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arvandus · 3 years

Text

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Persephone's Symphony | Day One | Persephone

Hey lovelies— so as per my usual shenanigans I've decided this will have no schedule and that I will play god to my own creation because what is life without some chaos? The pros are you might not have to wait a week between updates, the cons are you might have to wait a week between updates. In all seriousness, please enjoy my lovelies!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 3.1k

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Master List

She can’t hear what the man in the truck says to him— the walls of this house are surprisingly thick. She supposes that’s a good thing. It means she will be able to go about her days normally while cooped up here. Well, as normal as possible. She doubts she’ll be able to get away with her three am rom-com marathons and ice-cream binges. She doubts she’ll get away with screaming in her sleep— and in the shower and at the breakfast table and when doing any, little thing that makes her remember that her life is one, constant nightmare.

It’s only three days— all she has to do is stay awake for three days.

While his head— her body guard’s head— is turned she leans against the kitchen sink, inching back the white lace curtain for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s like a little game at this point. She peeks at him, his eyes snap to hers, and she squeals and drops the curtain. Thank god the walls are thick. It’s almost unnerving how tuned he is to every little movement— not almost, it is unnerving but she supposes that is what makes him a good fit for this job. A good fit for keeping her alive. Like she has been doing for months now, she ignores the way her chest squeezes painfully.

Through the little strip of window that she allows for herself, she traces over his features one last time. Cropped black hair, a square jaw, at least two days worth of stubble. He looks like a bodyguard— rough, dangerous, manly— and that’s before taking into account the sheer size of the man. She is on her tiptoes, one hand pushing against the stainless steel below her for dear life, and she still has to crane her neck to properly see his face. She refuses to let her eyes wander any further than that— she had already glimpsed at the rest of him when he had made the short walk from the truck to the house. She already knows he’s massive.

His eyebrow twitches and she drops the curtain— she may not be as fast as he is but she’s a quick learner. Had she held the curtain open longer she is sure his eyes would have flicked to hers again. Those are the rules of the game, after all. She hears a muted thumping and the door handle jiggle from across the room, spinning towards the faded farmhouse door. She watches as the door handle turns, her throat tight, wondering where all the air in the room went— it was there a second ago.

The door pushes open and she jumps away from the sink, only just realizing what it’ll look like if he comes inside to her still hunched over the window. Of course, he’s already seen her but that’s beside the point. Part of the game is not talking about the game. A boot comes into view— the black, military grade kind— and it hits her like a punch to the gut that this is real— there really is someone out there trying to kill her. Now she really can’t breath. She can only force her lungs to expand to draw in some oxygen before her bodyguard finds her sprawled in an unconscious heap on the ground.

The boot is quickly followed by a leg, which is then, by default, followed by a torso and a head. A head that turns and watches her freeze, red handed like a bandit, in the middle of the kitchen. Gods, she should have just kept leaning against the sink— this is worse! Her hands are up and everything, shot out in front of her like she’s about to jump him or something. Yes, her— the girl currently in a hoodie that pools around her legs, displaying her knobby knees and bad posture— about to jump him— the man who had to practically duck to get through the doorway. She could laugh. In fact, she almost wishes he would laugh at her. She wishes he would do anything but look at her with that blank expression and those ice blue eyes.

“Uhm—” she blinks, trying to think of something to say other than holy shit you’re a giant— which, for the record, is what she wants to say— “hi?”

Are you serious, y/n?

He tilts his head at her and she almost cries. Not the same fear ridden, heartbroken, panicky cries of late. More so the awkward, why the fuck would you say that to the man charged with keeping you alive brand of cries. The normal kind. She drops her hands to her sides, slipping them into the pouch of her hoodie and tangling her fingers together. She can only allow herself to display one embarrassing thing at a time.

The man stays silent for a moment, each second of which makes her cheeks flame hotter and hotter, before finally opening his mouth. “Hi.”

Her chest deflates— some of the heat subsiding. He copied her. Whether purposefully or mockingly it alleviates some of the stupidity she’s feeling. She takes a few steps backwards, her bare feet pittering rather loudly over the worn hardwood. Well, that didn’t last long— there’s that embarrassment again.

“I’m y/n,” she squeaks out— gods, is Mickey Mouse in the building? “I guess you already know that though, huh?”

It was a stroke of genius putting her hands in her pocket— at least now he can’t see the way they shake furiously. She has to resist smashing her head against the sink. Nothing about this situation is optimal, to say the very least. Here she is making small talk with a man who could tear her in half. Her eyes drift to where his red henley pulls taut around his biceps— are they bigger than her head?

“James—” her eyes flick back up, face hotter than the sun, both from her blatant staring and the deep gravel of his voice— “but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t know why, probably because she’s an idiot or because she isn’t expecting him to say more than three words. He seems like the strong, silent type. Maybe that is just the rom-coms though. Maybe her brain is just mush now.

“Okay,” she all but whispers, backing further into the sink. His piercing eyes have yet to leave her— something which makes her knees knock together and fingers clench. “Which should I call you?”

He tenses, his dark eyebrows pulling together, and she has to swallow the bile that rises in her throat. It’s day one and she’s already offending him. She pulls her lip between her teeth, biting down until the tangy, metallic taste that she has grown too familiar with these past months floods her mouth. She tells herself that she does it to keep from cursing. Lying to herself is another game she likes to play.

The longer he remains quiet, the more she regrets asking the question. His blue eyes are still latched on her, drifting over the space between her eyes and her busted lip, but somehow they also seem miles away. She can’t tell if he’s looking at her— seeing her— or if he’s seeing something else entirely. It isn’t until she pushes off the counter, taking a hesitant step forward, her foot slapping against the wood like it’s trying to embarrass her again, that he blinks. She pulls one of her hands from the puddle that is her hoodie, sliding it over her hair. Can he see the way it shakes?

Probably.

“Nevermind, forget I asked. It was a dumb ques—”

“Bucky,” the word is rushed out, falling over her own stuttered babbling. He slows after that, his face remaining stoic but his cheeks dusting with the slightest hint of pink. “Call me Bucky.”

She doesn’t point it out— she doesn’t have a death wish. Her being here right now, standing across from a literal giant, barefoot and shaking, is proof enough of that. Instead she nods gently, lowering her hand slowly. He’s not going to attack her— he isn’t a wolf— but still she takes the precaution. Better safe than sorry.

“Bucky it is then.”

He nods stiffly and she pretends like it doesn’t make her hands shake harder. She waits for him to speak, eyes drifting over the blue cupboards and the breakfast nook, taking in the applications of the home and trying not to scream. She feels so out of place, not used to the warmth in the room— the lingering smell of yeast and the flowers in the vase on the table. She used to bake all the time. Now she can barely bring herself to microwave frozen dinners. The sun that filters through the crack in the curtains and lands against her cheek feels like pure fire. She spends her days in the dark— she wouldn’t be surprised if she was allergic to the sun itself now. Allergic to all the things she used to enjoy.

The silence is too much— she has to speak to keep her throat from closing. If she doesn’t then it may not open again.

“So—” she draws the word out, her eyes flopping to the floor where her toe scuffs against a particularly worn board— “we just kinda follow each other around then?”

His face doesn’t change, his lips remaining in the same, expressionless line— a master of one trade. “Pretty much. I follow you.”

“And make sure I don’t die.” She fills the rest in— there’s no point not to. He’s definitely seen the pictures.

Finally his expression shifts, his lips pressing together tersely. It’s an answer in it’s own right— he pities her. He shifts his weight between his feet, the floorboards creaking below him. It could just be her but the sound slices through the room— loud and unforgiving— and she can’t stop the way she flinches. He freezes, obviously noticing her reaction. She almost slaps herself. Leave it to her to make an already tense situation worse. Is it going to be this awkward the entire time?

“You’re not going to die.” His voice is softer than his boots, barely reaching her ears as it cuts through the rigid atmosphere.

She doesn’t know what to say— how do she tell her bodyguard that she doesn’t believe him? He’s supposed to be the one saving her life. It feels risky to suggest that he wouldn’t be able to do that. Like telling the universe that she wants to die. She doesn’t want to die. It’s just hard not to think about death when it follows her everywhere she goes. For twenty-four years she was just y/n. Now look at her.

The queen of death.

She doesn’t know what to say so instead she changes the subject.

“Are you hungry?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She makes grilled cheese for lunch. It is nothing special but the smell of the butter alone makes the energy she has to scrape together to make them worth it. She can’t remember the last time she cooked like this— the last time she tasted anything but freezer burnt macaroni and lumpy gravy. A couple times she almost drops the spatula, her fingers not used to having to be so coordinated, but the promise of melted cheddar has her fighting through the tremors. That and the audience of one, standing next to her with his arms crossed like he’s judging her culinary skills rather than looking for snipers.

It’s all in her head. That’s what she tells herself at least.

“You want extra cheese?”

She can feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face— is there something on her cheek? “Sure.”

It’s all in her head.

She flips the sandwiches, watching as the fluffy white bread is replaced with a perfect, golden brown toast. Her stomach growls, the sound somehow louder than the sizzling pan in her hand. The scream bubbles in her throat again— fuck. Why must everything she does be so humiliating? Why can’t she just keep it together for three days!

“Bacon?” Cue the voice crack.

“Bacon?” He repeats the word back like he hasn’t the faintest clue what a pig is— like somehow he’s a giant of a man but has never touched a piece of meat in his entire life.

Like it’s the dumbest question he has ever been asked. She swallows— hard— her cheeks pooling with heat again. She’s starting to wonder if it ever even left. If he asks she’ll blame it on the steam rising off the pan or her hoodie or both. But he won’t ask— he won’t speak until he has to. It did not take her long to gather that fact.

“You’ve never had bacon on grilled cheese?” It feels like he’s glaring at her.

It’s all in her damn head.

The floorboards groan underneath Bucky again and instead of flinching this time she tries to imagine what they might be saying. Save me, he’s crushing me! She flicks her eyes down, glancing at those military grade boots and then at her own toes, tiny and feeble compared to the size of his gear. One wrong step and her foot would likely be broken. She isn’t too worried about that though— he seems careful. His movements thus far have been slow and calculated, skirting around her and leaving at least a few feet between them at all times. Maybe that isn’t to keep from stepping on her though— maybe he just doesn’t like her. She wouldn’t blame him.

“You say it like that’s unheard of.” He doesn’t say it angrily but there’s no exuberance in his voice either— just the monotone she’s come to expect. It’s been one hour and she can already see how the next seventy-one are going to play out.

“Where I’m from it is.”

There’s a pause— the sound of butter crackling against the pan and of the steady picking up of rain against the kitchen window as it eats away at the sunshine— and she’s expecting the conversation to drop there. He isn’t there to entertain her, after all. That’s what the TV is for— what Leonardo DiCaprio is for.

But then there’s an answer. “Where are you from?”

The corner of her mouth lifts— an action so foreign she can practically see the dust shedding from her rusty smile— and she turns from the frypan long enough to meet his icy eyes and to throw out an arm, putting the front of her hoodie on display for the stoic man.

“SoCal.”

Her mouth lifts higher when Bucky raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. He could be mocking her but she chooses to believe he’s interested. She chooses to believe that they are making progress and that she won’t have to spend three days talking to the walls. She turns back to the sandwiches, flipping them for the last time before laying down a few strips of bacon next to them.

She isn’t expecting him to keep going but she also isn’t complaining when his voice tickles her ears again. “Caltech, huh? S’that Pasadena?”

She tries to keep her smile from morphing into a full blown grin— she isn’t sure if her poor lips would be able to handle it. It’s been too long since she last used her mouth this much; both for smiling and talking. “Yes sir— born and raised.”

He hums and she watches from the corner of her eye as he leans to the window, peering out of it for a moment. There’s no one out there— at least she strongly doubts there is. This place is in the middle of nowhere. She hasn’t even heard a car since the truck that dropped Bucky off drove away. It’s supposed to be peaceful. She doesn’t see it. All she sees is the dreadful but necessary silence— at least hopefully that way they’ll hear someone coming.

“How about you? Where are you from—” she flips the bacon, pushing it around the pan, her mouth watering at the thought of the greasy, gooey goodness she’s about to consume— “You mind finding some plates?”

She hears him rummage through the cupboard above his head— well, above her head, in front of his— before two mismatched pieces of dishware appear before her nose. Grabbing them, she lets the corners of her lips tick up just the tiniest bit further.

“Indiana— but spent most of my time in Brooklyn.”

“It shows.” She muses, not turning to see whether or not he appreciates the comment.

It’s true regardless— she can hear some of the mannerisms of New York in his voice. Not many. He hasn’t said enough for her to truly gauge just how strong his accent is. Still it’s there, in the gruffness of his tone, just like she’s sure the SoCal shines through in her. At least it normally does— lately she hasn’t exactly been the picture of sunshine.

She removes the sandwiches from the pan, layering them carefully onto the plates. After staring at them for a moment she settles on the one that she wants, handing Bucky the bigger of the two. It’s only fair— he could probably eat at least four. She watches as the giant gives it a glance, rolling her eyes when he hesitantly lifts it to his lips, taking the smallest of bites. Is he afraid of a sandwich?

“I promise I’m not trying to poison you— I need you to stay alive, remember?”

He only grunts.

She has to turn away when he takes a bigger bite, her eyes refusing to detach themselves from his lips. Unprofessional and inappropriate. The orphan and the bodyguard. She takes a bite of her own sandwich, shoving the thought to the back of her mind and replacing it with the heavenly taste of gooey cheese, melted butter, and greasy bacon. She doesn’t have to dissect the thoughts of her delicious food like she would have to the other ones. Cheese doesn’t require a checklist about whether or not her grief quota is up to code. Clearly it’s not— clearly she’s just sick in the head. She takes another bite.

The two eat in silence for a couple minutes, the tension in the room melting for the first time since she introduced herself. Thank gods for cheese.

After a few more moments Bucky sets his plate down, turning back to the window. At first she thinks she is hearing things— like her mind is now also playing tricks on her as well as making her feel like a terrible person— but then it registers and she has to fight back another inappropriate smile.

“You were right about the bacon.”

Maybe three days won’t be so bad.

