous glint in his eyes that make you tense up the most. You want to be angry. You have every right to be, you think, but it's so difficult.

You're trying to cover up your body with your arms, holding onto the small amount of pride you have left, but it's no use when Oikawa is constantly looking you up and down. At the same time, you're trying to avoid looking down—his cock was sitting upright, hard and pulsating and...bigger than you thought he would be.

Way bigger.

"You can give it a little lick, Princess. If it'll make it easy for you."

You bite your trembling lip, shaking your head side to side, "I don't...I don't feel like it, Tooru." Oikawa moves to place his free hand on your waist, trailing his finger tips up and down, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Just try it, baby. I won't bite," he muses, "Or would you rather I-" He picks his gun up higher. That small, annoying smile seemed to never leave his face because he knew the power he had over you at this moment.

"No," you quickly interrupt him. A chuckle vibrates in his chest at your response.

"I think I need to take care of you first, hm?" Before you can disagree with him again, he's sitting up to grab your hips. He flips you both over so he's above you. He opens your legs and lifts them up so your thighs are pressing against your stomach, exposing everything to him. You’re embarrassed, covering your face with your hands.

“Let’s see your face, Princess. Don’t hide,” he insists, “You’re so pretty. I wish I could’ve seen you like this sooner.” You have no choice but to let your hands fall from your face. Oikawa looks so happy. In the corner of the room, Iwaizumi is muttering something under his breath with a flushed, bruised, and bleeding face.

Oikawa runs his fingers along the skin of the underside of your thighs before placing his palms on each. He was still holding onto the weapon. It’s pressing against one of your thighs. Why did everything feel so cold?

You flinch when he leans down towards your heat to flatten his tongue and lick a stripe up your slit. Oikawa stifles a groan at the taste of you. This was what he wanted since the first time he met you—an opportunity to make you his. He wraps his lips around the little sensitive nub at the top of your cunt and sucks on it.

“T-Tooru,” you softly whine in uneasiness. You’re not sure if Oikawa can hear the distaste dripping at your mouth, but he keeps sucking and lapping at you as if you were the last thing he would ever eat. “I really don’t like this, Tooru. This is so embarrassing...”

He looks up at you, locking eyes with you as you silently beg him to stop. He removes one of his hands from your thighs to probe at the entrance of your pussy with his thumb. Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear the familiar slick of your wetness and he spreads it around with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t seem to be that against it, (Y/N).”

Of course you’d be wet—he’s licking and playing with your cunt. When would he understand that?

You gulp nervously, “I don’t want this, Tooru. Please.”

He hums to myself, seeming to be deep in thought as always, before he mutters, “Oh, I know what you want.” You’re confused for a second, but he moves his other hand to hold the pistol at your entrance and...what the fuck?

What the fuck?

“No! Tooru!” you gasp, moving to sit up. Oikawa quickly pushes you back down by your chest. He’s pushing the gun inside you, slowly, but surely—and you feel every single rough patch and texture on the barrel, breaking through the rings of your cunt. “No, no, no!” You’re trying to reach for him, to stop him before he continues, yet he’s able to hold you back with one arm and pushes the pistol inside your pulsing heat, stretching you with the hard metal. It’s an uncomfortable stretch because of how stiff it is. You can already feel the trigger guard pressing at your asshole from how much he filled you up.

You swear Iwaizumi whispers a “holy shit” from his place.

“This is what you wanted, hm? You wanted to get fucked by my pistol?” Oikawa coos in a sickeningly sweet tone. You’re shaking your head, bracing your arms against the bed sheets and chewing on your lip. No. This can’t be happening. “I saw how you reacted when I let you suck on it, Princess. Bet this sweet pussy was already dripping the second I put it in your mouth. I never knew you were so dirty.” He wanted to laugh. The view from between your legs was incredible. He’s glancing at Iwaizumi, who is trying very hard not to look.

“That’s not true!" you gasp. Oikawa continues to pump the gun in and out of you with slow and deliberate strokes. You hate that you feel every single ridge and dent. He leans down to give a few licks at your clit. You’re suppressing a moan in your throat, because this shouldn’t feel good. Every single time he snaps it back into you, you’re gasping for breath. The walls of your cunt are clenching around the thick barrel and it’s hot—you’re heating up from the unfamiliar object forcing its way inside you, forcing you to react. Forcing you to take it in even if your brain is screaming for mercy.

“I know you better than you know yourself,” Oikawa mutters, “You’ve been mine since the beginning. I just let him have you.” This time, you’re biting down on your fist as he continues his assault. This wasn’t the Oikawa you met and became best friends with; this was an absolute monster. Maybe this was who he was the whole entire time—a liar, a master manipulator, a delusional psychopath who couldn’t understand the chemicals behind truly loving someone.

But that doesn’t matter right now because fuck—the consistent strokes of Oikawa fucking you with his pistol felt good. The tiny moans you’re letting out proves everything, even as you try to hold them back. It’s so hard to stop your hips from bucking against the hard metal, even harder to stop that stupid fire burning in your pelvis. God, you’re about to fucking explode.

It doesn’t feel good, you’re trying to convince yourself. This is assault. This is rape. This doesn’t feel good. You’re not turned on, you’re just terrified if he pulls the trigger—

“Let it out, baby. The gun’s still fully loaded,” he whispers against your lips with a smirk, suddenly lifting himself up to press his forehead against yours. His words were ringing loudly in your ears, reaching every single nerve in your body. You part your lips in shock, your legs are shaking violently against your chest, and your eyes are finally rolling back into your head. A loud moan erupts from your throat, high-pitched like a scream. Quickly, he connects your lips and forces his tongue inside.

Fuck.

It almost hurts with how tightly you’re clenching onto the gun still inside you. But it’s one of the best feelings that you’ve ever felt because you’re cumming. You’re actually cumming. Your pussy is hot with so much shame, but you’re still gushing juices, soaking Oikawa’s hand.

You’re cumming on a fucking gun.

The room is silent as you’re coming undone. Iwaizumi is dazed, obvious from the look on his face as he’s staring at the place between your legs and the wet spots soaking the sheets. Oikawa stands upright on his knees, and you notice that his pelvis is wet from your juices. How embarrassing. How utterly fucking embarrassing. He’s pulling the gun out of your cunt and raising it up to his face, examining how your cum is running down to the handle.

Oh, that’s really satisfying. He could take a picture right now, but he didn’t want to waste anymore time.

"Cumming just from my pistol?" Oikawa chuckled, "So fucking dirty. I love it. I could get you pregnant right now. Pump you up with my kids, would you like that?"

“Fuck’s sake, Shittykawa. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Iwaizumi speaks up all of a sudden. Oikawa simply scoffs at the other man before pulling you closer to rest your thighs against his hips.

You wheeze, completely out of breath, “No, Tooru. I’m done. I need to leave.” With the palms of your hands against the mattress, you weakly try to pull yourself up and away from Oikawa’s grasp.

“I said I was gonna fuck you, didn’t I?” Oikawa hums, pulling you back against his hips and placing his tip at your entrance. You wanna move away, and you really try to by moving to scoot away from him, but you feel so weak. He’s still holding onto his disgustingly wet gun—wet from you. Has he even put it down at all?

"I never break promises," Oikawa sighs, with a big smile on his face, "And you’re so beautiful, (Y/N). How did I ever stop myself before? I should've taken you even if that fucker was still with you."

You’re trying to protest. You’ve been trying all night, but Oikawa is so persistent with wanting his revenge—revenge that you never even wanted. But he’s also thinking that this is it—this is the stepping stone of becoming the object of your affection. Not Iwaizumi, the man you loved and who cheated on you. Not anyone else. Just your best friend.