____________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky imagine #mcu fic #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe fic #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

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touyasdoll · 3 years

Text

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

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

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

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imagines-r-s · 4 years

Text

a little reminder

requested: yes by @lokiqueenofasgard

taglist: @drewsephsmiles

[Can someone write me a JJ x read where he’s just gassing up everything she does and he’s like “yo, you need a hype man? Cause I’ll be your hype man.” And it’s just really fluffy and cute? Cause I need that rn.]

i hope you like it, i kinda switched it up just a little

a/n: in case no one has told you today, you are beautiful and you are loved. hope you all enjoy

warnings: talk of insecurity, i think that’s it?

There were moments in the day where you felt absolutely gorgeous and on top of the world not in a cocky sort of way-but just in general. Then, there were other days where you felt at the bottom of it all, the negative thoughts running through your head bringing you down. Sometimes it was after someone made a comment about you and other times it came without warning.

You had a bad habit of comparing yourself to your friends. Kiara and Sarah, who both were as beautiful as they came, perfect hair, perfect skin, and perfect body. You were sure they had their own insecurities, as everyone did, but they never made it seem like it.

As you were getting ready for the plans you had with the pogues, you couldn’t help but look at yourself in the mirror, focusing on the way the bikini looked on your body. Noticing all the small imperfections, more seemed to pop up the more you looked at yourself. Everything was so noticeable and it hurt to look at yourself, but you couldn’t peel your eyes away from the mirror.

Being too focused on the mirror, you hadn’t even realized that JJ Maybank, your best friend, had come through your front door and was on his way towards your room. You and JJ had known each other all your lives, having lived right next to each other your whole life, it was normal for him to just waltz into your house, especially considering how Luke was.

“Look at you, babes, looking as beautiful as ever,” JJ’s voice echoed through your room breaking you from your thoughts, “I feel like you only ever wear that bikini because it’s my favorite color.”

You tried to ignore the blush that spread across your face at his statement, “yes, of course. I make all of my decisions based on what you’ll think.” You said, your arms unintentionally wrapping around your torso to hide whatever you could. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Like, wrap your arms around your body and like-like try to hide it, I don’t know.”

“Oh, uh,” you stared down at the ground, letting out an uneasy laugh, “I don’t know, just habit, I guess.” JJ stayed silent for a while as you went to your dresser and pulled out your denim shorts and oversized shirt to put on over your bikini.

“Are we going to start walking to the chateau or are you going to sit there all day, Maybank?” you looked at him waiting for his answer. “Oh shit, sorry I was thinking.”

“What about?”

“Do you think you’re beautiful? Like genuinely, if someone asked your opinion on yourself, would you force out what response they want to hear, or are you going to be honest?”

“I mean, in all honesty, I think I am, but only every once in a while. And, I’d probably bullshit an answer, you know.”

“Why don’t you think you’re beautiful? You’re literally so beautiful, you do realize that right?” JJ furrowed his brow, waiting for your answer. “I mean I guess so, but have you seen other girls? Literally, I-”

“Yes, I’ve seen those other girls, but have you looked in a mirror?” JJ’s heart broke when he heard you comparing yourself to other girls and denying what he was saying, “Here’s what I’ll do, you need a hype man, and I’m here. I’m going to tell you your beautiful as many times as you need me to until you believe it.”

Before you could respond, you were already close to the chateau, “well, look who finally decided to show up,” John B said from the patio. “Someone just took forever to get ready, that’s all,” JJ replied without missing a beat, causing you to hit him upside the head.

Eventually, everyone made it onto the boat and you were on your way. Once the boat had settled, everyone started getting ready to jump off the boat, except for you. It didn’t take long for JJ to notice that you were staying behind, so he simply sat next to you. “Aren’t you going to go in?” you asked the boy beside you. “I’m not going if you aren’t, beautiful.” You simply rolled your eyes in response to your best friend, “you know, you look amazing in that swimsuit, and I really would like to see it again at some point today, y/n/n.”

You silently debated, you assumed he was just saying that, but you decided why not and got ready to jump into the water, spending the rest of the night with your friends. As the night went on, the sky grew darker, allowing the stars to be seen. Sarah started pointing out the constellations as all of you watched in awe, but while you were looking at the stars you felt a pair of eyes on you. “J, it’s rude to stare, you know.”

“Sorry, you just look stunning.”

“JJ, stop. Omg.”

“Awe, are you flustered, babes?” You simply flicked his forehead causing him to groan. You started to feel your eyes grow tired, tired from the thoughts running through your head, and everything else you did today. JJ took notice of your tiredness, telling you that if you wanted you could lay on his lap. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the noise of your friends’ conversation slowly dimming.

JJ focused on your face for a moment, confused simply by the fact that you didn’t see yourself in the way that he did. He thought that you were absolutely stunning. You reminded him of sunflowers, the bright color of yellow matching that of your personality, and the beauty of the flower matching that of everything else about you. He knew it was cheesy, he knew if he ever told anyone that they would call him out on how whipped he was for you, but he didn’t care when it came to you.

“How long have they been together?” Sarah asked John B, curious as she saw how JJ looked at you and protected you throughout the day. “Oh, they’re not together,” John B responded when he saw where she was pointing to. “Wait, seriously,” Sarah was in awe when John B simply nodded, either you two were just extremely oblivious or you were just plain dumb.

When the boat came to a stop at the dock of the chateau, JJ tried to wake you up as gently as he could, leading you towards the dock. “Here, pretty girl. Jump up,” JJ said, pointing towards his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride on the way back to the chateau. Once he got into the chateau, he set you down in the spare bedroom, telling you to come and get him when you had changed.

Once you had gotten changed into one of JJ’s shirts, you went out to the living room to get him to come back to the room the two of you had shared way too many times. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he said, kissing your forehead, before walking to the other side of the bed to lay down. Maybe JJ’s plan wasn’t that bad.

Throughout the next few days, JJ kept reminding you how beautiful you were, no matter the occasion or how bad you thought you looked at that moment. The bad thoughts in your head didn’t necessarily go away, but you were starting to feel better with yourself and how you looked.

When you were told that there was a boneyard party this Friday, Sarah made the executive decision that she would go out to the Mainland to go shopping on Thursday, have a sleepover, and then, get ready at her house Friday. You were excited, saying as you hadn’t gone shopping in forever.

When you got the text that Sarah and Kie were outside to pick you up, you quickly grabbed your bad, yelling goodbye to your mom, and running out the door. “Get in loser we’re going shopping.”

The three of you got your ferry ticket to head to the Mainland and you were on your way. Sarah and Kie took the time to look through clothing items that would have made you feel awful for wearing. The colorful crop tops would show a lot of stomach, the shorts would show your thighs and stretch marks, the shirts made your arms look weird. “y/n, you have to try this on, it would look amazing on you,” Sarah said as she held a denim dress that buttoned up in the middle, that would look amazing with a simple black shirt under it.

“Sarah, I don’t know, it’s cute, but just not my style,” you smiled sadly. “But it would look amazing on you, y/n. Plus, I know JJ wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” Kie added. You simply shot her a look, “I’ll try it on, but if I don’t like it, I’m buying more oversized shirts and jeans.”

Hesitantly, you asked one of the employees to open a fitting room for you. When you got into the dressing room, you hesitantly stripped out of your jeans and shirt, grabbing the black crop for under the dress, then putting on the denim dress. Looking in the mirror, the dress didn’t look right, it didn’t look bad and you knew it, but everything in your head was telling you that it didn’t look good in any way.

“y/n, you good in there? Whenever you’re dressed we want to see,” you heard Sarah say from outside of the dressing room. You didn’t want to step out, but you knew they would be disappointed if they didn’t see it. “Oh my god. y/n, you have to buy that. And if you won’t I will for you, you look hot as hell,” Kie said, making you smile.

Sarah and Kie both convinced you to buy the dress and shirt, saying something about wearing it to the boneyard, it was still a casual outfit, so they had a point. As you bought it, your mind immediately went to the one person who’s opinion you wanted to hear.

When the three of you got back to Sarah’s, you all decided to start watching Criminal Minds, again. “So, y/n, what is up with you and JJ?”

“Like the JJ on the show or Maybank?”

“Maybank.”

“Oh, uh, nothing. I don’t know what you mean, to be honest, we’re just friends.”

“It sure seems like more than that,” Sarah added.

“Oh no, if something happened I wouldn’t complain, but I also don’t want to mess with the dynamic that me and him have had for so long, you know?”

“Ooh, she admits it,” Kie says, giving Sarah a high five. “He’s literally in love with you, I don’t understand you two,” to which you simply denied what they said, going back to watching Criminal Minds. By the time all of you went to bed, your mind was racing. Was he actually in love with you? Why hadn’t he said anything?

Friday night came around a lot quicker than you figured it would, anxiously tapping your foot in the back of Sarah’s car, you just watched all the trees pass by until you were parking to head to the party. All of you walked towards the bonfire where the boys usually hung out, in an attempt to find them.

When you made it to the bonfire, you noticed how John B and Pope were there moving to open a space for Kie and Sarah, while you stood waiting for JJ. “Last time we saw him, he was getting drinks, so you might check over there and I’m sure you’ll find him,” Pope said, to which you politely thanked him.

Making your way towards the keg, you caught the attention of people you didn’t want to talk to. “Who knew a pogue could actually clean up well,” a random kook, that you recognized as Quinn said. “Woah, who knew a kook could wear something other than a basic ass polo and random striped shorts?” you retorted.

“I would watch your mouth, pogue,” Quinn said.

“Oh, and what are you going to do about it?” The familiar voice of the boy you were looking for said, causing you to smile. “Hey, J, he’s not worth our time. Let’s go for a walk,” you pulled on his wrist to which he simply hesitated for a moment before following you.

The two of you ended up walking near the beach, “are you ok? I heard what he said to you?” JJ asked concerned that Quinn might have hurt you. “Yeah, it’s funny what happens when you actually start believing people when they say you’re beautiful,” you said, causing him to stop walking and smirk at you.

“Man, who could have possibly told you that?”

“Hmm, I don’t recall actually, but it just stuck with me,” the both of you laughed.

“I just wanted to say you look absolutely gorgeous tonight and I’m glad what I’m doing is helping, but I plan on reminding you until we’re like 80 or something.”

“J,” he simply hummed in response,” did Kie mean it when she said you were in love with me?” JJ simply stood there, clearly debating what to do, he was starting to get flustered. “Is it a problem if it’s true? I’m not trying to mess anything up with you.”

A rush of confidence ran through you as you wrapped your arms around his neck,” well, it’s not a problem since I am too.” JJ smiled before his lips met yours softly, he pulled away only for you to kiss him again, “I love you so so much, pretty girl. I’ll be reminding you of that too, baby.”

“I’m sure you will, J. I’m sure you will.”

#JJ Imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj fluff #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj x you #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n

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coldflame96 · 3 years

Text

Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

Summary: Before his second date with Tohru, Uotani and Hanajima stage a fashion intervention

Rating: T

Also on AO3 and FF.net.

Of all the people he'd expected to run into outside Shishou's dojo, it definitely wasn't Wave Girl and the yankee.

"Yo!" Uotani saluted, Hanajima silent beside her.

He furrowed his brow. "Tohru's not here."

"Yeah, we know."

"So why are you here?"

"For you."

....That never meant anything good. And he did not like the gleam in their eye.

Were they finally going to kill him…?

He made to bolt but felt two sets of arms loop through his own, halting him in place.

"O-oi! Let go!" He squirmed.

"Nah, you're coming with us."

"Coming with you where?" His voice cracked in annoyance. "And why can't you just ask like a normal person?"

"We knew you'd say no," Hanajima finally spoke, voice as monotone as ever. "And that would simply not be an acceptable answer."

Uotani's grip tightened as she started practically dragging him away. "Come on, Carrots, this'll be over quicker the less you struggle."

He twitched in irritation. He'd wanted to spend time with Tohru before Yuki got home.

"I'm sure Tohru-kun can spare you for a few hours. You do live together after all, do you not?"

Was this girl actually a mind reader? He never could tell.

He slumped in defeat. He wasn't gonna win this, was he? And it's not like he could fight a girl, let alone two of them. He wasn’t a scumbag.

"Can you atleast tell me where we're going?"

"You'll find out when we get there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A department store," he said flatly.

"Yep!" Uotani popped the p. "We're taking you shopping, Kyon!"

"For what?"

"You and Tohru-kun have a date tomorrow, do you not?" Hanajima cocked her head.

"Yeah, why?" And then he recoiled. "Don't tell me you two are planning on coming again."

"Sorry to disappoint, but you’re on your own this time," Uotani said sarcastically. "There's only so much of the goo-goo eyes I can take."

He blushed. "Don't say it like that." But then he furrowed his brow. "And what does that have to do with why we're at a department store?"

"My, he really is quite dense, isn't he?" Hanajima said.

He twitched in annoyance which only increased as Uotani gave him a scornful look. "Seriously, Carrots? You need clothes to wear on a date."

"I have clothes at home."

"Those don't count!"

"Why don't they?"

“Because after what you wore to the zoo, we don’t trust your decisions.”

He bristled. “What was wrong with what I was wearing?! We were outside and it was comfortable!"

“You looked like you just rolled out of bed. No effort at all. You’re lucky Tohru’s nice.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, "She doesn't care what I wear.”

"You think so?" Hanajima asked him skeptically, giving him an unreadable look.

Tohru didn’t care...did she? She had worn a dress but she was always wearing stuff like that. Should he have put more effort in? Did she actually hate how he looked? Did she put her two friends up to this because she didn’t wanna tell him herself?

"Well," Uotani clapped his shoulder, interrupting his spiral, "Let's get started. I have a shift in 2 hours."

"Great," he said unenthusiastically, as the two women steered him towards the men's aisle.

He sat on the nearby bench and listened as they rustled through hangers. This brought back memories. Last time he'd come to a clothes store was when they were buying that swimsuit for Tohru. His face heated a bit at the memory. She really had been cute in it. Just wish I’d gotten to tell her that..

"Kyon, what size are you?" Uotani called, breaking him out of his daydream.

"I dunno. Large, maybe?"

A pause. "How do you not know your own size?"

"I don't buy clothes. Look, just take a guess and pick something. I don't care."

She stood in front of him, menacing. "What kind of attitude is that when we're kindly taking the time out of our day to help you?!"