His hands are gripping onto your hips as he arches your back for his hips to meet yours. It’s another uncomfortable stretch as he pushes passed the fleshy walls of your pussy with his throbbing cock. You’re already wet—he has no struggle sinking into your pussy—and the squelching sound your wetness makes and the sharp whine that you let out in response to his movements are music to his ears.

“Fuck,” he moans, “You’re tight, Princess. I thought Iwa-chan was fucking this pussy every night before.”

It seemed like Iwaizumi wasn’t in the room at first, even if you were hyper-aware of that fact and it made your whole body become flushed. If you could hear his thoughts right now, he would most definitely be thinking that this fucking sucks. There’s a crack in your voice when you let out a low moan at Oikawa finally sheathing you on his cock.

“How is it? Bigger than Iwa-chan?” he teases you. He pulls back only to dive deeper into your wetness. The feeling of his cock sliding against your walls makes you tremble. You’re so sensitive from how he fucked you with his gun less than five minutes ago, it’s a surprise that you haven’t passed out from the extra simulation he’s giving you.

“Shut up,” you groan, looking off to the side. When Oikawa is comfortably settled between your folds, he leans over you to brace his hands on either side of your head. Instinctively, you wrap your small hands around his biceps as he slides in and out of you, squeezing desperately.

Oikawa cocks his head to the side. “You don’t want to admit it, huh?” He suddenly snaps his hips sharply against yours, jerking your whole body upwards. “You don’t need to say it. I know how you feel, anyway.” It fucking hurts. His cock is longer, thicker, and going deeper than his gun was.

“How would you even know how I feel, Tooru?” you ask in a shaky tone. The anxiety never seemed to go away. Maybe you kept quivering because of your new-found fear of the brown-haired man above you, or maybe it was because you can still feel Iwaizumi burning a hole through you—he probably realized how much he hated you because if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be sitting tied up in his own home witnessing his friend rail his ex girlfriend.

Oikawa knew, though, that it was because you couldn’t fight the way your nerves were responding to how he touched you.

“Because if you didn’t like this, you wouldn't be under me right now,” he says lowly. With his hands gripping the sheets next to your head, he forces you deeper into the mattress with his body weight. The gun next to your head would’ve made you nervous, but you were too focused on the way Oikawa’s cock was drilling into your pussy like he was trying to leave an imprint of himself there for you to remember forever.

Every time he thrusts into you with all his strength, you’re gasping and moaning, gripping onto his biceps that flexed so deliciously as he filled you up completely. Your body was betraying you, writhing beneath him, basically begging for him to give you more. To make you cum one more time from just his cock.

“You really think this is funny, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi growls. You tense up at the sound of his voice—the anger dripping in his tone. “Basically raping my ex girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa purrs, “It’s so...satisfying.” He’s building up his pace, and pretty soon he’s pounding into you with such a force that you’re struggling to let out moans and end up up letting out breaths of air and whiny squeaks. “Especially since she likes it so much. Right, (Y/N)?” Your eyes are rolling back at the sensation—you’re not even trying to deny it at this point. No matter how fucked up or disgusting you look right now, you couldn’t escape Oikawa and you couldn’t stop your pussy from sucking in his cock hopelessly like he belonged inside you.

“I fucking hate you.”

The area on your pelvis is undeniably hot now. Sweat was appearing on your skin despite being fully naked and exposed to the cold air in Iwaizumi’s bedroom. Oikawa is consistently snapping his hips into yours while you’re trying to control your own hips from trying to buck into his. Trying to hold onto what little sanity you have left before you’re ultimately forced to let go on his veiny cock.

Oikawa is your best friend—was your best friend, you don’t even know anymore. Fuck, he’s evil, giving you a warm, welcoming smile with a gun laying next to your head and ravaging your insides at the same time. This isn’t normal. But damn did this feel so fucking good.

You’re crying now, the tears running down your cheeks in a steady stream. Fuck Iwaizumi. Fuck Oikawa’s gun. Fuck the insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, and guilt that you’ve had inside you for the past few weeks after your failed relationship, crying into Oikawa’s lap every single time. Fuck everything.