"I never asked you to!" He yelled back, outraged.

"Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks they’re too good to go clothes shopping!”

"How awful," Hanajima said unhelpfully.

"It's got nothing to do with that!" Up until a couple months ago, he never expected to need any. "I just don't really buy things," he settled on saying instead. "It's a pain."

"Isn’t your family like super rich though?"

He tsked. "That's got nothing to do with me.."

"How intriguing." Hanajima put a finger to her chin. "The Sohma family remains a mystery."

They were both silent for a minute before Uotani punched her fist. "Well, it's decided then!"

"What's decided?" He asked warily, even though he knew he was gonna regret it.

"This shopping trip is on us!" And he was right.

"I'm not some charity case," he said scornfully, "and you should be saving your money for yourself."

"We're not doing this out of pity, you idiot, we're doing it because we're your friends."

He blinked. That was the first time they'd referred to him as a friend and he was...kinda touched.

"Well, thanks, but no thanks. Like I said, I have clothes at home and Tohru doesn't really worry about things like that."

"Perhaps not," Hanajima agreed, "but don't you think she would be happy knowing you wanted to look nice for her? It's only the bare minimum of what she deserves."

……………...

Goddammit.

Uotani slapped his back and he jumped. "Yeah, don't think of it as buying yourself stuff. Think of it as a gift for Tohru."

He did wanna look good for her. He wanted to give her everything he could. She deserved the world.

"Fine, you win."

Uotani grinned. "Oh this is gonna be fun!" And then she started dragging him away.

He released his arm from her grip. "Look, if we're gonna do this, then I get the final say-so. It would be stupid for you to spend money on something I hate."

Uotani blinked. "Huh. That's weirdly thoughtful of you."

“What do you mean 'weirdly'?”

"Alright, let's narrow down colors.” She completely changed the subject.

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

“What's your favorite color?"

“I said don’t-” His annoyance was replaced with confusion. His favorite color? He’d never really thought about it… “Um...Orange…?"

She made an X with her hand. "Denied."

"Why?"

"Your hair is orange. It would clash."

He furrowed his brow. "But if they're both orange-"

"Hanajima, what do you think?" She asked the girl next to her, ignoring him again.

"Black," Hanajima said passively.

"Of course you would say that," he muttered.

"No wait, she's got a point." Uotani put her hands into a square, and peered through it. "Your hair is already bright so black would actually be a really good contrast." She set her hands down. "Do you like black, Kyon?"

He owned a few black things. "I...guess?"

"Okay, so black’s an option. We're getting somewhere. What other colors? How about blue?" Blue made him think of Yuki and he wrinkled his nose. He saw Uotani snort and then say, "Okay, no blue then. Shame. I think you'd look good in a navy. Or maybe a midnight."

She was being weirdly nice to him today and it made him uneasy. But this was for Tohru, right? Would Tohru like blue? She wore blue sometimes, so maybe she would.

"I guess…" he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, "a darker blue would be okay."

“That’s the spirit!” She slung an arm over his shoulders that he had to shrug off. Hanajima was already sifting through racks.

“What about this?” She held up what looked like a conservative turtleneck sweater.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Uotani asked defensively. “It would make you look artsy.”

“I’m not ‘artsy’ and when have I ever worn anything like that?”

“Are you dumb? The point of this is to find things you wouldn’t wear normally. Because, y’know, you wanna actually look good for once”

They were really testing his patience. And he didn’t have a lot to begin with. “Are you dumb? It’s the middle of summer!” He fired back. “Plus, I hate collars. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.”

“Shall we test that theory?” Hanajima asked, an evil look in her eye.

“Please don’t.”

Uotani looked like she just had a revelation. “Huh. So is that why you don’t wear a tie with your uniform? Because you hate collars?”

“I don’t really like anything around my neck.”

“Wow. And here I thought you were just going for the ‘cool delinquent’ look.”

“I’m not you.”

“Hah?!” She glared at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean? You wanna fight or somethin’?”

He wasn’t gonna rise to that bait. “I don’t fight girls and you’re just proving my point.”

“Arisa,” Hanajima called, “We’re running out of time.”

Uotani blinked. “Oh, right.” And then like nothing happened, she mumbled, “So no collars then. Got it.”

And then she picked up what looked like a shirt that could fit a child. “What about this?”

“Now you’re just screwing with me.”

“Aww, c’mon, it could be like a crop top. You’re like a black belt or whatever, right?” She made to jab his side and he dodged. “You gotta have some muscle. If you show off some ab, you might get lucky.”

His face heated up. “Oi, stop saying things like that in public! You really have no shame at all, do you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Y’know for someone who apparently never goes shopping, you’re a real pain in the ass to buy clothes for.”

“Good,” he responded sarcastically, “Can I leave then?”

She grabbed his sleeve to keep him in place. “Yeah, no. But nice try though.”

“Nothing here is suitable,” Hanajima said matter of factly. “We should go to a different section. Perhaps the one over there?” And she pointed towards the right corner, where he saw an assortment of mannequins with crisp button-downs on display.

Uotani nodded. “Good call!” And then she tugged on his sleeve like he was an unruly child. “C’mon, Kyon, let’s go.”

He followed after in defeat. He could be pretending to do his homework with his girlfriend right now..

Uotani grabbed what looked like a black button down and held it up against him. “This could be nice.”

“I have a black shirt like that at home,” he said, hoping maybe that could get him out of this.

She curled her lip in disgust. “This isn’t black, Kyon, this is midnight blue.”

He furrowed his brow. “What the hell’s the difference? It looks black to me.”

“Ugh, you really don’t know anything about clothes, do you?”

“I told you I didn’t!”

“Disgraceful,” Hanajima said disdainfully from behind. “How shameless of you to get this color confused for black.”

Why is she acting like I insulted her, personally?

“I do feel insulted,” she responded.

He jolted. “Quit doing that!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After getting a bundle of clothes shoved in his arms and essentially pushed into a dressing room with a “Kyon, try this on”, he’s just been sitting in this stall for the past 10 or so minutes. It wasn’t ideal, but atleast it was peaceful. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d really bought clothes for himself like this. He would normally just pick it from the rack and leave.

He checked himself out in the mirror. It was...not bad, actually, but he couldn‘t admit that or he would never hear the end of it. That button down from earlier that they swore was blue (it looked black to him), a light gray V-neck and some tan pants (what’d they call it? Corduroy?) that were a bit tighter than he was used to, but not unbearable.

“Oi!” He heard Uotani call from outside obnoxiously. “Are you dead in there?”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. He could just ignore her, but she would probably barge in here and drag him out and he wanted to keep whatever tiny bit of dignity he had left.

He slumped through the curtains. They both just stared at him, without saying anything, and it made him wanna crawl out of his skin. Uotani circled around him like he was a trophy on display and then started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.

She circled around him again, narrowing her eyes and then whistled. “Wow. We should’ve done this a long time ago. Hanajima, what do you think?”

“Indeed. I can almost see the appeal.”

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, glad I got your approval I guess-” and then his brain caught up. “Wait.” He glared at Hanajima. “What do you mean ‘almost’?”

She gave him a blank stare. “Which part was confusing?”

“What do you care anyway?” Uotani chimed in before he could retort, “It’s not like you’re dating us.”

“Thank God for that,” he muttered.

Uotani gave him a flat look, but thankfully, didn’t hit him. “Well, that outfit’s a winner. Let’s go find some more.”

What. “More?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, you can’t live with only one outfit, Kyon.”

He stood in front of her, blocking the way. “No way, I only agreed to the one. And besides, didn’t you say you had a shift? We’ve already been here for over an hour.”

She shrugged, easily walking by him. “True, but now that we’ve narrowed down what you’d actually wear, it should be easy enough to find things that are similar.”

He grimaced. “Look, I don’t need you to-”

“Will you stop fretting?” She cut him off. “Geez, you’re almost as bad as Tohru. Just let us do something nice for you.”

He didn’t wanna have to owe any favors to these people.

“We don’t have any ulterior motives if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hanajima said, in response to his thoughts.

“Seriously, stop doing that,” he groaned, “It’s creepy as hell.”

This was a losing battle. He sighed and just followed them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He heard whispering behind him and out of the corner of his eye, saw a group of girls all whispering and giggling to each other.

“C’mon, go talk to him,” he heard one whisper.

“No, I can’t,” he heard another one, “What if one of those girls is his girlfriend?”

He glowered at that. Why did people just assume things like that? It pissed him off.

“Oi,” he heard Uotani next to him, “Those hot girls over there are checking you out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, they’ve been there for like 5 minutes. So?” Since when has he ever cared about that?

She gave him a surprised look. Did she think he hadn’t noticed?

“Huh. You really don’t have eyes for anyone except Tohru, do you?” He thought that was obvious. “Hmm, well, that’s good. Atleast we don’t have to worry about you cheating.”

He bristled. “You have some nerve! I would never do that.”

“Correct,” Hanajima agreed, and then she got a sinister look. “Because if you did, terrible things might happen to you.”

He blanched. “I get it. Please stay away from me.”

He thought they would go their separate ways after that, but they insisted on walking him home.

“Why are you coming?”

“Hmm? What’s that tone?” Uotani started grabbing his face, squeezing it. “We just wanna make sure no one tries to kidnap that pretty face.”

He roughly pushed her arm away. “Get off me! And I don’t need two girls to protect me!”

“Then how about just allowing us to accompany you so that we might say hi to Tohru-kun?” Hanajima asked.

“I-” He sighed, “Whatever, do what you want I guess.”

It was when they came inside, he saw Tohru sitting at the table, doing what looked like homework.

“Oh! Kyo-kun!” She got up to grab his shirt around his waist. “Kunimitsu-san said you left a while ago so I was starting to get worried.” And then she seemed to notice the two other people behind him. “Uo-chan? Hana-chan? What’s going on?”

“Someone was trying to kidnap Kyon so we rescued him.”

Tohru paled. “Heh? Kidnap?”

“Don’t lie to her, you’re gonna freak her out.” And then he flatly said, “They hijacked me.”

“Who’s lying now?” Uotani made to chop him in the head, but he dodged. “We took your boyfriend on a little shopping trip.” And then she winked which made him reassess his ‘no hitting girls’ policy. “You’re welcome.”

Tohru just furrowed her brow in confusion which was really fucking adorable and he had to resist every urge in his body to not kiss her. Not in front of those two. “Um...shopping trip for what?”

“Well, our job is done!” She patted him on the back. Hard . “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Hanajima actually smiled. “Have fun tomorrow, Tohru-kun.”

Tohru lit up, confusion over the shopping trip forgotten. “Oh, thank you!”

And just as suddenly as they had appeared in front of him earlier, they were gone, and he slumped. Those two were exhausting.

“Um, Kyo-kun?” He heard and saw that she looked a bit worried. “Did you guys...get along okay?”

Well, he made it back alive and intact so… “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh, good. What did you talk about?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much.” And then seeing his opportunity, he smirked. “They told me how you spilled on what a terrible boyfriend I am.”

“Heh?!” Her face went red as a firetruck and she started babbling, “I didn’t-I wouldn’t- um- please believe me I-”

She is so cute. He bent down to kiss her nose. “Calm down, I was kidding.”

She closed her mouth, but her face was still beet red. “You’re always teasing me,” she pouted.

“That’s because it’s easy,” he patted her head, “And you like it, don’t you?”

She averted her eyes out of embarrassment, which only made his own grin wider. She cleared her throat. “That’s a big shopping bag.”

“Hmm?” And then looked down at the bag he was still holding, full of a few different outfits that those two women had strongarmed him into. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“What’s in it?”

His first urge was to just show her since she asked, but something held him back. He had gone on that nightmare, allowed Uotani and Hanajima to treat him like their own personal toy...he wasn’t gonna let that go to waste. He was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

“Can’t tell you,” he said to her look of curiosity. “It’s a surprise.”

“Surprise, huh?” she mumbled to herself, and he braced himself when he saw the gleam in her eyes.

“Ha!” she shouted, as she swiped for the bag only to be met with air as he switched it to the other hand. Her look of confusion was precious.

He chuckled, “You didn’t actually think you were being sneaky, did you?”

She huffed in defeat and he would always cherish seeing this part of her. The childish part. “Will I get to see one day?”

“Yep. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she perked up. “Sounds exciting.” Her eyes widened as she looked at something behind him. “Oh my gosh, it’s 6 already? I gotta start dinner.”

“Did you want help?” he offered. Any time spent with her was worth it.

She grinned. “Nope! I think you would just be more of a distraction actually. I can handle it.”

He froze, feeling warm all of a sudden. A...distraction? Was she...hitting on him?

“Oi, you can’t just say things like that so casually.” It’s not good for my heart.

She cocked her head innocently. A little too innocently. “Huh? What do you mean?”

She was definitely baiting him...and he so badly wanted to go for it, but Shigure was probably in his room listening like the creep he was and Rat Boy would be home any second if he wasn’t already.

“Nevermind,” he sighed out, “I’m gonna go upstairs.”

“Oh, okay.” And then she pecked his cheek. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, his face still burning.

In the two years he’s known her, he would’ve never pegged her as such a flirt.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t into it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He assessed himself in the mirror critically. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he wasn’t bad-looking, but was this really the kind of look Tohru would be into? What if he went through that shopping trip of Hell just for her to tell him it never mattered?

A light knock on the door. “Kyo-kun, I’m heading downstairs,” came her sweet, muffled voice.

He sighed. Why was he acting like a scared little kid anyway? It wasn’t like this was their first date. And they’d already agreed to spend their lives together. He had nothing to worry about, not with her, even though there was a tiny part that kept reminding him he didn’t deserve her in the first place.

He opened the door to find the hallway blissfully empty. Shigure was probably at the main estate doing god knows what (and he really didn’t wanna know) and Yuki was at his girlfriend's place...or something. It really wasn’t his job to keep track of them.

He saw her standing by the front door and felt his breath leave him. She was wearing a dress he’d never seen before (was it new?); it was a light pink and modest, but her shoulders were completely exposed, the usual sleeves resting over her upper arms. His eyes wandered below the shoulders, noting how it curved around her chest and conformed to her waist, ending just above her knees, leaving most of her smooth, fair skin on display. Damn, she’s so-

“Kyo-kun, are you alright?”