Only his name is forming at your lips, accompanied by wails of pleasure. You’ve never felt like this before, not even with Iwaizumi, who you thought would be the only person making you cum until you’re stupid.

“F-fuck, Tooru,” you manage to gasp out. All your muscles are clenching involuntarily. It only makes Oikawa groan, your pussy unbelievably squeezing even tighter around him, pulling him inside you.

“Are you okay, my baby? You gonna cum all over my cock?”

Your head is spinning and you just want it to stop. All you’re thinking about is how roughly Oikawa is fucking into you and the pleasure he’s bringing in waves washing over you. He’s not even touching your clit—the base of his cock is just hitting your swollen nub every time he thrusts inside of you, letting tiny shocks run through you.

“This is my pussy now,” he growls, “I’m gonna fuck this. I’m gonna stretch out this little cunt every day and you’re gonna let me, right? You’re gonna let me fill you up with my cum, too?”

Let go, every sensor in your body is screaming.

"C'mon, Princess. Tell me. Tell Iwa-chan how much you love my cock inside you. Tell us how much you wanna be filled with my cum," he grins as he shoves his length into you roughly. He nudges your head to the side and attaches his lips to the soft skin on your neck, sucking and biting at the area. You arch your back off the bed and you don't hold back anymore—you're chanting his name, finally, begging for him.

"Tooru-mmm, please," you plead, "Fuck me, please! I'm...I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum, Tooru!"

Then Oikawa lifts himself up, bracing himself on one of his arms before bringing his gun against your lips again. You don't hesitate to stick your tongue out, letting it in your mouth this time. God, he could fucking cum at the sight of you willingly sucking on his pistol, swirling your tongue over the metal surface. He won't shoot, he just wants to see you submitting to his gun and his cock like he's a king.

It's taking everything within you to not pass out from violently twitching and spasming on his cock, letting your juices squirt all over him once you open your mouth to cry loudly. His gun is still pressing into the base of your throat, so your scream drawls out into a choking noise. Oikawa is letting out a string of curse words—your juices are coating his skin and spraying all over his cock.

Your thighs feel so sore, and you're a sputtering mess as he pulls his gun away from you. It's covered in your saliva. Oikawa is lifting himself up, panting heavily, observing the erratic movement of your chest and the red flush of your body. He doesn't bother to pull out of your convulsing cunt. Why are you still trembling like that?

But it's okay. Oikawa is so happy, so pleased. You were such a good girl—he knows for sure that you finally accept him and want him.

“Hey, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa sang with delight in his tone to catch Iwaizumi's attention. Damn, you completely forgot he was still there.

Oikawa is finally upright on his knees, leaving you sweating on the bedsheets. Iwaizumi looked up, cringing in disgust and fueled with anger and envy from watching Shittykawa himself take your body so relentlessly as you were cumming beneath him. Oikawa lifts his arm, pointing the shiny metal weapon towards the other man in the room. He was still throbbing inside you, enjoying the feeling of you still twitching gently around his cock from your orgasm. With half-lidded eyes, you look up at him weakly, suddenly admiring his toned, muscular body and the sweat glistening on his abs. You're not sure if he came inside you, but the wetness escaping your hole and the feeling of his length twitching, too, is more than enough proof that he probably did.

"What do you want now, you fucking asshole?" Iwaizumi snarls.

The words that come out next are so snarky, filled with hate and arrogance. "Just wanted to let you know that I’m better than you," Oikawa sneers, "And I don't shoot blanks."

He finally pulls the trigger. The sound of a gunshot is piercing the air and Oikawa jerks slightly from the recoil. Then it's completely silent. Your thighs are still shaking, you’re still struggling to find your voice, and your brain seems to be focusing through the haziness. He leans down to give you the sweetest kiss, as if to say that everything will be okay now. The smell in the air was suddenly pungent—a mixture of sweat, sex, gun powder and...blood? Holy shit. You're screaming now.

Holy shit, Oikawa.

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