“That dress…” was all he managed to say. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh! Um- Uo-chan and Hana-chan got it for me as a birthday present.” Those two bought her this? Tohru looked away shyly. “Do you like it? I thought it might be too much but they were insistent and-”

He surged forward to kiss her to cut her off. He broke away quickly before it could get heated, and stroked her lips with his thumb. “You’re really beautiful.”

Her face went so red he thought she would combust and paired with that dress, it was so, so endearing and he was half-tempted to just say ‘fuck the date’ and keep her here while they were alone.

She pushed his face away gently, trying to hide her own. “D-Don’t look at me like that while being so nice. You’ll make me not want to leave.”

Oh really?

“Hmm?” he teased, “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” she lied. But then she recovered, though her cheeks were still pink. “You look really handsome in this, Kyo-kun. Is this what you were doing with Uo-chan and Hana-chan?”

“Something like that.” And then he smirked. “What, are you saying I’m not handsome normally?”

“What? No, of course not! You always are! What I meant was-”

He set his fist on her hair gently. “It’s fine, dummy, I’m just teasing.” Hearing her confirm it with no hesitation did make something warm spark in his chest though.

She didn’t respond and when he looked down, he saw her eyes roving up his body. Very slowly. And that warm feeling turned into something hot.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank Uo-chan and Hana-chan later, won’t I?” she said, her voice low and breathy.

“I guess we both do.” He grabbed her hand, kissing the tips of her fingers lightly, watching as her dark eyes stayed fixated. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” she whispered and as he opened the door for her, allowing her to step in front of him, he was starting to think he owed those two women a favor after all.

Maybe he could give them flowers or something..

#kyoru #fruits basket #kyo sohma #arisa uotani #saki hanajima #tohru honda

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val-aquenta · 3 years

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Ok so I got asked to talk about sexism in Star Wars. Specifically the judgement from fans being harsher for female characters as opposed by their male counterparts.

I’m often hesitant to talk about sexism in general because I’m not super well-versed on this topic despite being a woman myself lol. And I’m also hesitant to talk about it in relation to Star Wars because the fandom is so very sexist, but I’ll give it a shot.

So the big issue is pretty obvious in the sequel trilogy. Rey was, and still is, heavily judged for a multiple things that are ignored for male characters. Off the top of my head, I can think of the whole training thing. Many people say that Rey doesn’t really do any training, meaning she is undeserving of any of the powers she has. While, to a degree, I agree here. (The whole force healing thing was pulled out of thin fucking air ok) I don’t think she deosn’t do training. She knows how to fight with a staff, it’s demonstrated. Despite the fact that a lightsaber is different, the skills do translate over, so it makes sense that Rey is able to weild a lightsaber as good as she handles a staff, which she is hown to be really comfortable with. Main problem is that lots of folks are mad about this, but fail to see similar things happening with otehr characters who are male. Honestly, I see both sides of the story. I think that yes, Rey knows how to weild a lightsaber from her staff, it makes sense. I’m not greatly versed in the OT (I mainly stick to prequel era garbage. I love my Jedi ok) but I do recall that Luk loses his first fight with Vader because he isn’t trained well enough. Similar to that, Anakin loses a hand on the first fight we see with him a decade after he begun training, but imo that was about him being reckless not untrained. Anywas, my point is Rey can weild a lightsaber well because of her staff fighting, and that completely makes sense. what doesn’t make sense is the amount of fucking hate she gets for this. The problem is peopl nitpick so so fucking much at Rey, but then they fail to do the same to male characters who got hrough similar shit. There is this double standard in that men can learn at very fast rates and there be no issue bu god forbid a woman do the same.

Next part is about Luminara lol. I fucking love her ok. So, there are plenty of characters who are reserved in Star Wars. Obi-Wan is pretty reserved especiall in tcw, Cody and Fox are both reserved. Mace Windu as well is reserved when he has to be, yet they are never called out for it, or they very rarely are. However, when a female character is reserved, suddenly they’re eMoTIoNleSs. For example. Cody is beloved despite seeming pretty reserved (imo especially pre s7) and many people really love Cody. I do too. Obi-Wan as well is one of my favourite characters despite his reserved and calm nature, and especially in tcw for some reason. One of the reasons I love him is that he isn’t like a volcano of emotion like Anakin is, and knows to control himself lest he become a threat to his friends. This is one of the reasons I love Luminara and Shaak Ti, because it is obvious that they do care, but they know that they can not get carried away with it. It’s why I love Jedi traditions/philosophy. Controlling oneself is extrememly important, and I love that there is a group of people who are like that when it’s so often shown that being overly emotional is good. However, for some reason, a lot of people really hate Luminara and blame lots of dumb shit on her. I would probably say a lot of it is sexism because women are ‘meant’ to be ‘emotional creatures’ so when a character breaks that mold and doesn’t fall apart at the idea of possibly losing someone they love, they’re villified for it. And my thing is, why do so many people hate Luminara for being reserved and knowing that being overly emotional is not the best answer, when they like other characters because they’re reserved. Big example is Obi-Wan as he is one of the most liked characters (I think. Lol I’m biased) But yeah. he’s pretty stoic, but no one says shit about him that much, but god fucking forbid Luminara be the same.

And kind of going off on a tangent here, but the sexualisation of women in Star Wars. Yikes. Like of course Padmè had to wear an artuflly ripped crop top version of her skintight white thing at Geonosis. Of course. And putting a 14 year old Ahsoka in a tube top and leggings....? HUH? Kinda yikes. I get not making a flowy nun outfit or whatever, but Obi-Wan isn’t wearing a tube top thing, is he? They could have given Ahsok cool robes like Shaak Ti or Luminara but no... they’re going to give her some ridiculous skintight thing. Anyways yeah. Also the amount of nitpicking over a character is always on a character who is female of a POC or something like that. I don’t see people nitpicking about shit for Kylo Ren, but of course y’all hate Rey for no reason other than existing.

So... yeah. I hope I was able to communicate my thoughts properly? If you need clarification, just ask Sorry if it’s salty, but yeah.

@jedimasterbailey hope this was good? I’m not super good at articulating my thoughts, but here it is.

#ask game #long post #Luminara Unduli #shaak ti #rey

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 35

First

Ladybug sighed as she fell back on her bed with a cup of water instead of coffee for once.

Not because she wasn’t going to stay up or anything, it was already around 3 what’s the point of sleeping at that point, but because she’d cried herself out with Chat. She did little curl-ups occasionally so she could actually swallow. (Should she just sit up and make things easier on herself? Yes. Will she? No.)

Ugh. Stupid emotions. How was she supposed to kill Chat now? When she’d thought it was just because he’d needed a distraction she’d been able to feel angry because there were plenty of ways to do that without getting her involved, but now that she knew it was also because he related and didn’t want her to suffer the same way he did…

She groaned and threw her now-empty plastic cup at the wall. It bounced off and then rolled across the ground lamely. Stupid cup. Stupid feelings.

She clicked her tongue irritably and glared at the ceiling.

Her trap door opened and she blinked, looking over to see… Chloe?

“Aren’t you usually asleep right now?”

“I was,” said Chloe, rubbing her eyes with a scowl. She pulled off her mask to actually get the desired effect, and then lazily tossed it onto a chair. She walked over and picked up the cup. “This woke me up.”

A blush spread across her face. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s too late, now,” said Chloe with a vague wave of her hand. She set the cup down on a rare empty surface and then took a seat on the bed beside her. “So, how’d things go with Chat?”

“... good,” said Ladybug, pulling her gaze back to the ceiling. “I feel like an asshole, now.”

“Kinda were one.”

“Fuck you.”

She winked. “I mean, if you’re offering, --.”

She pushed her off the bed and Chloe laughed as she hit the floor. Ladybug found that she was smiling despite herself and she had to school her expression back into a scowl. Chloe stood back up and stretched, then attempted to sit back down on the bed. She went starfish to prevent this.

Chloe scoffed. “Really?”

“You’ve lost bed privileges.”

“Hm,” she said, unimpressed.

Ladybug clicked her tongue once but pulled her knees up to let her sit at the end of the bed.

“Anyways, have you got everything out of your system?”

She nodded slightly, and then yawned into her hand. Her choice of water was beginning to catch up to her. Damn.

Chloe smiled. “Good. What’re you going to do about your identity, now?”

“Probably ignore the video. People will either think it was a fluke or just kinda forget about it. Hopefully.”

The smile disappeared and the blonde scrutinized her for a few moments. “You’re really dumb for a smart person, you know that?” Suddenly, her face lit up again. “Actually, that reminds me of something.”

Ladybug watched in confused silence as she pulled out her phone and pushed a few buttons.

And then her phone screen lit up. She blinked and picked it up.

TikTok?

She clicked the notification and pulled up the new video on Chloe’s account.

It showed Carapace, Ladybug, and Rena in the living room. None of them seemed completely there in one way or another, and the coffee machine had been dragged out to sit on the table for easy access.

Ladybug was practically vibrating on the couch, struggling to bring a cup of coffee to her lips without spilling any.

Carapace was laying across the armchair that was pretty much his at this point, eyes glazed over.

Rena was apparently giving a lecture… or, at least, that’s what she thought she was doing. She was babbling, mostly incoherent, pointing at the conspiracy board -- this must have been taken before Hawkmoth had come and destroyed the house -- and occasionally moving on to the next point.

It was unclear whether Carapace and Ladybug actually understood what she was saying somehow because their mutual sleep-deprived-ness made them all get on the same wavelength (think how babies understand each other despite speaking no real words) or were just nodding along but, either way, Rena definitely had their attention.

Rena pointed very aggressively and the camera zoomed in on the words ‘Rich Bitch’. Ladybug raised her hand and said something in the weird Simlish they had managed to create. The fox holder nodded thoughtfully and then, after procuring a marker, she changed the word ‘Bitch’ to ‘Has anyone asked Hawkmoth for their preferred pronouns?’.

Carapace said something.

Rena crossed that out and then wrote ‘Fuckface McPeopleKiller’.

The three nodded at this and they went back to the lecture.

“What the heck?” Whispered a voice. The camera panned to where Chat was standing in the doorway with a confused and slightly concerned expression.

Then it panned again to Chloe, who looked almost bored. “The smartest of Paris’s heroes, everyone.”

The video ended.

Ladybug glared at Chloe. “C’mon, really?”

“Chat’s right, you should at least be honest that it’s not you. Film a video about it, talk about it and address it, then continue what you’re doing. At least then you won’t have to stress out as much about messing up.”

She crossed her arms.

“Also, I said that I was going to upload a video when someone messed up and revealed the truth. Someone did that, so I did. I’m a woman of my word.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Mhmm.”

There was a silent staredown that lasted a whole five seconds before Ladybug broke eye contact to glare at the ceiling.

She clicked her tongue. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No. And I’m sure Carapace would prefer it, too, since he won’t have to edit around your actual personality anymore.”

For whatever reason, Ladybug wasn’t as angry as she should have been. Maybe she was just tired from the lack of coffee, maybe the stuff with Chat had been enough for her to relax for the time being, or maybe it was because it was Chloe of all people. Who knows. Certainly not her.

“Fiiiiiine,” she groaned. She shooed her out and told her to go to sleep. Then she picked up her phone.

The video opened up relatively close to her face.

“Hello, everyone! It’s me! Different content than usual, but it’ll go back to normal tomorrow.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Right, if you’re not Parisian, you probably don’t know but I… do cosplay.” She stepped back to reveal her outfit. “I made this, it’s a spin on a magical girl. Original character. Cool, right?”

“Anyways, that’s really all you’ll care about, I think. The rest of the video won’t make much sense to you. You can leave.”

She bobbed her head absently for a few moments, as if listening to a song, and then shrugged. “Are they gone now? Probably. Anyways, a few of you might have noticed that my friends have uploaded some content that… shows me acting in a way you’re not used to, and I’m here to address it.”

“Firstly, yes, I behave differently at home than I do in front of you guys. I have a persona that I lean into for work. The others do the same. Don’t be surprised if you see us acting differently in videos than we do while on the job.”

“Secondly, I actually don’t dress like this all the time.” She snapped and the video cut, and suddenly she was wearing a light pink crop top and pale jeans. She smiled and held up a peace sign to the camera. “I wear things other than red and black! Stunning, I know. Do wear the colors pretty often, though, they compliment my skin tone.”

“Thirdly… a lot of you guessed it, but I figured I’d confirm it since I’m being honest with you guys today.” She blushed a little and brought her legs up to show off her cuffed jeans. “I’m bi.”

“And, lastly, I swear. A lot. Easier to express myself that way.”

“Think that’s all you guys will really care about.”

There was about a second where she considered that, then shrugged.

“Right, you’re all probably wondering what’ll happen now. Well, nothing will change for you guys. This account won’t be changing and neither will the way I act in public. I just came here to publicly address everything because I didn’t want to be hounded by the media about it.”

She flashed finger guns at the camera. “Right. Bye!”

Taglist

@iidiotkid @nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali @ultimatetornshipper

#a miraculous tiktok account #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #carapace #nino lahiffe #rena rouge #alya cesaire #chat noir #adrien agreste #miraculous fic #ml fic #mlb #miraculous team #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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thorniest-rose · 3 years

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Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey

tagged by: @alienfuckeronmain @mochisquish @trillgutterbug & @ceruleangold (thank you for all the tags!!!!)

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?: Ahhhh I feel great! I I didn’t realise just how much I’d get into Cobra Kai when @pohjanneito gently encouraged me to start watching it, but the weirdly heated dynamic between Johnny and Daniel hooked me so fast. The history, the obsession, the violent passion, it’s all there. Plus I’m drowning in various WIPs, so that’s when I know I’m in the midst of a hyperfixation because I write like a little machine and ignore everything else in my life. I’ve also managed to get friends into CK through my sheer intensity for it.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?: NO! I never watched TKK when I was younger, I don’t think. I was big into fantasy and Disney as a little girl, and I didn’t really stray far from that. Though it’s a shame because I think I would have loved it if I had watched it. I would have fallen in love with Daniel and really rooted for him. I moved around a lot as a kid because of my dad’s job, so I think his loneliness and perpetual status as the new kid in town would have struck a deep chord with me.

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character: Ah this is so difficult because if we’re talking TKK then it’s Daniel but if we’re talking CK then it’s Johnny, a.k.a my trash god Apollo!! He’s the reason I got so into CK in the first place. I love how ridiculous he is, how behind the times, how damaged, how much he wants to be a better person. He’s really the heart of the show for me. I’ve said this before but I love that Johnny shows that you can start over at any time of your life. And yes he still stumbles, he still hurts people, he still makes mistakes, but he doesn’t stop trying. And the way he opens himself up to people after numbing himself for years is incredibly touching to watch.

Favorite ship: Lawrusso always and forever. I don’t even think I ship anyone else... Unless it’s Silverusso, which can be interesting and thorny when done right.

Underrated character: Bobby Brown ❤ I actually think there’s a lot of love for Bobby in the fandom, I just wish we had so much more of him. He’s sweet, loyal, strong, and doesn’t take any shit. He also isn’t as toxic as some of the other boys, and is genuinely sorry for hurting Daniel, so that shows he has a kind heart too. Plus I love that Johnny had a friend growing up who genuinely cared for him and looked out for him. All the CK boys are ride or die of course, but Bobby really earns his status as the best friend.

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol): ermmm not a romantic ship, but I love the idea of Daniel and Ali being platonic soulmates... in my fic “ace of hearts” this is how I write their relationship, not actually as a romantic one, but as a strong platonic one where they understand each other and have a natural kinship. Platonic relationships can be just as strong as romantic ones, and that’s how I like to read into their dynamic.

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?: No idea, SORRY.

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?: Oh my goddd, this is so difficult because movie Daniel is such an accidental little fashionista at times. It probably has to be his first outfit in TKK (the blue jeans with the blue tank) because light blue looks so good against his skin tone. That OR the iconic blank tank with the shirt hanging off his shoulders, and the jeans and sandals. I love every outfit where he wears a tank top and shows off his slutty shoulders basically.

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver: I CAN’T DO THIS BECAUSE TERRY *IS* THE ONE I WANT TO SEE. I can’t wait until he waltzes back in, all weirdly intense and handsome and white-haired, and immediately starts calling Daniel “Danny” like a stalkery ex, and Johnny goes mad with jealousy. End scene.

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: Wah so every scene with Johnny and Daniel in TKK, but it’s probably the beach scene where Johnny and Daniel get into their first altercation because it informs the highly intense, push-pull, obsessive relationship they have in CK. That, or the scene from the rehearsal film on youtube where Johnny says he torments Daniel and beats him up because he likes it. I mean, hello?? Nothing encapsulates his destructive fixation with Daniel more than this scene! I’m so mad this didn’t make it into the final film but I’m so glad we at least have it in this form!

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: I actually had completely forgotten who this was until I googled it so I think that answers this DJDJD 🙈

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?: Oh god, it would have to be the Cobra Kai. I MEAN, it’s Johnny and I’d be in love with him so ddkdkd no contest!! I’d probably be far too soft for Cobra Kai and get shouted at a lot, but I’d get fully indoctrinated, to the point of making lots of cute merch, like crop tops with the CK logo on, and running all the social media accounts where I'd call the Topanga and Miyagi-do students big babies, and probably get into a ton of karate fights with other girls at the mall. Plus I’d probably think Daniel was a rich jerk and would hate him for looking down on Johnny haha.

What’s your training montage song?: Haha so it would probably have to be Gimme More by Britney Spears. I work out a lot to this song and it gets me so pumped!!!

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?: WAH so not a current show but I always have these daydreams about TKK-era Daniel being a boy slayer in the BTVS universe, and Johnny being his hot but kinda useless jock boyfriend. Maybe there could be a special of CK where Daniel is this older slayer and his students are potential slayers he’s training?? And then it all turns out to be a fever dream or something. I don’t KNOW. Just give me Daniel as a slayer please!!

As a bonus, see this pic @captain-idgie drew of me as a Miyagi-do student! (Mack insists I'd be too soft for Cobra Kai, sigh.) This really shows how obsessed I am with CK 💙

#i wrote so so much sorry dksks #i didn't tag anyone but please do this if you haven't!#cobra kai

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spooky-activity · 4 years

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Just a little update on Cassandratopia 2: Electric Boogaloo (Or as it stands in my Google Docs folder rn, A Helping Hand). I’ll put it under the cut cuz it’s kinda long.

I just wanted to say that I’m still planning on actually doing it, despite all evidence to the contrary lol

I did Cassandratopia in a haze of graduating from college(where I was studying animation) and just having ended my first dnd campaign as a dungeon master (which went 3 years!). I was fishing around for internships, but since the pandemic had just kicked off I wasn’t having much luck. So I had a lot of creative energy that wasn’t getting channeled anywhere, and a lot of free time when I wasn’t applying to places. Which is how I did 4 pages a day several times per week. Which was insane.

As it stands, I’m running 2 dnd campaigns(one meets weekly, the other every other week or so), and just scored a full-time internship at a video game company! The campaigns I’m running are a homebrew open world, which, for those of you who aren’t too familiar with dnd, is a metric fuckton of work to prep for each session because I have no idea what my insane friends and siblings are going to try and do every time we play.

Anyways all this to say that my storytelling itch is kinda. Sufficiently getting scratched atm and I have a lot less free time. I’m still plucking away at the setting/refining the story of A Helping Hand, but it’s largely on the backburner. Cassandratopia was also, uh, like the first story I’ve ever told in any sort of format besides the give-and-take of dnd, so... I’m not used to having so much control over the narrative. Oddly. I’ve never thought of myself as much of a writer of stories; my main focus is character animation, so someone else is usually writing the stories I’m telling anyways, which is super cool with me. Honestly I’m surprising myself with how much I want to tell this story, which is why I’m still sure I’m doing it. Just. Slower. Than Cassandratopia got done.

But I’ll share a bit of the lore I’ve been cooking up! Specifically about Zhan Tiri and The Drops. The story will be told in an extremely dnd type setting, because that’s the kind of narrative I’ve told before and am comfortable telling: hard magic rules, neat fights, scary monsters, a dash of eldritch horror, and huge emphasis being put on magical artifacts(kinda like in the show!). Here’s some stuff that’s basically locked-in.

Zhan Tiri

Zhan Tiri is one of the many Demon Lords of the Abyss. She’s kind of a mashup of two of my favorite Demon Lords, Zuggtmoy, the Lady of Rot and Decay, and Pale Night, the Mother of Demons and Queen of the Night(with just a dash of Hannibal Lecter because who doesn’t like helpful, polite, manipulative-ass bitches lksjflkja;fj). Her domain sits almost exactly between the Sundrop and Moonstone, largely being the new growth that comes from death, and the endless cycle of life and death. Places where her influence is strongest includes the cracks in... Well anywhere really, from society to the planet’s shell, where metaphorical or physical rot could grow; musty, mostly ignored places where something could fester. Iconography related to her would include endless mazes, fungi, grasping skeletal hands, and rotting/blooming corpses. Her spores can animate corpses, which she likes to use as mindless minions when she doesn’t feel like sending one of her Acolytes. She shares a scrap of her power with those few mortals she likes. She appreciates ambition and the desire to Grow to be bigger than what you were to start with, as those are qualities she herself possesses.

Incredibly intelligent and merciless to those she deems her enemies, her main thing is pulling the strings from the shadows and seeing just how far she can push people to act with as little prompting from her as possible. She does, however, have the power to kinda bulldoze her way through things if she needs to, but she doesn’t like to because where’s the fun in that?

She first gained interest in the Material Plane when a Wizard with too much hubris from said Material Plane(Named Demanitus) contacted her trying to figure out more information about The Drops and how to control them. After indulging him for a bit, she started preparing to make a summer home on the Material Plane because it’s New and Fun here and Wow These Mortals are Really Fun to Mess With! And some of them she even genuinely liked! Demanitus then realized his mistake and locked her away in Pandemonium for what he hoped was forever, but turned out to be only around 1,000 years, due to the efforts of her followers. Her little stint in Pandemonium magnified the more... Chaotic aspects of her personality, so now she wants to cover the Material Plane in blooming mazes of fungal crops that she can break people with at her leisure.

The Drops

The drops are two semi-sentient pieces of one original artifact, whose original purpose was to be a tool of creation for the gods. Which, through some great calamity(still deciding that one), got sundered and settled into the two basic aspects of creation: the nearly unlimited well of life-energy which organizes stardust into planets, cabbages, and kings, and the “you gotta crack a few eggs to get an omlette” destructive force which breaks down what the sundrop makes so that it can make more.

The main goal of the drops is to reunite. I would want to as well if I was ripped in half! This manifests as a... General tug in the direction of the other drop. A desire in the host to Go That Way. It can be resisted, and even ignored for a bit, but it’s always there. Like being hungry if starving wasn’t a danger. Just a bit uncomfortable if you aren’t going That Way, but ignorable.

Both drops generally try to be as helpful to their wielder as possible, as originally they were a tool of creation to the gods. They are innately obliging. They’re also REALLY UNSAFE FOR MORTALS TO BE MESSING WITH. The Sundrop is a little safer because the most it can do is kinda. Overcharge you into something distinctly not human but still alive, and King Fredrick was lucky he made the Sundrop into soup before giving it to Arianna. But King Edmund got his wholeass arm blasted off for touching the Moonstone.

The Sundrop

Best I could whittle it down, the Sundrop has power over life energy, like the sun’s light. It also has power over the energy derived from geothermal activities, so deep sea creatures Are Not Immune To The Sundrop, which was a funny thought that crossed my mind that they could be, but that will likely never come up anyways salkdjf;ljsf It is, in its basest form, Growth and Progress.

It’s a little sentient, but very much entrenches itself into whoever is holding it at the time. Like another mind looking through your eyes and seeing what you see/feeling what you feel while still retaining a bit of individuality from the host. It’s not... Parasitic because it’s in its nature to give, but it’s generally pretty firmly attached to whoever is holding it until they die( which isn’t usually for a WHILE. It ’infects’ a new host when one dies, usually a plant near their grave...) or until a solar eclipse. It wants what they want, but it’s very fussy so they have to ask it for power exactly correctly(like singing an incantation every time you want to heal someone, or doing a Ritual involving lots of very specific ingredients, Celestial Alignments, and Secret Words) or it won’t listen, like an orchid dying if the ph balance is off in the soil by a little bit. But it’s generally pretty intuitive to use, because it wants what you want and (as long as you ask right) is willing to help.

Anyways basically under the influence of the Sundrop you get a few things:

Basically limitless energy coursing through your body while you’re in a place with sunlight, which equates to rapid healing, mostly, because every cell in your body is being supercharged with free energy. Never getting exhausted in direct sunlight. (If Rapunzel lived in a place that was sunny 24/7 like near one of the poles she wouldn’t have to sleep like. until it started to get dark in the opposite half of the year. Then she’d have to sleep like a regular human being)

You stay at your prime, or if you are past it, revert to your prime. Someone who is holding the Sundrop, or who has regular access to the Sundrop’s magic can’t die of old age or illness. They have to be hurt beyond the Sundrop’s ability to heal or have it taken away from them.

The ability to share this rapid healing with others (if you ask right)

The ability to freely draw on the raw, near-limitless energy of the sun to shape into things like cool-looking energy blasts (only if you ask right)

The Moonstone

The moonstone has powers over varying levels of destruction: from destroying things by ripping them apart/ to Not Letting Things Be Destroyed(also known as protecting) by freezing them in indestructible rock. Like the moon, it can ‘reflect’ a bit of the sundrop’s power, so it can kinda provide energy, albeit a lot less than the sundrop can provide. It’s the inevitable march of The End of All Things, fertilizing the fields of time with the ashes of the old so the new can take root.

The Moonstone is a bit more in the dark(pun intended hehe) when it comes to bonding with someone, it can only try to figure out what is going on based off the emotions of its wielder, and through anything directly touching the Black Rocks. Because of this it’s... Kinda dumb? It tries to do things to help(Like shooting red fear-rocks to try and scare away whatever must be scaring its wielder so badly) but often fails spectacularly at helping.

Under the influence of the Moonstone you get:

Mortals get Neat Body Armor that’s actually just you being turned into a rock! They are very fragile! They need to be protected! The best the Moonstone can do to try and preserve you is to Stop All Destruction by.. Pausing all bodily functions indefinitely. Rocks don’t need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and almost nothing can destroy you if you’re solid Black Rock. The weak reflection of the Sundrop’s energy keeps the host animated, but they’re not exactly alive anymore. Like cryostasis. Wounds (if any) acquired in this state won’t be a problem because they’re not messing anything up, because nothing is technically working in the first place, but they will be a problem when you’re not protected in this way anymore. It’s a cosmic ‘I’ll deal with that later’ button, essentially.

Like the moon, the Moonstone can reflect the light of the sun. It uses its rock crystals to do so, which can even split the sun’s power into different shades, like a prism. Essentially, different colored rocks can mean new and exciting power sets.

Blue Lightning! The Moonstone can reflect the Sundrop’s power, so it also has access to pure bursts of energy, even if it is weaker and colder.

The Moonstone is very helpful, but usually has no idea what you want. ‘Asking’ the Moonstone for more control over its power in the same way you would Ask the Sundrop for more power reminds it of the perfect bond it used to share. The Moonstone’s incantation deepens the bond between wielder and Moonstone in such a way that it actually knows what you want from it, giving you near perfect control of its powers.

*This is kind of just a side note of the Drops: While the Moonstone is weaker than the Sundrop in an head-on fight, it could hold its own if it were on the defensive. Redirecting the power instead of trying to overpower and such.

** Cass made of rocks means I get to draw her skeleton :) not in every picture that would be fucking nuts and way too much work alskjdf;lkjs;fv

#helping hand #a helping hand #casstopia #cassandratopia 2 #mine #so yeah next comic is happening still #but I can't promise when #maybe in like 6 months when one of my dnd games wraps up #my siblings are the ones who play weekly #and I said i'd run a shorter campaign for them #like half a year campaign #then I'll only be running one game!#and I'll have time to draw comic stuff and finish finalizing my draft #I'd also like to apologize in advance for my clunky storytelling #I've literally never done this before lakjs;dlkcvj;lksjf

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pikapals16 · 4 years

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Just When It Gets Better, It Gets Worse (not finished)

tw: non-con, abuse, self-harm, sensory overload/panic attack, suicide attempt (these were planned tw's so not all of them are in this draft, but just to be safe)

A summer day spent at the mall with her visiting family should've been fun. It probably would've, excluding her past and her parents' denial that anything of any sort happened.

This isn't the case if you couldn't tell.

Kat's family was walking through the mall center when a group of people catches her eye. It's not like this group came together, they're all gathered up and definitely staring at something. Normally Kat would just walk on pass, but the sound of distress convinces them to sneak into the crowd.

After scooting to a place where she can observe, they see the subject of curiosity is a girl, about her age, and who's clearly in a sort of panic attack. Her hands are clamped and pulling at her hair, her body rocking back and forth.

The girl in pink watches as someone tries to approach her before someone else yelling back.

"Don't get close! She's probably one of those weirdos with autism." Kat pushes down their anger at the offhand comment. This girl doesn't deserve that, she's already in distress. Kat looks around for anyone the girl could've come with, as it is very unlikely that she'd have come alone

She sees two men, mid to late fourties, frantically looking around for something, which puts them as the most likely possibility. They consider going up to them to inform them of the situation, but she figures they already know, explaining the distressed look on the their faces (and assuming that they are who this girl arrived with).

Kat digs inside of her bag, looking for something that might help ground the panicking girl. Nothing that'd be remotely helpful, and she never brings their stress ball or fidget cube with their parents around. Something about disbelief in non-physical diseases, but she'd rather not risk it.

What they do take out though, is one of those toy rings with googly eyes. To be frank, Kat isn't sure why she has the old toy in her bag, but perhaps it will help the girl calm down? It's not like they have anything else to use.

Slowly, Kat slips closer to the girl, choosing to ignore any comments made, and sits in front of her, making sure to maintain distance to not make her feel uncomfortable.

Admittedly, they haven't been in a situation even remotely similar, but they've read some articles that give her an idea of what to do. The rest, she's just winging it.

Slipping the ring onto her finger, Kat raises their hand.

"Hi, I'm Mr. Goggles." Kat opens and closes her hand to imply that it's the one speaking. As it does, Kat can see the girl look up in curiosity. They guess that it seems to be working. "What's your name?"

Kat cringes a bit, this girl is probably a college student, she doesn't need to be dumbed down.

"C-Cathy." Cathy's eyes seem to light up at the character. Although her hands haven't moved from their position, they've stopped pulling, and her rocking looks like it's slowing down. Kat smiles at her, hoping she recognizes it.

She takes the ring off of her finger, and holds it out in their palm, offering it to her.

"You can have it." They say just loud enough for Cathy to hear. The latter looks at her in confusion. Why would the pretty girl be giving this to her of all people? She doesn't even know her. "It's okay, really."

At this point, Cathy's hand have since released from her head as she contemplates this. Hesitantly, she reaches out, causing Kat to scoot forward so she can hand it to her.

Cathy curiously spins and shakes the toy before putting the ring on her finger, like the pretty girl had. She opens and closes her hand, and her heart seems to flutter--at both the shaking sound of the googly eyes, and the little character that appears on her hand.

Kat smiles when they hear quiet coos coming from Cathy's mouth. What she did seemed to work, and she's calmed down.

Speaking of which, they should probably go and find their parents before she gets punished. Again. Yet, there's something that draws her towards this...stranger. She can rule out love, as she identifies as demisexual, but they're tempted to stay here in their little bubble.

Without any outside influence, just them-

"Oh my god, thank you." The two middle-aged men briskly walk over, one of them kneeling to communicate with Cathy through what looks to be sign language, and the other turning his attention to Kat.

Feelings and memories are shoved down into the archives of Kat's mind. She doesn't need or want to remember, and this guy shouldn’t have to worry over another panic attack.

”Thank you so much for calming her down. My husband and I really appreciate it. Not many people have enough patience to deal with our daughter’s autism.” The thought of these two men being married and raising a child calms some of Kat’s nerves, but just some.

”You’re welcome. Does she go to school here?” Kat curses at themself for asking that, but surprisingly the question isn’t taken a wrong way.

“No, we’re just visiting friends.” The other husband mentions as he helps Cathy up. “But thank you for being so kind. It’s rare that people listen.” Oh. Kat would know that firsthand. The countless times it’s happened.

“Yes, for sure.” Is what she settles with. They don’t need to know. “I should get going though. Wish you all the best!” With the goodbye, Kat runs off to find their family, praying they didn’t notice her absence.

But of course, they did, and while she’s being scolded at, Kat lets her thoughts take over for a bit. It’s not like it’d end any differently. It’s always the same punishment and Kat hates it each time.

They’ve felt nothing for the past couple of years but today just seemed to be different. An unlikely meeting, yet Cathy seemed to have an effect on them. And they only met for a couple of minutes if anything.

They don’t know why she’s putting so much thought into this.

What are the odds of them meeting again anyway?

Kat walks up to their meeting spot for lunch. She doesn’t have friends, acquaintances really, but they eat with them to trick themselves into thinking they are her friends. That she’s not completely alone. To distract herself from other things.

Right before they sit, Kat sees someone else, seated by themselves. People walk past without so much as a second glance, and Kat can’t take their eyes of them. They have brown curly hair, and they’re wearing a blue hoodie, which in itself is a bit odd for August.

Kat fiddles with their pink crop top. She sees herself in this mystery person. The emptiness and loneliness. Perhaps if they help the other, maybe they’ll feel less damaged as well.

”Do any of you recognize them?” Most of them don’t, but someone claims to have seen her in their creative writing class, and another claims that she has ASD. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

The girl in pink sees the strange looks from their lunch mates, but like she’s done before, it goes ignored.

"Hi." The girl on the bench looks up at the new voice. "Can I eat lunch with you?" The brunette scoots over and pats the empty space for her to sit. As Kat sits down, the other can't seem to take her eyes off her. She's pretty.....and someone she hasn't gotten the chance to thank yet.

Quickly the girl in blue digs through her bag, looking for a certain item that a certain someone had given her on a certain summer day at the mall. She shakes the rings back and forth to get the pretty girl's attention.

"Oh. Wait." Kat takes a better look at the girl she's sitting next to. No wonder she felt familiar. "We met over the summer. Cathy, right?" Cathy nods, smile growing on her face. "Well, I never told you my name, so I guess I'll do that now. Hi, I'm Kat. She/they pronouns."

"She/her." Cathy points to herself as she speaks, to make sure that Kat didn't think that Cathy didn't support their pronouns. "And thank you." Kat tilts their head in confusion. "For Mr. Goggles and helping me during my meltdown. You kinda saw me at my worst."

"Oh um, it's nothing." Lie. "Hold on, I thought you were just visiting?" ..Not a complete lie, she put some pieces together.

"My dad got a job here and my pop didn't want to be more than an hour away from me because....you know." Cathy realizes she's been stimming, but doesn't stop her actions, rather glancing at Kat to see her reaction. Nothing. Kat's eyes never leave Cathy's, well really her head since the latter isn't a fan of direct eye contact.

And that's another thing. Kat doesn't force eye contact like the other's experienced so many times before. Cathy's met very few people who are similar, and she holds them all close to her heart.

"Yeah."

The two talk for a little longer before departing for their separate classes. 'Two' honestly refers to Kat leading the conversation and Cathy commenting when prompted, but neither really care. They make sure to exchange numbers, but little did they know how much they would end up depending on each other.

She was minding her own business, honest. Cathy was never one to go into crowded places alone, for obvious reasons, but this is the easiest and closest place for her to meet with her new friend.

The ever so increasing volume of the area starts to bother the blue girl, so she takes out her headphones, blocking out most of the noise. She checks her watch again. Kat’s still not here?

Her initial thought is that Kat blew her off, but they’ve made it very clear that she’d never do something like that, not without explanation. To steer her thoughts away from becoming too overwhelming, Cathy plays with her fidget cube inside her pocket.

It’s never completely gone, but Cathy’s certainly learned how to handle her ASD better. Or at least, so that she can prevent any public outbreaks.

Unlike some people who just haven’t grown up from high school behavior yet. This particular guy thinks it's funny to copy her very subtle stimming. Just your typical jackass.

"Dude stop, she hasn't done anything to you." And that, would be the arrival of her friend. Kat turns to Cathy, tilting their head in the direction of her dorm, and the pair starts walking away. "He didn't make you uncomfortable, did he?"

Cathy shakes her head, and the two walk in silence. The silence isn't all that bad or foreign, but rather a comfort to the two. Of course, until the unsuspected thunder. Seriously, they don't know why they bother listening to the weather reports at this point.

In instinct, Cathy takes off her jacket and wraps it around Kat before pulling the both of them into the dorms.

"Cathy, you can stop running, we're inside now." Cathy doesn't stop. She doesn't want anyone else to see what she's done. No one's seen it. Not even her parents. She keeps her same pace until she's navigated the halls to Kat's dorm.

Only then does she let go.

And she immediately regrets it.

"Cathy...." Without the long sleeves as a cover, Cathy's scars are exposed. Even as she tries to hide it with her hands, they're still visible. She does nothing except curl in on herself, soft noises coming from her mouth. Kat does nothing except open the door, trying their best not to stare so hard.

Thank goodness her roommate is out of town, that would've made for some awkward conversation. Kat and Cathy walk in, the latter with a brisk pace, the former with a moment of hesitation.

"You did that yourself, didn't you?"

and that's where i gave up, basically, where i was going with this was that cathy opens up about the self-harm, then kat opens up about her trauma yea, they're friends! cathy is a year older than kat, so she graduates and although they still talk, it's not as often as kat would like. long story short, kat starts to feel lonely and depressed again, and they feel so disconnected from the world that she kills herself by overdose. little does she know that cathy and her friends were just on their way to surprise them, but see kat just in time for it to happen. cathy runs up, and begs kat to stay with her (the others are calling an ambulance) and kat's like "shit no, wait, you're here" then black out.

whether or not kat survives is up to interpretation! or....would've been hehe. idk, i'm kinda rambling now, but yea here's an abandoned oneshot

#six the musical #six fanfiction

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missmitchieg · 3 years

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Hannah's Adventures in Vlogging (And Matchmaking) at Los Feliz High - Ch 1

Hannah yawned and stretched as she woke up to her alarm blaring from her phone, blindly reaching to turn it off. "I'm up. I'm up." She mumbled and grinned as she found the phone to switch the alarm off and get out of bed. She stretched her arms out and grabbed her vlogging camera, putting on her best smile. "Hello and good morning to the Honey bee hive on this lovely Monday!" She said happily, hearing a knock on her door. "Come in!"

"Good morning, Hannah Banana!" Her dad said cheerily, coffee mug in hand. "Time to get up and get ready for school!" He said in a sing song-y voice. Her dad was such a morning dove.

"Morning, dad!" Hannah smiled, leaning an arm on his shoulder. "Say hi to the honey bee hive!"

"Hi, hive! I'm gonna go make toast for you, baby." He said and took a sip of coffee, starting to walk away.

"Thank you!" She called and turned on her 'getting ready' playlist, walking toward the bathroom to brush her teeth. She gave a thubs up to the camera when she finished and walked toward her closet. "Hmm, what should I wear today, hive? Should I go for cute and sporty or flower child?" She wondered, rummaging through her closet. She settled on a white crop top with pale yellow shortalls and matching yellow Converse sneakers, changing quickly. She fixed her hair into two cute braids, putting two sunflower shaped clips into her hair. "So this is the outfit of the day, hive! What do you think?" She grinned, doing a few cute poses before grabbing her phone and her camera, walking out to go to the kitchen.

"You're dressing like a flower again?" Her little brother, Jayden, deadpanned.

"Morning, J!" Hannah patted the fourteen year olds shoulder, ignoring his comment. She loved her little brother, even as he was going through his 'my sister is the most annoying human on Earth' phase at the moment. She was just taking everything in stride and waiting for the day he decided she was cool again. "Hey again, dad. I'm more awake now." She sat in front of the buttered toast, crossing her ankles. "So, hive, on the agenda for today is, ace Mr. Collins' Math test, cram like crazy for the History test, hope a pretty girl notices how cute I look, fly through the rest of the school day, then Starbucks with my boy, Harry, then come home to finish homework." She listed off, biting into her toast and licking crumbs off of her lips in between points on her list.

"So, what you do every day." Her dad smiled, taking a bite of his waffle.

"Yep! And I'll never be bored of it!" She joked.

"Please at least try to be discreet about that camera in your classes today." He begged, tired of getting phone calls about it from Principal Lessa.

"I'll try, daddy." Hannah smiled.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"You know, no vlogging in a performing arts school is a kinda dumb rule." She pointed out. "I mean, vlogging is sort of an art."

"Debatable." Jayden shugged. "I mean, look at Jake and Lo-"

"Ah-ah! Do not finish that sentence, little brother. Those boys vlog garbage. I vlog fun."

"Sure." Jayden nodded, finishing his pancakes.

Hannah rolled her eyes fondly and took his plate to rinse off quickly and put away. She smiled as they walked out to the car, getting in the passenger seat next to her dad. She scream sang to the camera as he drove to school, blasting all of their favorite songs of the moment along the way. Her dad stopped the car and she and Jayden climbed out, walking to the double doors. "We have arrived at Los Feliz High, my little honey bees!" She grinned, a hand in the air as she gestured toward the lockers, a few acquaintances, and Mike the janitor who never ratted her out for vlogging at school. "Hey, there. Have a good weekend, big guy?"

Mike grunted and shrugged, pushing along his cart. "Can't complain much."

"Good! Hope you have a good day." Hannah smiled and scurried to catch up with her first period friends, wrapping an arm around one. "Hey, Haley. Hi, Susannah."

"Hi, Queen Bee! Vloggy mood today?" Susannah asked, using the fake fur on her Bobcat costume to scratch an itch on her nose.

"Week in the life, day one. Just felt like it."

"Can't wait to watch that." Haley smiled.

"Your vlogs are so much better than Carrie's." Susannah nodded.

"Ugh. Speak of the devil." Haley huffed, pointing toward the group of girls walking toward the three of them with a scowl.

Hannah sighed and looked up at the girls, giving a look to her camera. She held back a groan as she suddenly found herself in a stare off with Carrie Wilson, the leader of the group and rival youtuber. Carrie's hated her ever since she started getting more subscribers recently, getting closer and closer to kicking Queen Candy off of her throne. "Oh, great. The Sour Patch Kid of Los Feliz High."

"Hi, Hannah." Carrie said in her most polite voice, putting on a smile.

"What do you want, Carrie?" Hannah asked, refraining from rolling her eyes.

"Just to congratulate you on getting five hundred K on your latest youtube video!" Carrie told her. "That's really great for you!"

Hannah grimaced at her tone, tilting her head. "Thank you." She said flatly.

"If I were you, I would celebrate now, because..." Kayla, Carrie's favorite little minion, smirked. "It won't last long." She chuckled.

"There's only enough room for one queen at this school." Carrie warned, all fake kindness gone from her face.

"Oh, I know. And that queen," Hannah chuckled. "Is me." She said simply and shrugged.

Susannah snorted and a hand flew over her mouth, holding back a laugh.

Haley laughed outwardly, nodding her head. "That's right, Queen Bee!"

"Come on, girls. Let's get to History." Hannah smiled and waved at Carrie and the girls, who were standing in stunned silence, walking away from them as fast as possible. "Hi, Mr. Collins!"

#julie and the phantoms #hannah mayner #jayden mayner #susannah brown #hayley brant #carrie wilson #jatp fanfic

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dreamyjoons · 5 years

Text

snake eyes // jjk

⇢ in the never-ending quest to try something new in the bedroom, Jungkook brings home some dice.

Genre/warnings: WOOF okay, smut (warnings under the cut), fluff! established relationship, just dumbness. Loosely pwp.

Words: 5.7k

A/N: so here is my bday and 1k followers celebration fic (despite being a month and a half late and i’m nearer to 2k than i am 1k oop)! Thank you to all who voted for this fic. It wasn’t what i had originally planned to write but this is what came around! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for sticking with me.

Smut warnings: both kinda switches, unprotected sex (stay safe pls), swearing, body worship, slight bondage, light spanking, cum play, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, cumshot, anal, rimming. lol

[Kook 💘; received 4:47PM]

i've got something new for us to try tonight baby ;)

You stare down at your phone, a knowing smirk crossing your face.

A quick glance at the clock on your phone tells you that he'll probably be home in around forty minutes. You knuckle down, determined to finish the work you needed to finish in as little time as possible whilst ignoring the flutter in your stomach at what Jungkook had in store for you.

Ever since your and Jungkook's relationship had grown into a full-time couple, it had never been boring. Insatiable and never one to settle on something, he was always looking for ways to do things a little different.

Some hadn't always worked out.

You had to hide rope burn on your wrists for weeks after Jungkook made a mess of the knots. And you couldn't even mention whipped cream without him leaping four feet in the air and frantically shushing you.

But you had fun. Your relationship with Jungkook was never boring, and it was always open and full of softness. The way he’d giggle, the gentle touches he always bestowed upon you, the way he’d look at you like a bunny in the headlights whenever you kissed him off guard. He was proving to be the greatest love of your life.

Barely twenty minutes had passed when the sounds of the front door opened, and you had to hold back your squeal of delight as you scrambled to submit your document to your editor.

You had barely pressed 'send' when his hot breath rolled across your neck, skittering blow your top as he moves his lips to the junction between your neck and jaw, pressing soft kisses on the delicate skin there.

"Hey baby." He mumbles, letting his hand sit on your hair. You lean back into his touch, your chest swelling.

"Hey Kook, how was work?"

"Torture, I couldn't wait to get back to you." You turn off the laptop and spin in the chair to face him, grinning up at him.

He smiles down at you, eyes scrunched as he lets his fingers work into your roots. Your eyes flutter closed just for a second, revelling in the feeling. A light huff of a laugh makes your eyes open again, and you slap his stomach lightly. Always a sucker for his touch.

"So what's in store for me today?" You ask, standing and pressing a kiss lightly to his lips.

He smirks, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling free three cubes. You take them from him and gently turn them over in your hands.

"Dice?" You ask, eyebrow crooked at him.

"Sex dice."

"Sex dice?" You splutter, moving your eyes back to read each side of the die.

"Hey, no spoilers!" He yelps, reaching out at lightning speed and taking them from you.

You stare at him, slightly flabberghasted but endeared as ever. He pockets them again, flashing you a little wink before turning and jogging away down the hall.

"Gonna have a shower, and then the fun begins!" He calls back. You roll your eyes, but your stomach twists endlessly in anticipation.

“Don’t take too long!” You call, watching him scurry away from you.

He doesn’t reply, but turns to wink at you. You shake your head and laugh, but you swear the feeling that envelops you as you watch him disappear could swallow you whole.

Almost an hour passes before he returned from his shower, dark hair falling messily over his eyes as he walks into the living room, bare-chested and wearing only his light grey sweats. You drop your phone on the chair next to your and openly ogle your boyfriend, watching the way the final few drops of water drip down his tones stomach and sink into the low waistband of his pants.

"Like the view?" He smirks, and you huff out a laugh.

"Duh."

He chuckles, a light dusting of red cropping across his face. You smile, watching with glee as he hides sheepishly behind his hands.

Finally he moves to sit beside you, fishing the dice out of his pocket and placing them on the table in front of you. He holds up two, turning them over in his slender fingers. You watch them move, gulping.

"So these two are like, foreplay ones, and the other gets more into it. But if we find something we like... forget the dice."

You laugh at his words, but the serious look in his eyes stopped the sound. You nod at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth and nodding. He watches the motion, drawing in a quick breath.

"Okay, let's do it." You nod.

He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, excitement bubbling in him as he shuffles to the edge of the couch, pressing the spare die to the side as he rocks the ones in his hands. He throws the dice, letting the two bounce across the small coffee table in front of you. They skitter away, and both of you sit forward and follow the dice.

"Rub... back?" He reads aloud, and you hold back a giggle.

You spin in the seat and turn your back to him, wiggling excitably.

"Stroke me up, daddy." you laugh, moving your hair away from your back.

"Y/N this isn't funny-"

"Just do what the dice tells you, big boy." you smirk, shimmying your shoulders back.

You hear him sigh but shuffle closer to you, the silence stretching as you wait for him. Finally you feel his warm fingers press into your shoulders.

They start at your shoulder blades, his hands stroking their ways to your shoulders before moving down to your spine, the warmth of his touch sinking deep below your tee. He drags his fingers back to the centre of your back before fanning them out, running your fingers over your hips.

His breath dancers over your shoulders as he presses his lips into the side of your neck, his fingers digging into your hips as he kisses up your throat. You lean into him, your eyes fluttering shut. His hands start to slide up under your shirt when you reluctantly pull away from him.

"Is this on the dice, Jungkook?"

"Forget the dice." He whispers, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Nope, this was your idea."

You lean out of his touch, plucking the dice off the table and giving them a good shake before rolling them. He huffs a high-pitched moan but you ignore him, leaning forward to read your next task aloud.

"Lick...hair? What?”

"Hah! Still wanna follow the dice, Y/N?" Jungkook laughs, and you turn to see him smirking at you.

You scrunch your face up at him, indignation thick in your veins. He chuckles at your face, eyes crinkled and toothy laugh ringing in your ears.

You turn fully to face him, and before he can think about it you place your fingers onto his bare chest and push him back into the couch. He lays underneath you, eyes wide and mouth parted as he stares up at you.

With a smirk you straddle him, pressing yourself flat against him as you plant soft kisses on the underside of his jaw. He lets out a shaky breath as you drag the tip of your tongue up across his jaw and up, running up past his sideburns and trailing out by his temple. strands of hair get caught on your tongue but you bat them away, pressing your lips over the shell of his ear. Kisses get dotted down the side of his face and at the corners of his ear. His warm fingers press into your hips, holding your tighter to him as he moans underneath you.

“There, that counts.” You smirk, pressing a kiss into his hair.

He gawps up at you, and you smirk, leaning off him to pass the dice to him. You grab his hand by your side and put the die in his hands, shaking it and making him drop them on his chest.

“Spank thigh?” He asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks up at you through his lashes.

Running his hands up your leg, he crooks a finger into your waistband and taps your ass. You take the hint and sit up, letting him slips your pants and panties down your ass. You shimmy them off, and take a moment to pull your top up off your head and throw it across the room, whilst Jungkook excitably unclips your bra. Excitement ripples through you, your skin practically tingling in anticipation.

He drops it on the floor beside the couch and puts his hands on your thighs. He spreads his hands wide, running them up to your hips and to your back, before pulling you down against him, chests pressed together.

You look up at him, mouth parted, but he merely smirks down at you. He sinks his bunny teeth into his lip, his tiny freckle under his lips drawing all your attention. He takes opportunity of you being distracted to smack his hand hard across your ass.

You yelp and try to sit up but he hold you against him, smirk widening on his face.

“Gotta stay alert baby.”

“I’m gonna throttle you, Jungkook.” You grit out as he rubs a soothing hand across the fiery skin.

A light giggle passes his lips as he watches your face. You steel yourself, bracing for another hit. But he doesn’t, simply content with watching your anticipation rise into a fidgety rage. He finally presses forward and kisses you, and you let your guard slip just for a moment. A second smack strikes across the side of your thigh and you whimper against his lips.

“Jeon-”

He pulls away from you and grins, an eyebrow raised. He keeps one hand on your ass, fingers gripping the fleshy mounds keeping you pinned against him.

“Just doing what the dice told me to.”

He gathers them up and reaches to the table, picking up the other dice and swaps it with one in his hand. You sit up and hold out your palm, watching as he places the dice into your grip. You give them a quick shake before you roll them across his toned chest.

“Rub thigh? Think you can handle that without popping a boner, Kook?” You ask, rolling your hips on his crotch.

You watch him go pale for a moment, a thick gulp bulging in his throat. But then he smiles again, exposure regained.

“Of course. Like that’s gonna affect me.”

You huff out a laugh, the thrill of the challenge rising in your veins. You pull yourself off him, standing up and motioning for him to sit up. He silent follows your command, dropping the dice on the table and turning so that he sat properly on the couch.

Satisfied, you sink in between his legs, power thrumming through you as his eyes blow wide at the motion.

You tug at his waistband and watch him shake his sweats off, shimmying them to the floor. You rip them off his ankles and throw them away from you, only to stare at his already semi-hard length.

Your work was already half done.

Stifling your smirk, you softly run your hands up the back of his calves, letting your fingertips trace across the flexing muscles. They skim under his knees and over to the tops of his muscular thighs, slowly dragging along the tensed skin. You smirk up at him, watching his eyes follows your hands, His bottom lip quivering.

Light fingers brushed up over his upper thighs, your thumbs swiping dangerously close to where his cock twitched. The barest of whimper passed his lips, his fingers scrunching on the pillow next to him as you massaged your fingers into the soft skin on the inside of his thighs.

“This feel good, Kook?” You smirk, watching as his mouth flaps.

“N-no” he whispers, though his voice cracks.

You dig your fingers in deeper, working into his muscles before swiping your fingers up, barely brushing the tips of your knuckles across his cock. He hisses and lets his head drop back. Finally you let your fingers drop off him, giving him a devilish smile.

He stares at you, but you raise your eyebrow at him and gesture between his legs where he stands fully erect. Red bursts across his face, teeth marks pressed into his bottom lip and his breathing slightly laboured. The reminder that you had this kind of effect on him was warming and often left you feeling giddy. A light giggle passes your lips as you reach behind you and grab the dice before throwing them, watching as they roll across the couch cushions.

“Ride… hands.” you read aloud, and you look back at Jungkook. He was finally come back down to planet earth and was starting to grin devilishly at you.

“Something decent at last.” He smirks, reaching forward and pulling you into his lap.

He pushes your legs so that you straddle him, running his fingers across your thighs until he traces over your hips and down to run across your slit. You gasp as his fingers dip into you, getting a feel for your wetness before gliding up to your clit. He doesn’t put any pressure on you, and it was deliriously annoying.

“Jungkook…” You whine, bracing yourself on his chest and knotting your other hand in his hair.

“You saw the dice baby,” He grins, rubbing a knuckle across your slit. “Ride.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Starting slow at first, you rock yourself against his flattened palm. His eyes are glued to your face, watching every expression that passes your features.

Long, laborious grinds against his hand have your head dropping back, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit with each roll. You get a feel for how wet you are as your slide across his hand, the noises obscene. His other hand snakes to your hip, getting a feel for your rhythm.

“My hand’s soaking baby, this all for me?” He asks, voice a quiet whimper.

You merely nod, your fingers knotting tighter in his hair. Your hips push down harder, desperate for some friction. Something to help push you towards the edge. He curls his fingers up with each thrust, the tips brushing tauntingly close to your desperate hole. You clench, the emptiness numbing your brain.

He watches you with starry eyes, head crooked awkwardly from your grip in his hair. The sounds from your soaking slit against his hand are deliriously loud, but it only adds to how hot you were, how turned on you were for him.

He adjusts his wrist and soon you get good friction across your clit, the warms skin pressing into you just right so that your vision blurs.

“Babe..” you groan, the sensation building as you fuck yourself against his hand.

“You gonna cum baby?”

The pressure was rising, you could feel it tightening in your stomach, creeping up through you. You nod aggressively, tugging tightly at his hair.

At your nodding, instead of helping you over the edge, he releases your hips, pulling his hand away from your rolling hips.

Your orgasm dissipates as you your eyes fly to him, desperation and anger bubbling under your skin.

“Gotta wait, I’m afraid.” He shrugs, dipping a finger in his mouth and sucking your wetness off it.

“Are you serious?” You blurt, heat bursting across your face as you watch his fingers pop from his lips.

“It said ride hands, not cum all over my fingers, baby.” He smirks.

It takes all of your strength to hold back from slapping him in the dick, so you instead reach out for the dice and roll them across the couch cushions next to you both. When the dice finally land, a sense of justice floods your veins.

Jungkook stares at the dice before he whips his head around to you, a nervous laugh falling from his lips.

“Ah, we don’t have to-”

“Just doing what the dice tells me to.” You mimic his words, getting to your feet and tearing down the corridor to your shared bedroom before he can object. You root through one of the bedroom drawers and run back to the couch, item in hand.

“What’s the matter Kook, you afraid?” You tease, rolling the pale pink silk in your hand.

“Pft, no.” He laughs, but his eyes stay stuck to the binding in your hands.

“Whatever, nerd.”

You straddle his lap again and let your fingers trace up his chest, rubbing the silk along his skin as you grab his arms and push them above his head. You drag your touch up his arms, pausing to plant a few gentle kisses to his cheek and jaw. With him more relaxed under your touch, you bind his wrists with the silk, knotting it and bringing your arms back down.

“You know if you want out of this, just say our usual safeword, babe.” You whisper, placing your hands on his jaw and pulling him into a kiss.

“I know.” he whispers between kisses, a soft look on his face.

You sit back and gather up the dice for him, and he brings down his bound hands to take them from your grip. He shakes them in his hands before he throws them awkwardly at the table, and you lean off of him to read them out.

“Lick… ‘question mark’. Is that a free choice?” You ask, spinning back to Jungkook, eyebrows creased. His eyes widen in excitement as his hands find your hips.

“Finally!” He almost screams, taking hold of your hips and flipping you off him, pinning you to the sofa.

He settles between your legs in an instant, and you barely have a second to catch your breath before Jungkook runs his tongue up your soaking slit, hot breath rolling across you. Hands still bound, he holds your legs apart with strained fingers.

His tongue works ferociously, running up and down your slit like a man possessed. All you could do was hang on, fingers sinking into his hair as his tongue rolls over your clit. The sounds that fall from him are sinful, breathy gasps and rasped moans as he sucks your clit between his lips, rolling it under his tongue.

It’s an unending assault as his mouth works on you. The wet noises slap at your ears, his bound fingers pressing your legs as far apart as they can.

His eyes dart back up to yours repeatedly, gauging your reaction. But you were a mess under his skilled tongue, your hips arching off the sofa with each suck on your clit.

His fingers crook awkwardly against your entrance, the added sensation blurring your vision. With a speedy tongue rolling your clit, the coil in your body tightens.

“Close baby?” He rasps, big eyes meeting yours.

You simply whine in response as he begins to lick again, your walls involuntarily clenching, desperate for him to consume you.

“Fuck Kook, I’m gonna-”

He suddenly pulls off you, staring up at you from between your legs. His mouth glistens with your juices as it pulls into a smirk, strands of hair covering his eyes.

You stare at him, mouth agape as you feel your building orgasm slip away from you.

“What the fuck-”

He doesn’t answer you, but continues to smirk. Your blood simmers as you glare at him, another ruined orgasm flushing your body.

Holding back a growl, you sit up and push him back onto the other side of the chair, letting him flop onto his back. His cock sits against his stomach, pretty tip bright red and leaking as he watches you crawl towards him. His mouth hangs and he stares, and you feel power pooling on your veins. A need to wind him up the way he did you.

You sit between his legs, dotting feather-like kisses across his thigh. Your lips move higher, hovering in the apex of his legs, teasing across his pubic bone. He rolls his hips into you, and every time he does you pull away, leaving him completely destitute.

You move back when he stills, pressing small kisses just above his shaft until finally high pitched whines leave him. His bound hands sit awkwardly on his belly, fingers twitching as he watches you.

“Y/N, please, please…”

“Oh Kook, isn’t it infuriating when you don’t get what you want?”

His mouth flaps, but he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry baby, really-“

“Oh no, it doesn’t work like that Jungkook. You have to suffer too, just a little.”

His eyes blow wide at your words, and you take a moment to revel in it before you sink to his cock, grasping his shaft and pulling towards your mouth. You watch him lick his lips in anticipation, hands flexing under their silk bindings.

You dart out a quick kitten lick to his tip, tongue dipping into the leaking slit at the top of his cock before you pull away. He hisses at the contact, eyebrows knitted as he watches you with eagle eyes.

You throw him a wink to which he practically growls, before sinking to the apex of his thighs, peppering soft kisses across his skin whilst you pumped him lazily. You see him straining against the silk, hands desperate to reach out and touch you, to brush on your skin and pull on your hair.

Careful not to brush against him, you drop kisses and light touches across his abdomen, watching as he moves his hips into your hand, desperate for friction. You stop moving your grip, eager to let him work himself up all alone.

He whines, a string of guttural moans and groans. His hips pick up speed as you kiss along his fleshy thighs, soft pleas falling from your lips.

“Please, baby… please…” he whispers, and all you could do was watch as he falls apart in your hand.

“What, Kook?” You ask innocently, punctuated with kisses up his to his abdomen.

You look up at him, hair falling in his eyes and sweat beading on his forehead. His bottom lip stammers, eyes barely able to focus on you.

“Wanna cum, please…”

His hips speed up, your hand still barely moving as he fucks into your grip. The smirk slides across your face as you watch him, chasing his high in your hand. His hands flex uselessly from their spot on his stomach, wrists tugging to be free of their bindings.

“Of course babe… but not just yet.”

You let his cock fall from your grip and land against his stomach. His face drops, the tightening from his approaching orgasm falling away to be rapidly replaced with shock. His hips roll through aftershocks, his thighs tensing beside you.

“Not fair-“

“No, it’s not babe. Sucks when that happens, doesn’t it?”

You get off the floor and straddle him, running your hands through his hair. He huffs at you, but his tied hands slide to your hips as he pulls you against him.

“Payback, huh? That seems beneath you, Y/N.” He talks in a pout, and you let out a laugh as you run a finger across his jawline.

“There’s only one thing beneath me, Kook.” You smile, rolling down onto his cock.

His bound hands dig into the front of your thighs as you brush against him, a hiss sucked through gritted teeth. You reach a hand beneath you and take hold of his cock again, rubbing his tip through your wet folds.

“That… fuck that was cheesy.”

“Maybe. But that’s not what I wanna hear right now.” You smirk, rolling against his tip.

“Y/N please-“

“Come on babe, use your words.” You smirk, pressing his tip barely into you before you roll away, letting his cock slick through your folds.

He whines, head thrown back as he bucks up into you. Power bubbles in your veins as a whine passes his lips, fingers pressing your harder into him.

“Baby, please, wanna be in you. Want you to ride me, please…” he whimpers, and with victory thrumming in you, you line him up and press him into you, taking his cock as far as you can.

A low rumble of swear words pass his lips, his face drawn tight as he fills you. He’s thick inside of you, the drag slow until he finally bottoms out inside.

He sits inside you for a minute, savouring the sensation of you and the way your walls contract around him. His eager mouth find yours, holding you tightly against him as he consumes you.

When he breaks away for a breath you begin your slow rise off of him, your favourite sounds tumbling from his lips.

Your own frustrations build up quickly, your missed orgasms desperate to break free from you. Originally your intention was to drag out his suffering, but as he drags deliciously inside of you, you realise you can’t wait.

You buck yourself faster, taking his bound hands and pushing them back over his head, his forearms flexing either side of his face. You kiss whatever bare skin you can, pressing your lips messily against his flexing biceps and up this throat.

He can’t be contained, his hips working up in true Jungkook style, fast and unyielding. You hang on for the ride, the friction he fucks into you mind-numbing.

You lean back, pressing your arms behind you balance yourself. A dice rolls beneath your hands nestling between your fingers. You bring your hand back, rolling the dice into your palm.

“Look,” you breath, holding the dice between you. “Ass.”

His thrusts into you slow, eyes growing wide as he stares between you and the dice. The look riles you up, the palpable shift in his desires thick in the air.

“You- I, uh- we-“

“Wanna try it?” You ask, a thrill shivering through you.

Jungkook’s mouth flaps, red blasting across his cheeks.

He’s still, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far. That was always one aspect of the bedroom that you and Jungkook had yet to try, and finally, you were feeling it.

“Kook?”

His hands leave the inside of your thighs, and you watch as his shoulder tense, the strain rippling down his arms until the knot binding his hand snaps and falls into your lap. You barely have a second to process before his hands grip your ass, holding himself inside you as he gets to his feet and carries you down the hallway towards your bedroom.

He kicks open the door behind you, staggering through and dropping you both on the bed. He cages you in, peppering kisses across your face.

“Are you sure?” He punctuates between pecks, lips lavishing over your hot skin.

“Yes..” you moan, eyes fluttering shut.

His kisses slowed, easing into soft grazes of his lips across your collarbone and throat. Finally he pulls away from you, crawling off of the bed and slipping from you.

You groan at the loss of contact, eyes open and fingers sliding along his arms as he steps off the bed.

You watch him move to the dresser and collect something before he moves back to the bed. He rips open a condom wrapper and rolls it over the end of his cock, gritting his teeth as he rolls the rubber up his sensitive member.

He moves between your legs, a small bottle placed next to your legs as he holds out a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up to kneel in front of him. He twists you so that you turn, his chest pressed to your back.

“Sure, baby?” He whispers in your ear, his hands running up your thighs and sides, swirling over your skin.

“Yes.” You sigh, pressing your ass back into him.

He lets a hand slide back over your ass, running his fingers through your slick before circling around your tight hole. You gasp at the contact.

“We gotta get you to relax, Y/N.”

He lets his other hand slide to your clit, rolling circles softly over the sensitive bud. Your hips roll into his hand, your body melting back against him.

His finger works you up, and you let him roll with it, happy to fall under his touch. Slowly his index fingers begin to work inside, eased with your wetness that coated his finger. Your head falls back to his shoulder, garbled moans falling from you.

Soon your hips begin to buck, your body slumping harder into Jungkook as your orgasm begins to prickle in you. He begins to work another finger inside, the sensation filling your senses. You feel yourself stretch around his fingers, and your core clench around nothing as you begin to feel the wave wash over you.

But then his fingers drop from you, body shifting behind you as he picks up the small bottle. You hear him open it, and you finally realise it’s lube. You feel his head drop to your shoulder as he spreads it along his cock, whines escaping his throat as he covers his sensitive shaft. Apprehension prickles at you, the unknown drawing a pit in your stomach.

His fingers pick back up on your clit, lips pressed back against your neck and your worries begin to slip.

With another roll of your hips you feel him begin to press at your back entrance. He’s slow, gently pressing inside. You gasp at the pressure, the stretch making you ache in all ways possible.

With another roll across your clit you garble out a moan, and Jungkook pushes further in until he’s fully sheathed in you.

You hips roll against and he whines, moving both hands to steady your hips.

“Please, stay still. I can’t…” he whines, hot breath rolling down your neck.

“What’s the matter babe?” You want to tease, but the pressure on your body was leaving you breathless.

“Too much-“

“Oh, so I shouldn’t do this?” You roll your hips, clenching your tight hole on his cock. He hisses, fingertips pressing into your skin.

“Take your time babe.” You laugh, stroking your fingers across his arm.

After a few moments to compose himself, he begins to move. The tight drag sends your mind reeling, and soon the sting drops away. The fullness clouds your mind, and soon Jungkook’s fingers are flying across your clit again.

His free hand snakes to your front, fingers running through your soaking slit before pressing into your wet hole. Jungkook’s finger and cock press against your thin walls, the double fill of him too much, too heady.

“Fuck… fuck Jungkook. I’m gonna-“ you’re cut off by a guttural moan that escapes you, your vision swimming.

His finger begins to hammer inside of you, fucking both of your holes whilst his other hand circled your clit. You bucked in his grip, the pressure intense and building, filling your whole senses.

“Let go, baby.” He whispers, lips grazing on your neck.

He pushes another finger inside you, the sensation pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, a strangled cry of Jungkook’s name leaving you. You clench down on him, drenching his fingers as you rode through your dizzying high. The pressure you slam on Jungkook is too much, his high whines in your ear almost euphoric.

“Need to… please.” He whimpers.

“On me.” You whisper, letting him slip from you.

You unlatch yourself from him, falling onto the bed below you and turning to face him. Your body feels limp, your orgasm sapping all of the strength as you sink into the mattress, heady and in euphoria. You lay shamelessly spread, his eyes hungrily devouring you.

He rips off the condom and throws it across the room before his hand flies to his red, throbbing cock. He pumps himself furiously, eyes taking you in.

“So pretty, baby.” He groans, hips jerking into his hands.

You play along, letting your hands trail to your chest. Pulling at your nipples, you roll them between your fingers, arching at him. His lip drags between his teeth, soft simpers leaving him.

“Shit- Y/N!”

He cries out as he cums, hot ropes spurting across your hot skin. He covers your stomach and core, the hot liquid dribbling across your slit and sinking lower, oozing down past your holes before hitting the sheets below.

You gasp, watching as he comes undone above you. His eyes flutter shut as his hips stutter, jerking awkwardly into his hand. His hands and his head drops, heavy breaths rolling through his broad chest.

When his movements begin to still he looks down at his handiwork, a sheepish grin creeping on his face.

“What a mess.” You laugh, catching his eye.

He quirks an eyebrow at you before dropping between your legs, tongue darting across the trails of cum that coat you. His tongue runs across your over-sensitive slit, your body twitching under him as he licks your clean. You feel your juices mix with his as he works, the realisation causing heat to burn hot across your face.

Jungkook works down, letting his tongue circle across your tighter hole, cleaning up the trails of cum. You clench, fingers gripping into the sheets as he swirls around your hole. He runs a finger up the length of your crack and gathers the cum across your puckered hole, swirling it around the tight muscle before taking it all on his tongue.

Finally, with one more lick, he trails from your ass to your clit and up, removing all traces of him. He peppers kisses back up to your lips, and you taste his saltiness.

His body drops on top of yours, slotting himself between your legs as you kiss lazily.

He pulls away, and with a quick smile you’re both laughing, heat burning across your face. His skin is searing, but as he presses tightly against you, you know you don’t care. It was the best feeling, locked in this with him.

“Well, that was quite something.” He smirks, propping himself on his elbow and pushing strands of hair out of your face. You move your hand to press against his cheek, letting your thumb graze across his cheekbone.

“It was.” You smile.

His face lights up, bunny teeth ticking into his bottom lip as if he was trying to hold back his beaming grin. Instead he clears his throat, letting a smug smirk grace his pretty features. His fingertips trace your face, blown starry eyes meeting yours.

“We’re gonna have to use these dice more often.”

#this is all just smut lmao sorry #smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #my writing

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